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.
[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.
