Bandipur

Shanti and Tashi have organised for us to hire a car and driver (potentially safer than taking the bus and probably as economic for five of us) around Nepal for the time that we are here.

The next day we set off to Bandipur, a little village in the hills to the West of Kathmandu.

Our driver, Binud, is of the risk-taking variety and we get our first taste of driving on Nepalese roads outside of the city.

The terrain is very mountainous and beautiful and we feel homesick thinking about our trip to the South Island a few years ago. India was so dry and hot that it is strange to see forests and running rivers.

What we don’t expect is the pollution.

Having now witnessed a scary amount of pollution in each country we have visited, rubbish and plastic in Bali, Air pollution in Thailand and all three in India, I suppose it is no surprise that Nepal is also suffering the effects of major pollution and, by the sounds of the lack of monsoon in both India and Nepal, Global Warming.

When the temperature is almost unbearable already, it is frightening to think of it rising over the next few years.

The smog, dust and traffic fumes in Kathmandu are overwhelming and the majority of pedestrians are wearing masks.

Apparently we have come at the wrong time of the year for smog, heat haze and seeing the mountains. As we leave Kathmandu, the smog haze stays with us and while we can see the hills in the foreground, they sort of disappear into the distance. We’ll be lucky if we get a glimpse of the Himalayas at all during our stay.

Bandipur is a beautiful old hill-top village which remains largely intact after the earthquake.

Our hotel is accessible by a pathway through goats and houses and for the ludicrous price we paid to break up our trip to Pokhara and spend one night here, we are a little surprised to see our rooms, which look as though they have recently been through a dust storm. Luckily the mattress is still completely encased in plastic which, although making for a sweaty night, makes me confident that at least there won’t be dust in the bed.

The views and the hill-top breeze are very lovely and after Kathmandu, the rural peace is welcome.

Roger has a stomach ache so Jasper, Stella and I head to the village to explore. It is like a quaint little French village with its bougainvillea and little two-storey buildings.

We chat with a few locals on our way through before meeting a teenage girl who seems very interested in befriending Stella.

She is so friendly that we accept her invitation to visit her house, although she explains that she has a stomach ache.

Back at her house with its earth floor on which her mother sits puffing away on a cigarette, she encourages Stella to let her dress her up in a Sari and have her photo taken. Very quickly we are discussing their lack of money and the cause of her bad stomach which is lack of rice. Apparently they need 1000 rupee to buy more and she suggests that we walk to the shop to buy some for her.

I can feel Jasper giving me the stink-eye which he inevitably does when he thinks I’ve been too gullible and am about to be ripped off.

Having already been the willing participant in a number of “let’s go buy essential supplies from the local shop so that I can go and get my money back later and pocket it for something else” schemes, I suggest that I give her 500 (surely enough for a large bag of rice) and she goes later. She wants 1000. We give her 500 and make a hasty retreat, only to run into her alter ego the next day with a new dye job, blow-dry and an outfit considerably flasher than anything I’m carrying in my bag. Apparently she’s off to town to pay some bills.

I don’t look at Jasper because he’s really giving me the stink-eye now!

Leaving Bandipur

At breakfast the next morning, we meet a woman from NZ called Anna, who now lives in India. We talk about how we come from Grey Lynn and she says we probably have quite a few people in common. Then Roger walks past and she says “Roger!” It seems this is destined to happen wherever we go.