next trip

I'm planning to cycle from Puri (in Orissa, SW of Kolkata) to Darjeeling (in West Bengal) in February/March 2010. The intended route is at Bikely.

MELBOURNE II

Here's a map of the trip (click on it for an enlarged view) ...

MELBOURNE

After an exhausting 29 hours since arriving at Delhi airport I'm finally back home in Melbourne. Both I & the bike are well. So, this journey's over - what's left to be said? Nothing much other than Nepal to Delhi by bike is quite achievable: nose down, bum up, and just pedal (although admittedly I found it very hard going on some stretches of road). And there were some stunning sights and places along the way - Bandipur, Tansen & surroundings, Bardia National Park, the evocatively-named Siddhartha Highway, Lumbini, the Annapurna ranges - wow! and the Terai, despite being flat over much of its course, was a very interesting & varied landscape to cycle through.

















Hairpin bend on the ride down from Bandipur

SHANGHAI !

Here I am sitting at Shanghai airport, having initially arrived at Delhi airport (DEL) some 18½ hours ago (9pm on Sunday 30th) to hopefully depart for Melbourne via Bangkok with Thai Airways . At first I'd planned to get there 2 hours before the scheduled departure time but then thought that perhaps arriving 3 hours beforehand might be prudent, given the problems at Bangkok airport .When I arrived at DEL (with my bike suitably depedalled, dehandlebarred and with derailleurs enclosed in cardboard & air let out of tyres as requested by airlines, and hence rendering it incredibly unwieldly to manoeuvre it about the airport as I ended up being required to do, from one end to the other, several times) the electronic flight indicator said my flight had been cancelled, and this was echoed by the occasional recorded announcement, encouragingly inviting affected passengers to "contact your airline." After muttering the obvious under my breath, and perhaps even audibly, I went to the Help desk, where I received a different & happier message: the flight was still on. A lengthy queue had already formed, and incredibly, given I was there so early, I found myself almost at the end of it. After waiting for over 2 hours in what I think was the slowest moving queue I have ever encountered, I was instructed to wait at the side as Thai said they would buy me a ticket with China Eastern airlines (who?) to take me to Melbourne via Shanghai. Fantastic! - I'd feared being stuck in Delhi or Bangkok for days. I was promptly booked in with the aforementioned airline but I quickly noted from the looks of their officials that the bike was going to be a problem. First up they insisted that I get it wrapped in plastic, but the machine operator at the airport couldn't do it as it wasn't geared up for bicycles. On returning to the counter, an official glared at the bike and then me and said that they were going to levy an additional charge to take the bike. I expostulated, noting that this was unprecedented in well over a decades' biking (and the bike plus check-in luggage was only slightly over, and within accepted limits at 21.3 kg) but my words were countered with examples of other airlines that allegedly also charged to carry bikes. Luckily Thai Airways who had bought the ticket for me (how helpful they were) managed to have this charge waived. After this, it was off to get the bike X-rayed - no problems here, and it was whisked away, hopefully to re-emerge at Tullamarine. Another 1½ hours & I should be out of here (the plane departs at 18:15), and I am to arrive in Melbourne via Sydney at 7:30am on Tuesday. Fingers crossed.

DELHI - IV

This place! ... I just noticed a little digital camera tucked in behind the computer ... when I asked the attendant (who earlier insisted I write my FULL address in the internet book and not just Suburb, Country ... and I did tell him to 'nick off' this time) what it was he explained "safety!". When I pursued it he revealed that it's there to photograph or video internet users ... to make sure it's only being used by hotel guests (we pay for it). I must have annoyed him because now he's hassling me for my passport! No more smiles my end. :

DELHI - III

Hmm ... not looking good re my departure from here to Melbourne via Bangkok in just over 30 hours time, from what I hear re the situation at Bangkok airport, and the Thai Airways website is not exactly a fount of information ... I haven't really turned my mind to any contingency plan yet. Today I again braved the Delhi traffic, which seemed much easier for some reason - was it because it's Saturday, or the election today, or have I become a bit more accustomed to the hair-raising nature of cycling here ... perhaps a bit of each. So today I cycled to the mid-16th century Humayun's Tomb & the 16th century Purana Qila fort, followed by a snack and coffee with cream at the United Coffee House, a 1940's restaurant in Connaught Place.

