David & his bike go to India

... off to France (Tour de France)

2011-07-02T21:22:00.000-07:00

... not exactly relevant to this blog, but I'm off to France on 13th July to watch the last nine or so days of the Tour de France and do some cycling. This time I'm going with a few other folk, including my brother & a work colleague, as part of a small tour group. Should be fantastic!! I won't take my own bike this time but will hire one there. And after the Tour, I'm doing an eight day bike ride between Strasbourg & Basel!

India map

2010-04-07T04:51:00.000-07:00

Here's a map showing all my cycling trips in India: Chennai to Goa in 2000; Mumbai to Khumbalgarh in 2005; Kathmandu to New Delhi in 2008 & Puri to Darjeeling in 2010.

Photos

2010-03-19T18:48:00.000-07:00

A slideshow of selected photos from this trip can be viewed here.

Melbourne - 9.3.10

2010-03-08T20:19:00.000-08:00

Arrived back in Melbourne last night (thanks Di & Al for the pick-up!) about 10pm after a fairly uneventful flight back from Kolkata - watched heaps of movies, ate a lot of aeroplane food & occasionally lapsed into sleep. Again, plenty of room - the two adjacent seat were also free, leaving space to lie down & stretch out. I'm feeling a little out of whack, time-wise, with the 5.5 hour time difference, so it'll be interesting to see how I am tomorrow when I return to work.

The Broadway Hotel - a budget level place - in Kolkata was a good choice (although the enormous resident cockroach in my bathroom & the swarm of marauding ants that attacked a biscuit I'd left on the bed did take the edge off it a little). It was a kilometre & a half north of the Sudder St/ western tourist area but very near the Chandni Chowk metro station, making it pretty easy to get around. The hotel was built in 1937, and the rooms are mostly quite large with high ceilings. According to a Canadian who's been staying there for the past 40 years, on & off, the only changes he's seen in that time have been some rewiring & TV sets added to the rooms. The downstairs bar & restaurant area is very ... atmospheric; it's dark, with shuttered windows & dozens of ceiling fans - probably even "art deco", as the hotel's own website describes it. At night, it's filled with scores of men sitting around drinking; a few are also eating - the food there is surprisingly good - clean, fresh & tasty. There were quite a few single blokes sitting at tables, staring into space & looking morose (I did wonder for a second whether this was a projection of mine, but I don't think so as I was feeling quite chipper. Good food & accommodation will do this for me).

Broadway Hotel

Broadway Hotel - bar & restaurant

Down the road was Anand, an excellent vegetarian restaurant, mainly frequented by Indian families, that makes pretty good masala dosa. I also indulged in a strawberry milkshake, butterscotch ice-cream & paneer pizza on my visit(s) there.
Just across the road from the hotel, on the corner of the busy intersection, two families, comprising of at least five young children & baby, were living. At different times of the day you could see them bathing, cooking food, sleeping, kids playing ...

The flight out was at 1:55am so I arranged a car to the airport at 9pm, leaving me with plenty of time to check in & deal with any unforeseen problems that having a bicycle might present. I organised a lad to wash the bike for Rs30, then put some cardboard around the dérailleurs, removed the pedals & it was ready to go. Temporarily removing the front wheel made it a little easier to cram it into the back seat of the Ambassador that was taking me to the airport. At the airport I did the customary but purposeless exercise of letting the air out of the tyres & turned the handlebars around, attaching them to the top tube of the bike. Luckily, airport staff (other than the policeman who told me I couldn't take my bicycle into the airport terminal!) were quite bemused by the fact that I was travelling with a bicycle & were exceedingly helpful. The fellow whose job it was to wheel the bike away after check-in made some joke about what a great bike it was & how he'd like to take it home ... I feigned alarm at this & so he went to great lengths to reassure me by accompanying me at a distance as I went through customs, pointing at the bike periodically to indicate that he was taking it to the appropriate place & not pinching it.
I had the sense that I'd finally, after 5 weeks, become acclimatised to & at ease with being in India - shame that I was at the end of the trip! No doubt about it, India's a tough place to travel through, and some of the cycling has been hard work. At times it's exasperating, infuriating, and of course highly dangerous on the roads. It taps into all sorts of emotions, some of which you might be surprised to see arise - disgust, rage, irritability, fear, sadness, powerlessness, hatred, aggression, apprehension, alarm ... Thankfully, at other times you might experience delight, awe, amusement, surprise, enjoyment, astonishment, relief ... In a sense you're on the line - it tests your view of the world & how things should be, and your view of yourself - things you take for granted, or your expectations or 'rules' e.g. about courtesy, hygiene, service, fairness, reasonableness, common-sense, personal space, care of the environment, etc. are out the window, and you are left to deal with your own reactions about these things. And some of these reactions can be a surprise - "... oh, I thought I was a little more well-adjusted than that!" The variety, challenge, eccentricity, rawness, unpredictability, non-PCness of the place are what draw me there (in addition to the various & wondrous tourist attractions of India & the pleasures of cycling). As I've said before, I both love & hate India.

Kolkata - Sat 6.3.10

2010-03-05T23:33:00.000-08:00

Day 17 cycling: Darjeeling - Siliguri
DST = 76km; RTM = 4hrs 21m; ODO = 1180km; AVS = 17.4km/hr; cadence = 78; MAX = 42.7 km/hr

Day 18: train from Siliguri (NJP train station) - Kolkata

Back in Calcutta, this time staying at the Broadway Hotel, a big old hotel on Ganesh Chandra Avenue in the BBD Bagh area which contains much of the colonial architecture in Calcutta. The room is enormous & has no hot water but buckets of it can be supplied on request. The downstairs restaurant also doubles as a bar apparently, but the breakfast they turned out this morning after my arrival was surprisingly excellent. I wandered down to this nearby internet cafe to discover that I needed to have brought my passport with me to register. Upon my return, I was subjected to a complicated procedure, presumably to deter or detect terrorism. After giving my name, address & other details, I had to have my thumb scanned several times, my photo taken & a copy of my passport made ...

It was a beautifully sunny morning when I left Darjeeling yesterday morning after a satisfying breakfast at a place called Glenary's, and the views of the nearby mountains were the best I'd seen since arriving there (but still not terrific - the heavy background haze still persisted). The first 7km to Ghum was all uphill - at which point I encountered a massive, kilometres long traffic jam in both directions due to a broken down truck. The roads are so narrow that it was with great difficulty that I managed to squeeze through. A 70km downhill ride all the way to Siliguri followed! My wrists were sore from using the brakes so much. What detracted from the delight of such a fantastic downhill run was the extremely poor condition of the roads, the number of reasonably tight curves, many spots where the train tracks crossed the road, and of course the traffic, although this wasn't very heavy - just sporadic bursts of small convoys of vehicles. The narrowness of the road often precluded both my bike & trucks occupying it at the same time. The dodgy pannier was also providing some concern given the bumpiness of the road, and towards the end one of the supporting hooks came apart again. I hadn't quite noticed on the way up how bad the road was, as I'd been travelling relatively slowly. You can see from the average speed of 17.4km/hr that it wasn't all that quick a ride overall, but the max speed of 42.7km/hr indicates I could go fast at times.

