Far north from where the Ganges becomes a dark soup, the sacred river is clear and perfect for rafting.
Swept overboard by the churning rapids of the Ganges River, our rafting mate struggles in his life jacket and helmet to get back to our boat, terror flashing in his eyes. I sit closest to his flailing hands and the rest of the group shouts for me to get hold of him.
Just moments before, the scene had been anything but frantic. We’d all been drifting in the raft in calm emerald-coloured water in the foothills of the Himalayas.