CHONG ZI LIANG |
recent reporting assignment.
I was trying to get from Chinchu to Kohalpur by bus, but as luck would have it there was a chukka jam called because of the death of a UML cadre 300 km to the west from Kathmandu in Butwal. I had managed to catch a micro willing to break the banda, but after a lunch stop the driver decided he was going to respect the strike after all and disgorged us all together with our luggage.
Now there's nothing like being abandoned in the middle of nowhere along a mountain highway to forge solidarity among complete strangers. A discussion promptly took place and it was quickly decided we would walk the remainder of the way to Kohalpur: all 25 km of it. The trouble was we all had baggage and I had two packs weighing 15 kg.
After walking for a bit, I realised just how beautiful Nepal is, the bus is simply too fast and all the scenery zips by the window before registering in the retina. An immediate uphill route (pictured, above) of eight km right at the start virtually ensured we were going so slow every plant could be admired in its entirety.
But if I thought the uphill walk was tough, going down was a nightmare. The Nepalis I was hiking with decided to take a shortcut through a steep downhill stretch. My clumsy city feet were slipping on every pebble, root or stretch of dirt.
A highway hike also reveals the legendary Nepali hospitality. Sensing I was in trouble, two Nepalis slowed down during my downhill tumble and walked with me as the rest of them disappeared out of sight. One of them even carried one of my bags. A long march along Nepal's highways is the only way to bond with the locals and get up close and personal with Nepalis.
By mid-afternoon, we had come off the hilly portion of our forced march. The final 10km stretch of straight road to Kohalpur now was a gentle descent through forest. I have heard that on the established mountain hiking circuits, food and other essentials are sold at an unusually high price. In this aspect, the highway route will not disappoint. Shops along the last 10km stretch were nice enough to provide us with an authentic hiking experience as well by jacking up their prices. It's all demand and supply - how much you pay in Nepal depends entirely on how desperate you are to buy what is on offer.
By the time we stumbled into Kohalpur, we probably looked like a posse of hombres walking into a wild west town after being lost in the desert. My legs had stopped feeling any pain and had been on autopilot during the final five km.
So, to all you tourists out there: why pay for a hiking permit that is obviously overpriced because you are a foreigner? Why shell out for that down jacket and waterproof boots? If 'Naturally Nepal' is what you seek, just board any bus out of Kathmandu and pray for a banda. Experience the trek of a lifetime.