New Zealand - a general outdoor paradise.

The 4x4 van of terror loaded up and ready to roll... anywhere!

I like spending money and so far in New Zealand I have acheived this with flying colours. Not only have I bought a van and a kayak, but also a mountain bike. I think that maybe I should extend my stay and working options a little further...

Anyway, within one day of being in the country I hooked up with the local bike shop here in Queenstown and headed off on a biking mission. A really nice blend of steep downhill single-track greeted me in Skipper's Canyon, followed be an hours slog back up the mountain road. I was certainly not flying back uphill - 2 months either sat in a boat in the water, sat in a harness in the air, or sat on my backside drinking tea has ensured the wasting of my legs! Anyway, it was brilliant getting back in the saddle again.

My first river in New Zealand has been the Nevis river nearby to Queenstown. A fantastic and out-the-way run that requires a drive over some stunning hills remeniscent of the Dartmoor tors (except sunny and surrounded by snow capped mountains). I hooked up with Doctor Robin and Ben Hawthorne (previously of Desperate Measures) and it took us 9 hours to complete the run. It wasn't without drama, as at one point myself and Robin waited round a corner for Ben to appear after running an inconsequential corner he had got out to scout. Just as we were getting out to walk back up, Ben appeared on the riverbank, without boat. It took us an hour and a half of exciting rope-work and muscle wrenching to get the boat from out under the boulders and river Ben had managed to sink it under. I was just pleased Ben wasn't still in the boat. Still a glorious run, with a great big water finish running the Citroen rapid on the Kawarau river at over 300 Cumecs (cubic meters of water per second).

Since my inaugeration to Kiwi paddling I've managed to tick off the Waikia and two day Perth off my big list. Both incredible rivers with their own merits. The Waikia for it's first rapid, a 20 foot tunnel formed by a boulder off a 15-20 waterfall, which you cannot inspect. The Perth for being a 2 day helicoptor drop run (provisions being dropped at the hut roughly halfway down) with it's own dreamlike 15ft boof in the centre of the flow.

Colin so fast he's a blur on this staunch rapid on the Waikia

Colin actually pulled this off on the Perth. Nice one Col!

A pic of me doing the Perth boof.

Unfortunately the Perth also proved a little much for my unstable shoulders - pinned on a rock above a nastly choked grade 5 section, after getting a beating on the section above, I shifted to grab a line thrown to me and... washed upside-down off the pin to run the entire following section on my head, one hand on paddle. In trying to get hold of my paddle, whilst being thumped off rock, I subluxed my right shoulder (a partial dislocation) and bruised the ligaments. Luckily I could still paddle the half day out, but it was sore and I've not pushed the kayaking since - giving the shoulder a chance to stabalise again. Everybody else had a storming day, Danny, Colin, Si and Sean all hitting their lines and styling it down the river.

A spot of bouldering near Queenstown

Since then I've been enjoying the myriad of activities that New Zealand has to offer. Within spitting distance of Queenstown, where I have set up residence with Ben, Si and Sean, there's a whole host of outdoor classics. From climbing to frisbe golf, I'm hitting it all as hard as I can. I currently sport hands with all kinds of ridiculous holes and blisters on them - raw fingertips from bouldering on the sharp schist to a strange blisters on the sides of my fingers from frisbe golf. Nights out with the guys from Queenstown rafting is adding to the difficulty in training for the cross country marathon I have, for some unknown reason, entered. The Mototapu Icebreaker marathon runs through Shania Twain's estate out here and is supposedly the 'most beautiful marathon in the world.' I just hope I can appreciate this as I drag my sorry arse through it. We shall see - if you're not too busy on the 14th March, spare a thought for my little legs.

A 20 km practice run up the Routeburn Valley

I'm pretty sure that I should get my updates a little more detailed - but I'm currently spread so thin on many activities that nothing significant sticks out, it's all great! Hopefully I'll get some proper missions underway soon, otherwise I'll try and keep everyone updated with my general activities.

