Getting to Gatlang

Raju, Hari, Aaron and I are headed for the villages of Nessing and Gatlang and to get there we opt to take the bus for 400 rupees ($5) vs. our own personal rented jeep for $500 USD. We wake up at 4:30am to get ready for a 5am taxi. Fortunately we wake up with electricity and it is scheduled to run till 5am but at 4:40am it turns off so we finish packing via candle and flash light. We opt for breakfast on the road due to time constraints.

The taxi arrives on schedule and we manage to fit 4 guys, 4 packs, and the taxi driver (with the help of a shoe horn) into the small cab and off we go. We arrive at the bus depot which is really just a place on the street where several buses converge. Street vendors are lined up hoping to peddle their wares and some have fires going to fight of the sub-zero temperatures. We finally embark on a 40 seat bus with about 50 others. Luggage just gets tossed on the top rack.

Aaron and I are in the front seat in front of the door and I am thankful because about 20 minutes into the trip I start to have a potential heaving feeling in my gut. Sure enough, about 15 minutes later, I push the door guard aside, stick my head out as best I could and start to hurl. The door guard quickly opens my window, and I stick my head out and purge what little is left. Did I tell you that I was thankful that I did not have breakfast that morning else I might have been a bad steward of the food granted to me.

To stop the bus, the door operator smacks the side of the bus once, and sure enough, one smack and we grind to a halt. Several men exit the bus and line the ditch to have a late morning pee. Soon, everyone is back on and 2 smacks later, we are on the road again. Soon, the bus stops again and this time, 6 guys come down from the roof into an already packed bus. Just past the corner, there is a police check and apparently roof top travellers are a sure way for the driver to obtain a fine. Once past the check point, the roof guys exit the bus, while we are travelling, swinging from the door and scurry up a latter on the side of the bus.

A roadside traveller motions the bus and we stop while the traveller embarks. Smack, smack...and off we go again. This happens every 5-15 minutes until we have a jam packed bus. Once again the roofees come down and squeeze into the bus which now resembles a sideways can of sardines. At one point, a mother put her baby on Aaron’s lap, but after a 10 second observation of Aaron’s questioning look, she retakes her responsibility into her own hands. Passengers often will embark with baskets, sacks of food, and even 2 jerry cans of a liquid that resembled gasoline. At one point we stopped and 10 people got off. When we continued it was still so jammed packed that it seemed like no one got off.

The road quickly turns from a 1 ½ lane road to a narrow 1 lane. Most of the vehicles are buses, trucks or motor cycles with very few cars on the road we are on. Honk, honk, we are approaching a corner around the mountain and when you can’t see what is coming, that is what you are supposed to do. Every time a vehicle approaches, both vehicles slow down to a crawl with one vehicle just squeezing by the other. That is only possible on certain segments of the road. Sometimes one vehicle has to backup till they get to a place that will allow the other to sneak by. Honk, honk comes from behind, so the bus moves over at an appropriate spot and a motor cycle passes us. Sometimes our bus is behind a truck honking and eventually we over take the obstacle impeding our progress. Once the door operator sees that we have a few millimeters of clearance he smacks the side of the bus signalling the driver, once again, to obey his command.

The road is pretty good in spots and we get to go 40-50km/hr. Honk, honk, we slow down to 30 as we once again careen a curve. Soon the road gets really rough and we are down to 5km and the old rickety bus is creaking and groaning as the pot holes flex the worn out frame from one side to another. In some places the road is so narrow that as we inch around a rough patch I am convinced that only one of the two dual wheels is on the road and the other it looking 500ft down the side of the mountain. Once again, we are off to the races and enjoying 40 km/hr on the short brief straight away. On the way home, around one of those corners, we meet a motor cycle who jams his brakes only to his horror finds himself sliding into the side of the bus. Screech...the bus stops in 2 seconds. Thud, the bike smacks the side. The driver of the bus looks out of his window to watch the cyclist shake it off and just continue on like it was some kind of daily occurrence. There also were a few words spoken that sounded like they might be unsanctified.

Our travels are taking us up the side of a mountain range only to go down the other side and then repeat the process as we traverse only through mountains. (Nepal is 90% Mountains.) The North side of the mountain gets very little sun and so at one point we are on the north side of a mountain that had snow the night before. We are at an area called Ramsey and the bus stops and informed us that he is turning around and we all have to get off. As we look ahead, we see an army truck stuck with around 15 soldiers trying to push it onwards. As we all disembark, we noticed two other westerners on the bus. I ask one of them where she is from and find out that she is from Edmonton Alberta Canada and her friend is from Vancouver Island. Her name is Jody Robinson and her friend Sharlena Judith Wade. Sharlena moved to Kathmandu permanently and is operating a bed and breakfast there called The Sparkling Turtle. Jody and Charlene are going to visit another friend’s hotel. Raju informs me that we have a 2 day walk to our destination so I inform him that the sooner we start the sooner we will get there.

Behind the bus is a yellow dump truck that is waiting in the queue to attempt the icy road. We ask if it is possible to hitch a ride and he informs us that if he can get past the impasse, he would be willing. So we walk past the army truck and observe inexperience to snowy/icy conditions. Sharlena and Jody take it upon themselves to give the army driver some winter driving tips and sure enough, the truck starts to move in its intended direction. At one point, the truck passes the army vehicle and stops ½ a km down the road and waits for us to catch up to it. We are all in the truck but Jody is waiting for Charlene who eventually saunters up to the truck, climbs up the side and joins the gang. We slowly spin past some more treacherous road as we past more army personal with shovels and picks. They appear to be de-icing the road. We even pass a huge caldron of hot water over an open fire which was also being used to achieve their goal. We eventually get past the bad patch and we are now enjoying some fine scenery from a very strategic lookout point.

There are many police and army checks along the way. I have no idea what the purpose of it is. Every checkpoint has a small hut with a chair behind a stack of cement bags. The blue uniforms are police and the green are army. Sometimes we get stopped by one, than then go a 50 ft to get stopped by the other. Many of these stations had a small station made of cement bags on three walls and sport a few army dudes with guns. Sometimes, at a check point, the official will walk in the bus and then walk out (of course about 12 people standing in the aisle have to get out first to let him in.) Sometime, they want to scamper up the side of the bus to have a look on top. But each time is seems like just a routine. As we are moving along in our truck, he stops at one of these check points that seems to have several of these gun stations and reams of barb wire hanging around.
Apparently we are at the Lang Tang park entrance and they want to extract a park fee of $40 USD from each westerner. I guess all the extra army personal, guns and wire means they mean business. So $40 poorer we leave the post and stop at Dhunche for a short break and some exchange of passengers.

Our next stop was at Serprobasi where we dropped off our Canadian friends. We then slithered down the side of a mountain of a crazy set of hair pin turns only go find ourselves snaking up the next mouth up an equally convoluted road system. The only difference was this road obviously seen very little traffic and the road department’s budget reflected that. We eventually ended up at Baundhara as that was the truck’s final destination. It only cost us $50 rupees each. We then walked the last stretch and ended up at our intended destination; a hotel at Chauhattar 1 km from Gatlang. These last few pictures, if you look close, you can see how the road snakes back and forth. That is all for now.