DELHI - II

Terrible to read about the attacks in Mumbai but there's little point in me worrying about anything happening here in Delhi. If I were to be concerned, it'd more about the closures of the airports in Bangkok, given that I'm due to transit there on Monday a.m. However, the biggest risk to my life here is probably cycling in the Delhi traffic. After a day of almost total hibernation & recuperation after 4 days of cycling (to quote my good friend Felix: "after riding, you stay in your hotel, inside, with nothing moving" ) I ventured out into Delhi on the bicycle yesterday to try & get my bearings a little & to visit the museum, a few kilometres south of where I'm staying. It was quite harrowing at times, especially when having to cross several lanes (not really an accurate descriptor) of traffic on some of the one-way roads to make the required left or right hand turning. I've not been totally discouraged however after reading in this morning's paper here that yesterday had been a particularly bad day for "traffic snarls" in central Delhi due to the added numbers of visitors to the India International Trade Fair being held here, as well as a number of politicians being in town, political rallies, and weddings!

Cleaning the bike down for the aeroplane ride back home is always an issue, as Australian customs are especially rigourous if you've cycled through rural areas, and sometimes a good option is to hire a local kid to do the job. However, my room at the hotel has, in the bathroom, a very high-pressured hose next to the loo, with which I was able to blast away every speck of dried mud & grime from the bike frame & tyres. Wow! All hotels should have these as mandatory equipment! (it's so high pressured that I'd not be game to use it for its designated purpose .... you'd end up being hospitalised with internal injuries I'm sure). And yes, the bathroom floor was a little muddy by the time I'd finished.

So while my bike was drying off today I decided to try walking ... doing a loop from here to the massive Red Fort & the Jama Masjid ( a mosque). The route took me along Shardanand/ Shradhanand Road (also known as GB Road) - the red light district. There was little of this in evidence, although one fellow did follow me for a time offering to procure certain services for me. His English was a little hard to follow, but whatever was on offer seemed remarkably cheap. A few women could be seen peering out from the windows above, and there were extremely dubious looking characters hanging around, but otherwise the street seems to specialise in selling pumps & plumbing supplies! Other streets specialise in other products eg paper & stationery supplies in one of the streets I walked back along.

I also note that there's a new sign above the computer here, indicating that they're changing the system to become a "self help Cyber Cafe" just "drop your payment in the box". Before usage, complete your entry in the blue book and "provide photo copy of your passport"! Confusing messages about trust & security here.

DELHI

... hey, I'm now in Delhi in one piece, after a cycling frenzy of over 400km in 4 days, from Mahendranagar to Delhi! "Over 400" because I took a wrong turning & went to a place called Bareilly instead of Rampur, which probably added about 60km to the journey. Time for some R&R, and for resting the buttocks which are feeling a bit sore. So, below comes a blogging frenzy (I've been able to access what i wrote onto my laptop & thence USB...)
[this place! the guy in the internet room at the hotel here in Delhi just asked to see my passport!! (I told him to nick off...) ... the paperwork to just use the internet here is more extensive than what I was required to complete at Banbasa to enter the country. India!! Gotta love it!]

