Return to Kathmandu

Oh That Red Tape

India has the most difficult visa process I've ever dealt with.  

The online visa application takes forever, asking invasively for visible identification marks, my parents' full names and reference persons on both sides of the border.  India and Bangladesh don't have the best diplomatic relations, meaning I needed to wait for an interview at the India High Commission before I could get my stamp.  The interview could only be scheduled after my Bangladeshi visa had expired, meaning I wasn’t getting into India from Bangladesh. 

This threw a massive wrench in my plans, and a decision needed to be made quick.  Frustrated with the Indian system, I considered skipping the country completely and flying straight to Turkey, my intended destination after India.  But flights were expensive, and at the end of the day I didn’t want to give up so easily.  Nahid and Tanbir both suggested I go through Nepal, and looking at a map it made absolute sense.  They also told me the India-Nepal border is less stringent, that many Nepalese can go across even with no visa.  Flights from Dhaka were available and much cheaper, so I bought a ticket to Kathmandu.

Back to the Beginning 

I hadn’t planned on coming back to Nepal so soon, because I was focused on exploring new countries.  However, the return brought me back full circle.  I had come here with borrowed maps almost two years earlier, to find God and myself by solo traveling for the first time.  I loved Nepal, its people, and my adventures there.  Time slowed down and I could think, away from the noise and stress of Hong Kong.  It was there, walking on the majestic mountains of the Annapurna, that I heard the call.  I also met a rugged man who was traveling the world for 18 months.   Though he had a callous, hardened outlook, he was the most interesting person in the teahouse.  We were regaled with stories about sleeping in Indian train stations and walking through no man's land to cross borders in North Africa.  Up to that point, I didn't even know you could travel for that long. 

Last time I had planned Nepal methodically, but I was also out for adventure, purposefully reckless at times to see how far I could push it.  It's not surprising that I ended up in some sketchy situations, exposing the glaring mistakes and thus some valuable lessons.  One thing I learned was, never enter a new city after sunset.  

This is partly why my first impressions of Kathmandu were stark and unpleasant.  I had arrived in the dark of night, and though I negotiated for a taxi, I was put instead into a minivan with two men.  We drove into a lifeless city with no lights and no people, and for a while it seemed like our vehicle was the only one on the road.  When we turned down a narrow alley, I began nervously clutching my bags, choking back the fear of the unknown. 

Though daylight chased away the shadows, it also revealed Kathmandu to be a dusty and tumultuous beast.  It was something like the second most polluted city in Asia.  So many stimuli assaulted the senses that an hour-long walk through the city streets proved an exhausting effort, forcing me to beat a hasty retreat to my hostel.  I grew to love Nepal mostly during my days in Pokhara.  Kathmandu remained a city of chaos to avoid at all costs.

Perspective is relative, after all.  Coming from Hong Kong, Kathmandu seemed senseless and dysfunctional.  But this time I was coming from Dhaka, and Kathmandu now seemed a familiar, peaceful haven where I could rest and regroup.  By comparison, the streets seemed less dusty and the traffic far less crazy.  It was also quieter because it was low season.  But there was plenty of infrastructure around tourism, and most everything was available for me to resupply.  People spoke English, so getting around was way easier than Dhaka.  There were friendly faces at The Sacred Valley Inn, where I had briefly stayed two years prior.  Finally, Nepal is not a Muslim country, and I could eat all the pork I wanted.

Sabali

It took fully two weeks, multiple trips to the embassy and a lot of patience to get my visa right.  (I heard that historically, the process was intentionally difficult to solicit bribes, but the online format has corrected this practice some.)  In the meantime, I refreshed, reflected and fattened myself up, since I'd lost around 15 pounds in the previous two months.  It didn’t take long to overdose on bacon, pork chops and pepperoni pizza.  

Waking up to the sight of the Himalayas on the horizon fed the spirit, and I tried to think lofty thoughts.  It was time to focus my attention on the Pandora's Box that was India: where to go, what to watch out for, how to get around.  I wanted to do it all, but didn't know where to start. From Bangladesh, it made sense to stop at Kolkata first.  But now entering from Nepal, the closest points of interest were Darjeeling and Varanasi.  I even went as far as writing Darjeeling as my point of entry on the visa form.  But in the end, a landscape of tea plantations paled in comparison to the allure of the holy city.

I was now ready and anxious to go, but was further delayed two days by a series of hartals.  The term is commonly translated to 'general strike', but is more appropriately described as a 'shutdown' of business and transportation, in protest of the government.  I was used to these in Bangladesh, where I witnessed five or six hartals as election year heated up and opposition parties amped up.  There was nothing to do but wait it out. 

Finally the hartal ended, and I booked a ticket for the first bus to the border.  I was well aware of the risks of these buses: the aggressive drivers, the treacherous mountainous roads, the bags and suitcases latched to the roof making turns even worse.  But it was the only way to go, no backing out now.

I got to the bus station as the sun rose, struggling to stay awake while mentally preparing for the bumpy 10-hour ride ahead.  There was one other traveler waiting to board when I arrived, whose name was Diego.  The scruffy beard marked him as a traveler, along with his faded ethnic red paints with the rainbow trim.  Hailing from Italy, he had been traveling India for several months already.  He had come to Nepal to renew his visa, and was headed back to India.  We were both going to Varanasi, and decided to travel together. 

I had no idea that all the delays in Nepal would lead to me visiting Varanasi at the perfect time.  And nothing prepared me for what was to come.