There was another massive traffic jam at Kurseong, and this time it was quite some a while before I could squeeze through. I heard the toot of the Toy train ahead & it was quite amusing to be able to catch up & overtake it. Overall, a pretty good ride, and the road picked up a little after the first 40km.
I planned to have a brief interlude at the Hotel Swastik Regency in Siliguri so I could freshen up, change clothes, check my bike in & have something to eat prior to the train's departure that evening. This was a bit of a miscalculation as I'd thought that NJP station was much closer to Siliguri than it turned out to be. It took me forever to cycle there, check the bike onto the train (not a straightforward task: I had to find the right office, fill in a large & complicated form & get the bike seat wrapped in hessian! Luckily there was man on hand to do this for Rs50. Phew!), get back to the hotel by rickshaw to do what I'd planned, then return to NJP an hour or so later to get the train. The train trip itself was relatively straightforward and so was collecting the bike at the end, once I'd found the correct office. The sight of the bicycle being wheeled into the shed I was waiting in was very pleasing, I can tell you. There were a few minor problems eg chain tangled up, back brake pad scraping) but otherwise AOK. I saved myself the hassle of cycling & got a taxi (later, I figured out that it probably wasn't actually a taxi) to the hotel. At first, there were no rooms available - I rarely book anything in advance - but the manager then proposed putting me in the family room until something did, which happened about an hour later.
So, I guess I'll hang out here for the next 36 hours before heading back home. The bike & I made it!
.

Darjeeling - Thursday 4.3.20

2010-03-04T06:05:00.000-08:00

I returned to Windamere Hotel for their 'high tea' (Rs375) yesterday; this comprised one scone with jam & cream (the ubiquitous red coloured jam - possibly strawberry - you get everywhere in India... although once I was given green coloured jam), then a glass pot of tea with milk & sugar accompanied by a small basket containing: 3 triangular peanut butter (!?) sandwiches, 3 circular cucumber sandwiches, 4 shortbread biscuits & a chunk of marbled chocolate/vanilla cake. The slightly tragic aspect to all this was that I was the only guest there that day. Today however I went with two folk I've met here to the Elgin Hotel, another 'top end' heritage hotel - but without the reputation that Windamere has. This was much classier - the room seemed a lot fresher & classier, and the 'high tea' was overall, of better quality & quantity for the same price (although no cream with their scone ... and the same red jam). In addition to the cakes & sandwiches we were given a plate of pakora, and found it hard to finish it all. Also visited the Bengal Natural History Museum, a terribly old-fashioned place with cabinets of bugs pinned to the walls, jars of snakes & fish, and a moth-eaten collection of stuffed birds, tigers, leopards & other creatures possibly found in this part of the world. Sometimes these sorts of museums have a perverse charm but this was pretty ordinary. I spent a few hours wandering around town today with Fran while Adam, who conducts his business via the net while travelling, spent a few hours working online. We checked out a couple of temples, Observatory Hill & the Tibetan Refugee Self Help Centre. Unfortunately the zoo was closed today - according to the guide book it's one of the best in India. It's been good to take it easy & wind down before my final ride tomorrow - back to Siliguri & the nearby New Jalpaiguri (NJP) train station for the overnight trip back to Calcutta.

The road to Darjeeling

Make way for the Darjeeling express!

High tea at the Elgin Hotel

Darjeeling - Wednesday 3.3.10

2010-03-04T05:35:00.000-08:00

The Dekeling Hotel is cosy enough, if you don't mind sleeping on a bed that feels little softer than if you were sleeping on the floor. A nice touch was finding that a hot water bottle had been put in the bed in the evening. The hotel has a common area with a wood-burning heater in the middle where you can hang out, read, & order pots of tea. The hotel is up several flights of stairs - I counted 70 steps to get to reception - and as there's really nowhere to store the bike safely outside during the night, I had to lug the bike upstairs (with a hotel employee helping out) to store in my room. It was such an effort that I think it'll have to stay there until I leave i.e. I'll walk rather than cycle around town. I should note also that the usual renovations are going on here - plenty of hammering & grinding started bright & early this morning. I had contemplated staying one night at the renowned Windamere Hotel but a visit there this morning left me feeling I mightn't enjoy it all that much - it's very much decked out in a British colonial style. It's relatively expensive - Rs6650 for a Standard room, single, and Rs7750 for a Superior room (plus sales tax, service charge etc.). The price does include all meals. However, I might try out their 'high tea' later.
One of the books that I had on my eBook reader was J.M Coetzee's book 'Slow Man' which I elected to start reading yesterday. It unfortunately & somewhat uncomfortably begins with an older fellow on a bicycle being hit by a car & having his leg amputated above the knee ...

Darjeeling - Tuesday 2.3.10

2010-03-02T05:24:00.000-08:00

Day 15 cycling: Siliguri - Kurseong [bike computer malfunction!]
DST = approx. 46km; RTM = approx. 4hrs; ODO = 1071km; AVS = 11km/hr; cadence = 73

