A view of the Annapurna ranges in western Nepal.

A sprinkling of leeches

"Pass the torch."
The beam shone on a pair of bare legs.
"There’s one!"
Salt was sprinkled onto the unwelcome visitor as it slowly crawled up its host’s leg.
The manic leech check was made every five minutes at the height of our paranoia of these blood-sucking worms.
"There’s another one," someone else discovered while we were seated in the mess tent.
Although the monsoon season had ended on the Terai (a flat strip of flat and fertile land between India and the mountains) in western Nepal, some stray leeches had stayed on to welcome us to the region.
We smothered our fee with insect repellant in an attempt to ward of the straggling army of leeches.
"I’ve found another one," someone else announced.
The leeches stealthily crept up our legs during the week as we continued our trek around the Annapurna foothills.
Our trek leader (wrongly) advised us that we would walk through leech territory for just one or two days. They followed us for at least five.
Stopping for lunch and dinner became an obsession of leech-phobia. We made repetitious checks of our boots, socks, day packs, sleeping bags and tents.
"Leave your boots outside, thanks," I warned my tent-mate as I shone a torch on her feet for the routine inspection, "and don’t bring any leeches in with you."
We spent each night in terror while zipped into our sleeping bags, imagining the hordes of leeches lying in wait outside. The monsoon would have brought plagues of them just a few months earlier.
We finally left the ranges behind us as we returned to lower altitude and headed for a 2-day rest at a jungle lodge in Chitwan National Park in southern Nepal.

Queue for the loo

Waiting in line for the loo tent at Pokhara camp.

Bouncing through the rapids

"Back! Back!"
The oars spliced through the water as we sped towards a huge rock.
"Everybody, back paddle!" our captain ordered.
Waves splashed over the raft while the swirling current pushed us toward the rocky shore.
"Now, forward paddle."
We steered out of the whirlpool, just inches away from capsizing the raft.
Our captain briefly explained the next rapid before we were frantically paddling through the turbulent water again. We bounced through "Upset", "Monsoon" and "Surprise" and momentarily enjoyed the calm waters as we floated downstream on the Trisuli River.
It was a day of energetic white water rafting at the end of our 8-day Annapurna trek in western Nepal.
Mojo, our captain, instructed us on the art of rafting, giving us implicit instructions about staying out of the water.
"Remember, don’t panic," he advised.
"If you fall in, hold your breath for 10 seconds. The current will eventually push you out of the rapids." The river ahead beckoned us into its swirling waters as we prepared for the oncoming challenge.
I pushed my leg tightly against the inside of the rubber raft and gripped the paddle.
The raft bounced with the first wave as another splashed cold water onto my face.
We moved quickly through the rapid, everyone rowing almost to the captain’s orders.
The river swirled through "Electricity", "S Rapid" and "Ping Pong" before it slowed down into another calm section.
"You can go for a swim here," Mojo said.
With that order, we pushed ourselves backwards into the cold, refreshing waters. The life jackets bouyed us as we floated along with the current.
We swam around the rafts, twirling and somersaulting through the water. It was a refreshing break from the action on board the rafts.
We pulled ourselves back onto the boat for the next onslaught of rapids before our scheduled lunch stop.
As we dried out in the sun an hour later, our boat crew spread out the tarpaulin and the accompanying array of Nepalese food.

Jungle stampede

I grabbed the harness as the elephant suddenly raced from its berth.
We lunged on its back, streaking through the jungle toward the open plain.
The morning sun sparkled on the tall elephant grass, but that temptation did not low down our racy ride.
Our elephant driver chuckled as we sped along the the ground, leaving the rest of our convoy well behind us.
It was a calculated stunt, giving us a final memory of our relaxing stay at the jungle lodge.
Eight previous days without luxury made our lodges feel like mansions, the kerosene lamps adding a rustic feel to the experience.
At night we danced and sang with the locals, enjoying the homely atmosphere of the lodge.
During the day we took short walks around the compound, looking for rhinos and the infamous Bengali Tigers.
We left the calm scenery behind us now as the elephant ploughed its way through the river toward the waiting jeep and bus which would take us back to Kathmandu and our final sojourn toward Everest.

Trekking towards Everest.

The peak of Ama Dablam, near Mt Everest on the Himalayan ranges.

A Nepalese stupa, one of many Buddhist structures dotting the landscape.

A group of children greet us along the path.

Hanging out the washing in between treks.

Sunrise on the peaks

Everest. The world’s highest peak towered into the morning sky.
Sagarmatha, as the locals called it, soared 8848m high among the Himalayan ranges in north-eastern Nepal.
Our 40km hike up to 13,600 feet had ended with spectacular views of the famed mountains.
Now we stood outside our tents at Thyangboche as the sun cast its first rays across the snow-capped peaks, our campsite nestled among them on the morning of our descent to lower ground.
We silently absorbed the atmosphere of the Himalayas as an avalanche rumbled down the side of a mountains across the nearest peak.

Above: Thyangboche camp at 3870m: our last - and highest - campsite before returning back to Lukla for the flight to Kathmandu. Everest base camp is a further 7-day trek from this point.

A 500m take-off

The engines whirred, sending a violent shiver through the small twin-engine plane.
Fear streaked across our faces, as the runway disappeared 500m ahead of us and fell thousands of feet to the valley below.
Suddenly we were being whisked along one of the world's shortest runways.
The ground raced away from below us as we flew up into the clouds, leaving the tiny village of Lukla behind us.
Rising above the clouds, we had our final view of the giant Himalayan ranges as we headed back to Kathmandu, a spectacular end to an unforgettable trekking experience.