We have been looking forward to the opportunity to relax and chill in Chitwan, after the stress of India, but our programme here is pretty full on. No chance for a lie in as we have a river canoe trip for bird watching first thing. It is beautiful and peaceful and calm as we push off in our dugout canoe, 8 to a boat. We are not twitchers, and the giggles and gasps as we wobble along in the unstable vessels must be scaring off any wildlife for miles around. Nonetheless, we are able to spot several different types of startling blue kingfishers, various lapwings, even peacocks, high in the trees and a huge serpent eagle, hunting for his dinner in the jungle.
Our guide tells us there are 2 types of crocodiles in the river, one of which is harmless, and I am keeping a keen eye on the water and river banks as we lead the convoy of canoes along the winding river. There is nothing and I am convinced our guide has been leading us astray. Suddenly, way behind us we hear screams and yells. Probably one of the girls has splashed water on someone and tipped the boat too far. A few minutes later they catch us up, ashen faced and still laughing nervously. An alligator had, allegedly, 'flown out of the water' alongside their boat, with jaws fully open. No photos. No evidence. Who's ever heard of Flying crocodiles, anyway.
We step gingerly off the boats and gather to begin our jungle trek. It's already starting to spot with rain and the guide warns about leeches. As we set off, I copy the guide, tucking my long trousers inside my socks, feeling a bit of an eejit. Some of the guys are only wearing sandals and shorts. We have separated into smaller groups, each with 2 guides and big sticks. I'm not quite sure how these scrawny little men with wooden sticks are going to protect us from a charging rhino or aggressive sloth bear (which, incidentally, is nothing like a sloth), let alone a tiger. I look around my group. I'm ok as long as I can run faster than the slowest in our group. Yep. I should be fine! We trek along the narrow, almost undefinable path, eyes peeled for wildlife. At the back, Matt and Allen keep up a constant hum about football, or maybe it's baseball. Fortunately, the wildlife of Chitwan must be well used to clumsy tourists, stampeding through their jungle, as it's not long before our guide puts his fingers to his lips for hush and points towards a distant bush. Damn. I left my glasses behind. I peer and squint, edging closer forward, in front of the guide. It's not a distant bush but a couple of rhinos, seemingly oblivious to our existence. We carry on,. I'm scanning the jungle around me, convinced I will be able to spot the tiger bounding towards our group before the guide. An ever watchful eye for sloth bears and leopards. Now I'm at the back and the guide pulls a few of us back to point out a large bee's nest up a tree. Warily, I look around again. That must be just tooo tempting for a sloth bear. We carry on trekking as the rain starts to fall a little heavier. Suddenly, the guides both run in front of us and tell us to move back as quickly and quietly as possible. What's going on? We scatter behind them unsure what we're supposed to do. Then, we see the rhinos up front. They have looked up from grazing and are starting to trot around towards us. I look for a nice big thick tree to hide behind should the charge come. Why are there never any big, thick trees, with low branches to climb up when you want one? The guides remain between us and the rhinos as we move back and away. Eventually they signal that it's all ok and we continue on. The rain starts to pelt down and we are quickly soaked to the skin. Only my feet remain dry but that won't last long. Several of the group are already squealing with the leeches as they squirm in through the airholes in the sandals and shoes, or climb up their legs before locking on for a 3 course meal of blood, blood and more blood. At one time, we count 10 on Matt's legs. He must have very sweet blood. Even those who have tucked in trousers and long sleeves, manage to get leeches in places, you couldn't conceive a leech getting into. But, starving leeches are like fine silk threads, able to crawl through fabric in search of a good dinner. The guides ask if we have had enough and want to go back. But we are charged with adrenalin, and vote unanimously to carry on. As we move deeper into the jungle, the rain becomes torrential and we are slopping along in muddy puddles. There is absolutely no part of my body which has escaped getting wet and my feet slurp around in my shoes. I am only grateful that I seem to have escaped the leeches. I must have very bad blood. I spot a couple making a play for it across my shoes, trying to get in the eyelets. No dinner for you today, as I flick them off.
Eventually we exit the jungle at the river where the rhinos from last night are back in the water. We need to get to the other side but there are no canoes visible. One of the guides walks up to his waist in the water less than 20m from the rhinos. They look up, but ignore him. The canoes are just around the bend and on their way. But we are already soaked through and decide that we can't get any more wet so we might as well forge the river, ever mindful of the earlier crocodile incident and the rhinos so close by. We follow the guide across the river and wait for the land rover to appear. It's been an eventful morning and we are the last group back.
