Winter is usually the season of trips. And there is no shortage of places to visit in Bangladesh. One of the best places to visit would be the Napittachhora waterfall in Chittagong. Here’s a short, essay type look into how my day went on such a trip.
At 11 am on a Friday morning we set off, with Napittachhora Waterfall as our destination. There were only three of us. Even though the original plan was to meet at 9 am, we always ended up being late. And thus we found ourselves trekking through hills under the glare of the mid-noon sun.
It took us about an hour to get to Mirashorai from the city. Then we asked the locals how to get to Noyaduaria road; where we would continue the rest of the path on foot.
From the main highway, it took us another half an hour of walking through the village path. A road between rice fields and vegetable plantations led to the first large stream. Here is where the trail really began. We asked for directions at the intersections. The villagers were kind enough to point us in the right direction. Some of them even offered us lunch on our way back.
We crossed this particular house. In large pink lettering, the words ‘Ekhane adhunik oh ruchishil khabar pawa jay’ were painted across the wall. We found that amusing and frankly the food was good.
Most of the travel pages will recommend hiring a guide. You could go without one, but in hindsight, I may be biased. There was no shortage of guides on the way, so don’t worry about where to find one. I was confident that we didn’t need a guide, so we didn’t get one.
When we reached the first big stream, we saw only the native people who lived there. It was most amusing when two brothers, one about 13 and the other no older than 10, were offering to be our guide for a bargain price of 200tk. Shahid and Shamsil had managed to get lost on a different trip once before and were less inclined to risk it this time. In the end, using the combined powers of bargaining, we agreed to hire the little brother for 150tk.
We paled in trekking skills when compared to our little guide, named Shonka Tripura. While we were struggling, even Shamsil with his long limbs, Shonka was casually walking through the treacherous, slippery, rocky terrain as if taking a stroll. Trained by years of living in these hills, he could have scaled it in such time that it would make a mockery of us. And I on occasions felt as though he was.
There was a particularly tricky stretch of the trail right near the end, where stepping over the stream was not an option. Whereas until then we could see ground beneath the water, here the current was strong enough that it had eroded the bed and formed small pools of water of which we could not see the bottom. The stepping stones were more slippery, the ground was muddier, and one slip could lead to situations we would rather not imagine. Shonka was way ahead, of course. So far ahead, that we had lost sight of him. With some expertise and some holding on to rocks with both hands for dear life, we made our way to the Napittachhora waterfall.
It took us about an hour from where the first large stream began. Given it was winter, and it hadn’t rained for a while, it wasn’t exactly what we were expecting when we saw the pictures. This is when all three of us silently regretted not picking a “winter spot” to go on a trip to. I know this because we all slowly sat down and were telling each other (and ourselves) how it was a challenging trek up the stream.