The deep deep gorges we floated down were stunning and the rapids were just big enough to be really exciting and soak everyone to the skin every few minutes, without completely freaking us out. And it just went on and on, three days of drifting through a sunny paradise interspersed with constant rushes of adrenalin made for a wonderful trip. Of course, as always, there were dramas.
The first evening we pulled into a sandy riverside beach and threw up a few tents. The first people we talked to on the trip were another "mixed" couple - the guy, Richie, from Towoomba, Australia and the girl, Teia, from British Columbia, Canada. Of course we had a good laugh comparing our situation, and we'd actually been on the Annapurna trek at the same time. I told them I'd noticed them in the same guesthouse as us one night. They then proceeded to tell us that while they were at that place Teia had taken a pill to get rid of her dodgy tummy, but had a sudden and extreme allergic reaction to it. So extreme in fact that her throat swelled up so much that she couldn't breathe, and then her heart stopped. Twice. Luckily there was a doctor across the road and he pumped her full of shots of hard-core antihistimines, adrenaline and a few other assorted things that brought her back from the brink. So only a few days later they decided to come on the rafting trip to try to relax and get over it.
Unfortunately poor Richie wasn't doing too well when we set up camp. He was hit by an awful tummy bug and was puking and heavily fevered so off he went to lie down in his tent while Sarah and I chatted to Teia along with Catherine and Todd, a couple from Sydney. Suddenly Teia started freaking out a little as she felt her hands and feet tingling and her blood pressure getting lower - the exact same symptoms that preceded her near-fatal anaphalactic shock last week. We all figured she was having a panic attack (as you would one week after being on death's door) so I cracked a few jokes to try to take her mind off things, but it swiftly became apparent that wasn't going to work. Teia is a nurse herself, and so is Cat, so they monitored her symptoms while Richie staggered over to offer support.
At this point we found out - oh dear, even though the shots of antihistimine and adrenaline which saved her life last week only cost a few cents to buy, they hadn't bothered to actually pick any up before going on a three day rafting trip so far from civilisation! We were all getting a little nervous at this point. I went round to all the other rafters trying to find anyone happening to carry ampoules of antihistimine or adrenaline in their first aid kit - to no avail. Thankfully the guy I'd sat next to on the bus that day (John) owns a white water kayaking tour company in Ireland and was here in Nepal running a tour with a few clients. John came over and took control and sent three people to the nearest village with a phone and an army base, which was an hour away, running up a steep hill. Although when Todd told the Nepalese rafting boys he was with to hurry it up a little because it was a medical emergency they replied, "No running. If army sees us running, they will shoot us."
Meanwhile waiting for them to return either with medication or news of a chopper airlift out of there, John and Cat monitored Teia and constantly took her pulse and checked her circulation and blood pressure. Meanwhile her boyfriend was dashing off every few minutes to puke or get the runs, poor bugger.
Also meanwhile, a bulldoggish Birmingham woman came up and aggressively stood over Teia and confronted her, basically accusing her of faking, which naturally was making her quite upset. Then she started into "I once read about where Shirley McClaine was stuck on a mountain and was freezing and then she used the power of her mind to..." This was enough for me! I sprung into action and did the only helpful thing I was able to do all evening by grabbing the British Bulldog and dragging her away mid-sentence to explain to her that her interesting theories about Shirley weren't really helping the situation.
At this point we thought Teia was a good chance to die and basically were shitting ourselves. After an hour or so we realised that it was probably a mild allergic reaction combined with an (understandable) panic attack. They hiked out the next morning, although we ran into them two days later in Pokhara. They'd been back to the hospital as an emergency twice. You'd think it might be time to use the old repatriation clause in the travel insurance right? Maybe that's just me.
Oh the other best thing about the rafting was the big group of huge, overweight, hairy Hungarian fellas who insisted on wearing the tightest and smallest speedos in history. And nothing else. ALL the time. I'm serious, even when we'd roll out of the tent bleary-eyed at first light still wrapped up in a sleeping bag against the morning chill... we'd be greeted by half a dozen budgie-smugglers straining at the seams and partially obsured by pasty-white hairy gut overhang. In fact the Brummie totally redeemed herself on the last day where, just before getting on the bus she did a theatrical double-take at the biggest of the Hungarians who had finally put some shorts over his speedos for the only time that whole trip. She grabbed a handful of the shorts, gave it a tug and said - "You have shorts! Shorts are GOOD!" before nodding emphatically and waddling away, leaving the guy totally bemused and me with tears in my eyes.
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