Day 16 cycling: Kurseong - Darjeeling
DST = approx. 33km; ODO = 1104km

Made it to Darjeeling early this afternoon & have taken a room at Dekeling Hotel - a deluxe room (Rs1360). I decided to take a chance with the Holi celebrations & headed off bright & early (well, for me, 8am is an early start). There were a few very powder-spattered, very pissed looking blokes around but otherwise everything was very quiet. I passed the nearby Hotel Conclave where the night before they'd refused to accept my Rs500 note, claiming it was a fake. I'd then gone to the ATM to use my credit card for the first time to withdraw money. It took three goes before money came out; I'll be interested to see how my account looks & whether the first two unsuccessful attempts actually did result in money leaving my account. Curiously, one of the Rs500 notes that came out was identical to the rejected note. So, I'm not persuaded it was dodgy.
No mountains were evident ahead as I pedalled towards Darjeeling - the smog or haze obscured much of what lay ahead. It was a lovely ride - the road was flat at first but then began to rise to a slope that was fairly constant all the way to Kurseong, my planned overnight stop about 45km away. The roads were quiet, & alongside & sometimes crossing the road, were the tracks of the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway. Annoyingly, my bike computer failed - battery I think - at the 29km mark. As I ascended, it became colder, the clouds darker and the roads rougher. The people became friendlier it seemed, especially the occasional truck or van driver, but for some reason the dogs became less friendly. Carrying a big stone & then showing it to barking dogs usually scares them away. Everywhere were flags & signs saying "We Want Ghorkaland" and everywhere road safety barriers, buildings & even huge boulders carried words & showed maps of what was wanted & were painted in the Ghorkaland colours of green, white & yellow. Basically, local Nepali speaking Ghorkas (also spelled Ghurka) want a separate state for themselves. At one point, the small diesel train withs everal carriages went tootling by. Very cute. It was an excellent ride, although hard work, and at times I wondered if my own battery might fail ... Siliguri is at an elevation of 119m; Kurseong is at 1458m, so I ascended some 1339 metres over the 45km. I checked into Cochrane Place at Kurseong, into a deluxe room (Rs2250). I figured some (relative) luxury was earned after 4 hours of steadily riding uphill. It was a slightly quirky place, full of oddities, antiques & general bric-à-brac & a good range of various teas. For afternoon tea, along with some vegetable pakora, I had a cup of Kanchanjunga tea (Rs45) "darjeeling blend spices, cocoa & mint". Rather tasty. It was a cosy place, with a sitting room & a few eating areas, and 360' views - unfortunately it was very foggy outside. At 9:30pm the rain started to beat down, leaving the roads - and train tracks - quite wet & slippery for the next day.
As I left Kurseong this morning, it was very foggy & cool, but it started to warm up a little & cycling in shorts was still quite OK. The weather was quite labile however - from cloudy to sunny to dark. The road was fairly bumpy & the traffic quite a lot heavier than yesterday, suggesting that people were observing Holi & not doing much driving, but it didn't seem quite as steep as yesterday. Cycling ever on up did begin to lose a little of the charm of the previous day. A burst boil on the left buttock didn't help much either. I reached Ghoom (Ghum) and found to my surprise it was downhill to Darjeeling from there. Ghoom, the highest point of the ride, is at an altitude of 2226m, and Darjeeling is at about 2050m. I've checked in to a cosy 'deluxe' room the Dekeling Hotel (Rs1360), a "pick" in the guide book, with "possibly the best views in town". The view out my window is indeed pretty stunning. Darjeeling was quite confusing at first but I eventually found my way to the hotel after buying a train ticket at the railway station for my return journey from Siliguri to Calcutta on Friday night. The ride back down the hill to Siliguri on Friday should be fun (although the bumpy bits will take the edge off it).

Ghoom (Ghum) railway station

Siliguri - Sunday 28.2.10

2010-02-28T01:08:00.000-08:00

Day 10 cycling: Bolpur/ Shantiniketan - Berhampore
DST = 112km; RTM = 6hrs 29m; ODO = 837km; AVS = 17.1km/hr; cadence = 76; MAX =27 km/hr

Day 11 cycling: Berhampore - Lalbag/Hazarduari
DST = 15.6km; RTM = 1hrs 1m; ODO = 853km; AVS = 15.1km/hr; cadence = 70; MAX =27 km/hr

Day 12 cycling: Lalbag/Hazarduari - Farakka
DST = 98km; RTM = 5hrs 52m; ODO = 951km; AVS = 16.6km/hr; cadence = 69; MAX =81.2 km/hr (hmm... maybe an error)

Day 13 cycling: (a) Farakka - Malda
DST = 34.5km; RTM = 2hrs 3m; ODO = 986km; AVS = 16.5km/hr; cadence = 66; MAX =24 km/hr

(b) Malda - GAUR - Malda
DST = 39km; RTM = 2hrs 54m; ODO = 1025km; AVS = 13.5km/hr; cadence = 61; MAX =23.2 km/hr

Day 14: BUS from Malda to Siliguri ...

I'm now in Siliguri, having done some arithmetic & figuring out that I'd never make it to Darjeeling with the time I had left. I did consider hanging around Hazarduari & Malda a bit longer as there were interesting sights that I didn't get to see at both places, but then I thought I'd go for it, catch a bus & hopefully get back to Calcutta in time. It's building up to Holi, where people throw coloured water & coloured powder over each other & presumably over stray tourists. I don't relish the prospect given my limited repertoire of clothing. The six hour bus trip (cost for me & bike: Rs240) here was fine - I prefer it to the train as I know where the bike is (on the roof), although it's a lot less comfortable. I was lucky, as I got to the bus depot at 5am & got the front single seat, not that it mattered all that much as, surprisingly, it wasn't overly crowded. I felt like a bit of a turncoat, quisling, heretic ... whatever, travelling on a bus, given that they're such mongrels when you're on your bicycle & in their way.(Uh oh! .. there's powder flying around outside this cafe - no water thankfully)

I've been out of internet contact for several days; in Malda, the story was "no connectivity" when I enquired at the local internet place.

So, I left Shantiniketan for Berhampore on Wednesday morning. Finding the road out of town to Kirnahar was surprisingly easy, given the total lack of roadsigns (I didn't see one until the 74km mark) & my lack of a decent road map [memo to me: get a state road map next time]. The help of locals, as well as some of Bill Weir's notes, were pretty good though. The road was quite good for the first 50km or so, having been resurfaced in many places, and was nicely shaded at times by judiciously planted trees. There seemed to be kids hanging about everywhere, as has been the case through most of the trip. It's possible they're on holidays but I think it more likely that they just don't go to school. If you should happen to cycle this way, bring plenty of water as it's not easy to procure on the way - no Coke or Pepsi stops unfortunately. I took a wrong turning at the end (I went north instead of south) but eventually ended up at the Hotel Samrat after doing about 10km more than was necessary. The attached restaurant was quite good, although extremely dim as you sometimes find in India - to stop too close an examination of the food perhaps? The hotel itself however seemed a long way from the guide book's glowing comments of "excellent value ... fresh brightly painted rooms ... helpful staff ...". It was OK.
From Berhampore I headed toward Lalbag & Harzaduari - a short 16km ride. Unfortunately, Hotel Manjusha, where I'd hoped to stay, was full-up with several busloads of Indian tourists. I cycled back a little & found the Sri Durga Lodge. It wasn't very promising at first - no-one else was staying there, and it didn't seem anyone had for a while - they seemed surprised to have a guest. There was no ceiling fan but the supplied electric mossie repeller did the trick. The owner spoke with a very loud & clear voice, as though I was a bit of a simpleton; I later discovered he was a primary school teacher. He was a nice guy, and introduced his 22 year-old son to me, explaining, when I told him I was a psychologist (he asked), that his son was "crazy", making the universal symbol of this - circular movements of his figure next to his head - and telling me that he slept poorly & ate little. Later, while taking a farewell cup of tea with the family, his mother looked askance at her son & made the same circular motion to indicate she also thought he was crazy. Poor kid.
I ate my meals a kilometer or so away at the Hotel Indrajit, near the railway station. I really liked Hazarduari - one of the most pleasant towns I've stopped in to date. It was low key, relaxed, not very crowded at all. And the sights - including the impressive Hazarduari palace/museum, the Great Imambara, the new palace, and a number of other interesting buildings dotted around the countryside - were worth seeing. No westerners were to be seen but there were quite a few Indian tourists in town.

