KINGDOM IN THE CLOUDS
The country canoes at
Rapti river make the view picture-perfect, and the bumpy ride to this spot is
worth it
Royal
Nepal Airlines flight RA206 from New Delhi to Kathmandu is about to land. All
six women in our group are eagerly looking out through the windows for
snow-clad mountains. But a thick blanket of clouds disappoints us.
SIGHT
TO BEHOLD
The
Tribhuvan International Airport is dealing with above capacity summer traveller
numbers. The temperature is over 30˚ Celsius, and our wait at the conveyor belt
to collect our checked-in bags crawls on for nearly two hours.
Our
tour-planner-cum-guide, Gautam Waghle, says apologetically: “Our airport is
very small; expansion plans are on.” He takes us to a hotel in the heart of
Kathmandu, a city that doesn’t impress us much at first. It looks unplanned,
with congested streets and underdeveloped roads, and has Delhi-like dust in the
air. Narrow streets, where buildings stand precariously close to each other,
remind us of Old Delhi.
After
lunch and a short rest, we head to the centuries-old Pashupatinath Temple, one
of Unesco’s World Heritage Sites. A Himalayan rain offers a perfect backdrop to
the sculptural grandeur of the temple, though poor crowd management makes a
hassle-free darshan almost impossible. Still, we manage to get a glimpse of the
sanctum sanctorum before strolling through the compound, enjoying the sprawling
area with several small but stunning temple structures. Goats and monkeys offer
some entertainment en route to Arya Ghat, where cremations take place on the
lines of Assi Ghat in Varanasi. The Ghat, along the Bagmati river, is brimming
with people carrying the bodies of their dear ones. Smoke billows from the
pyres, priests prepare for the aarti, and a girl dances to spiritual tunes.
It’s odd how this bustling area still offers enough tranquillity for the mind
to ponder over the eternal truth of death.
THE GREAT ELEPHANT
CHASE
At
6am the next morning, we start for Chitwan, five hours from Kathmandu. Roads
are almost non-existent and dust makes visibility near-zero. The bumpy ride
makes even those of us who are not prone to motion sickness throw up. Seated in
the back, I lose count of the number of times my head hits the roof of the
vehicle. To distract ourselves, we play
antakshari,
and our guide from Nepal surprises us with more Hindi songs than any of us
know. Soon, he becomes the lifeline for both teams.
At
noon, we are at our hotel in Chitwan, standing by the tranquil Rapti river that
is a sight for sore eyes (and heads). The country canoes make the view
pictureperfect, and the bumpy ride to this spot is declared to be worth it.
Contrary
to our expectations of Himalayan weather, it’s hot and humid. But we are looking
forward to our elephant safari at Chitwan National Park. At 4pm on the dot, we
clamber on to elevated wooden platforms that serve as ladders for our jumbos,
and are soon soaking in the refreshing greenery of the forest, with just the
chirping of birds and insects in the background. Drooping branches of trees and
wild shrubs rub against us, leaving scratches on our skin. The grasslands that
appear mid-way have tiny ponds. Other on-duty elephants and
The eerie silence is
suddenly broken by the trumpeting of our elephant. We are startled to see
another elephant, carrying two of our friends and two other tourists, charging
towards us. Mahouts land hard blows on the charging elephant with their long
sticks. We drip with sweat. The other elephant, visibly angry, is now at a
distance, hitting a tree and kicking mud. After minutes-long efforts, the
elephants are separated and led along different paths.
The mahout explains in
Hindi: “They are sisters and are angry that we are not allowing them to play
together.” We are not convinced. This must be his way of pacifying us. We ask
the sisters’ names. “Sonakali and Anarkali,” he says.
Many times, we are
tempted to scream out loud at the sight of a bird or animal, but we have
promised to be quiet, so we are forced to whisper. Rhinoceros graze happily in
the green meadows, a herd of deer keeps a safe distance, and eagles watch over
us from tall tree branches. An hour later, our elephants bring us back. We
thank them by feeding them bananas.
A short walk along the
fresh, green meadow bordering the river when we get back to the hotel is almost
like a meditation session, calming our elephant-shocked nerves. There’s a
sitting area made of bamboos tied together, and a similar watch tower, and
though the hotel staff had warned us about crocodiles in the river, the mood is
perfect for a river dance while watching an elephant having a splash in the
water.
Once darkness sets in, a
hot cup of tea prepares us for the Tharu Cultural Program. We board an old van
that rattles its way to the venue when it starts pouring. Along with other
tourists from the hotel, we howl to the battering of huge raindrops in a
vehicle with no windshield, and reach the auditorium drenched. An hour of
performance by folk artistes excites us so much that we all get on to the stage
to shake a leg to the music for the culminating programme.
MOUNTAINS
AHOY
By 8am next morning, we
are on the road to Pokhara. We ask Gautam hopefully whether this will be a
different route from the one we took to get to Chitwan. “It’s the same road for
a couple of hours,” he says, and we sink into sadness at the thought of the
torturous ride ahead.
We reach Pokhara just
after noon. After lunch, we walk to Phewa Lake. The rays of retreating sun on
the lake dotted with country boats and pedal boats offer a magnificent view
with hills in the backdrop. We catch a glimpse of the snow peaks in the
Annapurna Mountain Range behind the hills.
A pedal boat takes us to
a temple in the middle of the lake. The wind is chilling. We spend some time in
the temple island enjoying the view and some selfies.
Exploring Pokhara the
next day, we have an adventure in the dark at Mahendra Cave and Bat Cave. In
the eerie bat cave, hundreds of bats hang from the roof. Outside the large
limestone cave of Mahendra, a nest of probably a blue rock thrush, with four
chicks in it, provides a welcome sight.
The Seti river gorge and
the Devi’s Falls are jaw-dropping. Both places are certainly not for those with
acrophobia, though they offer innumerable photo opportunities.
In the evening we are
back at Phewa Lake for a stroll in the evening sun. The cafés and restaurants
facing the lake are tastefully done. A live band is performing in front of one
of them and Ajeeb
Dastan Hai Yeh rents the
air. Some shopping later, we call it a well-spent day.
Next morning, we leave
for Kathmandu, five hours from Pokhara. The roads are good and we enjoy the
ride. We stop by Swayambhunath Monkey Temple, on a hilltop overlooking the
congested Kathmandu Valley. The structure was partly destroyed in the 2016
earthquake and some areas are yet to be restored.
We are all smiles as we
board the plane to Delhi the next morning though we wish we’d had a longer
holiday. The clouds don’t disappoint us this time, and the snow peaks offer a
breathtaking view, sealing a perfect vacation.
HTBR 13MAY18
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