The rather short distance from Gorakhpur to the Nepalese border, plus the uneventful transit from one country into the other, did not prepare them for the actual mission of advancing farther into Nepal. The border-crossing station was in a large, mostly gray-brown, rocky valley with creeks rushing next to the road. No questioning or investigations took place, only the usual carnet formalities concerning the vehicle and a friendly pat one of the soldiers at the guard station gave Fritzi’s head.
Off they went to nearby Butwal, a large town in southern Nepal. Because of the time of day, they decided to spend the night and then head out to attack the mountain road early the next morning. A local restaurant served the traditional Nepalese menu items dal, bhaat, and tarkari.
The next day rain lashed sporadically while dark clouds raced across the skies. The almost vertical mountain wall on the left side of the road shimmered in black from the moisture running down. A few vehicles, mostly trucks, moved slowly in procession mode up the perilous, steep gravel-and-rock passage through a long valley. Occasionally the water from the mountain wall increased to a torrent that flooded the road. Here and there, some workers with wide straw hats and shovels appeared to be digging into piles of mud. In stop-and-go style, the convoy managed about five miles per hour. Nobody in the Volkswagen thought about a break, instead concentrating fully on the environment and the movements of the vehicles.
Late afternoon it felt as if the pass was coming closer, and then it happened: the river on the right side, which came down from the mountains, filled almost the entire space necessary for any maneuvering of the convoy, and on the left side appeared heavy equipment and men with flags indicating they should stop.
Walter opened his window and yelled, “Why stop?” A road worker pointed toward the mountain wall, and then they saw.
Where previously the valley had broadened somewhat to provide space for a stretched curve to the right, the wall had become alive with masses of gravel and rocks sliding down. A small path had been cleared through the shifting tons blocking the road. Everybody stared at the falling debris.
Then Walter noticed movement in front of him. The truck they were following continued driving, accelerated quickly, pushed itself through water and rock gravel, managed to come free, and disappeared around the corner in the distance. The flagman closest to the Volkswagen raised his hand up and suddenly started to wave with force. Walter put the stick shift in first gear, changed quickly into the next one and started to slide left and right. He saw gravel coming his way. He pushed the gas pedal all the way down, and the yellow camper passed the danger zone.
Within another hour of driving, they found a settlement with some space where they could park the bus. Hilde quickly fabricated a home-cooked meal out of Hungarian cans and leftovers, and later Walter sat on a small chair, rolled a black Afghan joint, and played his guitar with passion for the first time since they had left Frankfurt.
Next morning, bright sunlight awakened the sleepy travelers. Even Fritzi, the puppy, hadn’t risen with the nearby rooster. When Hilde opened the sliding door, she said, “Look, look—the mountains.”
For the first time, they could see a variety of Himalayan Mountains with their snowcaps far away in the clear air. Taking in the view a little longer, Walter prepared their first tea in Nepal while sitting in the door of the dew-covered camp-mobile.
It took them only a couple of hours to reach Kathmandu, at an altitude of forty-six hundred feet. They found the recommended small hotel on the outskirts of the city but within walking distance. The inn provided space for tourists with vehicles and let them use showers and restrooms for a small fee. Walter parked the bus on a spot with a view of mountains as well the city. The couple and Fritzi went shopping to stock up on fresh vegetables, rice, fresh milk, yogurt, and a few other necessities. Sweet leisure time began; resting and recuperating from the miles they had covered became the number one priority.
After a week, Walter’s birthday approached. At the same time, he began to feel uncomfortable with his situation. After five months of traveling, being with the same person twenty-four hours a day had caught up with him. Having to be aware of the environment and other people at all times, wherever they went, made him feel restricted inside the bus with Hilde. The couple talked about it. Hilde said she did not experience the same. When Walter told her about his impasse, she felt hurt and apprehensive. Should they separate for a while and take a room or what else could they do in this situation?
Some days passed during which both of them spent time alone in town on errands. Out of curiosity, Walter investigated the availability and price of Nepalese hash. He found a grocery store that also sold bowls and pieces of local ganja.