Day 14 cycling: MAHENDRANAGAR to Bareilly
DST= 120.54km; RTM = 7hrs 15 min; AVS = 16.6km/hr; MAX = 49.6km/hr; cadence = 59rpm
ODO (i.e overall odometer reading) = 1094
How sweet - there's a mouse in my room scuttling across the room from time to time. Oh well, I suppose it can't do me any harm; I'll just have to make sure my last few Parle-G biscuits are well hidden away. Crikey though, it's dark around here when the lights go out. I was coming back from the internet place without my headtorch when the lights went - walking back was quite hazardous as of course the blackout didn't deter any drivers, cyclists or livestock. The headtorch I have is a bit dorky; I'd not really come across them before, but my aunt Jocelyn gave it to me a year or so back for a birthday & I did wonder what the hell I'd do with it, but it's been extremely useful on this trip as it's turned out. It was amusing one evening in Bandipur when the lights went out; all of the half-dozen or so tourists sitting in the guest house restaurant had them on. It was a bit like being at an undergound miners' convention, but you had to be mindful about not stickybeaking at anyone because it'd be obvious, and you'd end up blinding them.

The border was about 16 or so kilometres from Mahendranagar, and after an easy ride I arrived at the Nepalese Immigration Office, a small squat nondescript office at the side of the road where a portly fellow pottered around, pasted a stamp in my passport & then rubber-stamped it, all in a pretty low key way. The road to the next office - Indian Immigration - was a shocking stretch of mainly rock & dirt, a bit like the road to Bardia. But the procedure here was a breeze. No customs check; I helped the bloke complete the necessary paperwork, which didn't take long at all, after which he said "welcome to India" and gestured me on. I tried to take a photo of the dam wall that greets you after leaving the office but someone official-sounding shouted at me "no photo!" so I complied (well, I did sneak one a bit later on). The track headed across the dam wall and then I was out & in India! "Where the hell am I? Which way to Delhi?" were my first thoughts. I rode ahead, along a riverbank, past a stand of eucalyptus trees .... a few kilometres further I cycled through a vast troop of monkeys that swarmed across the road & roadside. The road itself, except for a section that had clearly been washed away some months earlier & replaced by a makeshift stony track, was nice & flat & I made good speed. Except I wasn't exactly sure where I was heading, not having any map other than a printout of the map of Uttar Pradesh from Lonely Planet's guide to India ... and I unfortunately didn't have the wherewithal to consult this early on. Before long I found myself on Highway 4, heading to Pilibhit (29km) ... ?! It was a little concerning when I started to ask some locals "Delhi ... Delhi??" & they looked blankly at me, clearly not grasping my pronunciation at all. In fact, I think this is how I found myself heading to Bareilly, which does sound vaguely like "Delhi" if said in a desperate enough tone. This wrong turning - going to Bareilly instead of more directly to Rampur - probably added about 60km to the journey; no big deal in the scheme of things I suppose. It all became clear to me when I finally did recall I had the Uttar Pradesh printout & was able to locate Bareilly & Pilibhit. The ride itself was pleasant enough - heaps of sugar cane, monkeys & brick factories (there seem to be brick factories everywhere I cycle in India... ?). I finally reached Bareilly & then had a devil of job finding somewhere to stay, cycling in what seemed like circles for an eternity. I eventually located the JK Hotel, a dive of a place for which they wanted to charge me 300 INR. Amusingly, the paperwork to stay here was more extensive than what I had needed to fill out to get into the country. First a form, enquiring about all sorts of things relevant to accommodation such as 'father's name', followed by an entry across two pages of an enormous ledger book. Dinner was in the room; for a sum of money I received a rather oily looking mutter paneer, cold rice, 4 chapati wrapped in old newspaper & a Pepsi that the food guy was able to arrange. Not a very appetising meal, but better than breakfast which comprised a cup of plain milk tea & 4 pieces of soggy buttered warm bread (like buttered toast that's been reheated in a microwave, which they most certainly wouldn't have had) wrapped again in old newspaper that looked as if it had been recycled from someone else's earlier meal. Being able to access breakfast was a change however, as most places in Nepal, except for perhaps the classier ones, tended to not provide any breakfast.

