Travel blog: White-water rafting and bungee in Nepal

Nick Claxton has never ventured outside of Europe before but a combination of too many years in London, a lack of proper responsibilities and an unhealthy admiration for Michael Palin now means he is spending a year travelling the globe. A terminally-disorganised 24-year-old taking on the world - solo. Here is his tenth blog entry:

The atmosphere of Kathmandu is what will stay with me most, I think. I'd love to say that I'm referring to the city's vibrant maelstrom of human activity - but unfortunately, many of my abiding memories are of the smog.

It hits you almost as soon as you pass the 'Welcome to Kathmandu' sign. The four-hour bus ride from Pokhara (500 rupees) had been enjoyable - snaking through the lush Kathmandu Valley - until we ground to a stand-still as we entered the city, choking in the traffic jam fumes for over an hour.

These queues greeted me every time I left or entered the city but the metallic taste to the air was present even in the centre. Kathmandu rates among the most polluted cities in the world. This is not due to too many cars (despite the jams on the outskirts) but rather the tainted petrol being sold - regularly mixed with kerosene by crooked salesman to make more profit.

I put the blame on these guys for making me fall ill for the first time on my travels - a few days were spent coughing and spluttering in my Thamel hotel room (£5 a night at the Hotel Prime).

Naturally, this coloured my first impressions of Kathmandu. Compared to the clean air and blue lakes of Pokhara, it was grimy and completely over-commercialised - especially around Thamel.

To get away from the city, I booked a white-water rafting trip on the Bhote Kosi river, which boasts rapids classed between three and five (out of six).

As a complete newbie to rafting, I was slightly perturbed by these high numbers - especially since my guidebook mentioned 'death' three times in its class five description. But everyone else turned out to be rafting novices too - and my worries were eased by the instructor's confident description of the rapids as "just a great adrenaline rush". Still, I paid serious attention to his advice about holding on tightly!

It was a couple of hours drive north-east of Kathmandu to the rafting put-in point. Our first day was on the lower section of the Bhote Kosi so that we would be eased into white-water rafting with some smaller rapids.

The guys from Ultimate Rivers were a really professional bunch - making sure we all knew the safety procedures and running through the commands before we even got into the rafts. So it was with some confidence that we set off downstream and bumped along through a few class two and three rapids.

Trying to paddle in unison bonded the eight members of our little raft together and we laughed and joked our way through the rapids, enjoying the blazing sunshine. It wasn't even hard work since the river charges down off the Himalayas at a fair pace that sped us south without much effort.

So it was with some mild thrills and some intentional spills that we made it down to the take-out point around four hours later - meeting the bus that took us up to Ultimate Rivers' Last Resort where we were staying the night.

Settled into the side of a steep, tropical gorge, the Last Resort lives up to its name - it is less than 12km from the Tibetan border. Even the lodges I've stayed at in Kashmir and around Annapurna struggle to compare to the dramatic location this place enjoys.

There may be no snow-capped mountains on the horizon but this is because the main event is closer to home. Right on the doorstep in fact - as entry to the resort is only by crossing the 166 metre-long bridge spanning the gorge.

For me, a small platform in the centre of the bridge stood out immediately. You see, I'd signed up for the bungee jump off this thing. For some reason when I had been told back in Kathmandu that the 160 metre freefall was either the second or third highest in the world, I hadn't been fazed. But it all seemed a very different proposition from up there!

Even though none of my rafting chums were taking the plunge (bungee jumping bumped the whole price of rafting up to $110 (£55) - including the night spent at the Last Resort), I had a chat with some of the jumpers from earlier that day who tried to put me at ease. "Just keep looking forward and jump" was the simplest and best advice I was offered - though I admit I was not completely convinced.

At 08:30 the next morning, I was up on the bridge again - this time with a glorified elastic band strapped round my ankles. I tentatively waved to the rafting guys who had got up to see my attempted demise and then it was "1-2-3 bungee!".

Apparently, the scream I let out on the way down sounded like a dying monkey, but this turned to whoops of delights as the river below stopped speeding towards me and I bounced back up for some more freefalling. It was insanely fun, completely pointless and easier than I thought - the climb back up was by far the hardest part!

My adrenaline kept pumping the rest of the day as we took on some class four and five rapids, made even more exciting by the torrential rain which forced us quickly downriver on its muddy swell.

A couple more people fell out, prompting panicked rescues. But we were all intact enough to climb on to the roof of the bus and hold on tightly once more as we dried ourselves off on the way back to Kathmandu.

Nick Claxton