The atmosphere between the partners improved gradually. Hilde gave Walter a handmade birthday card, and they made love for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.
The next day a friendly couple they had noticed before from a distance walked over to them and said, “Hello, we are Anthony and Alexi from New York City. Where are you from?”
The Americans had traveled from New York to Greece, where Alexi’s family came from, and then made their way to the East by trains and buses. They had married shortly before they left and considered this journey to be their honeymoon trip, of which they were in the fourth month. After initial information exchanges and extensive talks about their traveling experiences, they smoked a joint together. Anthony picked up his small drum, and Walter strummed the guitar for a while.
The Germans got to know the city by walking through the maze of narrow alleys and countless squares, where people prepared new crops of rice in the open air and dried their laundry. Souvenir shops offered braided bands, woven rugs and carpets, all sizes of colorful cloths, pipes, jewelry made with precious stones, artifacts, and clothing. They visited the Hindu Pashupatinath Temple and walked 365 steps up to the Swayambhunath complex, also called the Monkey Temple because of the holy monkeys that dwelled in parts of it. Kathmandu offered a few restaurants that cooked Western-style dishes the visitors appreciated.
One day the couple joined an organized tour with a young guide. He led the group up a valley where the tourists viewed a variety of villages and how farmers grew rice on terraces attached to the mountainside.
On one of their music and chatting sessions at the bus with Anthony and Alexi, it became obvious that all four wanted to see Pokhara. The new friends asked if they could join Walter and Hilde in the bus when they drove there. “Of course,” said Hilde and Walter. They set a date for departure.
In the late afternoon, the travelers reached the spread-out city of Pokhara, easily accessible within a day’s drive, even allowing for leisure breaks to take pictures and rest along valleys and streams. They investigated a recommendation of where to stay near Phewa Lake. The road wound through a valley, passing shops of all kinds, restaurants, and other businesses. Suddenly it merged onto a large plain. Everybody went silent. Walter stopped the engine, and they all exited the bus.
Majestic, magnificent, and scenic, Dhaulagiri, Annapurna, and Machapuchare, also called Fishtail, all rose up next to each other. These mountains controlled the horizon with their gigantic dimensions and snowcapped peaks. After everybody had soaked up enough of the astonishing first view of the range, Anthony and Alexi went to find accommodations. They discovered a room on top of a grocery store and restaurant building, which also provided space for the camping bus under a large, shady tree. Fritzi enjoyed the new neighborhood as well, because she could run around without any restrictions. The lake on one side, the valley on the other side, and the mountains as a backdrop created an exceptional location. While Alexi, Anthony, and Hilde left for a five-day trek into the mountains, Walter stayed behind with the dog. He wanted to be alone for a while and used the time to see the neighborhood and enjoy food at various restaurants.
One month passed quickly in this healthy neighborhood. Given that the German couple’s schedule put them in Goa for the Christmas holidays, they began to wrap up their visit in ancient Nepal, replaced food supplies, and went to say good-bye to their friends from Brooklyn, New York. To their surprise and delight, the friends asked whether they could travel together for a while because they also wanted to visit Goa but were on a different itinerary. Walter enjoyed the occasional jam sessions with Anthony a lot, and Hilde liked being around Alexi, a fellow female travel companion. When they all completed their chores and errands, everybody said farewell to a number of local people and headed toward the first major attraction of this portion of the trip: the city of Benares on the Ganges River.
About fifty miles into India, the scenery had already leveled into the vast plains of Uttar Pradesh. The team of five drove swiftly along a remote country road. Suddenly Walter, who was in the driver’s seat, noticed two figures in the distance, positioned on both sides of the road, with a barrier pole, which had not been lowered across the road. Two men in khaki shorts and shirts looked in their direction with serious expressions on their faces. When the bus slowly reached them, the guard on the left motioned for the vehicle to stop.
Walter stopped the camper but did not turn off the engine. “What do you want?” he shouted at the man.
“We want to search your whole car for hashish,” said the man while wiggling with his head.
“We have no hashish. Which way to Benares?” Walter asked.