So, as is apparent, I've elected to cycle to Delhi rather than up north to Pithoragarh & Almora & to then bus or train from there to Delhi as had been suggested earlier. My reasoning was largely that I wanted to see Nepal & Delhi & I rather like the idea of the completeness of cycling all the way. A bit of hard core cyclist's reasoning I guess.

Day 15 cycling: Bareilly to Moradabad
DST= 96.03km; RTM = 6hrs 32 min; AVS = 14.6km/hr; MAX = ?
ODO =1190 km
Ahh! Nothing beats an early Sunday morning ride under the gum trees, I thought, as I headed out of town - easier than I'd thought; I really didn't have a clue where I was when I ended up at the JK Hotel, but it was a reasonably straightforward ride out to the main road to Rampur, after being given directions by people at the hotel. Mind you, things are NEVER straightforward when cycling in India - you'll be given instructions to cycle straight ahead, all the way to wherever you want to get to, only to invariably find yourself at an unmarked T-intersection. Sometimes I'll take a punt, based on the compass, and sometimes I'll ask. Usually someone will know, and so you find yourself negotiating your way across or out of town in fits & starts. Overall, it was a hard stretch of road to cycle, except toward the end where it became a divided highway, elevated from the surroundings, and with a nice cycling surface.

Surprising how many animal carcasses there are on the road - dead cattle, dogs, a cat, some racoon-like critters ... often being devoured by dogs or pecked at by crows. Enough to convert you to vegetarianism.
The roads in India are tough to cycle, tougher than Nepal, and you're given little or no quarter by the bus & truck drivers (although you'll sometimes get the positive thumbs up from truck drivers if they see you've cycled up a difficult hill or if they've seen you before on the road). I've referred before to the main hazard being from oncoming traffic, which, if it spots a break in the traffic, will swarm out all over the road, filling up both lanes in a mass attempt to overtake each other and pushing you off the road (that is, if you care to not join the aforementioned roadkill). So a concerning sight is if you see a slightly slow vehicle (eg a slow truck, or a horse & cart, or bullock & cart) coming towards you with a convoy of other vehicles banked up behind, all itching to pass - you know that within seconds of there being a gap in the traffic headed toward them there'll be a mass breakout, at which point you have to be prepared to hit the dirt at the side of the road (hoping of course that there is a space at the side). Often cars will be zooming past with only inches to spare, almost brushing the bike in their frenzied dash for liberation.

Some while later, I encountered a major road blockage, caused, in a sweet irony, by a gum tree that had fallen across the road. Traffic was banked up in both directions for maybe a kilometre and I quietly pedalled past scores of the cars, trucks & buses that had hurtled past me an hour or so earlier. A team of men with axes & handsaws were working valiantly to clear the road, and I was able to sneak through a small gap they'd created. But the mindlessness of the traffic - impatient drivers, not content to wait in line, were rushing ahead in the other lane hoping perhaps to get to the front, and in so doing were thus blocking both sides of the road, in both directions, from the site of the blockage. The resulting chaos when the tree was finally removed would've been an ignoble spectacle. As I pedalled off, enjoying the freedom from traffic behind me for a time, I realised with horror that a likely tsunami of traffic would soon follow when the tree had been finally removed.

