Phokara-Land. Normality and Insanity.

When you´ve spent some time in Nepal, coming to Phokara lakeside really makes you wonder what country you´re in. You actually do cross a police checkpoint, and the impression couldn´t be any stronger.

Lakeside Phokara is like a really big amount of hotel-and-restaurant architects (sometimes with less, sometimes with more skill) were given a free playground. 
Oh well, it still isn´t Las Vegas (or Thamel, for that matter). It´s still somewhat quiet, relaxed and not too bustling with tourists (now´s not Anapurna season, by the way). 

Somewhere between the tourist who told me happy tales of (comparably) gigantic bakshish payed to the indian police, and the fact that, in the current season, I´ll probably be wet all the time (especially in the south, both from monsoon and sweat), I decided going to India isn´t such a good idea after all. Hey, just one month. For a subcontinent that size, you need about a year. Minimum.

Tomorrow´s back to Kathmandu, and change my flight, get a visa extention, check my indian visa, and then stay another month in Nepal. I kinda like it here.

Food, by the way: Momos. Whether veggies or chickens, buffalo or cheese: Momos are a wonderful variety, with some ties to Newari tradition. The name´s tibetan, however, and a lot of exiles are here and selling stuff. To tourists, mostly.

Getting back to the well-trodden trail has it´s ups and downs: On the one hand, you´re no longer the center of all attention wherever you go. Very relieving, actually. On the other hand, the kind of attention you attract is guaranteed to at least start some attempt at selling something. Anything. Be it a blessing or a bracelet, just buy. 

el d.

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