Nepal – November 2025
After a few days in Pokhara, I board a public bus heading east toward Dumre, where I squeeze into a local minibus for the final climb up to Bandipur. The driver quickly realizes I’m not local and charge me an inflated tourist fare, a reminder that even in Nepal’s quieter corners the “foreigner price” occasionally appears. The winding road climbs through dense fog before the hilltop town slowly emerges above the valley. Bandipur immediately feels different from Pokhara. Instead of lakeside cafés and trekking agencies, there’s a long bazaar lined with old Newari houses, wooden windows and brick facades. I spend my first hour wandering from guesthouse to guesthouse looking for a room. Most places are either fully booked or far beyond my budget. Eventually, I find a small family-run hotel tucked away from the main street.
The room is simple but perfect: top floor, hot shower and a small balcony overlooking the hills. With most of the afternoon still ahead of me, I head back into town for a slow walk through the bazaar and a light lunch at Pratiksha Restaurant. The main street is crowded with domestic tourists, many visiting from Kathmandu for the weekend. Families rent traditional clothing for photo sessions while younger couples film TikToks in front of the old buildings. Some groups span three generations, grandparents patiently waiting while children pose for endless pictures. The further I move away from the center, the quieter Bandipur becomes. Down the narrower alleys boys play with a dog in the dust while elderly women sit outside tiny corner shops. Behind heavy wooden doors I glimpse gardens filled with flowers and vegetables.
Back at the hotel I spend the evening watching fog drift through the valley below my balcony before the sunset briefly paints the hills orange. Later I meet Martina and Evi (whom I hiked with on the Annapurna Circuit) for dinner at Samsara Bandipur together with two French travelers they had met earlier in Pokhara. Like most evenings in Nepal, dinner stretches on far longer than planned. After several refills of our Dal Bhat, we walk across the still lively bazaar. At its very end, a small eatery suddenly turns into an openair disco, when kids on a school trip request the latest Tiktok/Bollywood hits. Delighted to see foreigners, they ask us to join. I use the opportunity to enquire about the name of a song that I’ve been hearing throughout my stay in Nepal. Then it’s time for the kids to go to bed and we stop at a bakery for a chocolate lava cake before heading home too.
The next morning, I set out for Ramkot, a village a few hours away from Bandipur. Before leaving, I stop at ISYA for what might genuinely be the best chai I have during my entire time in Nepal. From there I follow the main road until spotting a small sign pointing toward a dirt track leading to Ramkot. The walk quickly becomes spectacular. Fog fills the valleys below like an ocean while distant snowy Himalayan peaks occasionally appear through gaps in the clouds. For long stretches I have the trail completely to myself. I try to follow Maps.me but eventually give up and simply continue along a gravel road for several kilometers, trusting that it must lead somewhere. Just when I start to question my trust, stone stairs appear on the right and take me up to Ramkot. Life here moves at an entirely different pace.
A family gathering echoes with chanting somewhere behind a lush garden. Chickens dart across the paths while goats pull at piles of hay. Corn dries on rooftops and an old man walks slowly through the village accompanied by his grandchild and a curious cat. I continue uphill toward the western edge of the settlement where a small viewpoint overlooks the surrounding hills. The same grandfather points toward a distant snow-covered peak and proudly tells me it is Mount Manaslu. Back in the village I stop at Culture Home Restaurant & Home Stay for chai and brunch, spending nearly two hours there reading and talking with the owner. He explains that the local community belongs to a hill tribe with customs and language distinct from the Newari culture found in Bandipur. Agriculture remains central to daily life, though tourism is slowly becoming more important as increasing numbers of hikers discover the area.
Around lunchtime several trekking groups begin arriving and the peaceful atmosphere changes immediately. Wanting one final quiet walk, I ask the owner of the restaurant/homestay for directions back toward Bandipur using a forest trail. His explanation is wonderfully vague but somehow perfectly clear: “Other end of village. Walk through the gate. Turn left on the small path after the fourth house.” And so, I go. Relieved when a large group of older Italian hikers continues along the main road, I disappear alone into the forest. The trail winds through shaded woodland with magnificent views opening between the trees. Apart from a few distant voices, the path is silent. Back in Bandipur, I end the day exactly where it began: a hot shower, fog rolling through the hills outside my balcony and another dinner at the same restaurant as the night before.
The following morning, I catch an early local bus down to Dumre, this time paying the actual local fare, before continuing onward to Kathmandu in a cramped van packed far beyond capacity. It’s an uncomfortable journey, and I almost burn off my tounge with a spicy roadside snack, but after the calm of Ramkot even the chaos somehow feels like part of the experience.
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