On the corner of Thamel Chowk, Kathmandu, sat a fruit and veg seller. His stall covered in bananas, spinach, peppers and much more. That stall is gone now. It’s a supermarket. This stall holder knew the comings and goings of most of the river guides in town. It was a time before cell phones and the internet. If you wanted to message a friend, you left a note at the stall. That is how I first began guiding in Nepal. I had already had my ‘gap year’ kayaking in Norway and working down in Evje for Troll. I learnt lots, I made mistakes, but I never thought I would be guiding again – I thought I would have a proper job. More than twenty years later, this has not come to pass. Each career or job I have taken I have sacrificed or halted in order to get a flight east. I know the streets of Kathmandu better than I know my home town, and as time progressed the same is true of Rishikesh, Leh, Manali and now Paro.
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