September 17, 2009 – Day 266 – Pokhara, Nepal

It is best not to make many (or any, in fact) future plans if you intend to travel by bus in Nepal. Actually, it is probably best not to really think of anything besides trying to survive and holding very tightly to the seat handle, if you are lucky enough to have one on your bus. Even on such a short journey of 6 hours can prove to be a life threatening endeavor.

Just another day in the life

It took most of the day to get from Kathmandu to Pokhara on a cramped, bumpy, recklessly fast bus filled with more people than seats should even uncomfortably accommodate and 2 bus crashes in the meantime. The first crash happened when another bus, fitting a very similar description to ours in condition and population, smacked headlong into the rear end of our bus at full speed while we were parked on the side of the road.

Felt worse than it looks

The second crash happened about 20 minutes later when our driver ran down a pedestrian, a kid who looked to be about 17 years old. The bus stopped only long enough for the kid’s friend to drag his bloody and unconscious body from beneath the bus tires and onto the sidewalk. Within half a second, our driver sped away, not for even a moment getting out to check on the condition of the person he had just run over nor to call for a taxi or medical vehicle (not that one can really get through the ridiculous traffic that pervades Nepal’s dreadful road system). When we finally arrived in Pokhara’s tiny bus depot, we all nearly leapt from the bus doors before it had even stopped completely and were scratching at the luggage door in hopes of getting our baggage and fleeing with the last scraps of our lives.

The Problem

Thanks to bus crash #1, the luggage door was very badly caved and bent inward. So what ensued was 6 random Nepalis prying at it with a crow bar and beating it with hammers and 15 foreigners yelling at them to stop because they were hammering it in the wrong direction. Finally one lone Nepali guy sheepishly starts chipping away under the direction of the yelling foreigners and, lo and behold—the door feebly pries open and fists start flying to get the bags and get the hell out.

Happy to have arrived unmaimed we each grabbed our bags and set out on foot for a hotel. As it turns out, Lakeside is just a smaller, less noisy version of Kathamnadu’s Thamel. All the same, it’s a rather pleasant change and at least we survived today’s bus journey!