I eventually made it to Moradabad, my goal for the day. Now to find somewhere to stay ... I stopped to ask a couple of likely looking chaps, and before long a crowd of 20, maybe 30, had gathered around me! Hotel Raj Mahal seemed to be the consensus, and some rather complicated directions were given & a map drawn for me. Needless to say, it wasn't too long before I again had no clue where I was. However, at the instigation of someone who spoke a little English, a bicycle rickshaw man was hired to lead me there. Next door to the Raj Mahal, which was a little more expensive than I preferred to pay, was the Hotel New Castle, which had a room for 500 INR - a good deal more comfortable than anywhere I'd stayed at since KTM. They were hosting a wedding reception there that night, which I figured was a bad omen, but in the event, the repetitious drumbeat music, which lasted all night, was curiously relaxing. The place looked like a disaster zone in morning, with all sorts of food & other detritus outside my room when I opened the door, leading me to feel some concern about how the kitchen might be looking & whether or not to brave breakfast. It wasn't too bad though.
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There's this odd phenomenon I've noticed while cycling in India: you'll often hear "Hey!" being yelled out - in an insistent, authoritarian tone. It'll either be a farmer, yelling instructions to his bullock, or some bloke, usually sitting in a plastic chair, waving, and who, on seeing you cycle past is expecting that you'll suddenly stop cycling & immediately head over to him. Rarely will they stir from their chair, even if you do stop & look in their direction.
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I've been thinking I really should learn some Hindi words, such as "hotel" or "guest house?", "which way to ...", and perhaps even "Delhi"!

Day 16 cycling: Moradabad to Ghaziabad
DST= 136.11km; RTM = 8hrs 17 min; AVS = 16.3km/hr; MAX = 38.5km/hr; cadence = 67rpm
ODO = 1358km

At first, the road out of Moradabad was looking good - a divided highway (so much safer, as there's (generally) no oncoming traffic). I'd stocked up with 2 litres of water, an orange, 600ml of Pepsi & some chocolate biscuits for the journey, anticipating that the divided highway might continue & that maybe it'd be hard to buy stuff on the way. I was dreaming of course, and the road alternated between divided highway, partially completed divided highway & yet-to-be constructed divided highway - the plan seems to be to eventually make Highway 24 a divided highway into Delhi. Often though I was able to cycle in the unopened sections of the partially completed divided highway, which was quite nice. Again, another massive traffic jam was encountered, this time due to a diversion & a vehicle breakdown. Again, a deal of smugness & schaudenfreude on my part as I squeezed through the blockage.

I'm not quite sure what possessed me to cycle so far today - I think the idea was to get as close to Delhi as possible today so I'd have just a short distance to cycle into Delhi the next day. I figured that it might take me quite some time to do this, having only the LP map to guide me, and factoring in my experience of becoming hopelessly lost & disoriented in relatively small towns. I thought maybe Hapur, about 54km from Delhi, might be the go, but as I reached there no obvious accommodation revealed itself to me so I plugged on, and on. It started to become quite dark, and if you think cycling in India during the daylight is tough, it's insane in the dark. So here I am in Ghaziabad, in the pitch dark, not having the faintest idea of the layout of the town or where accommodation might be found. Eventually, after stopping & asking a couple of blokes, one of whom had some English, I was given directions to the Hotel Mela Plaza, which, happily was where he said it would be. Not so happily did I receive the news that it was a 3 star hotel & they wanted nearly $100 USD for a room. Some haggling brought this down to $60 USD (and I was really in no position to argue much, having no other options up my sleeve ... and it was very dark outside.) It was certainly over-rated as 3 star, and even the $60 was excessive ... but it was cosy, and fantastic to have hot water that was actually HOT, toilet paper, 2 sheets on the bed & both of them clean (I don't think I've encountered this on this trip until now) ....

Day 17 cycling: Ghaziabad to DELHI = 30.74km; RTM = 2hrs 10 min; AVS = 14.0km/hr; MAX = 32.7km/hr
ODO (i.e overall odometer reading) = 1389km

After a leisurely start to the day, including a non-complimentary breakfast in the hotel restaurant (although what was the story with the powdered coffee out of a sachet that the waiter somewhat ostentatiously opened & slowly poured into my cup, followed by the powdered dairy creamer - that's not 3 star, surely?) And there was no bacon as per the American breakfast I'd ordered ... and HEY! I've just remembered ... whatever happened to the cornflakes that were meant to be part of the deal?

