We finally left Nepal after using the entire two months of our visas. There was a chance that we would have to overstay because of a nation-wide transportation strike, but fortunately it ended the day we had planned to leave and we crossed the India-Nepal border the day our visas expired.

Leaving Nepal

The journey was a long one, starting at 8:45 am from our hotel in Sauraha, right outside of Royal Chitwan National Park. We took a jeep to the bus stand a few kilometers away and got on a bus that took us to Bhairawa, a four and a half hour journey. The bus was pretty cramped (for tourist buses in Nepal) and made all of the usual stops: bathroom breaks by the side of the road where anyone who needs to go just hops out and does their business right there. Since this is just how it’s done, seeing people pissing by the side of the road is a very common sight in Nepal.

Bhairawa is about four kilometers from the border, and from there it’s necessary to take a rickshaw to Sonauli, where you actually cross the border. We were the only tourists left on the bus when it pulled into the station, and there were about ten guys waiting to sell us train tickets or bundle us into their rickshaws immediately. Not sure of what kind of facilities awaited us at the border (this was our first land border crossing of the trip, and first over all, not counting Europe), we wanted to eat something and use the bathroom in town before going to India.

We walked for a while to get to a hotel with a restaurant where we had lunch, cleaned up, and prepared to cross. They have an acronym for India in Nepal: “I’ll Never Do It Again.” Of course they also say that Nepal is “Never Ending Peace And Love.” I’m not so sure about all that, but lots of travelers hit India before going to Nepal, especially when going overland from Istanbul to Kathmandu. So a good number of people in Kathmandu have just come from India, and we heard all the usual stories about how difficult it can be to travel in India.

Crossing the border was not at all what we expected. Most of the traffic heading to and from India comes in the form of big trucks, which spew exhaust fumes into the air. You have to take a rickshaw to within a hundred meters or so of the actual border, and before walking across you have to stop at the Nepal Immigration building and get your exit stamp. That took about five minutes, and then we just walked across, along with a constant traffic jam of motorcycles, cars, heavy trucks, and people. It’s a dusty, noisy, chaotic place filled with moneychangers, snack stands, and vendors of all sorts.

Welcome to India

On the Indian side we just walked to their immigration building, filled out a form, and got our visas stamped (we got our visas in Kathmandu, a process that takes about a week). That was it. We could have had backpacks full of contraband and nobody would have ever known. After changing our Nepali rupees into Indian rupees, we found a bus heading to Gorakhpur. From there you can get on a train heading to Varanasi, which was our plan. The bus was cheap (about $1 for a 3 hour journey) but far from comfortable. Buses usually don’t leave until they are full. The definition of full varies considerably from the Western definition in many places; India is certainly no exception. They got about fifteen more people on the bus than I would have thought possible.

We arrived in Gorakhpur at about 7pm, and planned to take a night train at 11:20 pm to Varanasi, arriving at 6:15 am the following day. I had heard from several people that train stations in India are filthy, zany places with people all over the floor. This is true. I imagine that most of the people are waiting for trains, which arrive and leave at all hours of the day and night, but many of them are probably homeless. It can be tough to walk around with a backpack when there are dozens and dozens of people sleeping or sitting on the ground in all directions.

After we got our bearings it really wasn’t that difficult to buy a train ticket. The only available seats were sleeper class, which is the cheapest option for a night train. There are three levels of bunks, and the cars are usually old, grimy, and noisy. There was a variety of snoring going on all night, and we were worried about our bags getting stolen, so we didn’t sleep very much. We called a guest house in Varanasi from the train station in Gorakhpur and made arrangements to be picked up from the station in the morning. Everything went off without a hitch in the end and we walked down to our place by the ghats as the sun was rising, showing us a glimpse of one of the holiest cities in India.