On Friday, after a good breakfast at Hotel Indrajit I headed off into the unknown, through the town of Jianganj, Lalgola & eventually highway 11 to Jangipur. I've noticed that my patience starts to wear thin after about 80km; what was charming in the morning (eg motorcyclists slowing down to my pace to peer & then have a chat) often feels very annoying by the afternoon. As always, India tests one's equanimity - the challenge is to maintain it [memo to self: keep cool Dave].
I've become quite interested in how different areas process their cow shit. They're often shaped into discs, which can vary from being the size of dinner plates to the size (and appearance) of Anzac biscuits. Around here, I've noticed that they're attached to sticks - like huge shish kebabs (or shit kebabs I suppose).
And so to the collision with a motorcyclist at Lalgola: he sped out from the left hand side of the road to cross it & head in the direction opposite to me. There was some hesitation on both our parts as to which side he should pass on. In the event, his bike swiped the side of mine, ripping the pannier off & hurling it into the middle of the road. It also swiped my little toe - for a second I actually thought it had been ripped off (and, oddly, I had the fleeting thought that ... well, I could get by, missing a toe...). Two very helpful fellows rushed to my aid, picked up the damaged pannier, found some rope & bound the pannier to the rack. Needless to say, a rather large crowd also gathered. The two Samaritans asked me to come with them, into a nearby paddock, under some trees - it was on my way - so their friends could see me. I was happy to oblige, give their help. Again a crowd developed - at least 30 or more young men (and 4 women) - and they began plying me with questions. The crowd clapped & cheered when I said that Sachin Tendulkar was my favourite cricketer. One fellow even asked me for my autograph (uncharitably, I wondered if perhaps I'd dropped one of my traveller cheques). Later, I discovered, amazingly, that my laptop/netbook which had been inside the airborne pannier was undamaged & my toe was swollen & red but intact.
The NH34 was a 2-laned highway only - one in each direction - meaning that much of the journey involved ducking onto the gravel shoulder to let trucks & buses - coming in both directions - pass. The most dangerous sight is that of a convoy of trucks heading toward you - one or more will always break formation and swing out in front of you. The message is: you have no right to the road, and it's your responsibility to get out of the way.
I arrived in Farakka feeling ... well, pretty farakked, having just zig-zagged my way through a MASSIVE traffic jam, several kilometres long. No idea what the problem was, and I noticed that even the nearby train was stopped, with passengers sitting on the tracks, waiting. I checked into a small place on the highway - Hote Asha (Rs 300 for a room). It wasn't too bad, although no hot water, and during the night (at 1:45 am) there was a loud, insistent, prolonged - & hence slightly alarming - knocking on my door. It was the man from the next room, clearly pissed, wanting me to come & have a drink with him & his mates! I told him to shove off.
From Farakka I cycled to Malda, checking in to Hotel Kalinga, a 2 star hotel on NH34. Happily, the makeshift repairs to my pannier (involving cloth tape & super glue) were successful. Once there, I decided to see the sights of Gaur - 2 stone pillars, Chamkati, Tantipara & Lottan mosques (1400's), Qadam Rasul mosque (with a footprint of Mohammad in it), tomb of Fath Khan (1707) and a few other places. Again, no other western tourists & just a handful of Indian ones. Again, crowds gathered when I stopped. The road was so crappy - probably the bumpiest, stoniest I've ever encountered - that I became quite irritable & snarled at a fellow at Chamkati mosque for following me wherever I went. Dave: equanimity! The road was shocking & there were hints along the way of roadworks to come. The Men at Work sign was perhaps a little too optimistic.

So now I'm at Siliguri, staying at the very basic Conclave Lodge (Rs300, with shared bathroom), sitting in the internet cafe where I can hear someone outside, very pissed, throwing up & making lots of noise - getting into the Holi spirit I guess. I've been advised to stay indoors tomorrow - but I had planned on cycling in the direction of Darjeeling ...

Bolpur/ Shantiniketan - Tuesday 23.2.10

2010-02-23T04:00:00.000-08:00

Hotel Rangamati's a pretty cosy place. done out in a sort of jungle theme, with 'faux' tree branches on the wall & several tanks full of fish out the front. I slept well, as I have been doing for most of the trip (exhaustion from cycling perhaps). Breakfast was another matter - I selected the 'standard' one for Rs65, comprising tea (which I managed to get changd to coffee), a banana, 3 pieces of toast & jam & eggs (poached, fried or omelette). Ordering an omelette seemed to create a problem, but this was eventually okayed. It all sounded good, but when it arrived - well, the coffee & banana were fine. The toast, accompanied by one serve of butter was cold, but the eggs ...! The eggs comprised two fried eggs, melded together by a thick overcooked base while the top of both was largely uncooked. I thought I'd have a go anyhow - it was stone cold! My complaint eventuated in a properly cooked omelette. God knows what the story was behind the first one.
Last night I had a meal at Green Chilli, the one Lonely Planet recommended place in town (and just across the laneway from Hotel Rangamati) - nothing much to write home about.
This morning I visited the Shantiniketan museum & then this afternoon I walked around parts of the university here. There were some fairly funky sculptures & buildings on view; everything seemed pretty much closed otherwise. I think Tuesday is a half-day here.

"JUST WAIT"
I thought I'd cash a travellers cheque at the State Bank of India. Entering the bank at midday I was confronted with a crowd of customers & staff & a bewildering array of desks & signs but nothing indicating Foreign Exchange or TC's. An enquiry led me to a woman at a corner desk, who was embroiled in some task with a male employee who appeared to be her senior. "Just wait" he requested when I presented the TC & passport & gestured me to sit in a chair at the next desk. After he left, she continued processing a pile of forms, looking somewhat harried. I pressed the issue, & was again told "just wait" which I did until about 12:20 when she & the woman at the next desk told me I needed to go upstairs to the Foreign Exchange section. I didn't have a clue where that was, so another member of staff kindly showed me the way. Upstairs, the man who had been at the desk when I first presented received me, took my passport & TC, looked up today's dollar rate on a computer, wrote something on a piece of paper & directed me back to the woman downstairs at the corner desk. "Just wait" she said before finishing a small pile of forms; she then filled out a form in triplicate, giving me 2 copies & then taking her copy to be countersigned by another colleague. She then directed me to the Cash Room where several workers & a few customers were waiting around. A pile of money was sitting on the desk, and there seemed to be bags of it in an open metal cabinet. I was offered a cup of tea as I sat & waited. Eventually it was my turn - an assistant counted out my money twice (Rs4520 for $100 USD), wrapped an elastic band around it & then put it on the desk to wait for the "Senior Assistant" (according to the blue plastic sign on the desk) to return. When he did, he recounted the money & handed it to me. Hallelujah! I left the bank a little after 1pm, the entire transaction having taken a little over an hour to complete. Normally this exercise takes about 7 minutes with a money changer. (I did manage to swap my stained Rs100 at the bank - they laughed, gave me a new one & stuck the dodgey one in the middle of a bundle of Rs100 notes, presumably to continue its unredeemable journey in circulation).