Back at camp, most people have rushed off to get changed. We had been told that, due to the high number of tourists that day, we would probably not get to bath the elephants as promised, but, as we arrive, a couple of elephants are on their way to the river. Still in soaking wet clothes, we follow along and are treated to the fun of climbing on the back of the elephants and have them soak us with water before rolling over in the river to shake us off or even to jump from the elephant into the water. I'm not quite sure who is bathing who. As there are only a few of us, we spend a happy half hour before returning to camp to work out how we are going to wash and dry our clothes and shoes in this sodden and humid environment.
In the afternoon, we all line up for the scheduled elephant ride. It reminds me a bit of Jaipur as we climb the steps to clamber onto the wooden platform on the elephant's back. We are 4 to an elephant and it is so uncomfortable. We set off into the jungle again, in convoy. In a clearing there is a rhino and baby. There must be 10 elephants circling mum and babe but she seems unperturbed as cameras click. We carry on in convoy and see deer, monkeys and more rhinos, forging the river back and forth on the elephant's back. By the time we get back, my legs and arms are black and blue from the frame and tree branches.
Dinner that night is at the hotel we should have stayed at. Having been promised a home cooked meal it is more than a bit disappointing. After, we sit around a camp fire, and feed bananas to the hotel's pet elephant, which is huge and cheeky, seeking out small pieces from our hands with her trunk. Matt and Allen entertain us with a few songs before it is time to return to our lodge to pack for the next day. As we settle down for the night, we hear a loud shout and a few screams from outside. Probably a few of our group messing around. Then there is a knock at the door and Isabelle is there, looking pale and wan. 'There is a spider in our room' she says with a hint of her German accent. My roomie, Amanda, is also not fond of spiders so I rise to the challenge. I mean, how awful can it be? I don't have to touch it. It can't be that scary. I follow Isabelle back into the room she shares with Laura. Laura is cowering in a corner and points to the last known location of the spider. It's on the wall, and it's the strangest looking thing I've every seen. Brightly coloured with long thick legs and a huge body, it's only about the size of the palm of my hand but as fast as lightning. It runs across the ceiling and down the wall into Isabelle's bag and clothes. As we pull her stuff out to get to it I hold a large glass poised. There it is, ready to pounce. But I'm faster. I slam the glass down, trapping its legs under the rim. A bit of manoeuvring and I have it secured. A bit of card underneath to hold it in place and the spider is rehoused outside in the jungle.
That night I sleep with one eye in open, just in case it has a friend. Do spiders travel in pairs?
Our guide tells us there are 2 types of crocodiles in the river, one of which is harmless, and I am keeping a keen eye on the water and river banks as we lead the convoy of canoes along the winding river. There is nothing and I am convinced our guide has been leading us astray. Suddenly, way behind us we hear screams and yells. Probably one of the girls has splashed water on someone and tipped the boat too far. A few minutes later they catch us up, ashen faced and still laughing nervously. An alligator had, allegedly, 'flown out of the water' alongside their boat, with jaws fully open. No photos. No evidence. Who's ever heard of Flying crocodiles, anyway.
We step gingerly off the boats and gather to begin our jungle trek. It's already starting to spot with rain and the guide warns about leeches. As we set off, I copy the guide, tucking my long trousers inside my socks, feeling a bit of an eejit. Some of the guys are only wearing sandals and shorts. We have separated into smaller groups, each with 2 guides and big sticks. I'm not quite sure how these scrawny little men with wooden sticks are going to protect us from a charging rhino or aggressive sloth bear (which, incidentally, is nothing like a sloth), let alone a tiger. I look around my group. I'm ok as long as I can run faster than the slowest in our group. Yep. I should be fine! We trek along the narrow, almost undefinable path, eyes peeled for wildlife. At the back, Matt and Allen keep up a constant hum about football, or maybe it's baseball. Fortunately, the wildlife of Chitwan must be well used to clumsy tourists, stampeding through their jungle, as it's not long before our guide puts his fingers to his lips for hush and points towards a distant bush. Damn. I left my glasses behind. I peer and squint, edging closer forward, in front of the guide. It's not a distant bush but a couple of rhinos, seemingly oblivious to our existence. We carry on,. I'm scanning the jungle around me, convinced I will be able to spot the tiger bounding towards our group before the guide. An ever watchful eye for sloth bears and leopards. Now I'm at the back and the guide pulls a few of us back to point out a large bee's nest up a tree. Warily, I look around again. That must be just tooo tempting for a sloth bear. We carry on trekking as the rain starts to fall a little heavier. Suddenly, the guides both run in front of us and tell us to move back as