<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161144/636d1d159c7e80680e0af392jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1080"/>I nternational tourist arrivals increased by 58% in July-September, compared to the same period of 2020. This is still 64% below average 2019 levels and 76% below pre-pandemic levels, according to the UN World Tourism Organisation. The figure will stay at 70-75% below average 2019 levels for the remainder of 2021. Mobility restrictions, vaccinations, and traveler confidence have meant improvement in parts of Europe and the Americas during the third quarter of 2021, but arrivals in Asia-Pacific were down almost 95%. The tourism sector could lose $2 trillion this year, the same as in 2020.

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Tourism picks up

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141136/636cfe5a9c7e80680e0a0c34jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="784" height="286"/><figcaption>The famous view at Gokyo Ri draws tourists from around the world. It was abandoned in May 2021.</figcaption></figure>On the morning of 20 May this year, we dragged ourselves up to Gokyo Ri, the famous viewpoint in the Khumbu. Four of the world’s six highest mountains sliced the crystal-clear air in a spellbinding scene that had inspired us to visit Nepal.The only problem was that we were alone. In normal times, a May morning with perfect weather would have meant throngs of trekkers on the trails. The solitude was lucky for us, but a telltale sign of the grave risk that Nepal’s tourism-dependent regions now face.My girlfriend Mallika, our guide Kedar, and I were among the last trekkers in the Khumbu in Spring 2021. For 16 days, we had the trails, hotels, and even whole villages to ourselves. We spoke with many locals whose livelihoods rely on trekking, including guides, hotel owners, cooks, and shopkeepers.They painted a complex picture of great personal resilience, seriously depleted finances, and increasing worry about the impacts of Covid-19.The Nepal government should make clear policy decisions to support the Khumbu and other regions that focus on tourism. Policies can succeed by balancing income generation with Covid-19 risk. Speed is key: the trekking season begins in mid-September, and foreign tourists need to book their travel plans soon.The problem is that there have been three missed seasons of trekking income, with a fourth looming. Trekking drives Nepal’s tourism economy, especially in the Khumbu. It provides two distinct seasons of cash flow annually: March-May, and September-November. The lack of substantial off-season tourism makes each season a crucial financial opportunity.The COVID-19 pandemic has now blocked this opportunity for three straight seasons. The impacts were serious for everyone we met this year in Nepal’s tourism sector. Trekking guides normally work 10 treks per year, but many have not worked since 2019. We were Kedar’s first clients since February 2020. One French-speaking guide in Kathmandu, who usually gets reliable business from French trekkers, is now running a small grocery. Porters and lower-paid support staff were even worse off, with many leaving Kathmandu to avoid rents.Business owners are facing the risk of massive debts. They had envisioned recouping 2020’s losses in the Spring of 2021, but had no real chance to do so. The owner of a new hotel told us he had raced to finish construction for the season, but had few guests.Since he had to finance porters, mules and helicopters to bring the construction materials into roadless Khumbu, he was now far behind financially. In Lukla, a shopkeeper said she had moved from Kathmandu in late 2020 with her family to open her business. She had invested in having all her goods ready by March, but almost no one showed up to buy them.Despite these challenges, we saw the deep resilience of Khumbu locals. In the high mountains, people had shifted their focus from tourists to yaks. We managed lodging in shut-down villages with people who stayed to care for their animals. In the lower valleys, age-old agricultural rhythms were kicking into gear again.Mixed feelings about tourism during the pandemic were also evident. While we were vaccinated and wore masks around others, most people were wary of foreigners spreading Cvodi-19. The owner of our Namche hotel even gave us a bag of masks to hand out along the trail.It was clear overall that a lack of trekkers next season would be a big problem, further pushing an already stressed economy.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141136/636cfe5c9c7e80680e0a0c35jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="700" height="500"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>A proposed solution can be to open trekking in September, but require vaccine proof. The Nepal government can support the mountain tourist regions, while also protecting their health and honouring their fortitude by implementing a balanced policy that allows trekking for fully vaccinated tourists.September is the right time to open up. The low trekking season during the monsoon was a natural  buffer for the Covid-19 situation to improve both in Nepal and abroad. Now, with the lockdown having stabilised the case load somewhat, the improving conditions can also enable economic recovery.In the meantime, potential trekkers have been getting vaccinated. In 2019 trekkers mainly came to Nepal from the UK, USA, China, Australia, Germany, France, India, and several other European countries. Global Covid-19 vaccination data shows that European countries and the United States have vaccinated a large proportion of their populations. India and Australia lag behind, but have active vaccination drives.Clear communication from the government would be essential for this to work. Foreigners need to know the exact rules about vaccine proof, tests and quarantines before they decide to travel, and locals need to know that trekkers will not be allowed to come in and spread disease.Implementing vaccine proof travel may be easier than we might think. Vaccine passports may be difficult to require for Nepal tourist visas, as previously discussed in Nepali Times. Countries have been slow to roll out formal passports, and barring entry to Nepal for all unvaccinated people could exclude individuals with medical conditions from necessary visits.Enforcing vaccine proof when granting trekking permits would be much simpler. Vaccine cards already issued by every country, rather than formal vaccine passports, would be good enough for this purpose. The requirement would not exclude anyone from necessary travel since trekking is purely a pleasure activity.Furthermore, Nepal’s trekking regions already require special permits and there are many checkpoints along the way to verify them. The policy could be as simple as requiring the vaccine proof when giving the trekking permit. The Government would not need to invest in new infrastructure.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141136/636cfe5e9c7e80680e0a0c36jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="810" height="379"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Nor would a vaccine passport requirement stop trekkers from coming to Nepal. Trekkers tend to be wealthy, health-conscious people with both the means and the motivation to get vaccinated. Ultimately, Nepal’s mountainous landscapes and outstanding people are an irresistible draw for foreigners. They will surely come, and will not endanger the people of Nepal, if the government lets them.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141136/636cfe609c7e80680e0a0c37jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="512" height="384"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Michael Henry is a Canadian who has worked in the social sector in Zambia, Senegal, Nigeria, and India, and has written about trekking, mountains, and livelihoods for Red Bull, India Development Review, Mountain Life Media, and others.