The man with mustache pointed down the road. Unexpectedly for everybody, Walter moved into first gear, floored the accelerator, and quickly shifted into second and then third gear, leaving the two men standing baffled next to the road. They had no weapons, and no telephone wires were connected to their hut at the road. The passengers in the camper, however, feared to be surrounded or shot at least.
“What are you doing? Why are you doing this?” someone in the bus yelled.
“Well, I do have my reason. It is securely hidden, but I did not want to take any risk,” Walter replied, relieved and smiling. Before they left Nepal, he had placed a quantity of black hash on top of the bus, somewhere inside the metal toolbox, under the tarp.
It took the group almost four full days for the trip to Benares, but everybody enjoyed the company and the luxury of traveling the way they did. They alternately cooked their food or ate in purely vegetarian restaurants, since this part of the country did not offer anything else. With good luck and their experience, they found peaceful lodgings each night. Once in a while, during rest stops in the countryside, Anthony and Walter performed with flute and guitar for amazed villagers.
Varanasi, also commonly known as Benares, is considered a holy place by three major religions: the Hindus, the Buddhists, and the Jains. According to legend, the city was founded by the Hindu deity Lord Shiva around five thousand years ago, although most place its age at only three thousand years. Whatever it may have been, when the couples from Frankfurt and New York City entered town, they immediately became immersed in the energy, vitality, and activity of this vibrant and very alive place. Not only local residents populated this large space of land, but also scholars, students, pilgrims, holy people, sadhus, gurus, and many tourists contributed to the mind-boggling experience of being there.
The yellow Volkswagen moved slowly through the ancient scenes and modern traffic, the passengers looking for a place to stay. Nobody could provide any tips or recommendation for this location. At the end of the day, they all agreed on a private place that rented rooms. Anthony and Alexi rented a room; Walter and Hilde decided to sleep in the bus, which they parked in the front of the building. This time, the layover could not be considered peaceful in terms of noise. Indian music—spiritual and popular film tunes—was played throughout the day and night, basically never stopping, adding to the high-energy atmosphere of the town.
The most significant experience, however, was the spectacle at the Burning Ghats, where bodies of the deceased were cremated twenty-four hours a day. Located on the Ganges, the Ghats could be reached by steps that led all the way to the water. On solid concrete squares, workers would place a pile of wood, and when the time arrived, the corpse next in line, wrapped in yellow or orange materials, would be laid on top of the wood. Workers would then light the wood with oils until a large blaze shot up to the sky. A few hours later, ashes and flowers could be scattered into the river.
Attuned to their temporary new neighborhood, the two couples and Fritzi relished the time in “the center of the earth”—according to Hindu cosmology—and with each other.
Because of specific time constraints and places to see on their list, Anthony and Alexi would take the train from Benares to the east coast, to get there quickly, and would then travel to Goa by various methods. They promised to stay in touch and perhaps meet again.
Walter, Hilde, and Fritzi now faced one thousand kilometers on their itinerary, crossing half of the country by heading southwest. Except in New Delhi, they had encountered only two-lane roads. All major highways, motorways, and thoroughfares that crisscrossed the country had only two lanes, which needed to be shared with 95 percent truck and bus traffic and the rest animals and people. It was extremely rare to see a limousine on government business or taxis near cities. The average condition of the road surface was acceptable. The process of sharing the road, however, could be tedious and treacherous. All traffic moved on the left side of the road, as in England. Over time, most street surfaces had curved in the middle so the traversable part became rounded. When a large object such as a truck or bus approached, their smaller vehicle had to slow down and avoid the oncoming traffic. Many times, they needed to drive off the highway completely to avoid collision.
Life happened on and next to the highway. Herds of cows, water buffaloes, goats, monkeys, and poultry passed over and moved on the streets. People tended to be more careful, but many times not when it counted most. Remarkable sights on a daily basis kept the long journey for Hilde and Walter exciting. A flock of huge Indian king vultures or white-rump vultures sitting at the roadside, taking a break, or ripping dead meat out of a carcass reminded them of a savanna in Africa. It was wonderful to see children with a couple of submerged water buffaloes in a pond or sometimes an elephant on duty, pushing a whole tree in front of it.