Rafting in Nepal

When I landed in Nepal, the trip in from Delhi had been obscured by cloud. I was frustrated because I had gone out of my way to get the left window seat so I could see the mountains on my way in.

Two minutes before touchdown, we broke through the clouds and the entire plane gasped appreciatively as one voice. I wish I'd had my camera out for that first image: a fantastically complex terrace of rice paddies descending fifty or sixty levels down to the floor of the Kathmandu valley, beginning just a few hundred feet beneath the plane. This photo is a tenth of the magnificence we experienced live:

Nepal is green like nothing I've seen, save only Ireland.

I've already written about the wonderful creature comforts of Kathmandu (and more specifically Thamel), but I came across this photo I forgot to share with you. On my first morning in the city, I breakfasted at a magnificent bakery, in their lush sixth story garden overlooking much of the Kathmandu valley and its surrounding hills. It was an exceptionally clear and beautiful morning. One of the only bad things about Kathmandu is the smog; it's not LA-magnitude awful but you do notice it, particularly at moments like this. Still, I wasn't complaining.

I spent a good portion of this past week in the water, kayaking on lake Phewal in Pokhara (photos of that coming soon) and rafting down the Tisuli river:

It's been raining hard here this past week; everyone agrees that this monsoon is unusually strong and long-lasting, thus the extremely high Tisuli pictured above. The day of rafting was tremendous fun. The rain ended just as we were getting into the water, affording us magnificent views of the green valley walls rising steeply from the riverbank, occasionally ornamented with little wisps of cloud like you see here. The black and grey rock was so vertical in places that no trees grew there, but even then spidery ferns graced the sheer surface to keep the verdant carpet unbroken.

The Tisuli has a few major bridges, but most of the local folk make their way across by means of these little suspension footbridges visible in the two photos below:















At the end of the rafting, we got out on the opposite side of the river and got to walk across one of these. It was at least eight stories above the rapids, and the metal grating underneath gave an awesome illusion of being suspended in mid air. (Amy, I thought about you as I crossed this, laughing to myself. For the first time and probably only time I was grateful you weren't here). Above right you see Phillip and Felix, a fine pair of German lads I rafted with for the day. I suppose the mirror of this picture is posted on some website ending in .de. Oh, and here's the obligatory tourist photo of me next to the raft right before we get in (and the camera gets secreted away in the "dry barrel". Yes, I'm that excited about rafting.

So despite having been incountry for a week I have a surprising paucity of good pictures to share, mostly due to the lingering monsoon. By the second week of September the weather should by all rights be dry and clear! I'm still waiting. Oh well, I'm not in any hurry as I anticipate staying here through the month. The accommodations are cheap, there's tons to do and I'm having a blast. Due to the rain, most of my activities have been either water-related or indoors.

In particular, I've spent a good deal of time reading, which has been wonderful. In general you read a lot when you travel out here, as you tend to spend a lot of time either on buses or waiting for transport, or otherwise killing time. Since I left the states, I've discovered Agatha Christie. There's a reason why she's the most published author in the world. I read an actual Horatio Alger novel (which wasn't really good, but endlessly fascinating), essays by Arundhuti Roy, a Murakami novel which while not his best work was still awesome, LeGuin, Terry Pratchet for fun, and a fantastic Oliver Sacks book that Monica gave me- very unlike his other works, and highly recommended. I find that I read the Economist more than ever, (having to hold my nose when they proselytize) just because I normally get my news analysis fix from left wing radio, and unlike those programs, the magazine is available everywhere. To give the devil their due, they did turn on Bush (and specifically his Iraq policies, admitting their errors) earlier than any other right wing publication, and it is superbly written.

September the 4th was a big holiday in the Barry family, and alas, I was far from my kin. But I needed to celebrate just the same. So I found the only Irish pub in Kathmandu, Paddy Foley's, ordered a Guinness (the "small" cans... sigh... but what do you want this far from Dublin?) and asked the publican, Krishna, to take a photo of me raising it high. When I told him the reason he insisted I do so from behind the bar, which I found touching.

Happy 50th, Bud. I love you.