Tuesday 9 October 2007

The Carry On to Kathmandu


Our bus to Kathmandu was run by a bunch of cowboys. We had banded together with a group of backpackers knowing that with the power of 10, we were much more likely to negotiate a good price for transport from the border into town.

We had expected to find a few buses and loads of cars eager for our business but when we stepped away from the immigration hut it seemed the two or three buses that were left (and no cars) were going to hold the superior hand in the negotiations.

It was not long before we had one of the buses sorted though. After rigorous checking and cross checking with the driver regarding the deal (we have all been in these situations countless times now) we had all agreed on the price, that the bus was going to leave in no more than 20 minutes, that there would not be anybody sitting on the aisles with chickens and what not, and that our bags would come in the bus and be in our sight all the time and that we would pay half now and half at the end. Deal made and we got on the bus.

No sooner did we all sit down than the driver said he had just spoken to the driver and that the price was too low. 'You said you were the driver', 'no, I'm not the driver, I'm assistant'. Some more arguing and disputing but we settle on the new price, lets just get going. We don't seem to be going anywhere and it's 15 minutes since we were supposed to have gotten on the road. 'the driver says not enough people' we are told. 'We agreed 10 people, we agreed price, we agreed to leave 15 minutes ago'. Boy shuffles off, new man arrives on the scene. 'The bus can not go without more people, we'll lose money with only ten people'. There were five Chinese tourists who were hanging around nearby seemingly stuck for transport so we made a new deal that if we got them on board the bus would then leave straight away. We sent forth our best negotiators and they hopped on board. Still no movement. Another man appears - 'the bags must go on the roof', in unison 'NO', then less in unison, shouting and repetitions of the arrangement. We have now been sitting on the bus for about an hour but we hear that 'the driver is at immigration, he can not get to the bus, you will all have to get off the bus', then 'the bus is broken you will all have to get off the bus', then 'there is a problem get on this other bus'. We remain adamant that we are staying put, for as long as they try and change the deal, they can't get their bus back and we are resolved to sit this one out. The Chinese are starting to buckle though and have sent forth an envoy to find a car for themselves - cheers for the solidarity on that one guys. Then during all the shouting one of the bus guys reckons an authoritative voice will make us get off the bus and jumps on and shouts 'right, I've had enough, everyone get off the bus now, it's not moving, get off the bus'. We all shout back, the Chinese are getting very twitchy, especially without their front man because the bus men are trying to target them individually and get them off the bus and on to a different one. The other bus looked much dodgier, already had chickens and a crowd of people on the roof and at least on our bus we were already an hour and a half into the nonsense that we would have to begin again on the other bus.

We start asking how there can be a driver for the other bus, which we have been promised is empty and just for us and why he can't drive this bus. We ask why the driver of the bus is stuck at immigration since the bus never crossed the border and several other questions when suddenly a voice pipes up, 'Okay, the bus can go now but for 500 rupees each'. That was the moment we were all waiting for, because that was the evidence we needed to insist that it moved now and that they stopped their carrying on and that the driver got on. At this point, a taxi arrives for the Chinese, and also simultaneously another four people who, if we can get them on the bus, will have filled up the remaining empty seats and surely mean they there was nothing else to wait for. If the Chinese got off though and took the taxi which had come up and parked beside the bus we would be back to the same situation. We grabbed these new people and threw them into the seats before they could think about it, with all the pressure of the ten of us, forced the Chinese to stay on the bus, with one last effort, told the bus drivers to get it sorted and get going and finally it seemed to happen, two and a half hours after we had been told we'd leave in twenty minutes.

We started moving and after a further fight regarding us only paying half now and half at our destination (central Kathmandu) things seemed to be going fine. It was slow going, the roads in Nepal are not very good and with the monsoon season only ending 7 or 8 hours ago there were lots of hastily cleared landslides to squeeze between. The scenery was stunning though, driving through gorges that raced up and down either side, kilometers in height with water falls everywhere and such vibrant green vegetation covering every available space. There was no doubting we were in a new country. The trucks are all Indian, with fantastically ornate paint jobs, and a surprising tendency to pay homage to the Union Jack flag. Breakdown triangles are an adornment and they drive on the left side of the road here too, marking a difference to China. We kept finding trucks parked up in unusual spots because the drivers were all stopping to wash in their underpants under the waterfalls. We had lots of children waving at us and smiling, which made a pleasant change from the usually slightly sullen and confused looks of the Chinese children, and we found that the drivers here, although similar in driving standard to the rest of Asia, prefer to slow down for animals on the road rather than speed up towards them. The horns on the vehicles are every bit as loud as elsewhere but amusingly they all honk out tunes when sounded, often resulting in a cacophony of jingles when a slow vehicle holds the rest up.

Our non stop bus only made about three or four long stops on the way to the city, not including the quick stops to pick up passengers to sit in the aisle and on the roof. The last stop was about 30 Km's out of Kathmandu where we picked up the very guy we had been negotiating with, 5 hours and a hundred kilometers back at the border. 'Okay you pay the rest now'. We corrected him and he resigned himself to sit with the driver. Five minutes later, the bus stalls and doesn't seem to want to start again, odd considering there had been no hint of a problem earlier. We don't buy it and we let them know. With what must have either been magic dust or good fortune, the bus seemed to be working again and about an hour later we arrived in the Thamel district of Kathmandu. We paid the rest of the money, shouted a bit at each other and then headed on our way en mass to tour the available hotels, dropping off one by one as we each found what we wanted.

Valerie, Nicolas and ourselves were still together at this point and it seemed sensible to sit two people down with the bags while the other two continued looking. Being nothing short of gentlemen, Nicholas and I sat down with a couple of beers and sent the girls forth to find suitable digs, which they did, but not before we had time to order a second beer. By the end of the escapade we had discovered another difference with Nepal - their beer is stronger.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Woohoo! Go you guys!

Anonymous said...

That's an incredible story! I bet you'll never complain about getting a taxi in Glasgow again :-D