Bolpur/ Shantiniketan - Monday 22 Feb 2010

2010-02-22T06:36:00.000-08:00

Day 9 cycling: Bishnupur - Bolpur/ Shantiniketan
DST = 133km; RTM = 7hrs 41m; ODO = 725km; AVS = 17.2km/hr; cadence = 72; MAX =31 km/hr
As usual when I don't leave my bike in my room, the gears had been fiddled with. My plan was to do a massive amount of cycling today to get to Bolpur/ Shantiniketan - I ended up cycling 133km: the last 5km circling around town trying to find where the hotels were. It was also a slightly complicated route, a little off the beaten track. My Nelles map was not up to the job, and it seemed to deviate from reality quite a bit. I continuously checked with locals to make sure I was headed in the right way, and was continuously reminded how hopleess my pronunciation is. Typically, one person in a crowd of 10 knew what I was asking. I even had a prepared sentence from my Bengali phrasebook ("Is this the road to ....?") but when I tried it out people stared blankly at me. Such a lovely feeling when I encountered a road sign at an intersection indicating "Sonamakhi 30km" which was the first goal for the day. The road surface was excellent, pretty much the whole way, through forests (including eucalytpus plantations), rural areas & towns, but the traffic for much of it was taxing. My route took me through Sonamukhi, Pakhanna, Barjora, along the SH-9 to Durgapur & across the Damodar River - where I nearly came to grief. I overtook a stationary bus which then started to move as I got half way past it, and the sped up. I was on its right, near the centre of the road, and hurtling toward me at top speed was a blue truck. I planted the foot - I don't think I've ever pedalled with as much fervour & just managed by the merest margin to weave between them, in front of the bus & then to the side. Durgapur was undergoing some serious roadworks, and so I got a little lost for a bit until a helpful fellow was able to direct me in the right direction. He continued alongside for a little while & then asked if I would stay the night with him ..."You are so handsome!" he said. Sort of flattering, sort of "get me out of here...". I continued on. At the 86km mark was the turnoff to Suri, on SH-14, also called Darjeeling Rd. From here it was 22km to Illam Bazar & a further 19km to Bolpur. Th eroad surface became a little potholed just before Illam Bazar - the trouble with potholes is not just that they need to be avoided but, of greater concern, is that cars, trucks & buses weave with total abandon across the width of the tarmac trying to avoid them - and they're not concerned about cyclists that might be in the way.
I'm at Hotel Rangamati, at Rs 660 for an Ordinary/Non-AC room. It's quite comfortable, with a large bathroom & what is the strongest pressured hot shower I've yet encountered. It was bliss. Curiously, I looked about 20 years younger after the ride - my beard had become brown again (due to dust & other detritus) .

Bishnupur - Sunday 21 Feb 2010

2010-02-21T05:54:00.000-08:00

I'm happy to note that the signwriter made the necessary adjustment to The Institute of Advanced Studies sign. I feel pleased that my intervention has helped improve the visual landscape here ever so slightly.
I forgot to mention in yesterday's entry that the other reason I didn't stay at the Heritage Hotel was that while I was musing over whether I could tolerate the sound of grinding until 7pm, a van arrived, disgorging some Indian tourists. One man, carrying a small suitcase, rushed down the corridor & into the room in question, claiming it as his.
This morning I did a temple tour of Bishnupur for Rs150 by cycle rickshaw for a couple of hours. The temples, built in the 16- & 1700's and made of laterite, are quite unusual & nearly 30 are dotted around the township (we visited about 10 of them). Many are lavishly decorated with ornamental carvings on terracotta tiles or stone, and they often have a quite unusual shape - two parallel sides while the other two sides slope outwards, giving them a skew-whiff look at certain angles. Some of the rooves (?roofs) are curved, like the underside of a small boat. There's a 'sound & light' show at night which I briefly looked at but I couldn't quite see the point of looking at the temples as they changed colour from red to yellow to blue etc. Bishnupur is a pretty relaxed place, and early in the afternoon today (Sunday) most of the shops were shut & hardly anyone was to be seen.

Rasmancha

Shyamrai Temple

My plan for tomorrow is to head toward Shantiniketan, a town made famous by its connection with Rabindranath Tagore. The route there seems a little complicated as apparently there is no bridge where most maps show there to be one. So I'll need to rely on local directions - not always an easy task as local folk, to make a generalisation, just don't seem to have a good ability to give directions or to draw maps. I've been given maps in the past that are quite 'creative' in that directions such as left or right as drawn on the map rarely correlate with left & right in reality. i.e. the manager at Hotel Hindusthan drew me a map showing how to get out of town & back onto the highway - "go to the left at the roundabout" as he drew an arrow pointing to the right ...

Bishnupur - Sat. Feb 20 2010

2010-02-20T04:26:00.000-08:00

Day 8 cycling: Midnapore - Bishnupur
Distance (DST) = 77 km; Total Ride Time (TRT) = 4hr 54min; Average Speed (AVS) = 15.6 km/hr; MAX = 26.4 km/hr; cadence = 68rpm. Total Distance (ODO) = 593km

A slight hiccup this morning at Hotel Hindusthan when I went to pay the bill. No wonder it was so luxurious - apparently I stayed in the 'special' room which cost Rs1500! My error for not actually confirming the price before I took the room I guess; I'd assumed I'd taken the Rs800 one. After some discussion, it was reduced to Rs1350.

The delightful Highway 60 of the previous day had disappeared - the road to Bishnupur was mostly bumpy, potholed bitumen, and occasionally just stone & dirt, and I often had to move onto the gravel shoulder to let trucks & buses pass (the last 15 or so kilometres into Bishnupur was quite good) . A strong breeze & a few low hills at times conspired to make it slightly harder riding but it was compensated for by better scenery - the road passed through forested & farming areas, as well as the occasional village. There were quite a few stands of eucalypts on the way - they seem to be insinuating themselves all over India. Enough to sometimes feel like I was cycling through parts of Victoria. Two of the larger towns I passed through - Chandrakona Road & Garbheta - were quite a contrast. The first struck me as a dusty, grimy, traffic-fumed place whereas the second seemed quite pleasant & relaxed. Both towns had lodges - I know which I'd prefer to stay in.