quickly and quietly as possible. What's going on? We scatter behind them unsure what we're supposed to do. Then, we see the rhinos up front. They have looked up from grazing and are starting to trot around towards us. I look for a nice big thick tree to hide behind should the charge come. Why are there never any big, thick trees, with low branches to climb up when you want one? The guides remain between us and the rhinos as we move back and away. Eventually they signal that it's all ok and we continue on. The rain starts to pelt down and we are quickly soaked to the skin. Only my feet remain dry but that won't last long. Several of the group are already squealing with the leeches as they squirm in through the airholes in the sandals and shoes, or climb up their legs before locking on for a 3 course meal of blood, blood and more blood. At one time, we count 10 on Matt's legs. He must have very sweet blood. Even those who have tucked in trousers and long sleeves, manage to get leeches in places, you couldn't conceive a leech getting into. But, starving leeches are like fine silk threads, able to crawl through fabric in search of a good dinner. The guides ask if we have had enough and want to go back. But we are charged with adrenalin, and vote unanimously to carry on. As we move deeper into the jungle, the rain becomes torrential and we are slopping along in muddy puddles. There is absolutely no part of my body which has escaped getting wet and my feet slurp around in my shoes. I am only grateful that I seem to have escaped the leeches. I must have very bad blood. I spot a couple making a play for it across my shoes, trying to get in the eyelets. No dinner for you today, as I flick them off.
Eventually we exit the jungle at the river where the rhinos from last night are back in the water. We need to get to the other side but there are no canoes visible. One of the guides walks up to his waist in the water less than 20m from the rhinos. They look up, but ignore him. The canoes are just around the bend and on their way. But we are already soaked through and decide that we can't get any more wet so we might as well forge the river, ever mindful of the earlier crocodile incident and the rhinos so close by. We follow the guide across the river and wait for the land rover to appear. It's been an eventful morning and we are the last group back.
Back at camp, most people have rushed off to get changed. We had been told that, due to the high number of tourists that day, we would probably not get to bath the elephants as promised, but, as we arrive, a couple of elephants are on their way to the river. Still in soaking wet clothes, we follow along and are treated to the fun of climbing on the back of the elephants and have them soak us with water before rolling over in the river to shake us off or even to jump from the elephant into the water. I'm not quite sure who is bathing who. As there are only a few of us, we spend a happy half hour before returning to camp to work out how we are going to wash and dry our clothes and shoes in this sodden and humid environment.
In the afternoon, we all line up for the scheduled elephant ride. It reminds me a bit of Jaipur as we climb the steps to clamber onto the wooden platform on the elephant's back. We are 4 to an elephant and it is so uncomfortable. We set off into the jungle again, in convoy. In a clearing there is a rhino and baby. There must be 10 elephants circling mum and babe but she seems unperturbed as cameras click. We carry on in convoy and see deer, monkeys and more rhinos, forging the river back and forth on the elephant's back. By the time we get back, my legs and arms are black and blue from the frame and tree branches.
Dinner that night is at the hotel we should have stayed at. Having been promised a home cooked meal it is more than a bit disappointing. After, we sit around a camp fire, and feed bananas to the hotel's pet elephant, which is huge and cheeky, seeking out small pieces from our hands with her trunk. Matt and Allen entertain us with a few songs before it is time to return to our lodge to pack for the next day. As we settle down for the night, we hear a loud shout and a few screams from outside. Probably a few of our group messing around. Then there is a knock at the door and Isabelle is there, looking pale and wan. 'There is a spider in our room' she says with a hint of her German accent. My roomie, Amanda, is also not fond of spiders so I rise to the challenge. I mean, how awful can it be? I don't have to touch it. It can't be that scary. I follow Isabelle back into the room she shares with Laura. Laura is cowering in a corner and points to the last known location of the spider. It's on the wall, and it's the strangest looking thing I've every seen. Brightly coloured with long thick legs and a huge body, it's only about the size of the palm of my hand but as fast as lightning. It runs across the ceiling and down the wall into Isabelle's bag and clothes. As we pull her stuff out to get to it I hold a large glass poised. There it is, ready to pounce. But I'm faster. I slam the glass down, trapping its legs under the rim. A bit of manoeuvring and I have it secured. A bit of card underneath to hold it in place and the spider is rehoused outside in the jungle.
That night I sleep with one eye in open, just in case it has a friend. Do spiders travel in pairs?
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