A Himalayan adventure

Within its diminutive land mass sandwiched between Asian superpowers India and China, Nepal boasts the world's highest number of Unesco World Heritage sites. These beautiful man-made and natural sites are sprinkled throughout the Himalayas, relics frozen in time from a culture and time that is slowly becoming less visible in the seething capital, Kathmandu.

Arriving alongside scores of culture buffs with their volumes of travel guides and history books are outdoor enthusiasts looking to test their physical limits to the extremes by pitting themselves against the dramatic landscape Nepal has to offer. The undulating mountains - which include seven of the world's ten highest peaks - and gushing rivers and rapids heightened by the monsoon weather form the perfect playground for adrenaline junkies.

Having flown in from Dubai where my time is mostly spent plonked at my desk, sitting in traffic or lounging on the beach I was looking forward to stretching my legs and the limits of my physical endurance.

Upon my arrival at the small, unpretentious Kathmandu airport, I was welcomed by a refreshing blast of fresh Himalayan air. Making my way into the city centre in an almost antique car, with exposed seat springs to hold me in place, the mountain air made way for smog. As traffic piled up with tuk tuks and motobikes snaking their way through the chaos, so did the pollution. My eyes began to swell and water as the cars in front of me coughed and spewed out gasoline fumes.

The city itself is a time-tested maze where ancient wooden carvings fronting homes are resignedly crumbling even as the apartment blocks are accepting their age openly. Around every street corner are antique statues and ornaments smothered in layers of urban grime. A wander into the aptly named ‘freak street' revealed a hotbed of tourists with shops and cafes catering to their every need. Anachronistic flower power enthusiasts sporting nests of dreadlocks mingled with seasoned backpackers while Nepalese traders hawked their wares on the street.

Looking to make a quick getaway into the unsullied environment of the mountains, I hopped on to an early morning bus heading towards The Last Resort - a basic, but comfortable camp perched on a mountain ridge near the Tibetan border.

The Last Resort, owned by a Nepalese and Australian duo, was set up as an afterthought. The adventurous pair scouted high and low for the perfect place to build a suspension bridge from where they could set up a bungee jump. The bridge, which now swings 160 metres above the rapids acts as the only path into the camp but is also an easy shortcut for locals who previously had to trek five hours up and down gorges to reach the other side of the mountain.

The camp offers a wide range of activities through which you can soak up the great outdoors, with an option of staying in their roomy tents afterwards. Opting to plunge straight into the deep end I went for the more exhilarating of packages on offer: day one: bungee jump and day two: white water rafting along the rapids of the Bhote Khosi river.

The reception area was buzzing with nervous chatter upon arrival. People were weighed and then marked in preparation for the bungee jump. While waiting for my turn, I crouched on the bridge trying not to look down as people launched themselves off, their screams echoing up and down the canyon.

And then my name was called.

My first instinct was to run away as far and fast as my shaky legs could carry me. Instead I somehow willed my body to walk forward, smiling meekly at all the onlookers cheering me on.

The harness was placed and tightened and I was led forward. As I teetered towards the edge I could feel the rope, my safety line, tugging on my waist as it dangled down into the abyss. Closing my eyes against the setting sun, I crept closer and closer to the edge and to insanity, my mind screaming at me to turn around. "Three... two... one... BUNGEE!" the man shouted as he let go of me.

The next few seconds were a blur. All I can remember is a rush of wall, a long echoing scream escaping my lips for what seemed like eternity and then a final bounce which allowed me to fall at a much more leisurely speed. Eventually I was lowered down, my heart still pounding in my ears, my mouth agape at the rush.

Arriving back at the camp, my adrenaline slowly draining from me, I was handed a bungee loyalty card which stated that my fourth jump would be free. Who in their right frame of mind would put himself through that ordeal again and again, I wondered. I was told that the record holder did 15 jumps in one day.

For those with steely nerves, there is the option of the canyon swing, the largest swing in the world where adrenaline junkies leap into a free fall of 10m (suspended for seven seconds) before swinging along a pendulum arc of 240m at 150m an hour. Just watching the brave souls swing before me was enough to make my stomach churn.

The next day I was geared up for a white water rafting adventure which, when compared to the activity of the previous day, felt like a stroll in the park. The Bhote Kosi river which we were about to brave is one of Nepal's most famous rivers. My journey took me along a series of thundering rapids where I would be screamed at to cling on to my raft for dear life, interspersed with periods of calm where I would sit back, wave at the men fishing along the shore and even dive in for a quick icy swim.

After experiencing enough adrenaline to last me a lifetime, I was eager to soak up the ethereal beauty of the Himalayan mountains in all their splendour.

My next stop was the beautiful city of Pokhara. Positioned north west of Kathmandu, Pokhara's draw lies in the magnificent Annapurna mountain range that fringes the city's skyline. From any point, whether you choose to relax in one of the numerous coffee shops lining the main street, or take a walk along the scenic mountain trails interspersed throughout the landscape, you'd be treated to a glorious view of the mountain range turning pink in the sunset and gleaming white during the day.

The flight over was a test of the nerves in itself. Curiously named Yeti airlines, the rickety plane arrived a few hours late, one pilot short. As I took my seat sandwiched between towering hand luggage and another passenger I wondered how these flights actually pull it off. A little bit of turbulence and two packets of in-flight peanuts later the plane made a bumpy landing in the misty Himalayan city of Pokhara.

A more relaxed destination than the fast-paced, smog-filled capital, Pokhara gave me a chance to relax and stretch my legs. The Phewa Tal lake dotted with gliding boats acts as the town centrepiece. For only a few dirhams, I tested my rowing skills in the bare-bones boats half filled with water. Rowing around in circles, I could see the soaring paragliders dashing in and between the clouds along with the gliding eagles ascending and descending with the wind. The rest of the day was spent exploring the surrounding countryside and nearby caves and temples. With a clean pair of lungs, I headed back to the haze of Kathmandu for the final leg of my trip.

Looking to cram in a last bit of relaxation into my itinerary before heading back to Dubai, I booked myself into the Hyatt Regency, Kathmandu. Set in 37 acres of landscaped gardens, the hotel is situated just outside the main city centre, right on the doorstep of the World Heritage Site Bodha Stupa, making it the perfect getaway from the bustle of Kathmandu's centre. The architecture and gardens were fashioned after traditional Newari houses and proved to be the perfect setting to sit back, enjoy the fresh mountain air and think back to all the adventures of the past couple of days.

For an all-encompassing experience of the Nepali cuisine I headed to Krisharpan restaurant. Depending on the appetite, hungry tourists have a choice of anything between six and 22 courses. I modestly opted for the six-course option. For the next three hours, I was plied with a series of miniature dishes from all regions in the country each bursting with the flavour of locally grown vegetables and meat. Each course was presented to me by a flock of waiters, all wearing the traditional clothing of their region.

As my short, action-packed holiday came to a very filling and pampered end, I made my way back to Kathmandu's humble airport, sliding myself between rucksacks and hiking gear carrying the wears and tears of a long and challenging trek to get to the plane. Back at my desk-bound existence in Dubai, I found myself day-dreaming of the Himalayan expanses and in an attempt to relive my crazier days I replayed my bungee jump to anyone who would watch. While it was short and sweet, it was a break that would be imprinted in my mind for a long time to come.