Travel Tips

I often hear people complaining bacause they only get a couple of weeks holiday a year. Well, we only got eight days. I think people should stop moaning and think themselves lucky.

Pokhara is, in fact, bordering on boring. But thats its appeal. In the adventure playground that is Nepal, its good to have a retreat where theres little to do.

We booked into the Celesty Inn, a new hotel up a quiet lane, yet still near the center. Our room was immaculate with tasteful decour. The tiled ensuite bathroom had 24 hour hot water and the fixtures and fittings still had their shop labels stuck to them. For around GBP 2.70 a night for the room, it was extraordinary good value.

The town itself hadnt changed at all over the years Id known it. We enjoyed a steak at Pokharas branch of the Everest Steak House, checked out the same old souvanir and trekking shops, had a beer in Leylas Bar and went to watch a band play at the Amsterdam Club. But in spite of the young foreign clientelle and choice of venues, the nightlife was very tame and lacked any great atmosphere.

We hired out bicycles one day, for a little remanising. We could rent excellent but quite expensive mountain bikes, or completely useless but rediculously cheap single-gear local bikes. We opted for the completely useless bikes and pedalled off alongside the lake.

The handle bars of my bike swept back in typical Asian style, but because of my lanky legs this meant I couldnt turn the front wheel, so we could only cycle in a straight line. Without gears we couldnt go up any hills either, so our choise of routes was a little limited. After a while we came to a slight incline and ground to a halt. We gave up, dismounted so I could turn my bike around in the road, before cycling back again.

The following day we set out to exorcise my ultimate, wildest fantasy – to cruise the highway on a big, powerful, high-octane Harley Davidson motorbike. And what better place than on the mountain highways of Nepal.

I had some difficulty in locating a good Harley in Pokhara, and had to somewhat settle for second best. No matter. It was fantasy time...

Up a quiet side street I mounted the silver mean machine and hit the elctronic start. The silence was shattered as fuel ignited and the beast roared to life.

Juliet climbed on behind me and I gently eased open the throttle. The animal lurched forward and we rounded the corner onto Pokharas main street. Cruising slowly past lines of restaurants and cafes, I gunned the engine. Windows shook, children ran screaming, and pretty girls smiled over their cappuccinos and waved, their excited, lust-filled eyes turning to spiteful jealousy on seeing Juliet clinging on behind me.

I opened up and we roared out of town alongside the lake again, the warm wind of freedom rushing across our faces. After a few kilometers we came across a restaurant with around twenty motorbikes parked outside. It seemed a good place to pull over for a drink.

I parked up, unstrapped the black skid lid and swaggered on in. Standing in the doorway and a deathly silence befell the reataurant. All eyes turned on us. You could smell the fear in the air as the barman ducked behind his counter and a waiter fled into the kitchen.

I strolled through the motly bunch of bikers, roughly pushing aside a couple of Hells Angel-types who appeared rooted to the floor by terror. I took a chair and thumped my fist on the table, demanding the barman brought over two strong cups of tea.

(... continue)