It was nice to know I only had a relatively short distance to cycle today as I headed off into the smog ... again, the road occasionally branched into two & it was often a guess, corroborated by the occasional motorcyclist I questioned, that kept me on the right track. I had a vague route in my mind I'd that I'd mapped out during a chat with the helpful Harvinder ("Harry") Singh I'd met at Bardia. This was derailled after being given some bum directions by a couple of blokes standing on a corner, but luckily I had a more complicated route B also mapped out, and so eventually I got to the Paharganj area where all the tourists hang out (because it's near New Delhi Railway Station & also pretty central to all the tourist attractions. ). I've decided to stay midrange rather than budget, as I've stayed at enough budget & below-budget places this trip. My first choice - Hotel Grand Godwin - gulp, was booked out, but I managed to find a room at the Hotel Ajanta, a relatively flash joint down the road in Arakashan Road, Ram Nagar. They tell me however that I can only have it for 2 nights as they're then all booked out. Ouch, I didn't figure things'd be this busy. It's about 1420 INR a night, plus tax - about half the price of the reduced price at Mela Plaza, and a lot better feel to it.

I've not ventured outside at all since arriving, as I reckon I've seen enough of the outdoors here to last me for a time. Lunch and then some internetting I reckoned was the thing to do, and so had a large thali, a Limca & a Merinda, and a coffee.

You've gotta love this place though (otherwise you'd go insane) ... the hotel has internet access, but to use it I had to fill out a ledger with all sorts of personal details (eg Full name, Date, Address in Australia, Address in India, Purpose in India, Time started, etc, etc ... again, more detailed than I needed to actually get into the country), and after I'd been online for a bit another attendant entered the room and WANTED TO CHECK MY PASSPORT DETAILS!
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After about 3 or 4 weeks here, I reckon I've just begun to acclimatise to the sub-continent - it always takes some time to get used to ... the roads, food, hygiene, noise, the way people go about doing things ... & .... the INCESSANT FUCKING DRILLING & HAMMERING that seems to be going on in every hotel you ever stay at ... what ARE they doing? ... OK, maybe I still haven't quite ...
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MAHENDRANAGAR

I've written "... words to come ..." onto my laptop & thence USB but can no longer access the f**** thing on other computers so ... you'll just have to wait for these pearls. I'm now at the border between India & Nepal & likely to head into India tomorrow... probably cycling straight to Delhi rather than an earlier suggestion of possibly heading north to Almora etc. I don't actually have a map of India or much of a clue how far it is but I don't suppose this should be a problem ... I'm fit & well, although a bit worn, as I feel a tad over-cycled ...

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Day 10 cycling: Lamahi to KOHALPUR
DST = 111.12km; RTM = 6hrs 24 min; AVS = 17.3km/hr; MAX = 45.6km/hr
ODO (i.e overall odometer reading) = 748km

The Mahendra highway is pretty good but in parts is a quite stony bitumen with high resistance making the cycling seem much harder at times than it should. Sometimes you even have to pedal hard downhill, as the bike won't easily roll on this stuff. In fact, it sometimes seems I'm in one of those anomalous gravitational areas you hear of, where cars allegedly roll uphill. Here, some roads seem to be going uphill, but you find yourself rolling along without need for pedalling; others seem downhill but stop pedalling and you rapidly come to a halt. Spooky!

I'm not sure about the Nelles map of Nepal that I'm using, given the almost consistent discrepancy in the English names given to towns. On the map, so-called Bhaluwang is written everywhere on roads signs and in the town itself as Bhalubang. So with Kusum which is written as Kusuri on the map. It's as if a bespectacled German cartographer has whizzed through towns on a bus with dirty windows quickly scribbling down the English name as the bus hurtles along.

The road here mostly passes through rural & forested areas - not much traffic, but plenty of cattle, goats, sheep, and even monkeys. I ended up cycling the 111km to Kohalpur but would've preferred not to. I had thought of doing this stretch in 2 stages, stopping at Kusum, but I could see nothing there other than a few huts - it hardly deserves its dot on the map, compared to many other obviously bigger places that don't feature at all (I later discovered that staying at Kusum was possible .... ). A Dutch motorcyclist stopped for a chat when he saw I was "European" - he was travelling overland from Holland to Bhutan in 5 weeks & seemed quite keen to talk. He explained that he'd been escorted through Pakistan for 15 hours by the police who were concerned he might be kidnapped.

