25th April - 1st May 2011
It turned out that Eddie was heading to Pokhara too so at the end of our long sweaty ride we skirted the touts for taxis and hotels and followed him to Lakeside where the bulk of hotels were. As we walked up and down small streets leading off the main drag, it started to rain, ahhh the joys of hotel searching! We found a place, Pokhara Peace Home, and got a cheap room with three beds and not much else. After dumping our stuff and using the bathroom we went out for dinner and found some places offering paragliding depending on weather conditions and rafting trips.
The next day we made the most of the not-so-clear skies and decided to walk the long way round to the World Peace Pagoda. It took ages just to get to the beginning of the route mentioned in the LP, we walked to the end of the Phewa Tal and around, guessing as to how we should actually get there. In the end we found the beginning and we made our way, slowly up through some beautiful Sal forests.
I say we made our way slowly, Kate ran most of the way up and to wait for us old bastards to catch up – Djalma pushed me most of the way, I wasn't feeling the greatest and was coming down with a stinking cold. In between climbing trees and scrambling up what looked like goat paths, we came to a cross roads of sorts and took the wrong route, after grumping and grumbling that they didn't know where we were going and that I wasn't going to follow them in their Tarzan/monkey antics we followed MY suggested route (yes, a very smug face here) and got back on track.
Just before the final path to the summit of the hill where the Pagoda was situated we stopped to enjoy the view out over the Lake and over Pokhara while drinking fizzy pop, that was me, and beer, the two Tarzans.
After our refreshment we made the final push and got to the gleaming white Pagoda. After all our effort it was actually a little disappointing, I was expecting a singing, dancing welcome after hours of walking. It was a simple building with golden Buddhas set into recesses. After taking pictures and sitting down in the blinding shade – the white was overpowering and the day had turned out to be very sunny, we decided to take a shorter route back down and into town, I was feeling pretty awful and didn't want to trek back the long way.
We took the shortest route back into town, this happened to also be the steepest and involved relying on very shaky legs to descend the massive and uneven stone/concrete steps. After a while Djalma and I decided to follow Kate's shining example of health and bounded down the steps after her, using gravity to help us get down. With a huge amount of luck we all managed to get down without hurting ourselves or tripping over unstable stones.
We continued along the road until we reached Devi falls, I can't remember why Kate wanted to see this, it would have been much more of an attraction after the monsoon. Anyway we stopped just outside the entrance to have a couple of samosas and some fizzy pop to refuel depleted energy supplies, before making our way slowly through the small market leading up to the entrance, stopping for Kate to have a look at the cheap tat and for us to mess about in silly hats (which I think we both secretly wanted to buy – I know I wanted mine).
We paid up to go and have a look at the subterranean shrine and the waterfall further down, the shrine wasn't much and we weren't allowed to take photos, we all have a good bang on the bells though – hopefully calling down a blessing or two instead of pissing the gods off. As we climbed further down into the warm damp air we came to an opening at the end of some particularly rickety stairs, we breathed in the muggy air and then tried to take pictures of the unspectacular waterfall which was just visible through a big crack in the wall.
I'm not sure about Katie and Djalma's efforts but my photos were rubbish, we gave up and climbed back up to fresh air and the light of day.
Having had enough we got the bus back to Lakeside and confirmed our places for paragliding the following morning.
The next morning dawned and it was beautiful, about as clear as we were going to get in muggy conditions, we were picked up mid morning and taken to the shop where we booked our places and left our bags and were taken up in a large minibus with the guys who would take us out. The atmosphere was good, we were told what to expect and what to do by a handsome Frenchman and one of the local “air guides” allocated us our instructor or pilot. I was more nervous than excited, the opposite of Kate and Djalma who couldn't wait to get strapped into their harnesses and into the air. We were dropped off and walked up to the launching point where the pilots and their helpers laid out the gliders. Meanwhile we got into our harnesses which turned into rather comfortable air chairs, but made you look like you had a massive bum.
Without much preamble my pilot attached himself to me, re-explained what I had to do; run as strongly and as fast as possible and as soon as we were up lean back into my chair. Easy enough, actually it was too easy, I had some help running off the side of the hill – a guy grabbed the front of my harness and pulled my towards him, basically doing the running for me! I managed about two steps and then we were up my legs going uselessly in the air (it took me a comically long time to stop). The feeling was INCREDIBLE.
My pilot, a local whose name I cannot remember now, focussed on getting us further up in the air and wheeled us higher and higher climbing and whirling on the thermals which everyone else was one. The air was full of us, Kate and Djalma weren't far behind but unlike me with my baggy trousers streaming out behind me, they weren't easy to spot. When I did manage to see them I shouted and waved trying to communicate my excitement through roaring wind, clever. I couldn't stop laughing, the feeling was just so... mind-blowing, my pilot kept on checking to see if I was okay and laughed when I laughed, I was having so much fun and the harness chair was so comfortable although I did have to remind myself that the white knuckle clenching wasn't necessary – I was safely strapped in.
Djalma took Kate's GoPro up with him, strapped to a long pole borrowed from the shop, while Kate and I got the pilot to take up their GoPros and take our photos. After a good half an hour my pilot took me further up and we went out and over the ridge leading away behind a big TV mast, I was a bit nervous that we were leaving Kate and Djalma behind but it turned out that one of the gliders below us was Katie. We lost a fair bit of height and got quite close to the ground, I got to hold the camera and make videos and take pictures, it was brilliant, despite being told that he couldn't do it because he was in trouble (I told myself this was just a bad translation into English and that we were perfectly safe).
