Himalayan Wonderland

My trip to Nepal started like it ended – with airport dramas. A missed flight connection forced me to spend the night in Guangzhou, China, until the next flight to Kathmandu, a full day later. The annoyance, however, came with a silver lining: I got put up in a 5-star hotel of my choice, an upper-middle class micro-holiday, which I – as someone who bought the cheapest flight they could find – probably didn’t deserve. So I wasn’t complaining. Much.

Landing in Kathmandu later than planned meant my two days in the capital became little more than another layover. More logistical dramas reduced it further – the taxi couldn’t find my hostel so I lost another two hours in a bicycle rickshaw searching for it.

Pokhara is the second largest city in Nepal, but to most tourists who stay in and don’t leave Lakeside (the tourist district) it feels like a charming little town. Situated in a valley beside Phewa Lake, the mountains rise very quickly, and within 30 kilometres the elevation rises from 1000 to 7500 metres. The most striking peak you can see from Pokhara is Machhapuchhre, or ‘Fishtail’ Mountain, and it photobombs every picture taken from the street. Pokhara is a mountaineering hub (it’s the base for the famous Annapurna Circuit trek) and a beacon to the outdoorsy traveller. Here you can hike, raft, bungee, paraglide, play golf at one of the most scenic courses in Asia, and of course, ride motorbikes.

Our crew – six Aussie wannabe rebels from a variety of walks of life, living in six different cities across three different countries – met up here to ride motorbikes and play golf. The motorbiking aspect was courtesy of Hearts and Tears Motorcycle Club, a business based in Pokhara that runs group motorbike tours primarily on Royal Enfield Bullets – the world’s longest-living and arguably most handsome motorcycles. Originally British made and owned, and brought to India during Crown rule, the bikes have been wholly Indian made and owned since 1949, and still look incredible.

Hearts and Tears is owned and run by Matt, an Aussie friend I met as a fellow exchange student in Mexico City a decade ago. Hearts and Tears has grown to become one of the finest motorcycle tour companies in Asia, with spectacular tours on offer for beginners right up to biking aficionados. Three of us in the group were definitely in the novice skill range, having barely any motorcycling experience (one got up early and had a two hour lesson on the morning that we were leaving). The fact that all bikes were manual only added to the challenge.

We made it to Bandipur by late afternoon: a quaint hilltop town along a mountain saddle just 200m long and barely wide enough to accommodate a strip of buildings on either side of the main street. The last 8km of the road to Bandipur ascends 1000 metres, making it a challenging, winding incline which, I regret to admit, I stalled on in full view of the crew, began to roll backwards, and lost all the riding credit I thought I was building.

Our accommodation in Bandipur was a beautifully restored old-style inn with dark wooden detailing, smoky old bricks and low ceilings. It felt a bit Dickensian, except it had Wi-Fi. We enjoyed a few well-earned beers and reminisced on the day’s ride, patting ourselves on the back for surviving. We were served a feast of house roasted pork, potato and gravy and retired by 9pm due to sheer exhaustion.

Day three was the longest ride: 160kms to a town called Tansen. After another ultra-scenic lunch stop, the late afternoon ride was one of the best: a lively exploration through a labyrinth of small alleyways, and the loud roar of the bikes attracted everyone’s attention. Sunset fell for the final 10kms along a ridgetop, a stretch memorable for its colour and pastoral serenity. We spent the evening at an organic farm nestled in a quaint valley and were served the world’s tastiest smoked bacon, among other things, before retiring beside a hearty fire. The morning revealed the real charms of this rustic farmhouse and, after a smashing breakfast with the leftover bacon, we were all a little sad to leave knowing it would be our last day looking tough on a bike.

The next few days in Pokhara were spent recovering, reflecting, playing golf, and buying pashminas and handwoven rugs. One last overnight hike to the aptly named Australia Camp brought another surreal sunrise, and I began to convince myself that perhaps I could become a morning person. The gang disbanded over the next 24 hours, and after some more airport dramas, which nearly broke my spirit, I finally made it home. My heavily pregnant wife gave birth a few weeks later, and we all lived to tell the tale. Just don’t tell her I came off the bike twice.

Amidst the foothills of the Annapurna ranges and nestled within the gorge of the Bijaypur River sits one of the most unique and awe-inspiring golf challenges in the world. The Himalayan Golf Club may be a relative newcomer to golf, but it has quickly cemented the title as one of the most unique courses found anywhere. Designed and constructed by ex-British Army Commissioned Officer Major Ram Bahadur Gurung and opened in 1998, the 18-hole layout features the extreme elevation changes one might expect of a golf course in a country hosting eight of the world’s ten highest mountains.

Holes 1 and 2 take advantage of the small parcel of land available between the clubhouse and mothballed resort construction that flank the entrance drive. While not overly inspiring, they provide a somewhat safeguarded introduction to Nepalese golf, with thick Paspalum grass varieties and discrete well-placed hazards making a pair of pars to start with more than acceptable. The transition from the cliff top to the canyon is dramatically presented with the 3rd tee shot of the round: the drive shoots up into the Annapurna ranges before dropping for over ten seconds of hang time to a narrow fairway 200 feet below. Depth perception becomes critical as you plan your approach to the 3rd green, with anything over length falling victim to the snow-fed river. The front of this green, as with many here, is protected from the fairway maintenance herds by barbed wire fencing, reminiscent of the recently restored Ratho Farm in Tasmania, Australia’s oldest operating golf course.

The majority of the back 9 meanders back and forth across the river, and every hole offers a quirk or two. Blind approaches over plateaus, cliff top greens, rickety bridges, locals picnicking, buffalo swimming – as with the rest of Nepal, there’s always something to surprise. During our visit, a ragtag crew of local caddies, ball spotters and curious kids meant that there were about a dozen of us navigating the course at times during the round. At 34°C with little breeze, everyone was feeling the heat in the valley as we neared the end of the loop. At the 12th hole we realised we were low on water and golf balls, but our caddies quickly located a mountain stream with fresh water to fill our bottles, as well as a backup supply of balls at $1 each (we churned through most of those as well).

No great golf course is complete without a well-equipped 19th, and the Himalayan Golf Club meets all the criteria. Set atop a cliff overlooking the course and mountain ranges, the clubhouse provides a spectacular backdrop to a well-earned Sherpa (Nepal’s best beer as judged by us), which can be enjoyed alongside the current Chairman of the club, Bhuwan Gurung. If you feel as though you left a shot or two on the course, Bhuwan enjoys nothing more than the challenge of hitting the 6th green from the 3rd tee, only a stone’s throw from the bar.