I stopped at pretty much the first guest house you come across as you enter Kohalpur - the DHAULAGIRI Hotel & Lodge - after the owner, seeing me hesitate out the front, offered me a room - basic & a bit smelly but cheap at 200NRP. I figured that I'd probably light a mossie coil - not so much for the mossies as for the pong. However this would rate as one of the worst places I've ever stayed at. The room he showed me was very dark, and when I commented on this he changed the light globe for me by swapping it with the one in the restaurant, and then kindly gave me the towel from the restaurant when I asked if he had one. It appeared later that it was some sort of an all-night bar & truck stop. My room was out the back, right opposite the toilet, which was in use ALL night by patrons & family members, & you could hear everything. A rat scuttled by as I was waiting for my food, and there were cockroaches in my room (as well as a million mossies, but that's par for the course - I give profound thanks to the makers of RID). The family's young kids also seemed to be up all night, making the sorts of racket that young kids make. At 4am, a truck-driver out the front of the place began either testing or showing off his horn - blaring & trumpeting out some ghastly mobile-phone-like tune, over & over & over again.Get me out of here! However, they did make surprisingly good coffee. I did give the owner some feedback in the morning but I suspect it was pointless really. .

Day 11 cycling: KOHALPUR to Thakurdwara (Bardia National Park)
DST = 74.59km; RTM = 4hrs 38 min; AVS = 16.0km/hr; MAX = 31.8km/hr
ODO (i.e overall odometer reading) = 822km

My plan today was to cycle into the (Royal) Bardia National Park - I'm assuming that none of its estimated "22 Royal Bengal tigers & 100 one-horned rhinos" frequent the road in ... The ride out of Kohalpur was pleasant - good flat road surface, little traffic - and I hit a nice steady 20km/hr pace. The road went across numerous bridges over streams & rivers, most of which were largely dry and also passed a number of both military & armed police checkpoints & bases. It was a bone-jarring, buttock-battering 13 km ride on the rocky dirt road from Ambassa, on the main highway, into the town of Thakurdwara, where the actual entry to Bardia & most of the accommodation is. For the first 8km or so, it was all part of the charm of the place - for the last 6km, it was "why don't they fix the fuckin' road".... I chose to stay at the Bardia Jungle Cottage (although they did have more than one.) Again, pretty basic accommodation, but in the local Tharu style - grass-rooved huts with mud-coated walls. While there, I went on a day-long jungle walk with guide (cheap at 650 NPR, plus 500 NPR admission to the park)- we saw deer, monkeys, 2 adult rhino & one baby, dolphin (in the river) and plenty of wild elephant & tiger tracks. The next day, before leaving, I went on an elephant ride into the park. This was relatively expensive (1100 NPR for the ride plus 500 NPR admission to the park) & actually not all that interesting after the initial delight of getting so close to such a behemoth & watching the 2 baby elephants that followed along, especially because it largely retraced some of where I'd walked the day before.

I do wonder if some of the folk you come across here are at times overly literal or perhaps obtusely aggressive in reponse to westerners. I asked the owner if I could get some of my clothes washed before I headed off the next day. He assured me this could be done .... the next morning when I retrieved them they were still wet, and the day had been perfect clothes-drying weather - should I have also requested that they be dried? And today (in Mahendranagar), I was sitting in my room doing stuff on the laptop when one of the hotel workers flung the unlocked room door open & marched in to write down some numbers from the back of the TV set. He apologised profusely when I expostulated, but I'm not sure he grasped what my issue was ...

