Nepal 35: The Man With No Shoes

Everest Posters Sold in Nepal

By the afternoon, my feet were sore from a long day of walking around Lakeside Pokhara. That’s all I was thinking about as I slowly beat a path back to my room at the Hotel Snow Leopard. Walking along the shores of Fewa Lake, staring at my feet and wondering if these cheap boots would be at all comfortable for trekking, I was flagged down by an old man.

He stood astride a bicycle, and was chatting with a fruit vendor. Perhaps it was because I’d walked around all day and hadn’t spoken to a soul, or perhaps it was something about this old man’s demeanor, but I felt drawn to him. I knew he was going to try and sell me something I didn’t want, but the prospect of bartering – of conversation – was appealing.

So much of my time in Nepal had been spent in bleak loneliness.

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Nepal 34: Lakeside, Pokhara

Coming to Pokhara cleared my mind the way a big chunk of wasabi clears the sinuses.

I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and refocused. Everything seemed clear.

I’d hang out in Nepal until I resolved things with the Austrians. I’d return home with a job offer in hand, ready for a new adventure, or I’d return home with that particular door closed. Obviously, one of those was the preferable option.

Once I had an interview or an offer, then I could work out the exact details.

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Nepal 32: Lakeside Abandoned

[this is an ongoing series about travel in Nepal. To get the full effect, I suggest you start at the beginning. But you do what feels right, friend.]

The Hotel Snow Leopard was located at the south end of Pokhara’s Lakeside district, a touristy area the Lonely Planet book described as “an extension of Kathmandu’s Thamel neighborhood.”

But when I ventured out of Hotel Snow Leopard that first night in Pokhara, I didn’t see many similarities to Thamel. The streets were wider, and emptier than in Thamel. No touts hassled me, and I wasn’t once offered drugs. The cool, crisp mountain air didn’t burn my throat upon swallowing. The full moon serenely lay on the surface of Fewa Lake, casting a calming blue-white light across everything.

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Nepal 31: The Power of Places

Alleyways in Ubud Bali

I lay in my room at the Hotel Snow Leopard, the light slowly dying, outside and in.

Pokhara, it seemed, also suffered frequent load-shedding.

Despite that surface similarity, I could already tell this was a different place than Kathmandu. For starters: it was quiet. After what had felt like a lonely eternity in the insanity of Kathmandu, it was nice to be able to hear myself think again.

Not that they were all welcome thoughts, as I’m sure you can imagine.

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