By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
Someone is following me? Wait, that can't be right? I'm a solo female traveler in Nepal, and I'm possibly being followed. I can hear the countless verbal warnings echoing in my head from colleagues, friends and strangers reminding me that women shouldn't travel on their own. It's not safe. You’re any easy target. You need a male companion. Just wait to go with a friend. I sigh with annoyance reflecting on these endless and often unsolicited comments and return to my current state of uneasiness at the prospect that someone may be following me. I tilt my head to the side to see two shadows standing behind a Persian silk tree. I hear a soft, inaudible whisper, but the two bodies remain in place. I continue to walk down the dirt path towards the city center, glancing behind me every few minutes. Maybe they’re not following me? Maybe they’re engaging in a casual conversation, and I happen to be close by? I slowly look back again, and I can still see the pairs of brown legs standing behind the tree. I increase my speed until I reach the top of a hill. I direct my attention to the scenery of the small town in Gandaki, Pradesh, a province in Nepal. I abandon my immediate anxieties to behold the expansive landscape – the red and yellow flowers hanging along the Persian silk trees to the lush green grass spread across the countryside. In the distance, a Buddhist temple of brick and stone with brass and iron ornaments is perched on top of a hill, exuding serenity and calm. A faint breeze tickles my cheeks while the sun disappears behind towering mountain peaks. Suddenly, I hear a loud giggle behind a nearby bush, prompting me to keep moving down the dirt path towards the lakeside city. Five minutes pass. Ten minutes pass, and I still hear footsteps behind me. If I had any doubts before, they no longer existed. I am definitely being followed. I look down and notice the bright pink shoelaces on my floral Adidas shoes are jumbled in a knot. In a frenzy, I bend down to tie it. Suddenly, a petite girl with a black blouse and red trousers brushes past my shoulder and yanks my hair. Ouch! Someone pulled my sandy brown, wool-like knotted dread lock. I squeal in dismay at her forceful tug. Why did she grab my hair? It quickly registers that these two girls have been my unexpected traveling companions. A wave of relief envelopes me while I giggle. I certainly did not think it was young girls who were following me this entire time, captivated by my unusual hair. The young girl who boldly pulled my hair rejoins her friend behind the tree who appears to be slightly younger, wearing a pink and blue striped dress and polka dot sunglasses. I slowly move towards the girls and start pointing to my cascading dreadlocks. With my limited Nepali, I lack the vocabulary to string along a sentence to engage the girls. Tilting my head to the right, I gesture to the girls to grab my hair. They stare. I stare with a half grin on my face. The girl who pulled my hair takes one step closer. A second step. Third. And touches my hair. And laughs. Reluctantly, her friend approaches and touches my hair too. And stares. And laughs. I respond with a chuckle. A few seconds pass while the girls caress my hair in bewilderment. And then they skip away, only glancing back once before entering a nearby clothing shop. The moment is over, and I sigh again. As if responding to my colleagues and friends, I exclaim to the air – see, I told you that women can travel on their own and possibly encounter unexpected yet delightful companions along the way.