Sirkot expedition

My last major trip in Nepal was to Paraglide from Sirkot. I had a brief respite from the air to paddle the normal section of the Marsyandhi in lower water. It was good to note that although the damn has now been closed... there is still enough water to do the lower section! There has only really been one rapid lost.

Sirkot was cool, although I managed to turn up late to leave (I usually wake at 6am - not this time), there were lots of my new friends from Blue Sky Paragliding there. Kayla and Johnny from NZ being two of them. Guillaume also managed to get his wing in time and came along. There was a whole other mix of folk too.

The journey up was, well for want of a better description, bone-shaking. Although we had around 3 hours on the road (remember these are Nepali roads....) we then had to endure another 3 hours on a 4x4 trail. All this crammed into the back of a delapidated jeep, army style. I had the added pleasure of a huge gas cylinder between my legs. I have to admit that looking at the random grimaces of pain from those that hadn't visited back country Nepal before did put a smile on my face. Evil I know, but I've kinda got used to being battered around the place.

Once at Sirkot (a large cone shaped hill at around 2000m) we were greeted by a thousand curious kids and tremendous views. As we set up camp, some folk took a late afternoon flight and I helped get water and wood with our Nepali guides/ my friends Bhoudhi and Babu. On the way back I bumped into my instructor, Patrick, the owner of Blue Sky, David Arufat (ex Acrobatic world champion) and a couple of the other clients. They were off caving and I decided to join them, even though the only torch I had was a little LED at the base of my lighter. The caves were fantastic, we squeezed through holes and crawled through passages underground for over 2 hours. At one point we found ourselves in a cavern where bats roosted (not sure if that's the right word). They were only little bats, but we could get our noses to within centimetres of them and some were huddled in groups of 5 or more. Very cool. David had explored these caves before and is certain that if he can find a way down to the lower levels there will be a huge cavern. I believe him, they seem to go on forever.

Eventually we emerged, blinking and covered in muck, into the evening light. We headed back up to camp for dinner in the dark. I was reminded that crazy paragliders also make mental 4x4 drivers. Dinner was the usual genius combination of wonderful soup followed up by enormous amounts of Daal Bhat and wild pig. A bunch of Babu's special warmed rum punch lubricated and heated our evening by the fire. Mad stories were delivered by Setou, who turned out to be a film comedian of Nepali fame. His transformations of character were quite incredible and occasionally eerie by the fire-light.

The next morning delivered the sun-rise of champions. Once again a low level valley cloud underpinned the scene, as the sunlight slowly made it's way up through it's many hues and painted the himalayas. Quite breathtaking.

I snapped as many pictures as I could and then sat down to absorb the day breaking and let it envelope me as the others stirred. A large and late breakfast then set us up ready for the flight.

We had a briefing of our flight plan from David and then waited for the conditions to become right. The thermals rising up off the hillsides ready to lift us into the air were an indication it was time to go... Although my flight was fun, I didn't manage to get over into the next valleys. Some of the experienced pilots managed to make it all the way back to Pokhara. I landed in a large field and was soon joined by the other new starts. I then spent the next couple of hours on the radio trying to track down the other pilots that hadn't made it as far as Pokhara, picking them up in the van with our Nepali driver. Eventually we collected all those that hadn't made it and headed back to Pokhara ourselves. I opted for a large evening meal of steak with Johnny, Kayla, Guillaume and Patrick. I'm fairly sure there was probably some beer involved too....

Coming to the end of Nepal

It's pretty sad thinking that I'm going to be leaving Nepal soon. It would be sadder if I wasn't heading onto New Zealand, but this country holds a fair amount of history for me now, and friends too. I still have some updates to do, for my final couple of trips, but I might not get a chance to do this until NZ. I leave you with a pic and a poem that is typical of Nepal's mosty beautiful landscape...

The kings may rise from the sun
In gleaming fortresses,
But their little brothers deepen;
Veiled ghosts in the distance
Solidifying into existence.
These foot-soldiers march behind each other,
Out of step,
With crystal clouds lapping against them.
Legions of watercolours
Layering themselves
Into the days unfurling scene.

I love to get air.

Looking cool(?)

That's me!