Bishnupur Tourist Lodge was apparently full & the adjacent Heritage Hotel, with its extremely bright & colourful new paint job, was incredibly noisy as they were grinding the marble staircase. I wasn't persuaded by their assurance that the work would only continue until 7pm, and so found a spot at ... well, I'm not sure if it's Udayan Lodge or Hotel Bishnupur as both names are painted outside. At Rs200 it could be described as plain, or basic - no power point even. It's a strange old building, reminiscent of an orphanage or religious institution or even correctional centre.

After a wash & a bit of a rest I found this internet place - unconvincing from the outside. but it obviously is. The mossies here are full-on; I had to apply some Rid Sunblock Plus (containing insect repellent) to be able to continue sitting here.

While walking here, I passed a signwriter painting a fairly large sign on a fence advertising "The Institue of Advanced ..." in English. Needless to say, I couldn't help pointing out that he'd left out the third 't' in Institute. The piece of paper he was copying from had the same error - lucky for him I guess. A man crossed the road, and of course a crowd developed - I think this fellow had some responsibility for the sign so it will be interesting to see if it's been corrected on my way back (Luckily it wasn't for the Institute of Advanced English).

I've arranged for a man & his pedal rickshaw to show me the sights of Bishnupur tomorrow.

Midnapore (aka Medinipur), West Bengal - Friday Feb 19th 2010

2010-02-19T06:49:00.000-08:00

Day 6 cycling: Bhadrak - Jaleswar
Distance (DST) = 120km; Total Ride Time (TRT) = 6hr 52min; Average Speed (AVS) = 17.4 km/hr; MAX = 29km/hr; cadence = 74rpm. Total Distance (ODO) = 427km

Day 7 cycling: Jaleswar - Midnapore (a.k.a Medinipur)
Distance (DST) = 88 km; Total Ride Time (TRT) = 5hr 30min; Average Speed (AVS) = 16 km/hr; MAX = 27.5 km/hr; cadence = 73rpm. Total Distance (ODO) = 516km

The Blue Vine Hotel turned out to be a good place to stay - in the attached restaurant the food was good & the staff attentive if not solicitous, doling out rice & pieces of bread from their baskets when it looked like I was ready for more. It was amusing to watch some electricians at work while I ate the evening meal. It seemed they were checking out the wiring - after using various meters with presumably no clear results, one of them stuck his screwdriver in the socket... still nothing. One of the wall fans near me wasn't working, so the waiter got it going by giving the blades a flick with a fork. The mossies are savage here - covered in bites after breakfast, including huge ones on each thumb. I left the Blue Vine just as the ubitiquous hammering & general reconstruction work on the hotel began. Is there a hotel in India that isn't being refurbished?

The road from Bhadrak was quite poor in parts, and apparently road works were being done, but only some half-hearted work appeared to be actually happening in a couple of places. Meanwhile, there were continual road diversions - traffic was directed onto one side of the dual carriageway & then the other for much of the way. Which was probably why I missed the turnoff to Baleswar! For some inexplicable reason I just didn't see it, but realising I'd missed it I figured I'd forge on to Jaleswar. I was now off Highway 5 & on Highway 60, and it was excellent. No more traffic diversions, it was a double-laned divided carriageway, & the road surface was a delightfully smooth concrete. At one point during the journey I thought I was a goner for a split second: while passing a truck in the opposite direction on a tight sandy corner (at a diversion point) - I was about a metre, maybe less, away from it - it leaned so far over that I, with a start, thought "omigod ..!" convinced it was going to topple right over me ... Not so far fetched - I passed two 'toppled over' trucks today, one blocking the carriageway entirely, with grain & huge sacks of grain strewn across the road.

It was a long haul of 120km to Jaleswar. There's a railway station there & as far as I could figure it, two accommodation places. The Mid Town Hotel was full, and so the only other option was Shri Krishna Lodge, which most certainly wasn't. It was down an alleyway, across from the railway station. The owner wanted Rs400 for a room that anywhere else would cost maybe Rs150, if that, and wouldn't budge on the price knowing he had me over a barrel. At least I managed to procure a towel from him. It was a big room, with 2 tables, 2 chairs, 2 beds, 2 fluorescent lights, 2 ceiling fans & a mirror. A 2 person room perhaps? When he threw one of the pillows to the right end of the bed, a big puff of dust rose into the air. The 2 cigarette butts in the bathroom drainage grille & an empty whisky bottle behind the bed gave the room a 'lived in' feeling. The room was near the railway station, which'd be handy if I was catching a train as I could hear the platform announcements very clearly from the bathroom. Still, it's not the worst place I've stayed in, and it did have its own bathroom - although it'd be one of the grubbiest sinks I've ever encountered. The owner looked at me without apparent comprehension when I pointed it out to him. The day finished with dinner & a movie - dinner was a bottle of Fanta, some grapes & bananas, and I watched an old episode of Spenser for Hire on the netbook.

Room at Hotel Hindusthan

The road into Jaleswar after leaving the highway was about 8km, and the road out was a further 8km. Back on the highway, the road continued to be a lovely smooth concrete, and there wasn't much traffic, but unfortunately the accompanying breeze wasn't headed in my direction. If you happen to be cycling to Midnapore (aka Medinipur) from Jaleswar, then you need to continue past the Kharagpur turnoff & remain on Highway 60 until you come to the flyover with signs pointing to Mumbai in one direction & Kolkata the other. Take the left on-ramp (in the direction of Mumbai), then, 4 km later, turn right. A sign says 4km to Midnapore, but it really means 4km to the turnoff. It seemed to take forever to find the centre of town, if indeed I actually did. Indian towns can be very confusing when you arrive by bicycle. And finding a hotel can be hard work. It's often a good idea to head toward the railway station, but I had a devil of a job finding out where it was, and slowly experienced a sort of sinking feeling when asking what quickly developed into a crowd of people where the station was. Especially dispiriting given that the Hindi & Bengali word for station is pretty much ... station. Miming trains is not something I like doing, as I'm not very good at it. Still, there's always someone in the crowd who eventually & triumphantly figures out what's being asked, and points the way. In the end I came across the OK-looking Hotel Samrat; they asked me to wait for 40 minutes as the previous guests of my potential room still had to check out. I had a Coke & read an English-language Indian newspaper in the lobby until, after 20 minutes, the apologetic desk clerk advised me that the manager had declined to have me as they couldn't safely accommodate my bike. I was then given directions to Hotel Hindusthan (Station Road, Keranitole, Midnapore West). They were only too happy to let me have the bike in my room & got one of the lads to take it upstairs in the lift. Yes, it's flash enough to have a lift. And what a room! Heavy drapes over the windows & between the bed area & a sitting room space with 3 couches, bedspreads, yellow & blue walls - it looks like a waiting room in a brothel. Luxurious, Rs 800 a night, but then I reckon I could manage a bit of luxury after all the cycling I've done over the past 5 or so days. Good water pressure, plenty of hot water, white (clean) fluffy towel, and a decent restaurant on the ground floor, where I had a late lunch of Sechuan Fried Rice (the Indian version of this is pretty good), mango juice & coffee - add your own instant coffee & sugar to a mix of hot water & milk; it tasted great. I actually don't really have a clue where I am or how to get back onto the highway from here but I'll figure that out tomorrow. For now, it's back to the hotel for an evening meal of... maybe aloo mutter, maybe chicken tikka masala, maybe both. Tomorrow, Bishnupur, where I'll take a rest & have a look around. I may have been too slow getting started to actually make it all the way to Darjeeling by bike. I'll figure something out in the next few days.

