Nepal's Darker Side

Burning tyre at the first road block
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The wide rushing Trisuli river sparkles in the sunlight, casually linked by a fragile swinging bridge every few kilometres. Nepali women dressed in brilliant colour cross often, against a lush mountainous backdrop of green beyond description. Nothing less than incredible.

What a rich reward for the earlier down-beat events of the day.

I became possessed with the urge to get the camera out and capture the views.

Without really leaving Bhaktapur, our bus was already pulling up in Kathmandu for us to transfer to the Pokhara-bound bus. Pokhara is the gate-way to the spectacular Annapurna Range, and about 200 kilometres west from Kathmandu. Given the busy mountainous road, vehicles generally do not travel faster than 40kph anywhere in Nepal so the drive can take up to six-or-so hours. That's on a good run.

School children are allowed to pass at the first road block
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As a traveller in Nepal, I understood little of Maoists and their cause. Prior to my visit, I was only interested to hear that Maoists permitted tourists to Nepal for the economy. Therefore, until we found ourselves stuck at the end of a very long Nepali traffic jam, I believed they would be trouble-free, of little concern to me and my holiday.

A barricade of burning tyres had been set up across the road and was blocking traffic from both sides, around four kilometres away. No one was allowed though except excited young school children, who sadly did not understand the situation for which their country is so notorious.

The second road block
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After more than an hour the bus engine suddenly revved to life, disturbing the quiet activities of those waiting around us, and we were away. But it wasn't more than half an hour until we arrived at a halt at the second road block. My feelings of impatience, disappointment and anger were being mixed together - blender style. As I watched the UN and the Nepali army pass to attempt to disband the Maoists, I began to feel deflated and upset at the situation of the country, which I had begun to love so.

The fun begins...
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The second block had been held for over 2 hours when our leader returned and announced a negotiation with the Maoists had been decided upon, in which we would walk through the protest with our belongings and be picked up by tractor on the other side. It was a 45 minute walk to the other side, and with 12kg on your back on a 32 degree day, that didn't sound much like a wonder solution...

But to my relief, the moment we were ready to go, once again the friendly bus engine roared into life and we were off, finally arriving at the rafting departure point, five hours over schedule.

Dil is a hyperactive Nepali with muscles growing out of his ears. He enjoys "singing" and "dancing" on the raft, and celebrates every rapid with a mighty all-oars-in 'Shaka-Laka BOOM!', (Shaka-Laka Boom is actually a Nepali brand of 2 minute noodles). Dil is also going to be our guide for the next two days.

It's daft to bring a camera with you while white water rafting for obvious reasons, but the experience was so natural and awesome that I became possessed with the urge to get the camera out and capture the views. At the beginning. After a few 3+ grade rapids and almost falling in the drink, I thought better of that idea.

Arriving at the beach tented camp at dusk, I noticed an overhead swinging bridge, which I was delighted to learn that in the next couple of days, I would be crossing over it until my heart was content.