Jump

While I was out trekking for ten days the bugs invaded my room at Three Sisters. They scuttle across my walls and floors. The large spider I didn't mind sharing the bathroom with is nowhere to be found as the parade of ants carries away large pieces of unidentifiable things. In the morning, I catch them trying to make off with my toothbrush and have to send the brigade to their afterlife.

One particular night I had to fight a waterbug for the rights to the toilet seat. If you've ever seen a palmetto bug in the south, they're just like them − large brown armored bodies with squirmy multiple legs and long antennae... only they crawl up through the water pipes and drains. If you've never seen a palmetto bug... think roach the size of a hamster, but not cute and fuzzy. Knocked into the toilet bowl and flushed down three times he kept swimming back up, each time with more defiance than the last until I had to decapitate him with a toilet brush. I would have left him as a distraction for the ants but there was too much satisfaction in the final flush.

So it was that morning I went to the travel agent, sensing the perfect time for a good pampering in Bangkok. With Nepal Air's notorious reputation for being late, if they get off the ground at all, I thought it best to switch to Thai Air... the golden peacock of flight and service.

“We can't cancel your flight for a refund. You have to use the travel agent you booked it through,” Adam Travel in Pokhara informed me. “But we can change the ticket or book the Thai flight.” Manang Travel was found online during the initial trip preparations because Nepal Air's website doesn't have interactivity for booking flights. They sent a receipt that said I paid $1000 in cash for my ticket but in fact, I had paid $600 by credit card to fly from Bangkok to Kathmandu round trip. I'm sure they charged the airline the $400 difference after charging me a non existent $145 Foreign National Tax they claimed was out of their control.

“No, you paid too, too much and tax should only be $40.” the Pokhara agent confirmed. Manang emailed back to say they would work on my travel changes but I never heard from them after my inquiry about the receipt and extra tax charges. Nepal Air only has one plane, which only flies three times a week and Adam Travel books the next flight out, which means I have to be on a bus tomorrow for Kathmandu. At one point two of the agents each have two phones to their heads talking simultaneously into both just trying to get the bus, plane and hotel secured.

I have one more day in Pokhara before the seven hour bus trip back to Krazytown and the Kathmandu Guest House, supposedly a swankier place at $25 a room. After a farewell dinner at the Moondance and leisurely stroll back to the other end of town, I stop at a convenience store. I am staring at shelves of chocolate in a pleasant trance. Almost brushing shoulders with someone, I look up to see another woman trancing out over the chocolate choices. She is dressed in the rich colors of traditional India, a russet scarf drapes her head and shoulders. As she turns to me, from under the veil is a broad smile, cheekbones rising up with recognition.

“So here we are in the chocolate,” Gabby laughs. We walk back to her guest house, even farther down the lake than mine and I watch her performances of traditional dances of India on her computer. The hand maneuvers alone are a language in of itself as she gracefully splashes and skims through shore water on a beach at sunset, feet and body poised.

No need for teary goodbyes this time since we'll most likely run into each other again in a forest or chocolatier's somewhere down the line. Hours later I'm feeling my way down the dark night on an unlit road to Three Sisters to finish packing for the early bus ride.

The same driver and co pilot that took me to Pokhara navigate the bus through mountain curves, traffic, goats and grandmas back into Kathmandu, still crazy and thick with people, filth and dust. At the Kathmandu Guest House, the accommodations are only slightly better than the $15 room at Hotel Karma. The staff is helpful though and switch me to another room, which is about the same but without the acrid smell of cigarettes. I find my favorite vegetarian bookstore, Pilgrim Books, with its restaurant in the back garden, and order the Tibetan Thukpa soup.

On the street, the touts and shopkeepers are relentless in clawing to get anyone into their store, taxis and rickshaws practically run over tourists in trying to get them to stop and get in, street hawkers push little violins, flutes and trinkets into your face with hopes that you'll buy their crap. If you're talking to someone, reading your map, or writing in your journal they'll stand there breathing on you and then follow. They all try to engage you in conversation for the sole purpose of getting you to buy. I doubt I will ever return to Kathmandu except to pass through its airport en route to a trek. I spend the rest of the night in the gardens behind the gated guest house.

At the Kathmandu Airport, Nepal charges 1700 rupies (about $23) to get out of their country. Through numerous security checks in a small airport I am felt up and patted down by four different women, the last on the tarmac as we're boarding the plane. Men to the left, women to right, we form a line for feelies. My special mantra of music and positive thoughts will hopefully help lift this solo, overworked jet into the air − as the engines grind into a hum not heard on other planes I turn up the ipod. Some three hours later we slam down in Bangkok.

No visa, I stand in line for almost an hour to get one on arrival only to find I don't need a visa for the four day stay. Thailand makes it easy for tourists to stay and spend money, and they do it all with a pleasantly sincere smile and “Sawadee.” No one wants to exchange my Nepalese rupies so I'm stuck with several thousand of them.

The Banglumpoo Guest House is not elegant by any standards however it's only $395 baht (about $11, mostly because the US dollar is so weak), relatively clean, spacious and I can walk or taxi easily to almost anywhere. I find pad thai at a street food cart, order new prescription glasses and get a two hour massage before heading to slumberland to dream of green curry for breakfast.

Below: Bangkok's Khao San Road with tourists who can't say no to buckets of "Really Strong Drink" the street touts push for the bars.