Bhadrak - Wed 17th Feb 2010

2010-02-17T01:01:00.000-08:00

Day 5 cycling: Chandikhol - Bhadrak
Distance (DST) = 67km; Total Ride Time (TRT) = 3hr 22min; Average Speed (AVS) = 19.8 km/hr; MAX = 32km/hr; cadence = 72rpm. Total Distance (ODO) = 308km

An unremarkable day's riding to Bhadrak where I got directions from a helpful group of policemen to the Blue Vine Hotel. The non-A/C room is Rs350, and has hot water, fan & towel. There are scores of staff - 3 of them took me, my panniers, soap, towel & TV remote control to my room - more staff than guests it appears. Others took care of my bicycle. The road (Highway 5) is pretty good, and subdivided although you still get vehicles coming toward you on both sides of the roadway as there are few gaps from one side of the divided road to the other, so local traffic has little other option. People seem friendly & often passing motorcycles slow right down to keep pace with you & sometimes try & have a chat. Generally OK but it sometimes wears a bit thin if they hang alongside peering blankly at you for ages.
The town here seems OK & this internet cafe, once I found it, is pretty good, charging Rs15 per hour (about 36 cents). There seems to be a shortage of USB inputs in most of the computers I've encountered to date, hence the lack of uploaded photos.

Chandikhol - Tuesday 16 Feb

2010-02-16T05:43:00.000-08:00

Day 4 cycling: Chandikhol - Ratnagiri - Udayagiri - Lalitgiri - Chandikhol

Distance (DST) = 82km; Total Ride Time (TRT) = 4hr 20min; Average Speed (AVS) = 18.9 km/hr; MAX = 37.5km/hr; cadence = 75rpm. Total Distance (ODO) =241km

Breakfast this morning was a cup of chai at a street stall, a bunch of grapes & a couple of Rich Cashew cookies. I briefly noticed on the TV (- none of the channels are in English, but one had ticker tape news headlines in English) that there's been a bomb blast in Pune, 24 police killed by Maoists in Midnapore (I'll be cycling through there in a few days) & something else about foreigners. Hmm... I assume there will be no problems ...

I decided that today I would do a round trip tour of 3 Buddhist ruins - at Ratnagiri, Udayagiri & Lalitgiri. It was a foggy morning but the road - Highway 5A - was pretty good (aside from all the trucks) - a divided highway. Contrary to expectations, the 3 sites were well signposted with large blue "Incredible India" signs every kilometer or so. It was a largely rural area, with the usual rice & other crops, goats & cattle. Everywhere you looked animal shit was being transformed into large round discs & left out to dry & then stacked in great cyclindrical piles. In a number of places, villagers would section off part of the road with boulders to leave their various grains out to dry. Overall, and especially after leaving the main highway at the 12km mark, it was a delightful area to cycle through (although you have to watch out for the local speed humps - usually at both ends of a village but sometimes randomly allocated also it seemed - they're quite high & narrow with no accommodation for cycles . People were very friendly, and later in the afternoon I was 'buttonholed' by a bunch of blokes into having a meal at the local school. After removing shoes I entered a room full of maybe 15 blokes sitting against the four walls. I was shown to a spot, a large square piece of banana leaf put in front of me & then a couple of blokes with buckets of food scooped out copious amounts of rice and various veg curries onto the leaf. No cutlery - a hand only job, which I did with about 5 blokes standing & observing. Then, a glass of sweetened rice & a trace of fruit. Very tasty & most hospitable of them; they wanted nothing in return.

The ruins themselves were actually quite impressive, and there were small museums at both Ratnagiri & Lalitgiri containing some impressive sculptures. The state government here seems to be working hard to promote the 'Buddhist Circuit' & work on Tourist Info Centres, Accommodation, Toilet Blocks, Parking, Conference centres, etc etc is proceeding apace. Road reconstruction was also happening in many spots. The ruins at Ratnagiri were the most extensive, and the only blight on the whole thing was the earsplitting Hindi music from the nearby village. Perhaps they were ensuring that they weren't being forgotten. Curiously, there was a Hindu temple smack dab in the middle of the Udayagiri ruins, perhaps to ensure that noone got the wrong idea with all th Buddhist stuff on show. Other than a handful at Ratnagiri, there were no other tourists to be seen, which made for a relaxing time. Cycling back, a young Indian girl with not much English cycled along with me, making an effort at conversation. She was quite chuffed when I gave her a 20 cent Australian coin, and then when discovering where I'd cycled from said "you're my hero!" ... unfortunately following up with "..and so old now!".

Indians are very funny about soiled money. I have a Rs100 note with red stains on 2 corners. Nowhere will accept it, even the big hotels, and when I throw my hands up & say "what the hell will I do with it then?!" I'm told that the bank might give me Rs90 for it. I can't help wishing that hotels & lodges would show the same diligence with their towels & sheets.

Stained money - not accepted anywhere

Chandikhol - Monday 15 Feb

2010-02-15T04:11:00.000-08:00

Day 3 cycling: Bhubaneswar to Chandikhol

Distance (DST) = 61km; Total Ride Time (TRT) = 3hr 7min; Average Speed (AVS) = 19.4 km/hr; MAX = 30km/hr; cadence = 73rpm. Total Distance (ODO) =159km
Even after a number of trips to India, I still find it hard to stomach the the ghastly sounds of people performing their morning ablutions. My room here at Hotel Upasana was on the ground floor, and on the wall outside my room there's a tap at which several people seem to get stuck into their morning routines with great gusto - so, at 7am, I arise to the sounds of vigorous hawking, growling, gobbing, as nasal & throat and probably other passageways are cleared out. Hmm, now for my breakfast! After performing my own somewhat less dynamic morning rituals, I had this at an LP recommended place (Truptee Restaurant) - two sambar vada (like doughnuts, floating in a sambar sauce) and a 'Nescoffee' which cost less than a dollar (AUD) all up. Good start to the day. My new chum from the past 2 days, Andrea, had already headed off - she found Bhubaneswar to be a most unwelcoming place - so I figured I'd do the same. I wheeled the bike into the lobby to settle my bill; the annoying security guy, appropriately mustachioed & wearing a military-looking security uniform, decided that he would wheel my bike outside, to which I responded "leave it!" ... he glared at me & took a few more steps with it ..."leave it!" ... yet more steps ..."LEAVE IT!!" I had to bellow before he got the message.

