Borderlands Resort

Anna and I had to get up early (again!) to catch our bus up the Bhote Kosi valley for our white-water rafting trip. Unsurprisingly, the bus didn’t leave on time and I was glad for the provisions I’d picked up from the bakery and a large bottle of water to combat some serious dehydration. I felt a little awkward with Anna, knowing my intentions towards her were probably going to cause her some pain. I’d spoken to her the previous evening about her worrying behaviour the day before and she’d been full of apologies and seemed genuinely mortified by her actions. However, I had already made up my mind and, if it hadn’t been for the rafting trip, would already have had ‘the talk’. Of course, I still enjoyed her company and certainly knew that we’d have fun on the river so I saw no reason to spoil the atmosphere.
As it happened, Anna was in no state to pick up any bad vibes from me that morning as she had a particularly unpleasant hangover from the previous night. The bus stopped for fuel outside Banepa and, while I was enjoying the early morning sun and watching the local women hard at work in the fields, Anna was trying hard to empty the contents of her queasy stomach behind a tree. It didn’t work and she spent most of the journey looking slightly green around the gills. At one point, embarrassingly, she had to ask the driver to stop so that she could jump off for an imminent chunder – unfortunately, she couldn’t get anything out and sheepishly climbed back on the bus, much to everyone else’s amusement. Eventually, when we’d stopped for an official toilet break, she managed to do the deed quite spontaneously, failing to make the sanctuary of the toilet…but at least feeling a lot better.

Doing it the old-fashioned way...

Due to the cramped nature of the seats, I was able to sit on my own and, still getting through my own hangover, I plugged into my walkman and virtually switched off. Having seen the scenery on the way to Tibet the previous week, I wasn’t too concerned with staring out of the window and blissfully closed my eyes and chilled out.
We arrived at the ‘put-in’ just below a large dam where we were given the itinerary for the next two days. After a lengthy safety talk and instruction session, we were to take our rafts around 20km downstream, over several gentle rapids and a couple of Class 4s. This would serve as a team-building exercise and allow us to get our rhythm for the following day, when we would be rafting the upper river (above the dam), which would be considerably more technically demanding and would require tight teamwork if we wanted to stay on-board. Interestingly, almost half the party were locals from Kathmandu. There was a group of orthopaedic surgeons in one raft; a mixed group of locals, one English guy and his Columbian girlfriend in the second; and then, the outstanding crew of ‘Bishnu’ (our raft): Two girls from Singapore, Jo and Tiff, two English doctors called Joel and Al, myself and Anna. We also had the privilege of being led by the senior river-guide – an intelligent and likeable chap called Mani.

The indefatigable Mani

We immediately gelled as a team and were responding rapidly to all of Mani’s commands (apart from the ‘everybody in the water’ call, which nobody was falling for). Mani seemed impressed and, while there was no real element of competition, we could see that we were more than a match for the other two crews. With only a little serious white water on this first day, we were able to spend plenty of time gazing at the beautiful scenery as we drifted down the valley. At one point we were amazed to see hundreds and hundreds of honeycombs, dangling precariously from the cliffs above us, apparently producing the sweetest and most expensive (on account of their dangerous inaccessibility) honey in the world. We stopped for lunch on the river bank and we all realised what hard work all that paddling can be. There wasn’t a scrap of food left by the time we’d finished and I could see I’d have to be careful with so many hungry people near ‘my’ food.

Cliff Honey

Eventually, we arrived at the exit point and, unfortunately, had to wait for half an hour as the new bus driver had gone too far downstream to pick us up. Someone hitched a ride down the road to find him and, when he came back, we loaded the rafts onto the roof and jumped aboard for the ride up to the Borderlands Resort.
The site was beautifully laid out on well-manicured lawns, just scant metres from the river and its continual background roar. Most of us were in simple tent accommodation – not a problem on a pleasantly warm night – although the orthopods, obviously on some kind of lads-bender weekend were being put up in the luxury chalets. The toilets were pristine (almost photogenic, in fact) and when it came to dinner-time, I realised the full extent of the charms of this peaceful retreat. The bar and dining area – with open sides allowing a gentle breeze and the sound of the river to float in – was a chilled-out, laid-back affair with cushion-on-floor seating and low tables. Lighting was provided by flickering candles and faint chill-out vibes floated over the non-intrusive sound system. Everyone was able to kick back and relax after the exertions of the day and we were served a very fine hot buffet dinner, which only served to improve our humour. A few beers and plenty of ‘getting-to-know’ chat made for a very pleasant evening. We weren’t late to bed and the susurration of the nearby river soon had us drifting off into deep, refreshing slumber.