In Search of the Roads Less Travelled

The first time I went to a developing country I felt fearless and adventurous before I got there. Not for me the comfort of a hotel, potable water, safe roads, reliability. But once I got there, I found myself latching on to any semblance of the comforts of home like the coward I am.

One afternoon, a week into a volunteering trip in Nepal, my partner and I walked from our host family's home up to Patan Dhoka, the entrance to the old part of the city of Patan, and a hub of chaotic activity. Long tables piled with dusty vegetables lined the dirt roads, a woman sat peddling an old sewing machine; motorbikes, some with whole families squeezed onto them, clattered by, dodging small, battered taxis and the occasional shiny four-wheeled drive, horns blaring incessantly. Skinny dogs scavenged outside the butcher shops where hunks of dead animal lay on tables in the open air. Rubbish littered the ground everywhere, and the winter sun struggled to penetrate the gritty smog.

My partner was looking for something to read, so we entered the bookshop and were browsing the shelves, when I noticed, down a short corridor, tables set for dinner. I crept down the corridor and put my head in the doorway. Jazz music played softly. Beyond the room was a cleanly swept courtyard filled with colourful pot-plants, and as I stepped out into it, a woman in a smart uniform greeted me with a warm "Namaste" and asked if I would like to see a menu. After a week of rice and lentils twice a day, every day, the sight of Australian sirloin steak on a menu almost made me cry, but that was before she indicated the bar on the other side of the courtyard. Here was soft lighting, comfortable couches, warmth, and alcohol. We'd found the Dhokaima Cafe.

Now, every afternoon after work, we escaped into this oasis of calm for an hour or two. Over a hot toddy and an Everest beer--or two--we shared stories about our day, before taking a deep breath, and returning to our host family's house, with its hard beds, cold showers, and more rice and lentils. Magically, although the chaos of Nepal raged just outside the walls, in here the noise was muted, the air somehow cleaner.

I've done a couple of stints in Nepal now and know how re-energising it can be to take a break from the real world. It may seem like defeating the purpose of going there, but the reality is, being in a developing country can be exhausting on mind and body, and a little oasis like the Dhokaima can be enough to save your sanity.