We dumped our bags and set out through the town to the river, picking up an ice cream to combat the noticeably warmer weather. The Narayani-Rapti river acts as a kind of fence for the national park, one that didn't stop a cheeky rhino from venturing into town last night (as told to us by the bar owner) We mused on the craziness of this over a cool and frothy local beer, under the shade of a coconut hut. With the last drops soaked up, we walked along the road where we were confronted by two friendly locals, pointing out some crocodiles in the shallows of the river bed. They sat motionless through the lens of borrowed binoculars, as we chatted away to these two guys who happened to be jungle guides with 16 years experience. This chance meeting led to the booking of a 3 day jungle safari adventure - with a supposed 99% chance of seeing a tiger.

The sun begun to hang low in the sky, and an afternoon nap led to hungry bellies. New Years resolution #2: Slower eating equates to healthier digestion. This one was really put to the test with one of the tastiest dhal bats, handmade in the back kitchen accompanied by Nepalese house music pumping through Samsung speakers. Post dinner, we wandered out into the night to see how the festivities were progressing. The town was relatively quiet, aside from a few fairy lights and beeping scooters. We found a comfy bar and some real fireflies (not the headlamp wearing trekking kind previously described) put on a show as we shared drinks on the handmade bamboo balcony and night fell on 2073. Back at the lodge, we drifted off to sleep under the protection of a baby blue mosquito net, below a ceiling of geckos, spiders and insects and the sound of unidentified feet on the roof.

The next morning, there was a crowded and festive taste to the air - open top jeeps flew past full of cheering teenagers, elephants piled high with tourists trudged along the road, horse carts were packed with locals in their best and brightest shades of red yellow and magenta. The new year was in full swing. We had come to see all the life of the jungle, but the streets were proving just as abundant.

Happy to leave this chaos behind, we were excited to be visiting the elephant bathing area. The elephants normally come along at 10.30 every morning, but today they were hard at work in the jungle, playing host to the influx of Nepalis celebrating the new year. Unfortunately for them and for us, this meant no bath time, the river filled with kids and kid-like adults instead. Growing tired of this is a matter of minutes, we spent the rest of the day drinking milkshakes beside a quieter part of the river and being playfully attacked by puppies, kittens and wasps. We shared breakfast, lunch and dinner at a great little Nepalese restaurant down the road - no past, no pizza, no problem!

We awoke to the sounds of rumbling thunder and flashes of rain. What an adventure this was shaping up to be! Donning our best khaki outfits, we headed down to the river to meet our guides and step into the great unknown. Speaking of stepping, we had to insist on leaving the smallest footprint possible - Nepal is no exception to the animal cruelty trade with elephants being used as tourist vehicles or otherwise chained to their straw huts in the town - so we opted for the jungle walk; 3 days through dense jungle, marshlands and grasses, living off local lodges, dhal bat, the thrill of the chase and our own two feet. We were introduced to our guides, Jeetu (meaning winner) and Sunil - a photocopy of his dad who runs the jungle trek store. Armed with a bamboo pole and a keen bird watchers eye, Jeetu's obvious passion and love of wildlife was infectious. We took a dugout canoe down the Rapti river, and were treated to an array of bird life - herons, storks, kingfishers and egrets. The river seemed to boil in certain places, sending us flying along at an unexpected speed.

Our first steps on land were in the giant holes of rhino prints urging us deeper into the jungle. Jeetu took a moment to brief us on how to escape a tiger attack and appropriate tree climbing techniques to avoid a rhino charge; essential info for days to come. We started off, excited and a little tense, our senses acutely aware, ears pricking up at the sound of distant thunder, Jeetu's backwards glance making you feel ashamed of breaking a twig underfoot.

It is illegal to enter the park without 2 professional guides, and the seriousness of this was made instantly clear when Jeetu's eagle eye spotted a lone man up ahead. He swiftly called in the army, happy that the trap was laid, and security cameras would catch the runaway poacher.

It wasn't far from this area that we spotted our first rare jungle resident - a huge and beautiful wild elephant moving through grasses so tall, we could only see properly from an elevated viewing platform frequented by sloth bears. How amazing it is to see these beasts in their natural home, only affirming my inability to understand the appeal of zoos or private ownership.

We followed the jeep track for quite a while, keeping step to a chorus of woodpeckers, swallows and cuckoos, great and small. Our guides attention flicked rapidly between identifying the call of these wild birds, and the progress of the wild runway man.

From a rickety double story viewing tower, I was beyond thrilled to catch a first glimpse of the one-horned rhino. There are over 800 of these guys in the park, but you never forget your first. We watched him graze while sharing peanut cookies, his hard as armour back moving slowly between the same sky high grasses. We walked along the silk cotton tree highway, constantly on guard, ready for our next brush with jungle life. It was at this point that my tummy growled with hunger and we decided to set up lunch camp. The wild thought differently, and my stomach would have to wait a little longer, as Jeetu's senses told him another animal was close, forcing us to backtrack and climb a tree to investigate. We walked the long way around, seeking the protection of a huge fig tree - Jeetu confirming life not far away. We laid low here and devoured a pre-packed fried rice and crackers, within 10 meters of a sleeping rhino. We continued on, our fearless leader beating down nettle and thorn vines as we walked through a real life scene from the jungle book. We went through an area of forest where the monkeys danced curiously overhead, while deer scattered at the first sound of our clumsy feet. These two guys work together in the forest, the monkeys throw down fruit and nuts and warn of predators, while the deer provide safe and comfortable river-crossing taxis when monsoon season hits.