This last week or so has been pretty incredible. Patrick and Janic, our trusted instructors have taken us on leaps and bounds. It hasn't been entirely smooth; at one point I had to wait for 15 mins to take off, since Milan (who took off before me) had managed to land/crash into a tree on the side of the mountain. Luckily he was ok, and off I went, a little bit more nervous than before! I was particularly surprised when Milan landed after me - straight back into the saddle for that Slovakian.

The team

After about 17 flights in total, from the first flight, to the fantastic feeling of catching my first proper thermal (spiralling up into the air), I agreed to go on a small expedition. The plan was to drive to the hot-springs on the Seti Khola (Tatopani) in the morning and then walk up to Korchon that day. Once there we would bivvy out for the night and then fly the next day. Korchon sits at 3250m. We started the climb at around 1000m. Only 2000m to climb then! Of course I agreed that it would make sense for a porter to carry my wing, whilst I carried myself and, errrm, my sleeping bag. And some water. And my camera. I was well loaded.

Sweating on the way up the ridge

The walk was fantastic, fairly strenuous and steep, and interspersed with food. When we arrived at the top the clouds had formed a "sea" around 2000m so that we could only see the ridge we had walked up and, of course, the Himilayas above. As the sun dropped, we were witnesses to one of the most beautiful sunsets I have seen. Matapuchre and the surrounding mountains changing their colours and softening in the dipping light. The temperature also plummeted with the sun, leaving me wishing for my down jacket I've put in storage in Kathmandu. In fact it dropped to -6 celcius. One campfire quickly turned into 4 campfires as people struggled to stave off the cold as we waited for dinner. Popcorn and tea kept us going, soup and pasta heating me up ready for bed. Bed, by the way, consisted of wrapping me and my sleeping-bag inside my wing. Nice. I only actually woke a couple of times: Once when condensation was dripping on my face, so I opened up the wing, and second when it stated to snow a bit.

My watch tells me I'm high

Nice camping spot

Doing what I do best

The ridge we came up

Spectacular sunset

Simple sleeping arrangements, trying to avoid the morning pee

Morning shafts of sunlight

Luckily breakfast was plentiful and arrived quickly and steadily - it never seemed to end. We waited for the weather to settle a little and to see what was going on. We had winds up high and not many thermals, but at least the blanket of clouds had gone. They can obviously make navigation a bit of an issue! We had a simple flight plan: Head down the valley towards Pokhara and then find a safe place to land. It was gorgeous. I took off after Patrick, and soon there was over a 1000m under my feet. The views were spectacular, although because of the lack of thermals and the wind ceiling being quite low the flight itself was pretty simple. Searching for a landing was new to me, but since the rice had recently been harvested, landing spots were plentiful. I was the first to land, with Patrick soon after and in the same place. We waited a while to find out by radio where the others landed (a few km away) then hopped on some local busses to get home. Total flight time was around 45mins and I don't think I'll ever forget it.

Take-off spot

Patrick showing me the launch

My smelly feet spoil the view

Matapuchre by sunset

From water to air...

I've always thought that there was something missing from my life. You see, in all the sports that I've grown to love, I get to play with the elements. I love climbing, this is clearly earth/rock. I love kayaking, this is clearly water. I enjoy my fire staff and fire breathing, this is (you've probably guessed it, or I worry about you) fire. I enjoy mountain biking, this is earth, air... and ouch... so maybe not really air/wind. I get some air in the sports I've done, but never enough. So whilst out here in the Himalyas I have decided to get more air. I'm learning to Paraglide.

So far it's been a pretty amazing experience, and it looks set to improve. I'm learning with a company called Blue Sky Paragliding based in the foothills of the Annapurna, in Pokhara. They were set up by a Swiss guy called David, and are mostly French and Swiss instructors. My particular instructor is called Patrick, and I'm pleased to say he has got me into the air, from A to B, and back down to ground again in one piece. In fact he's managed to get me to do this 4 times. It's been great, and I've not once been in the air tandem. He's got me and the other 4 guys on the course flying straight off by ourselves.

