Bus (Mis)adventure

We’ve tried using local buses and public transport as much as possible this trip.  There's a sense of accomplishment in getting somewhere on our own.  It hasn't been bad, and sometimes led to surprising experiences.  Best of all, it's cheaper than other means by at least tenfold. Unfortunately, as we found out the other day, it can also be that painful.

The trip from Kathmandu to Bhaktapur, despite the mere 15 km, dragged for one hour.  It was a slog of a ride and slower than I’d ever experienced, but we made it fine.  We later whimsically decided to continue to Nagarkot, uphill on the rim of Kathmandu Valley (this would have cost at least $60 by car).  After quickly identifying the right bus to step in, the wait started.  45 minutes later, and packed to the gills, the vehicle finally lurched forward, only to stop again to allow more in.  Yes, we rode one of those buses stuffed with sacks of onions and potato, tons of bodies crammed in, and more riding on top.  An hour later, we arrived in time to get a glimpse of the imposingly stretched out Himalayan Range and the distant Mount Everest at dusk.  Impressive, but the valley below was hazy and the snow line high and thin. 

So we got back on the bus.  This time even more bodies inside, on top, and hanging on.  I counted at least 75 (for about 20 seats).  The creaky metal can could not have rolled down any slower (probably best) and people were squeezing on and off every 100 meters.  We returned to Bhaktapur in pitch darkness.  One and a half hour for 15 km – downhill…  Only to learn that buses to Kathmandu had already stopped running, despite what we had been told earlier.  Following a small group of Nepalis, we then rushed another 1 ½ km to the other side of town to wait for a through bus on a random spot along the dark highway. 

After a bunch of buses passed, one finally seemed headed for our destination.  Completely disoriented now, the bus then made some strange pit stop in a gated compound in the middle of nowhere to load “cargo.” 20 agonizing minutes later, the motor started and we were back on track.  After a bit of a drive I recognized the route, and in time, the guy indicated that this was our stop.  We disembarked somewhere on the outskirts of Kathmandu, but had no idea where.  A cab approached.  Aah, screw it.  We forked over the $5 to get us to the hotel.  30 km in 3 hours…