The campsites are stunning. The first, at Karsha, is windy and dusty, a small strip of beach backed by a tableland hemmed in by enormous mountains. The other, at Honyo-Pidmo, is a generous, grassy flat inhabited by millions of grasshoppers that get into our tents, bags and clothes. Camp life slows to simple sensory pleasures sun, breeze, grass, a snooze, a little walk, maybe some yoga, a chat. Long, lazy afternoons are followed by sunsets of cloudy, molten gold that dissipate to reveal a star-encrusted sky. In the mornings, camp comes to life around 6am. The crew already has hot tea and breakfast waiting, and by the time we've packed our drybags and tent, they've packed the kitchen, prepped the rafts, and cleaned up any rubbish. By 9am, we're on the water.