This first course that I have done starts 0n the ground, thank-god or whatever. You learn the safety features of your harness (like a big rucksack with leg straps), your lines, and your wing. You learn the basic theory of flight and design behind your wing, and you learn a little bit of Aerology (local wind differences). Then you head off to gentle slopes, with predictable thermal winds, where you practise launching, controlling and running with your wing. For us we spent 3 days doing this groundwork and on the final day we received the wings and harnesses we'd actually be flying with. Then on the 4th day it's up the mountain....

Our instructor, Patrick, show's us how it's done.

Milan tries to copy him

This is where it all happens. You can't learn to take-off without taking off, you can't learn to fly without flying, and you can't really learn to land without first being in the air. With a radio attached, you get instructions from an instructor at take-off and an instructor at the landing site. Which is nice, since you're about to run out into nothing! You clip yourself into the left lines and the right lines, which attach you to the wing, take the brake lines in your hands, lift them and the rest of lines above your shoulders, wait for a thermal to bring wind accross your face; then launch. The wing rises behind you, and as it reaches above you, you take control of it using the brakes and start to run, and then the ground buggers off. You're flying. F***ing flying. Once you're heading the right way, you sit back into your harness (which turns into a comfy seat) and try and enjoy the ride, as the radio crackles information in your ear. It's not as smooth as you think it's going to be. Thermals buffet you, swinging you like a pendulum under the wing, lifting you and dropping you. You follow the instructions bringing you towards the landing site as planned, you do figure of eights upwind of the landing site to lose some of the 600ft of air you've had sitting under your bum. Suddenly the ground gets near as you swing around for approach, heading downwind, making a turn until you head back upwind to land. You twitch at the controls trying to come in nice and straight, then stand up into the leg staps as the ground approaches. As the rocks and grass blur below you, just feet away, you push your hand and brakes all the way down. You gently stall and still, and you feet touch the ground, the wing falling behind you. Unless you're me, you come in cross-wind, don't brake enough and that blurring ground becomes a spray of dirt, grass and tangled human. I got it right the next few times!

Take-off.....

FLYING!!!

Everyone in my group was exstatic to have flown. The Swiss guy Sandro, with his shaggy blonde hair and straggly beard, the two Slovenians, Michal and Milan, Budhi, one of the Nepalis working at Blue Sky - even the Belgian, Guilaume, was smiling and laughing. We had put the biggest part behind us, now we could really start. We've all agreed to do the first couple of courses and get to grips with flying and how to use thermals to take you higher up into the air. Who could turn it down? It's amazing what you can do with a paraglider; the distances you can travel, the heights you can acheive, even the acrobatics you can perform (I was watching a glider the other day doing front somersaults... hmmm...).

So pay for Nepalese children to pack my wing... what?!

All in all, you can probably guess that I'm enjoying the flying. It doesn't compete with kayaking, it's a whole different ball game entirely, it's just as good, but it's a whole different element entirely.

P.S. Colin and the boys are off out West doing the Thuli Beri and the Humla Karnali. I hope everything is going well, although the last I heard from them was a phone call asking me to post the massive tarpauline they'd bought in Pokhara, and subsequently forgotten. I was told in the post offices it wouldn't get to them for 2-3 weeks. Pretty pointless then. Now I have a massive tarpaulin in my room.

P.P.S. I'm also spending lots more time with different people. Thank-you Sunni at Guru Lotus restaurant for making me fat and going on the town (despite his Dad being the local Hindhu Guru). Earthquake (his names means this in Nepali, and it's too long to remember) for again trying to make me fat. And thanks to everyone I've met that has to put up with me banging on about flying - the Brazilians at Guru's, the Americans in Once Upon a Time etc. Thanks also to Ashley and Anita, from all over Europe, for teaching me flying jargon, and for entertaining me with multi-coloured beards (not Anita). Sorry guys, this is all for the benefit of my memory in case I lose my diary.

The Upper Upper Madi Khola and the Upper Marsyandi.

