It’s 7 AM. Turns out my alarm had been buzzing since 5:30, but I had packed my phone in my bag and was off in a deep sleep, a mountain away.
Poor Anup sir had to search all morning to turn it off. The same happened to the others who got disturbed by the alarm. It’s not exactly something I should be proud of, but it was still funny.
We were dancing all night, and I didn’t even let them catch a wink for a few hours.
Eventually, we all woke up, freshened up, and started sharing photos and videos so it wouldn’t be an issue when we returned home.
Some of the team headed out to enquire about Dolpa’s apples since we all wanted to take a carton each, as discussed back in Renchi. Some even bought flip-flops for the bus journey and enjoyed strolling in Dunai’s streets (without me).
Meanwhile, Anup, Samundra, and I made arrangements at the hotel and asked the ammas to prepare lunch for us quickly as we had to catch the bus by 11. The bus guy had actually called me, saying to be there by 10:30.
We made sure our devices were charged, bags packed, and nothing was left behind in the room.
You might like reading: How to reach Dolpa From Kathmandu and vice versa
Once everyone returned, we had our lunch and waved a final goodbye to the last hotel where we’d been crazy all night. Of course, we apologized to the ammas for last night.
Then, we headed to the best apple store in Dunai. While all the other guys took a carton each, Anup, Samundra, and I decided to share one—we didn’t want to lug this heavy thing to the bus park.
But since we had to help the ladies, we ended up carrying them. I enjoyed this part, too; I carried it exactly like a porter (on my head). The bus park was just 10 minutes away, so it wasn’t a big problem.
Later, I found out that Sahil had smartly hitched a ride in a delivery van a bit earlier—that’s what we should have done!
We all made the final payment to the bus, and it was time to say goodbye to Dolpa. So many memories. No matter how hard we try, this group of nine is never going to be together again.
In fact, some of us may never even see each other ever again. These bonds will slowly fade, but when we look back on this trip, it will bring back all the flashbacks, and we’ll all appreciate the magic of Phoksundo yet again.
The ‘ya lekhera aayeko,’ ‘kharab bani,’ ‘universe sign,’ ‘Munglin ko incident,’ ‘Siri khojdai,’ ‘afnai cha para mero beglai cha ani bani,’ ‘Rukum Maikot wala dance,’ ‘aayi nahi wala dance‘—every single catchphrase and every dance move will be missed.
The bus rolled, and we were ready to go home. Some of us were excited to share our stories with friends and family, some were already thinking about going back to work, some had unfinished tasks, and some had exams to study for, while I, honestly, didn’t want to return just yet.
The joy and peace that this trip gave me was exactly what I’d needed for months. I was genuinely happy—happy after a long time!
I wished a few other friends were there too so they could experience this magical 8-day Phoksundo Lake trip. But maybe if they were here, we wouldn’t have become so close to the strangers who ended up being close friends. A lot of “maybes,” but in the end, this trip was meant to be just for us.
The bus started a bit slow, which made us nervous about the 30-hour ride. But soon, it picked up speed. It was scary seeing pebbles and small rocks falling off in landslide zones, some even hitting the roof of the bus.
Everyone was a bit scared but still laughing, which reminded me of the rock that fell right in front of us the other day.
I’d even brought a flash drive to play music on the bus, so we put it on. It was fun until the bus staff started switching songs to his liking, which was honestly annoying. There was even an uncle who was vibing to the music but eventually stopped due to the staff’s behavior.
Once we left Dolpa, the bus was flying, just like the one we’d come in. Some of us dozed off, some complained about the song-switching, others were hungry, and some just gazed out the window, lost in thought.
Before we knew it, it was night. At dinner time, nobody wanted dal bhat, so we settled for chow mein.
I wanted to drop off with the ladies in Rukumkot to make that viral TikTok, but it was already dark, so we missed it yet again.
Frustrated with the music switching, Samundra and I put in our earbuds and vibed on our own. It was a nice moment, until memories of the past months came flooding back, reminding me of my love for travel.
