A Dam Long Bus Ride – 13 April 2023

We started our day at 6.15am with a taxi ride with our guide, Basu, to the city bus station. There we met Ram who is to be our porter for the trek.

Kay and I are quite capable of carrying our own gear, but we wanted to make sure we contributed to the economy.  So we will pack a duffle bag each with the stuff we don’t need through the day and he will carry it for us. We are allowed a maximum of 10kg each but it will be more like 5kg each. He will be a happy porter!!

The bus ride took about 10 hours. The first 5 or 6 were fun but after that it became quite a mission of indurance

The bus was a Delux model boasting wifi, a toilet, TV, charging points, and being on time. It certainly wasn’t a deluxe experience and had only one TV screen playing hours of Bollywood music videos. No wifi or toilet or charging points.

3 young guys hung out the door all day, calling out to potential customers, even though the bus was full from the start.

It took about 2 hours to get through the city and then we we were off over some high mountain passes, up and down, around tight corners, beeping all the way.

Our driver was a bit like a young Kiwi male. He had to overtake anything that he came up behind, even if there was only 10 meters clear road ahead. Beep, beep, crunch the gears, and shut our eyes, and he would go like a bat out of hell.

Kay and I were calling out to any God who was listening to savevus  but the locals just sat there hardly changing their expressions at all.

The first few hours was the highway to India where mist of  the goods to cater for 8 million Nepalese come from. The brightly colored and decorated trucks and buses were continually trying to out do each other and the thousands of motor bikes, cars and vans.

The Chinese are upgrading the roads, putting in tunnels that will take hours off the journey. However, the constant road works really slowed us down. It was quite scary at times looking over the steep banks and seeing workers building retaining walls below us. So there was nothing holding the road up now.

I offered Kay the window seat after an hour and she was adamant that she did not want to see what was going on beside our bus. So if the bus tipped over, it would be me scraping my face on the road.

Next bus instead of walking. Lady car sick plastic bag gave away my goid zip lock bag for her to be dick in and she didn’t even offer it back to me.

The last hour before Besisahar was when we had both had enough. There was lots of little villages and everytime we had to slow down and pick and drop off passengers. The bus got very full and hot. It was a9bout 30° outside and hotter inside. Never the less the windows did open but then there was dust to deal with. We had had enough by the time we arrived in Besisahar.

Besisahar was the end of the road 17 years ago. I remember the streets were full of donkey trains, their bells ringing and really making me smile. This was where I began walking in 2006. Not this time. Buses, trucks, jeeps, and motorbikes filled the narrow streets, spewing out smoke to add to the dust.

By the time our bus arrived, we had settled down and we re ready for the last hours drive. This time, we were sqaushed in the very back seat. Not far down the road, a local lady sirting next to Kay started to heave and call out “plastic bag, plastic bag.”

Being an experienced traveler, I had a decent sized zip lock bag in my bag exactly for this kind of situation. So I whipped it out and saved the day.

Our accommodation for he night was very bright and comfortable. We even had a hot shower.