A pretty tree to start the tale

I've managed to start writing this straight off the back of the last installment, I should probably go and get myself some masala tea (I'm addicted again) and roti, but here I am. It's probably becasue the interenet connection has actually remained good and seems to be uploading my photos quickly and not crashing!

So the date had reached the 24th Oct and we had been back in Pokhara for a day. Munched food by the lake in the Pumperknickle and probably had a few beers. We also chatted to Babu (crazy Nepali who used to work in Charlie's kayak shop) and formulated the next plan. I also signed myself up for the paragliding course I wanted to do - 10 days training and I can fly by myself anywhere in the world... don't look up!

The new plan was to get a taxi to Lamarquet, hire porters, head up to the top of the Madi Khola, Sickles powerhouse, paddle the entire section (60km or so) to Darmali, catch a bus to Dumre from the roadside, catch another bus from Dumre to Besisahar, get a jeep to Bhule Bhuli and then walk to Ngadi to paddle the Upper Marsyandi. Easy. We got ourselves some permits for the walk on the Madi Khola (super last-minute, our taxi driver ran in and pushed to the front of the queue to grab the forms and information we needed, needless to say he got a big tip) and away we went on the 25th Oct.

We left kinda early and got to Lamarquet in pretty good time and started searching for 6 porters willing to lug our kayaks up the 'hill'. After an hur or so we had them all and started our ascent. One of the porters was a 13 year old with wild eyes and massive hands. Apparently his father had died recently and he was now the main bread bringer for his family, he was adament he could manage a boat, and we were more than happy to give him the work.

The views back down the valley on the walk up to Sickles (first image from Sean).

The walk was long and tiring and wound it's way up over 2000m, that day we climbed 1000m pretty much straight up stone steps. The views were however absolutely stunning and we managed to reach a guest house in Sickles as the sun set. Daal Baat for dinner and we all crashed out pretty early. Sleep did not come easily that night as dogs barked all night and from about 5am the porters started making a hell of a racket. Although we had agreed breakfast for 8am and away by 9am they wanted to leave earlier. We reluctantly dragged our lazy arses out of bed around 7 am and then waited for our breakfast. It didn't appear till after 9am. All pretty typical.

It took another 2/3hrs to drop back down to the river and so we didn't put on till around midday. The river itself was super clear and cold, and fairly fell downhill. It was also full of badly placed rocks! I actually seemed to hit form on this river and really started to enjoy myself in my new boat weaving around all the roacks and puching the holes. I even ran a drop that nobody else did, a tight line through boulders and sieves. Everything was going really well until we ran a stickier drop, most of us had run it and it was just Colin and Sean to go. Unfortunately things didn't go so well for Colin. A rock at the base of the drop forced him sideways and he got stuck in the towback. We thought he should be able to work hiself free, but after a while with his head underwater and not much progress, I jumped out of my boat and onto the banks with a throw-bag. Very shortly after he pulled his deck and popped up, and I threw him a throw bag. Although he pulled me off my feet, it swung him into the eddy and as his boat drifted past I grabbed that too, Emrys helping to drag it out of the river. Danny and Si took off after his blades and Emrys and I had to deal with an angry Colin. Luckily, Danny managed to catch Colin's paddles and we were soon back on the way.

Time moved pretty quickly and we soon found a village to stay in which we had been through on the walk up, called Souda. They cleared out a room for us (6 in one room - 4 on the floor, 2 on beds) and made us some fish daal baat. Whilst we were having a few drinks and some smokes after the meal a local teacher came in to chat with us. He told us about the local youth group and explained that they would like to put on a bit of a show for us. I agreed and after an hour or so, and a few more beers, we headed to the tiny village square. Massive speakers appeared, a tape deck and benches were brought out for us. Villagers seemed to appear out of the stone-work. A mad, young Nepali guy welcomed us through the booming speakers in some of the funniest, broken English we have heard. He referred to us as "Belly and his friends, from England and Scotland". He would then introduce dances and dancers, "Welcome, please, Miss .... and Mr ...., who dance this very nicely dance.... AND.... clapping lots please as they dance this Souda dance". It was certainly an experience as loud music from a tape blared into the night as young Nepalese teens danced for us. We couldn't wait to get up there too, and soon enough we pulled up in front of the village to fully embaress ourselves dancing with the local girls. It was great. I ended up donating 2000NRs to the youth group, and even received a letter of thanks/ receipt from the village. I also developed a gum abcess that evening in the back of my jaw. I guess that's the pleasure:pain balance in action, although I thought had generated some good karma fro the donation.