I shared everything with Samundra, and we promised to keep the travel plans going in the future.
Eventually, Samundra fell asleep while I kept enjoying the songs. I didn’t want to sleep that night—it was the final day of such a long-awaited trip.
I thought back to times when Anup sir and I would look at the skies and wonder, “Kaile jane ho?” Short trips never really did it for us, but this one was exactly what we needed. I’m thankful to everyone who made it worth coming.
As the bus was moving, Didi was uncomfortable, so Samundra and I offered our seats to the ladies, and they probably had a good night’s sleep.
On the other hand, Samundra managed somehow while I had to crouch into an awkward position to catch an eye for few hours.
It’s the middle of the night. Suddenly, I remembered that my earbuds were still in. One had fallen out, and I thought it was lost, but thankfully, the LED on it helped me find it. Phew!
As we dozed off, the bus continued to roll on, stopping at different places for quick breaks. At one stop, a quarrel broke out on the bus.
A lady accused an older man of touching her inappropriately. It was an anxious moment for everyone. The man swore by his daughters that he didn’t do it, while the woman was certain it wasn’t a mistake.
Her partner tried to calm things down, as did the bus staff. We never got to know the truth, but the message remained clear: no matter how much we progress, safety for women remains a concern in Nepal. It’s not their fault but rather that of people with bad intentions.
This Phoksundo trip wasn’t just fun but also reminded us of the various social issues we need to be aware of. It was a journey that exposed us to everything, which probably made us wiser.
Meeting wonderful people from different backgrounds, forming connections, and learning from one another brought out a new version of me. I realized that there are different sides to each of us that emerge in the right situations.
One final sleep, and it’s 5 AM! We wake up in Burtibang, some of us got off the bus, took care of morning routines, and gathered for a final cup of tea. A light breakfast with biscuits, and that was it until lunch around 11.
We had a good talk, though my pimple had grown into a full-blown potato by now. I wanted to cover it with my neck warmer. The dryness and extra dust inside the bus were culprits, and the constant “Where’s the Vaseline?” joke continued.
Confused about my vaseline joke? Read the part 4 of our story here.
Now, “Nindra Devi uthisakkin.” The same bro who’d been switching songs now requested us for our flash drive—turns out he was loving our songs too!
So from 5 in the morning, we blasted Bollywood songs. Finally, my hours of playlist prep before the trip paid off.
We were singing, dancing—after all, we were waving goodbye today! We had to make this day a remarkable one too.
Sahil and Samundra were partly asleep—I kept reminding them about the last day, and we didn’t let each other doze off.
Prashosan joined us in the dances too, while Anup sir had to sleep as he couldn’t the other night in Dunai. Ram and the ladies had their own ‘kharab bani‘ jokes that had already started to irritate the rest of us.
We kept dancing. “Chaiya Chaiya” played, and even the ladies joined in this time. We should have gone up to the roof of the bus to dance, but that was definitely not possible. A bucket list item yet to be checked off.
We continued all the way—the uncles ahead of us even joined in on the Nepali songs later.
We were almost on our way to Pokhara when Nisha stepped up and asked the driver to stop in the middle of nowhere.
The driver was determined to reach Pokhara in no time, but Nisha had other plans. She called me while I was vibing to one of the Bollywood songs. Turns out it’s her favorite coffee spot—Lumle Coffee State. I thought we were taking beans for her, and so did the bus drivers.
Okay. So, we got there, and she ordered an Americano. I ACTUALLY took off my glasses—I knew we were already in trouble. I had a big laugh on my face, yet I still said, “Cappuccino for me.” This was crazy, really, but a very memorable moment.
I kept waving at the driver to wait while the bus staff were all determined to leave us there, obviously annoyed, but it was worth a story for us.
We hurriedly went back to the bus, obviously got some scoldings from the uncles too. Our team was all smiling and laughing at us.
Just after a few minutes, the bus stopped. Turns out they were planning to stop here for lunch. We were still sipping in our coffees. The guys were too hungry and wanted to have lunch.
