Early on Saturday morning we got up, picked up our hired porter, had our last breakfast in the city, and took a taxi to the village named Naya Pul. After a beautiful ride of about an hour the car stopped, and I couldn't really get it that from now we were going to rely on our feet only for an unknown period of 8-10 days. Our porter, Puran, was a good one, speaking ok English. We later discovered that he was a licensed guide, the president of the guides union in Pokhara, and even arranged group tours sometimes, and we were
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