The next day we were slow getting going, Danny had a dodgy belly. We eventually got on the river to run the regular Upper section. Within a couple of minutes, my belly gave out and I had to find an eddy to ruin.. the first I picked had a snake chilling in it, so I had to make the next eddy my toilet. It was a beautiful day with lots of read and run grade 4, and we only got out to snack. Around 3pm we reached Karputar, where I had stayed last year, and we decided to chill here for the night, rather than paddle the 30km of easy water to Darmali. I had forgotten what an idyllic spot the guest house there was, and as we sat on the roof surrounded by rice and wheat fields eating some noodles, we all agreed it was our best stop yet. The daal baat they served later that night concreted our opinion.

The view from our guest house in the morning.

The next day we stealed ourselves for lot of flatish water and a long paddle. It turned out to be quite a pleasurable float with beautiful views and gorgeous little beaches where we'd stop every hour or so for snacks and smokes. By 3pm we reached Darmali. There were lots of kids there who played with our boats and even managed to make us a bit angry, as they tipped a couple of our boats and soaked some of our gear. Back up at the road it took us an hour or so to stop a bus that would take us to Dumre. The next few hours was spent jumping buses until we reached Besisahar on the Marsyandi, I was pre-occupied with the pain in my gum, which was spreading into my jaw, throat and ear. We found a hotel and I found a pharmacy and I stocked up on Ibruprofen and mouthwash.

(A pleasurable float)

The following day we scored a miserable jeep to take us up the road to Bhule Bhuli, which took about an hour, and whiched we managed to sneak past the trekking check point where we would've needed another set of 2000NR passes. From here we ended up having to walk for about 2.5hrs in the midday heat to the put in a Ngadi. Our first lot of walking carrying all our own kit and our boats. It was pretty hard going, but we all made it and were really raring to get on the cool river.

Sean with the only carrying harness tromping up to Ngadi.

Danny on a typical Nepali bridge next to the put in for the Marsyandi (image from Sean).

The Upper Marsyandi is indeed one of the most fun runs I've ever done and lived up to all expectations. This was despite managing to start the river by missing the last eddy above the first grade 5 and running it blind by myself. Apparently I was heard to matter of factly state, "Oh sh*t, I'm dead" as I increased my paddling rate and fired over the drop between a couple of boulders. It turned out fine and I didn't ever get my head wet. I grinned as Colin and Sean followed me down, I was going to enjoy this. Si didn't have so much fun, listening to a description by Danny he clearly hadn't understood and blasted over the mddle of the drop, straight into a rock. We held our breath for a second, as we feared he'd get pinned, then he reappeared, with a big dent in the front of his boat. Other than that he was fine, although he did have a word or two with Danny about about the line....

Me in the 2nd grade 5... Photo by Sean

The next big rapid flowed shortly afterwards and tuned out to be enormous fun. A couple of huge offset holes, with a massive diagonal cushion wave exploding off a boulder between them. Most of us ran this right to left, using the diagonal to throw us between/ over the holes. Danny chose a line down the left boofing/ punching the first hole to hit the chute past the second hole. This was gorgeous, steep, big white-water. Now happy in my boat I relished working our way down this run, eddy hopping and boat scouting (not getting out of the boats) great grade 4/4+ rapids. Dinnae fiddle, down the middle! When we weren't skirting the edges of huge holes, we were throwing ourselves into their smaller brothers for play sessions and entertainment. By the time we reached the dam which separates the top section from the rest we were grinning and shattered. We climbed up out of the river on a path and walked along the raod to find a guest house, but none of them would open for us!! This must be a first in Nepal!!

