Horizons of Himalaya

I was astonished by the steepness of the descent from Tansen to the junction with the national highway. Then the road levelled out and hugged the hillside until delivering me to the first pass. To my delight a long descent to the valley floor lay ahead, and through a gap in the hills came my first sighting of far-off Himalayan snow-caps.

From one river valley to the next the road led, its altitude rarely constant for any length of time. I was conservative with rest-breaks, uncertain of how close to sunset my arrival in Pokhara would be in the best case.

There were few other users of the road, beyond local traffic around settlements and the coaches. Young Nepali men rode on the roofs of buses, as did the occasional tourist. One took my photo as his bus passed, and dropped a handwritten note giving his email address so I could obtain a copy. In fact, owing to its longish stops in towns, I played leapfrog with his bus for much of the latter half of the journey but lost touch as I neared Pokhara and suffered a huge nail through my rear tyre, just as sunset loomed. My hopes of arriving to a backdrop of the Anapurna Range faded with the daylight, but presently I entered the city in darkness and found a hotel.

That evening in a small restaurant by the roadside, devoid of any signage, I met a friendly German named Hannes, who imparted a lot of information about the Nepali culture, local food and customs.

On emerging from the hotel the next morning I was unprepared for the majestic Himalayan skyline the Anapurnas presented. Towering 8,000 m above sea level, they seemed to fill half of the sky, despite their being 30 km distant; I wondered how long it took to become habituated to such a backdrop.

Pokhara boasted many tourist-oriented shops, even in the less touristic Dam-side where I'd ended up staying, but it was never too much as some places can end up. I stayed off the bicycle for a day, seeking sustenance and resting all of my sore parts.

Most nights I would reunite with Hannes at the restaurant. He introduced some of the mountain food he'd encountered in his trekking, such as Thukpa, a noodle soup, and Dhero, a mass of sticky stodge made from crushed barley or corn and topped with dhal or curried vegetables.

I cycled up to nearby Sarangkot by bicycle after Hannes mentioned having done so a few days earlier. The road climbed around a kilometre vertical from the valley floor over a horizontal distance of only 8 km or so. Even with minimal luggage it was a grind, and by the time I'd reached the top the Anapurnas had clouded over, as they do most days. I contented myself with surveying the valley, recuperating and watching the dozens of paragliding tourists drift above, accompanied by white vultures and occasional eagles.

The World Peace Pagoda was another day's objective, and another stiff climb via what turned out to be the wrong road - a rocky track for which my bicycle was quite unsuitable. I arrived near sunset, greeted the Buddha and promptly descended again via the correct road.

The next day went walking in the jungle with Hannes, passing rice paddies where oxen provided draught power, and the settlements of Tibetan refugees. A nervous monkey called and made threatening gestures as we crossed his territory. Later, as we lunched in the ruins of an old house, a group of buffalo arrived and lapped at the brackish puddles at our feet.

As a destination, I think Pokhara ranks amongst my favourites. It is quiet but not to the point of boredom, and in fact with all of the trekking and other activities available in the vicinity, one would have difficulty in exhausting all the possibilities. I could understand why Hannes took refuge here from the German winter each year.

Indeed, after a week enjoying the surroundings, the comfort and the local peoples' kindness, I had to resist the urge to keep extending my stay; I had less than two weeks of my Nepal visa remaining and was undecided about where to go after Kathmandu. I tend to find that despite what uncertainty I may have, if I start pedalling something always comes up; a plan crystallises; and so that is what I did.