We gained height swinging round to catch the rising air, the wind pushed against us with so much force that it got really cold, after what felt like a really long time we got enough height to move again and slowly moved towards to landing area. I saw someone swinging round from side to side and asked him about it, he said it was air acrobatics and would I like to try it, after such an amazing time (and no vomiting) I said YES! And so we swung crazily from side to side, I resolved not to scream but I couldn't stop, it was that or being sick. It was crazy fun, but we had to stop some time. I didn't manage to put my feet down quickly enough and so landed softly but in a heap while my darling husband stood over me filming, laughing and refusing to help me up. My pilot very unceremoniously gave me hand by grabbing my harness and dragging me up – not so pleasant on the armpits. It turned out that Katie and Djalma hadn't enjoyed it quite so much as me, I was fizzing over like freshly shaken champagne while they both looked a bit green – Djalma had stopped early and waited for us to finish the rest of our session with his feet firmly on the ground and although Kate had finished around the same time as me she said that although she had enjoyed it she felt like being sick while hanging in the air.
We sat and had a coke, a free one! While I gassed on about how amazing it was Kate recovered but couldn't finish her cola – too gassy. We bundled back into the minibus and were dropped off at the shop where we waited for our photos and videos to be copied onto a memory card. After lunch we went back to our hotel and spent the afternoon chilling out, my cold made a spectacular return after the adrenaline had worn off but it didn't stop us from going out and having cocktails in a bar overlooking Lake Phewa. We had an excellent evening sampling the cocktail menu, making the most of a buy one get one free offer.
We had our rafting trip planned for the following day, we were condensing a three day trip into two, down the Kaligandaki River. After a small breakfast we got on a minibus with the guide and safety canoeists to the starting point. Arriving at the launching point, they sorted us out a lunch, plenty of Mayo on the salad, mmm yum! And after a safety talk, some basic instructions and some stilted introductions (our guide didn't know anyone's names and didn't bother asking for ours – there were only four of us including another Sarah not exactly difficult) we set off down the river.
The first set of rapids called 'Little Brother' were fun but our guide was shouting at us not to be afraid and afterwards told us that if we were scared now we were done for because the next were even bigger. My immediate impression was that he was an utter douche bag and completely unsuited to work with the public, telling people who weren't scared not to be scared and going on about it didn't do any good, wasn't helpful in the slightest and if we had been scared, would not have reassured us a jot. After a mini spat with Djalma, he said that we should probably not talk and we set off in a considerably grimmer mood than before. At this point I was thinking what a waste of time and money this was, I didn't really look forward to the rafting but going down the rapids was good fun, the only downside was the unpleasant guide we had to listen to and follow instructions from. After some apologies a kind of truce won out and then, even better, he swapped with a much nicer and not so vocal guide who led us through the next couple of hours. The atmosphere was much better when they changed back and we paddled on down the river, getting thoroughly soaked, drying out and getting soaked again. After five hours we were all cold and hoping to avoid more splashes and stay warm and dry, we found a nice flat beach and pulled up. The guys put on some tea and two massive bowls of popcorn which we tucked into hungrily. I wanted to take some pictures but every time I told myself that this was the last handful of popcorn, it would magically reappear from the bowl, full.
We got changed into dry clothes – after wet pants, dry knickers were a blessing from God on my sore red cheeks – and sat down to an excellent meal, chicken curry, rice and dal bhat (a kind of lentil soup). Djalma went off with the annoying guide to get beers and so we all sat round with cold beers and warm food enjoying the evening. We crawled into our tents and slept like babies, waking up early the next morning to find some local children hanging round.
After breakfast and washing and packing up, not to mention al fresco morning motions, we said good-bye to the kids and set off. We had covered so much ground the previous day that we had hardly any paddling to do and almost no rapids, we had covered all the good stuff in the first day. We strapped the GoPro to the Irish canoeist and he filmed us coming through what little white water action there was left, he also filmed us climbing up and then then jumping off some high rocks. I wasn't going to do it, but watching my little sister scramble up and then launch herself off convinced me it was possible, so I climbed up almost psyched myself out of it and then stepped off, plunging into the water gave me a stubborn wedgie but it was fun. Getting back into the boat wasn't that much fun, I was hauled in and managed to really wrench my left wrist, it hurt so much I actually cried a bit (difficult to believe I know). One man down – I couldn't use the paddle after that, we decided to tie the boat to a ferry point which was a little further down the river. We sat and waited for the boat to fill up and leave, during that time kids came in and out of the boat and all the other excursion rafts decided to follow our lead and soon there was a line of seven rafts and countless Israelis linked to the ferry.
We chugged down the remainder of the river and before long we arrived at the drop off point, while the other lugged everything up from the boat I stood around feeling like a useless spare part. We had lunch and then got on the bus for a five hour ride back to Pokhara.
Back in Pokhara we arranged to meet the other Sarah, who was lovely, for dinner that evening, checked back into our cheap hotel and then showered and chilled out. We had pasta for dinner, I wasn't feeling up to much the previous two days had taken it our of me and my cold was full strength, including delightful headaches (I know what a whiner right!). Kate had a dizzy sick spell after dinner so we decided to forego any partying and head back to get some proper rest and some sleep in a bed.
We spent the following day doing absolutely nothing, at one point Kate and I ventured onto the main drag to have a little look at shops and to buy bus tickets back to Kathmandu but other than that we just spent the day sitting and reading.
We left first thing in the morning and walked to the train station getting a breakfast of rubbish pastries along the way. The ride took several hours but we broke at another expensive restaurant and shared a buffet meal, eventually arriving in Kathmandu early afternoon.