In the end a ridiculously friendly bus driver, with a huge bus, persuaded us to head down the road to Dumre, and we decided to sack the bottom section in. We had already paddled the best bits. On the journey the bus driver called a friend at a guest house down the road from Dumre, I think it was called Bandipur, booked us cheap rooms and some food. Diwali festival was on so it was lucky to get this, and the place turned out to be nice and quiet and a much better place to pick up busses from. I didn't notice a huge amount as my gum had turned into a world of pain, of which my only escape was Ibruprofen and Codeine. A massive breakfast of banana pancakes cooked by a festively drunk and hugely fat chef got us to flag down a bus and comandeer it to take us to Lakeside, Pokhara and home. This was good news for me, as I had resorted to using one of Sean's syringes to take various diffenernt mouthwashes and inject them underneath my gum to irrigate the abcess. I needed antibiotics. Once we hit pokhara I got them. And here I am, writing this a couple of days later with just a dull throb in the back of my mouth, waiting for my paragliding course to start on the 5th, the guys planning their trips to the Thuli Beri and Humla Karnali.

Ok, let's think back to the Kalighandaki

So, I've managed to sit down in the internet round the corner from where we're staying in Pokhara instead of munching my breakfast. I guess I better consult my notes and rack my memory for what has happened since I last made an entry.

After we had got back fro the Modi Khola we had a bit of a relaxing day (monday 20th Oct) and came up with the idea to go run the Madi Khola and Marsyandhi rivers. We sent Danny and Si off to go and sort out the details and a couple of hours later an entirely new plan emerged - we were going to head off up the Kalighandaki and the Myagdi Khola. Sweet. The plan was to go high on the Kalighandaki, something I've wanted to do for a while. A jeep was booked at 7am the next day for 8000NRs to take us up the new road that would get us to the hot spings at Tatopani.

The following morning we loaded up the jeep and squashed ourselves inside. I plugged into my iPod for the 3-4hr ride taking in the bizarre mix of Underworld and Van Halen. Don't ask. When we eventually reached Beni we weren't allowed to go any further in the jeep we had hired. Beni is not a great place and we decided it was a s**t-hole. They made us re-load our boats onto a small local bus that would take us up the road.

The "road" turned out to be one of the worst I've come accross in Nepal, which is saying something. At some points it would climb a 1:6 incline though muddy ruts on a road only a foot or two wider than the bus and a 500ft drop beside it snaking on it's bald tires all the way. We were well and truely tenderized by the 2hrs in the hot and dusty bus and were super happy when we arrived at the hot springs of Tatopani. Of course we made full use of the natural resources. Again we were dealt great views of the Annapurnas and I got a clasic 'kid in kayak' camera shot, keeping the inquisitive locals happy.



The Upper Upper Kalighandaki is a great run and definitely put the fear in me a bit. The water was a muddy brown and it charged downstream over huge boulders that formed the major rapids. Needless to say, much of the run has blurred into memory, but it was a classic river. I did a little more walking than I would've liked, but I still fired up a few great lines. I distinctly remember one rapid where the whole flow slammed into a central rock: The left side slammed into a sharp looking, undercut rock and the right side had a sizeable hole to negotiate with. It was so satifying to hit the huge flying boof over that hole and into the eddy. The paddle out downstream was underneath a huge mountain of a rock overhanging the river, creating a kind of tunnel (see pic, courtesy of Mr Sean). There were many other big rapids and Colin fired them up in good style. Sean did the hardest parts of one of the rapids and then found a hole downstream, a few of us 'ooooed' and 'ahhhhed' at the multiple ends and loops he got in the Everest (big boat) and after a minute or so he washed out. Emrys and I had an interesting portage we took on the road as the others did it riverside. Trying to get back down to the river was hard work and involved ropes and spiders. I also had a moment towards the end when I was getting really tired. Heading straight towards a rock that was splitting the main flow I failed to avoid it, capsizing and disappearing from view the others thought I was pinned. Luckily, I had anchored my outstretched arms in the main flow, and although underwater pulled myself around the boulder. It was definitley time to get off the river! (Any pics of me are by Sean, cheers buddy!)



