The Travel to Kathmandu by BMW GS

Arriving in the Himalayan Kingdom of Nepal was like a breath of fresh air after the crowded, dusty and claustrophobic atmosphere of Utter Pradesh. Having spent four months in Nepal previously, we were able to chat to the friendly border officials in broken Nepali and relax.

After clearing all the formalities we set off on the remarkably good roads heading east towards Kathmandu. A ceasefire between the Royal Nepalese Army and the Maoist rebels had been in force for two months so the faces of the young soldiers manning all the checkpoints were considerably more relaxed and happy than I remembered. Being afternoon it was too far to reach the city so we meandered along, enjoying the fresh air and the lush green landscape. In contrast to the crushing mobs or India, people would just take a quick look, smile, give us a wave and then go about their business.

Shortly before dusk we turned off down a track and camped in a wide, sandy valley by the river, our last pitch of the trip. A relaxed night was only interrupted by the sound of an animal sniffing round outside the tent. 'Probably just a mongoose or something,' I concluded, avoiding the possibility of leopards, tigers or a mystical Yeti. This seemed to satisfy my girlfriend and we awoke feeling refreshed to a beautiful sunny morning, lovely vistas and clear air.

The 200km or so to Katmandu felt like a triumphant procession. I couldn't help but smile under my helmet as we chatted on the intercom and flowed along the sweeping roads in the sunlight on a day equivalent to springtime in Europe. The motorcycle, I mused, had been the perfect tool for the job. Comfortable, fast, easy to ride, capable on all surfaces and, most importantly, never missing a beat on the entire journey.

My girlfriend, having already done some riding in South-Europe, took a quick turn on the front for 50km or so. After stopping for some 'chiya' a small glass of very milky, extremely sweet, spiced Nepali tea – we were set for the last leg of all. Guiding the big GS over the twisty mountain section, we swept past all the buses and trucks, jousting with the occasional local hero on a 150cc Pulsar or Hero Honda before cracking open the throttle just a bit more and leaving them behind with a wave.

Finally, the sprawling build-up areas of the Kathmandu valley closed in around us and I was able to negotiate my way into the tourist quarter of the still-familiar city with its plethora of chap hotels and excellent restaurants. We booked into a nice hotel, with secure parking.

On the journey, we had often speculated about what we would do on arrival and had agreed we would go to our favorite restaurant and even chose exactly what we would order. These discussions often took place as we stirred our packet soups or super noodles over the camping stove. After several hours, we emerged from said eatery completely stuffed, having spend nearly US$ 12 – an extremely large bill in Kathmandu.