By this point, we had walked almost 25kms through the forest, and our day packs were starting to pull on our shoulders, our t-shirts soaked through with sweat. We noticed a bit of a commotion up ahead, so we picked up the pace to find a huge rhino, up close and personal. It's easy to forget that you're out in the wild, and these creatures could attack you at any moment, our having no protection except that aforementioned bamboo pole. We used a passing jeep as a barrier just in case he didn't enjoy our company - but I don't think he cared at all, he was seeking tasty bushes from a swampy area a few meters away. We couldn't believe our luck and lots of photos were taken. Crocodiles lined the road edge as we strode out the final 5 kilometres to the edge of the park. Sunset wasn't far away, and we were definitely ready to call it a day.Our hot and tired bodies combined into a hot mass on the back seat of a local bus built for people no taller than 1 meter, leg room to match. We disembarked shortly after, a little confused why we couldn't see a lodge / some form of sleeping or eating. Communication barriers meant that we were unaware we would have to cross a 10km lowland barefoot, as the sun went down and darkness fell. We probably would have enjoyed the unexpectedness more if patience wasn't wearing thin, severe chaffing hadn't attacked and a strange rash from the jungle leaves hadn't developed all over our legs - We definitely got the adventure we were asking for. When we finally arrived at the local village, the hut we were staying in was made of buffalo poo and mud with a grass roof, the authentic and traditional Nepali way. We self served a tasty dhal bat and sipped on a beer kept cool by a 2ft hole in the ground.

The next morning felt light and fresh, we received a simple breakfast up in the wonky dining room, overlooking the river lands we had cursed the night before. Our lunch came in plastic bags before we set off, hiking along the river edge, watching giant hornbills fly overhead.

We set up a viewing camp on an embankment overlooking a common tiger hangout. Fresh prints (both tiger and sloth bear) in the sand got us excited for the possibility of seeing this one in a million character! I painted all the incredible birds we have seen in the jungle, while Daniel dozed against a tree. We sat in silence for 4 hours, hidden from view by grasses and trees making ourselves at home on a bed of leaves. On a jacket picnic rug, we ate our curry lunch out of plastic bags with our fingers, and contemplated adopting this tradition when we get back home. The most action we saw in our 6 hours of patiently waiting was a family of Gaur crossing the shallow river bed and some tourists atop giant elephants.

This signalled our leaving time - Jeetu looked devastated as he advised that the tiger would be long gone after smelling elephants in the near vicinity. Daniel and I didn't mind, but our guides looked deflated as we trudged back the way we had come earlier that morning. To rub salt in the wound, fresh paw prints confirmed that the tiger has crossed behind us while we were waiting, looking the other way. We crossed the river barefoot and made our way loudly through a leafy part of the forest - any animal would have heard us miles away! We came to a lake shortly after, and had the pleasure of watching a mum and baby rhino take a cool dip - this definitely made up for the morning's efforts.

The sun and humidity begun to take its toll and as if by magic, a passing jeep agreed to give us a lift a few kilometres towards our destination - Daniel was pretty close to kissing the guy! Our hair and beards blew in the wind as we passed herds of deer, ribbon tailed paradise flycatchers and a hoopoe bird. Even with his adoration of the abundant avian life, Jeetu just wasn't satisfied. He had us sitting by the roadside waiting out the jeeps so we would have a better chance of seeing the tiger, he was a man on a mission. As we tried desperately to walk in silence with our eyes peeled, we waited for a family of deer to cross their path in front of us. The whole family was on the move and we waited a good 5 minutes. We made our way one last time through the long grasses in search of the tiger, but she remained hidden. Wild boar and rhino made an appearance instead. We said goodbye to the official side of the park as a canoe brought us over the bank, backlit by a magnificent sunset. We spent the night in riverside lodge, meeting the town signwriter and listening to the cries of barking deer and peacocks in the distance.

A new day, a new bag of food and a new forest to explore. We ventured into the buffer zone, better known as the community forest, where locals still live in semi-harmony with the wildlife. We crossed marshy shorelines full of dragonflies, swallows and women strewn across fields picking the freshest grasses to feed their water buffalo. We set up tiger watch camp again in the most idyllic spot - elevated above the river edge, hidden by a perfect canopy - this time, with views up and down the river. Message travelled quickly by local man on canoe, there had been recent sightings a few hundred meters down the bank. Jeetu got excited. We waited and waited, dozed, sketched, chatted and ate (again with our fingers, mine are slowly becoming more apt to the correct angles and technique). As the hours ticked over, and storks, duck, turtle and butterflies remained our main company, we were losing hope. Jeetu fell asleep - his snores were about as close as we would come to being in the presence of a tiger. At 2.30, we packed up our belongings and started the trek back to civilisation. We were ready for a cold shower but thoroughly chuffed by all we had seen the last few days.

3 days, 2 guides, 65 kms and 1 steaming jungle.
Next time mrs tiger, next time.

Update: In a previous post Daniel described the debacle of my lost kindle. I am pleased to announce that he has returned home after nearly 4 long weeks and endless phone calls - thanks to the kind folk at Thorong Pedi Base Camp Lodge, an emergency helicopter, a private car, and delivery by bicycle via the father-in-law of the son whose father owns the lodge. Both kindle and I feel very much a part of the family, and are currently in a permanent embrace.