A bad day for goats

Trip Start Feb 06, 2005
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Trip End Jul 2005


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Flag of Nepal  ,
Monday, April 25, 2005

We joined the hordes of people that desperately sought to escape Kathmandu after the blockade, and jumped on a local bus to Gorkha, the old capital of Nepal, and the birthplace of the famous soldiers of the same name who are eagerly poached by the British SAS. The story goes that in WWII they asked for volunteers from the Gorkha brigades for the mission of jumping out of planes behind enemy lines. Half the forces stept forward. When it was explained that they would have parachutes the other half stepped forward too.
Our need to escape the city and see something new involved getting a bus designed to carry 40 people but actually carrying 70. I don't know how they stood bent over for 7 hours (they say 5, but always add an hour or two for Nepalese time estimates), but there was no way in hell we were going to, so we paid extra and forced our way into the seats we paid for. Karma gave us cramping from the tiny seats, but it was better than nothing!
Gorkha is a beautiful city, despite the fact that most of the country is covered in smog in april-may and the mountains are thus hidden from view of the lowlands. The scenery was a cross between the river gorges in Laos and Sydney bushland. We even spotted a bottlebrush tree!
The next day we walked up to the fort which overlooks the town, followed all the way by a few curious kids interested in seeing what the only white people around would do. To our surprise and their enjoyment we had somehow hit a big holiday. By holiday, I mean bloodbath. You know, like Kalimar (the temple in Indiana Jones where he rips out the hearts with his hand and there's an annoying kid called kid and an annoying chick whose name nobody cares about. By-the-by that temple to Kali is actually in Nepal and the bloody days are tuesdays and saturdays). Anyway, so we ended up walking (in thongs) through the temple and down the stairs which were literally running with blood, because through was the only way out. I've never seen so many headless corpses in all my life. Compared with the goats, the chickens on new years got it easy.
We left for Pokhara the next day with a joy in our hearts that was inevitably crushed like so many chips at the bottom of a packet by a bus ride more evil than the one which had brought us. Aah so, you can't win 'em all.
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