The Last Great Experience
The 21 of May 1999 in Kathmandu
Another update so soon? Well, a fair amount has happened. I could start
with the good bits straight away, or bore you all with a couple of weeks
travel news to start with. I think the latter will at least mean that someone
will finish reading some of what I write. So, on another fine clear morning I
left Pokhara, my base for a month and a half, bound for the big city. It was
as uneventful a trip as any I've had here, and although one is travelling in
the Mountain Kingdom, the views are nothing special, especially as the coming
monsoon has already drawn the veil over the hills. Initially I had a few days
to kill in Katmandu while waiting for Daniel, a friend from India. However,
rather than spend them in the polluted tourist ghetto, I decided to spoil
myself with a short little rafting trip on what they say is "Nepals most
exciting river" (you have to love advertising here. If I ever see something
advertising. "An ordinary pleasant experience" I'll do it just for the
novelty.)
So, after a single day in Katmandu, I was off on the early
morning bus of tourists to go floating down a river. We headed up to within
15km of the Chinese (read Tibetan) border, which was possibly the best thing
about the trip. Not that it was bad. But the grade 4 and 5 rapids I was
promised, quickly got reappraised as 3 and 4's once the guides found out I was
from South Africa. For although I haven't done the Zambesi, I at least know of
it, and have paddled a raft before. (and a boat called Jun, when it comes to
that) So once the tourists (who were paying $50 for 2 days, very costly if you
ask me) had pumped up the boats and made lunch, we got a short instruction
course on how to paddle. Much like the air hostess safety talk, once you've
heard this once, there is little more that they can tell you, but my fellow
passengers were a little more eager to get to grips with the knowledge. I
ended up on the boat fill of Scandinavian and Germans, mainly female. Which
had the distinct disadvantage of no power. I was put up front in view of
previous experience and ended up doing most of the paddling. For although the
girls put in their share of work, in perfect unison I might add, when things
got interesting in the rapids, and the guides calls got frantic, they were
mainly addressed at me. And when we got a grade 4 rapid badly wrong, I was
blamed for not paddling hard enough.
Yet, when the going finally got
interesting, we had to walk. The two biggest rapids, messy grade 4's in my
opinion, were considered too big for the tourists, so we had to walk while the
guides took the boats though. This would have been the final straw, if the
overnight stop was not such a disaster. I had debating bringing my tent, but
thought that would be antisocial, so was willing to try the tilted boat lean
to that the guides (read me) set up. Needless to say, when the rain came
everything got soaked, and only the fact I have a dry bag meant I stopped the
down equipment getting drenched.
The rain raised the river a little, so the next days bounce downstream was
mildly more interesting, but not much. I was actually happy to be back in the
big K that evening, feeling a little ripped off by the whole deal, and still
waiting for the first adrenaline rush. Daniel appeared the next day, but his
climbing plans were well outside my budget. We made tentative plans to meet on
the Everest trail, and he departed for Lukla by plane. I went through the
normal trekking visa stuff, and was on a bus to the trailhead in a couple of
days. And here's where the whole thing went for a wobbly. While I was inside
the bus, blaring offspring into my skull ("…the truth about the world is that
crime does pay !!"), some little shit had slit my beloved macpac and helped
himself to my passport, Traveler's cheques, VISA card and trekking cash for a
month.
And so ends most of my plans. I had prepared for this emergency, but the
brutal truth is that anyway you look at it, it's a costly business. Not having
an embassy in the country is no assistance either. Thus far I have got the
Travelers cheques replaced, but the other hassles are only just beginning. So
while I watch cricket and movies, I piece together my life, and try to plan
what to do. Israel, Syria, Jordan and Pakistan all became unreachable, and my
trip will end in India. How soon depends largely on how much the replacement
passport costs, but it could be anything from a couple of weeks to 3 months.
I'll just have to see. But humor me, and send a little mail, as I have very
little to do here but read, watch movies and wait on bureaucracy
28/05/99.....Well a few days later all is progressing well. I have a 4 page
temporary passport, the TC's, a replacement VISA card in the UK and Nepali
Visa in the passport. All that remains after the weekend will be the Indian
Visa, which hopefully should take no more than a week. Whether I'll move on
straight away is undecided. The teatotalling fly is now well know in all the
bars that show cricket, and one chap in particular is a huge fan of the game
and knowledgeable enough for me to have intricate tactical discussions with
him. So maybe I'll hang here for a bit longer. Indian trekking looks set for
the Garwhal Himalaya, the Kumoan Himalaya, and the Zanskar region, all of
which should be a better wilderness experience than Nepal in any case. So some
motivation has returned, and It may be a few months yet before I see African
shores (then hopefully the new home of some prized cricket trophy.)