Livelihoods matter, restart trekking in Nepal

<figure><img width="640" height="479" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd27b9c7e80680e08f911jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Niranjan Koirala's demeanour was more professorial than political.</figcaption></figure>It was a glowing autumn afternoon in Bhaktapur with the sun warming the terracotta roof tiles and moulded brick facades. Keanu Reeves had just finished shooting the kabaddi sequence in the temple square, liberally enhanced with fibre glass sculptures and carved wood trellises to transform it into Prince Siddhartha’s contemporary Kapilvastu palace. The crowd of extras lining the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/little-buddha-comes-to-town-filming,957" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Little Buddha set</a> stirred with excitement as the prime minister arrived in an official bustle of shiny black cars and watchful bodyguards, greeted by the movie’s Italian director Bernardo Bertolucci in a stylish panama hat. No one noticed Niranjan amongst his entourage, characteristically keeping in the background but without whom this film would never have been possible.Niranjan Koirala was the self-effacing adviser to the tourism ministry who enabled us to pull off this major international movie that not only showcased <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-tourism-now-has-to-re-start-from-zero/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s heritage, architecture and scenery</a> to a global audience, but employed hundreds of locals and added millions of dollars representing ten percent to that years’ total tourism revenue. Niranjan had recognised its potential value for Nepal, arranged our film permit, and urged his newly elected uncle Girija Prasad Koirala, leader of the first democratic government of the recent era, to give us his full personal support.It was 1992 and there were no less than 13 Oscar awards amongst Bertolucci’s multi-national film crew, many fresh from success with the first movie shot on location in China, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0093389/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Last Emperor</a>. Thanks to Niranjan, we were granted direct access to the prime minister’s office over the eight months that the production team worked in dozens of locations throughout Kathmandu Valley and Chitwan. If we encountered any hitches with the filming of Little Lama (as it was code named prior to release), they were swiftly resolved at the highest level. <figure><img width="792" height="520" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd27f9c7e80680e08f912jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Although a fully-fledged member of the Biratnagar-based Koirala dynasty, direct descendent of the great BP and uncle of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/manisha-koiralas-new-life/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">matchless Manisha</a>, ‘Niruda’ as he was known in the family wore his politics lightly and preferred a life in the shadows savouring the freedom to travel and study.  Having witnessed the upheavals of the royal takeover in 1961, he studied political science in Banaras Hindu University and the University of California Berkeley, then worked in tourism before retreating to academia in the United States. I met Niranjan only after he was wrenched back to Nepal public life as political adviser to the Minister of Tourism and Civil Aviation, Ram Hari Joshi. He was an unlikely figure amongst the dusty desks, smeared windows and civil service culture, more professorial than political, gentle but determined, smiling but steely, preferring tweed jackets and colourful sweaters, a neat moustache and thick hair curling carelessly over his collar. The perfect person for the role, Niranjan’s well-travelled vision and drive for Nepal’s tourism economy was refreshingly tempered by his impatience with bureaucracy and innate political realism. “Never underestimate the complexity of running a poor mountainous country with precious few natural resources,” he counselled me. At home in Boudnath he kept a pet monkey in a tree house, and his hospitality featured produce from the garden, and much talk of travel, films and books. Despite inevitable opposition, it was during Niranjan’s tenure that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-himalayan-odyssey/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s modern tourism</a> policy was forged. The industry was liberalised by carefully opening up forbidden areas such as Upper Mustang and Dolpa to benefit local livelihoods, instituting mountain and trekking trail clean ups to beautify the Himalaya, world promotion by permitting ambitious international movie shoots such as Little Buddha, Eric Valli’s Himalaya, and Enigma’s Eyes of Truth, and allowing private commercial airlines to flourish within Nepal that ended the national flag-carrier RNAC’s monopoly and revolutionised domestic travel. I can envisage Niranjan humbly shaking his head in vehement disagreement with my words, but Nepal could not have achieved what it has without his wisdom and behind-the-scenes interventions. With his advocacy for aviation reform and safety, it was especially ironic and tragic that his first wife Santosh was killed in the Thai Airways disaster that year, leaving their two small sons returned from California and dazed with grief. <figure><img width="1500" height="1088" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd2819c7e80680e08f913jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Niranjan attempted another stint in public life as Member Secretary of the King Mahendra Trust, now <a href="https://ntnc.org.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">National Trust for Nature Conservation</a>, before taking his own advice to effect political change from the sidelines, repairing to Delhi where he could indulge his appreciation of art, music, religion, history, travel and good food. Despite losing his second wife Ila Dalmia to cancer in 2003, Niranjan’s infectious spirit and enthusiastic appreciation of civilisation endured. Until the end, his cheerful and unflinching Facebook postings from his expansive verandah and unruly garden in central Delhi were testament to his concern for a better world, relief for the oppressed, for liberal democracy and responsible leadership. Little Buddha remained something of which he was “particularly proud”. Niranjan passed away in Delhi 13 days ago aged only 73, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/losing-a-colleague-to-covid-19/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">another unexpected victim of the coronavirus</a>. As his sons Himanshu and Bhaskar so beautifully wrote, he has “departed for his next journey”.

tourism-economy

Tourism picks up

Livelihoods matter, restart trekking in Nepal

Niranjan Koirala, 73