After spending a fantastic few weeks in India we decided it was time to change countries once again and made our way to Nepal. But to get from the mountains of Ladakh in the north of India to the western border of Nepal we had to go back down into the plains and the intense heatwave that could be found there.

So our strategy once again was to get up as early as possible in order to take advantage of the relatively cool morning temperatures. And it was a good thing we did because the weather proved almost as fierce as the drivers with midday temperatures reaching 40 degrees.

In what has become typical fashion of late we covered many kilometers and ended up crossing the border into Nepal only 2 days after we left Manali. But almost as soon as we exited India a new adventure was upon us, a country wide strike called for by the Maoists. And the rule of thumb for strikes in Nepal is no traffic allowed between towns or cities.

The first time we heard anything about this strike was just a few kilometers into the country when we approached a long line of vehicles on the side of the road with engines off. So we did as we always do and made our way to the front of the line to see what was holding everybody back. That’s when we saw the tree trunk blocking the road. But this was not your typical redwood type tree. No sir. This particular tree trunk was no more than 3 inches wide and could easily have been moved out of the way by a determined 5 year old. What was really stopping people from driving past (or over) this roadblock was the determined crowd of people mulling about making sure nobody got through.

After visiting over 30 countries on this trip and being subject to illegal police searches, stopped at military roadblocks and almost getting caught up in a demonstration we have learned how to behave in unusual situations. Basically, we pretend that this kind of thing happens to us all the time even if the opposite is true. So when we realized what was going on we simply took off our helmets and shut down the engine.

“You are not allowed to pass” said a young man in the crowd in passable English.

“But why?” I asked him.

No answer. Humm. Not a good sign. Not good at all.

That is when Marie-France saw the women near the tree trunk milling about along with a lone young man. So she went up to him and asked how long it would be before we could pass. He seemed to indicate that the roadblock would be lifted at 12:00, which could have meant at noon, just minutes away, or (gulp!) at midnight.

By this time a nice crowd of about 50 people surrounded the motorcycle, more curious than anything else but some of them did not seem to appreciate our presence. I started getting worried.

And as quickly as the whole thing began it was over when an older man, previously unseen by us, told us that we could go with no explanation given. This caused some fuss among some of the younger guys in the crowd, but in Nepal age and the wisdom that comes with it still counts for something and we were off a few seconds later.

For the rest of the day this scene was repeated, albeit with slight variations, no less than 30 times on a 500 kilometer journey. It must have been around the 10th time when we finally understood that we were in the heart of Maoist country and they were the ones who ordered the strike. But it seems that tourists where strictly off limits and should be allowed to pass without hindrance. And since tourists in the western part of Nepal are a rarity we had the roads of the western half of the country almost to ourselves all day.

The following morning we were in Pokhara, the second biggest city in Nepal and a nice place to relax for a few days. Here is our hotel...

We then spent a day visiting Bandipur with its typical architecture...

A little walk around Bandipur...

And a view of the village...

And spent our last few days in the country in Kathmandu. The polluted capital still has a few remnants of what it once was…

There was only one thing left for us to do which was to send the motorcycle by air to Bangkok (it is not possible to cross Burma with a motorcycle). So after a couple of days of running around our bike was finally in a box…

Then screened by customs…

And eventually arrived in Thailand (photos in next entry).

Brian