nepali walkabout

 

Ever since the cable cars went up and the Shah stock went down, even the time-honoured pilgrimages to Manakamana and Gorkha Palace have faded from popular Nepali consumption.  Why would it bother anyone that the classic backpacker’s circuit of the Annapurnas can now be experienced  from the back of a bus? Nepalis were never ones for walking for the heck of it.

Which is all very well if you actually live in the hills. Walking’s just something you have to do, whether you’re going to school or carting your house to your plot, piece by piece. Why make a song and dance about it – then load the evidence on facebook?

But for the burgeoning numbers of Nepalis who are no longer pakhes, but throng the thoroughfares of urban conglomerations across this strip of the Himalayas, mountains are, increasingly, just mountains. We’re proud of ‘em, but leave ‘em to the tourists. We’ve got better things to do.

Like what? After the hours of work are done and dusted, where do you spin your mind? Is it in the clusters of dance bars that you peg your imagination down? Is it in the endless rounds of Marriage that you dull your senses? Or is it in the feeble social commentary of Jire Khursani that you plumb your depths? Can the more adventurous amongst you distinguish between that time in Pokhara and that other time in Pokhara?

 Take a hike. You’d be surprised how naturally it will come to you. One of the few things Nepal has going for it is its enduring beauty – get out there and see what the whole world has been talking about these past fifty years. You think you know what I’m talking about? You ain’t seen nothing yet.

Ok, I’m sold, you say. But I don’t have the time. Or the energy. I wouldn’t know where to start, either.

That won’t do. The joy of having so many mountains is the range of ways you can zigzag over them. Day hikes, weekend rambles, teahouse fortnights and 6000 metre gutbusters. And city walks. When was the last time you wandered in and out of the courtyards of the three valley kingdoms?

It’s easy once you get started. If you can’t rouse your slumbering comrades-in-arms for a little mountain madness, follow in the footsteps of those who’ve gone before. Nepali Kukur will be waiting at the top of the hill, politely deflecting the inevitable queries from bemused locals: Tapai Nepali ho? Ghumna aunubhako?