We took out above the S**t-hole and found a brilliant guest hole, Paradise Hotel, which fulfilled all our needs. We got a big dinner of Daal Baat and got chatting to the other guests - a couple of guys biking round the Annapurnas and a Canadian lady who was trekking.


The next day was a bit of a disappointment. When we reached the S**t-hole and made our way to the bridge and road up to the Myagdi Khola, we found out that the road did not go all the way up to the upper section we wanted to run. Not having the funds or energy available, we continued down the Upper Kalighandaki. This time our luck was in, and we bumped into a raft trip which was just putting on. We found out their bus was heading back to Pokhara and so tied on our boats and headed back to town for some R&R.

This has taken me a while, let's see if I have the energy to put up the next installment and get back up to date...

Still going... update soon...

Hey hey!

Well we've just arrived back from yet another mission - this time doing the Upper Upper Madi Khola (a day and a half trek up from the normal put in) and the Upper Marsyandhi (from Ngadi down). Both fantastic trips and full of stories... from random parties put on for us in villages, to the first swim of the trip...

"Who was it?!" You ask....

Find out in the next couple of instalments. Here's a pic to wet your hunger from the walk in to the Madi Khola:

By the way Colin's here too....

I realised that I forgot to mention that Colin arrived before Emrys and Si... he's here and loving it. Enjoying all the food and cheapness that Nepal brings. Of course after spending most of our summer together working on the marquees, our chat is pretty special, and it's certainly lucky there's others here to aid conversation.

Anyway, we've now been in Pokhara for a few days, and it's all I remember it to be. Easy to sort things out, cheaper and cleaner than Kathmandu. We're staying in a place called Hotel City Annapurna for around 100 NRs per head per night, and the owners son has taken to hanging out with us, when we're not on the river. It turns out he's related to the owner of the guest house up the road where I stayed last year, New Future Way, as is the way out here.

The day after we arrived in Pokhara (Thursday the 16th... I think), we had a good warm up run down the Upper Seti. It was nice to do it in the light, since the previous evening we almost sucked ourselves into a plan to do it by moonlight. This plan was obviously subject to the wares sold in the bar we were in. The river was fun, but not exactly challenging, what was more amusing was the young punks at the take-out who charged our taxi driver for the privilage of parking in their playground/ patch of scrub.

That night we hatched plans to do the Upper Modi Khola, we booked a coach with Charlie at Ganesh kayak shop and porters for the walk. We needed the coach as we hooked back up with Sonia and Monica, but also a group of 3 British guys, including Tim Burne. That meant a total of 10 of us heading up... The coach ended up costing us 270 NRs per head (!) and we got porters at 500NRs per day each. We drove to Lumli and couple of hours away and began the days trek.

The trek up the Modi Khola is pretty ace, with views of Mataputchre and Annapurna South popping up around corners and plenty of interesting kids and folk on the trail (see pics below). As usual we got lots of funny looks for hauling kayaks around. We made an hour or so shy of the put in at New Bridge and stayed the night in a tea house next to Old Bridge. My knees gave me healthy gip most of the way... I must be getting old.



The next day we made good time to the put in, leaving Sonia and one of the Brits to meet us at the Bridge, and hideous syphon (where lots of the river headed underneath rocks) at Old Bridge. We were a bit slow getting going, Si managed to drop one of his bags off the edge of the trail, down a small cliff into dense undergrowth. It took him a while and the help of a couple of Nepalis passing by to eventually retrieve it.

The river was a good as I remember it, if a bit lower than last year. I chose to be photographer for the day, which meant I portaged a few drops to get pics and because my camera and lens act like a suicide block in my lap! All in all the river was ace and although we had planned to carry on down the lower section, we ended up getting out at a dam and jumping on a local bus top back to Pokhara. This saved us a 3km walk in the midday heat with kayaks on our shoulders. I felt it was the right move and we got back into town mid afternoon on the Sunday 19th.




I write this on Friday 24th October after we got back from running the Upper Upper Kalighandaki from Tatopani hot springs yesterday.. but that's another story...