OzBus 14

I sensed a smattering of sadness as we departed from Pokhara.  For many, including myself, it had been a very welcome break from all the hectic travel, what seemed like countless cities and was as close to a holiday as we’d experienced since the beginning of the journey.  Nonetheless, we were all in the state of mind necessary for what lay ahead and were up early for our trip to Nepal’s capital – Kathmandu.

The drive from Pohkara – an area situated close to two thousand metres above sea level – to Kathmandu – an area situated over one thousand metres above sea level – was a refreshing insight into Nepal’s beautifully ridged landscape.  With a backdrop of clear blue skies and a sensually warm sun, it was just as awe inspiring as you could ever imagine a mountain drive.  The ecstasy of the drive was going to be topped off by an activity – white water rafting.  This was exciting for me for three reasons; firstly I’d never been white water rafting.  Secondly, the scenery in which we were going to be participating in was nothing short of perfect.  Finally, I had never plucked up the courage to do it before as I can’t swim, thus adding the potential of death on top of an already adrenaline fueled activity.  I realise now I absolutely and whole-heartedly love these situations.

One normally likes to savour such excitement, giving the event a heightened sense of exhilaration.  In our case, our driver didn’t actually know the location of the company that was going to be taking us out on the water.  This lead to an impromptu two hour drive back and forth a stretch of river that we were meant to be rafting down, stopping and asking at every sight of a living soul.  Add on top of this the fact that no one knew the name of the company, and you have a recipe for frustration.  We eventually get to where we need to be, upset, annoyed but still eager.  There were a group of people already waiting for us, adding to the sense of urgency to get out on the water.  After scurrying around putting away valuables (cameras, passports, etc.) we have a quick safety meeting by the river and head out in our rafts.  We spent three hours, with a break in between for lunch, tackling the river.  I fell in once as I wasn’t prepared for the wave we hit, much to the amusement of my fellow raft personnel, but luckily for me the life-jacket provided dealt with the situation with maturity and grace (unlike me).  At calmer points of the river, our guide and instructor gave everyone a chance to jump into the juice before the next rapid, giving everyone, including myself, a taste of what it’s like to be a piece of floating debris.  All in all, we eventually forgot about the debacle of getting there and had a great time.

Back on the bus, we started to make our way to Kathmandu.  On the way, we hit a jam caused by a crash – a car had hit some thing in the small town and decided to run off so a truck went in pursuit but in doing so had crashed into a bus.  We were stuck there for a while and didn’t know what had happened till our guide had got out and asked the locals for details.  It was a far cry from the tranquil surrounding of Pokhara and the river we just came from.  This delay, plus the late arrival at the white water rafting, meant we got into Kathmandu a lot later than scheduled.  Once we did arrive, after what had been a very long and eventful day, we took solace in our haunt.  The buzz of Kathmandu and it’s bustling city life was not apparent by the time we arrived, but that is the story of another day.  Tomorrow, bungee jumping!