But in the end, all eight of us settled for momos—the worst ones I’ve probably ever had. And yup, that was our final moment together.
As we stepped into the bus, Nisha, Didi, and Sahil were to drop off in Pokhara. We wanted to capture the final goodbye moments—Samundra helped me do it.
Didi dropped off first. I reminded her about the carton of apples. Followed by Dhakal ji, who was almost shedding a tear. I reminded her not to cry and once again mentioned the apples.
We even got to meet her cute nephew—it was only a quick “hi” and “bye.” Then Sahil dropped off—I reminded him about his apples too. He’s from Birgunj but had instant plans with his other friends in Pokhara.
The rest of us knew we were all going to separate too. It was a moment of silence for all of us. We had a good talk about our time together.
Even shared our story with one of the aunties who got into the bus in Dumre, and of course, she was amazed to hear about our connection. There was a huge jam for about an hour that made us cook inside. The bus, already in a hurry, wasn’t going to stop now.
Imagine Pokhara to Kathmandu without a single stop. We did stop briefly so that Ram could drop off in Munglin. We captured his goodbye too, and I personally promised to call him whenever I’m in Munglin—we had one final good laugh.
He’s now going to catch another bus to reach Sarlahi. And now, it’s just the four of us!
Turns out the bus staff still weren’t aware of our ticket prices. And our boys—Sahil and Prashosan, had forgotten them at the Dunai hotel.
We were all furious at first, but the solution was already there. Thankfully, they’d taken a picture of the tickets. The bus staff probably noticed the Munglin price and weren’t happy about it.
Once we were on the Munglin-Kathmandu highway, the driver literally flew the bus through all the traffic jams, determined to reach home—we were honestly unsure if we’d make it home or if another Trishuli incident was awaiting us. That’s how it is here in Nepal :(.
Once we reached Kathmandu, the lady we discussed earlier dropped off in Thankot—still very angry but didn’t take any of the actions she’d claimed when we reached Kathmandu. I am just worried about the traumas she’ll have to go through in the next phase of her life.
It was time for Prashosan to get off too. Our guy had smartly kept the apples in the driver’s compartment, and I’m pretty sure that made the bus staff even more irritated.
So, they charged him an extra Rs. 500. Probably mixed feelings there, and we just had to let it go, as the staff were all slurring at the buses and trucks along their way.
We didn’t want to make unnecessary quarrels, and I had already made up my mind to talk about this to the booking counter head in Kathmandu.
But it was already night by the time we reached Macchapokhari. Thankfully, they didn’t charge us extra. I still had a talk later on WhatsApp about the 500, which he refused to refund us anyway.
Now, even the three of us had to separate. Samundra got into his own inDrive while Anup sir and I got into ours. I took the apple cartoon for the day and distributed to the boys later.
We reached home safely, and that was the most important thing. My dog was all happy to see me—my parents were also ready to hear my experiences and taste those apples. And the funniest part is my nose looked like a potato—the pimple got me laughing yet again.
The trip was over, but even days later, the hangover of the trip still lingered. Every moment was precious to me and, hopefully, to everyone who made it to Phoksundo.
From meeting the ladies and our soon-to-be-doctor friends to returning with them together, every moment was special.
Nisha‘s prayers, Samundra‘s untranslatable words, Anup‘s solo adventure ahead of us, Sandesh‘s joining us while completely solo, Sahil‘s chill attitude, Prashosan‘s final day dance, Ram‘s Munglin incident, and Didi‘s thumkas—every single moment has been on my mind.
And now, this story has come to an end.
I had never imagined or planned to do this, but the story was worth writing. Maybe when I’m in my 70s, lying in my bed, I’ll open this up, and my memories will take me back to Phoksundo.
Let’s hope for the best, and I pray all my new friends get the life they want. I couldn’t make a wish during the shooting star event—but this is exactly what I’ll be wishing for.
Adiós! Jay Phoksundo!
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