Day 12 cycling: Thakurdwara (Bardia National Park) to LAMKI
DST = 44.24km; RTM = 3hrs 3 min; AVS = 14.5km/hr; MAX = 33.7km/hr
ODO (i.e overall odometer reading) = 866km

I was advised that accommodation was to be found at Lamki (not on my Nelles map), about 45 km away, which seemed a nice distance to cycle after a few days rest from cycling. I again endured the 13km ride back to Ambassa, and from there headed to Lamki. On the right hand side and at times directly ahead was a mountain range (the Churia Range, according to the map) but it was shrouded in smoke/mist so the mountains could barely be seen. Deer & monkeys were seen alongside the road (they often hang out together, apparently) but would bolt when seen, and yet another Army checkpoint was encountered just before Chisopani. Overall, an easy & pleasant ride to Lamki, and apprently it's a further 73km to Ataria where there's also accommodation.
There's some sort of organised demonstration heading into town as I arrive - hundreds & hundreds of people filing in, two abreast; first a contingent of women, then women wheeling bicycles, then men, then men wheeling bicycles ... I cycled past with no trouble. I assume it's about unhappiness at the new Marxist government & its inaction on certain matters.

I check into a guest house - the owner wants 150 NPR for the room, the cheapest yet. When I see the room, it's apparent why so cheap. A dingy, squalid room - what I imagine a Mexican police cell might look like (no offence meant to Mexicans here, it's just that I've been reading Greene's The Power & the Glory). The bed felt like sleeping on a pool table or a door, and the loo & washing area defy my description. However, due to my late start today (elephant ride), it seemed sensible to stop here. BUT the daal baht was excellent here: I had it hot off the stove; piping hot rice, lentils, spinach, veg, a papadam, with a cup of delicious hot sweet black tea - very tasty, and plenty of refills. After this, I watched an 1967 episode of "The Champions" on the laptop. What a treat (quite amusing also: it was set in Australia, but the actor playing the outback aussie used an American accent throughout). After the sun went down, the whole town became quiet - hardly any dogs or vehicles, and I had an OK night's sleep.

Day 13 cycling: Lamki to MAHENDRANAGAR
DST = 106.9km; RTM = 6hrs 24 min; AVS = 16.6km/hr; MAX = 29.0km/hr
ODO (i.e overall odometer reading) = 973km

For some time now, there have been no road signs in English & even the towns remain nameless to me. All I really have to guide me is my Nelles map & what people tell me. My plan was to head for Ataria & spend the night there before pressing on to Mahendranagar & thence the border - a further 16km away. People's estimates in & around Lamki ranged from 45 to 73km to Ataria, although it did seem further on my Nelles map. Road signs were little help but gradually I figured out that something's seriously wrong with the map, which indicates that it's 202km between Chisopani & Mahendranagar. As it turns out, the actual distance is about 122km (!) & so I arrive at Mahendranagar after quite a long day's ride (107km) but without needing to stop at Ataria. Mahendranagar, although being quite near to the border, is a surprisingly pleasant & relaxed place and not at all like the dusty & chaotic border town I'd expected (well, that's partly true - there're a hell of a lot trucks & buses & associated horn-tooting going on). I've gone to the bank & changed all my NPR to INR at no cost (it's a direct 1.6 swap), done some internetting now that the power is back on (yesterday after I arrived a power line was being repaired, resulting in no electricity for some time - people were up ladders & trees trying to sort the problem out) & then had lunch - delicious veg fried rice, a Pepsi & a coffee - at the "Vegetarian Restaurant & Sweet House" at the Hotel Gangotri Plaza while watching half a dozen blokes remove an electricity pole by hand, using a few ropes & a crowbar. There seemed to be worryingly few safety precautions, but the job got done after a time. Back here where I'm staying - at the Hotel Sweet Dream, which isn't particularly - they're painting the outside of the building. It's 3 stories high, so the painter is standing on a wooden ladder that's almost vertical, and which is in turn standing on a large wooden cabinet.