The ride here was along a flat, easy road, crossing several mighty bridges, but overall the scenery wasn't very attractive - lots of truck stops, and stopped trucks, and some agricultural areas. As I arrived at Chandikhol (in some places spelt Chandikhole), the Hotel Mid East could be seen towering over the intersection ahead (it's at the crossroad of Highways 5 & 5A). On the right I could see a sign to the Buddhist ruins of Ratnagiri, Udayagiri & Lalitgiri that I figured I might visit tomorrow. The hotel's reception is on the 3rd floor, so after removing panniers & locking the bike to a metal pole in front of an interested crowd, I proceeded to reception where I selected a non-A/C room for Rs250 (the A/C room cost about Rs700) - on the 4th floor. Following in the footsteps of the redoubtable Bill Weir I lugged the bike up to the 4th floor, much to the amusement of reception staff. It's a decent enough room - large, with ceiling fan & squat toilet, relatively clean & looking like it's been repainted in the the last few years. Towel & soap also provided. If I don't look directly down, there's a decent view out the window of the highway ahead; looking down, there's a herd of pigs in a dumping ground - wouldn't reckon they'd find much nourishment in amongst all the plastic bags, bottles etc that have been dumped there. (Tragically, these dump sites of non-biodegradable plastic are everywhere in India, often outside restaurants & hotels or at the edge of villages.) Overall, this feels like a reasonable place.

I've mentioned Bill Weir above: I probably should mention his excellent web journals at crazyguyonabike.com. See Asia Again. My route is largely based on the one he took between Puri & Siliguri in 2008.

Bhubaneswar - Sun 14 Feb 2010

2010-02-14T07:10:00.000-08:00

(..this will be interesting -the letters have worn off half the keys on the keyboard & the space key keeps jamming - this, in one of the main internet cafes in Bhubaneswar, the capital of Orissa state...)

Day 2 cycling: Konark to Bhubaneswar

Distance (DST) = 62.7km; Total Ride Time (TRT) = 5hr 20min; Average Speed (AVS) = 18.3 km/hr; cadence = 70rpm Total Distance (ODO) = 98

I spent a few hours in the morning on Friday with Mr Dhruba Nayak, Sun Temple guide from yesterday, who drove us around on his extremely old motor scooter to a number of Shiva temples where various procedures were taking place. The big deal about this was that it was "Shivaratri"- a day of celebrating Shiva. At one of these temples Mr Nayak presented me with a bhang (= marijuana) lassi, which, spoil-sport that I am, I declined after a brief sip. All around me the locals were puffing away on their ganga. A visit to the Archeological museum & a meal at the Sun Temple hotel completed the day.
Saturday's cycling started at 9:30am; the roads were OK, mostly through agricultural areas (rice, sheep, goats, cattle etc), villages and a few towns (eg Gop, Pipili) & up until Pipili was quite pleasant. Between Pipili & Bhubaneswar the road degenerated into a fairly typical Indian road - honking, disorder, lack of any courtesy ... the alarming sight of oncoming vehicles swarming out to fill the entire roadway, sweeping toward you in one unruly mass when a gap in the traffic permits...

I arrived at Hotel Upasana in Bhubaneswar at1:45pm. Not cheap at Rs1000 (reduced from Rs1200) & not very spick & span but a very spacious room. It was probably a classy place 20 years ago, but like so many places in India, little or no maintenance or cleaning gets done & so a general air of neglect & tiredness sets in. The paperwork is excessive - more than is required to get into the country: the hotel ledger with visa & passport details, another form requiring exactly the same details, & then a special book thrust at me by the overly punctilious security guy - who, chastened after I told him to get off my bike that he'd commandeered while I was checking in, gave me a hard time when I wanted to keep the bike in my room (I prevailed) - that he wanted me to sign.

A saving grace here has been meeting a young Columbian woman Andrea here while changing money - nice to have her company - last night had a meal at Venus Inn, a decent local Veg restaurant & then today did a massive 8 (eight!) hour organised tour of the sights of Bhubaneswar- numerous temples, Udayagiri & Khandagiri caves, the State Museum, the Shanti Stupa at Dhauli, Nandankanan Zoo (where we did the lion & tiger safari: saw some of the famous blue-eyed white tigers). So, I've now 'done' Bhubaneswar but I think tomorrow I'll rest as I feel quite fatigued from today's touring & will start pedalling again on Tuesday morning (after I've figured out exactly where I'm going ...). On the whole, Bhubaneswar is not an especially engaging or pleasant city - you don't feel you can easily hangout anywhere or comfortably just wander about & there are very few other western tourists about. In some places that's a blessing, but not here.

Rhino at Nandankanan Zoo

Konark - 11.2.10

2010-02-11T07:14:00.000-08:00

Day 1 cycling: Puri to Konark
Distance (DST) = 35km; Total Ride Time (TRT) = 1hr 52min; Average Speed (AVS) = 18.3km/hr; cadence = 70rpm

After a hearty breakfast, I hit the road at about 9am. It was an easy, leisurely ride to Konark: a slight cool breeze, temperature about 30'C, smooth, flat roads, little traffic - and surprisingly benign when there was some - and very friendly people along the way. The highway - NH203E - passed through two animal sanctuaries, over several rivers, along the sea shore, and by a place where blokes were carving statues out of sandstone. A fine road, albeit short at 35km, to cycle ... as the tired old phrase goes "it doesn't get much better ...." A great feeling to have finally started a bit of cycling.

As in the past, it's interesting watching the mind tick over as you sit in the seat pedalling away: wishing you were there already; thinking how great this is; will there be accommodaton available?; maybe I'll wash some clothes; I haven't been very hungry of late & feel tired ...hope I haven't got some disorder; what the hell was Felix ... well, you get the picture. All rather redundant, pointless, as it will all work itself out one way or the other anyhow, whether I spent time thinking about it or not, and in the meantime it involves quite a separation from what's actually going on.

The road to Konark

Eventually arrived at Labanya Lodge where I've taken a pretty good room for Rs750 (about $18 AUD) - I tried to argue the price down but the owner, a friendly but business-like bloke, wasn't budging. Relative luxury, with several windows facing in different directions, hot water & a ceiling fan, and the only place in town with the internet. For some unkown reason I booked & paid for 2 nights, whereas 1 might have been enough. The Sun Temple, about 300m away, is an very impressive temple complex, built in the 13th century in the fashion of a gigantic chariot for the Sun God, comprising twelve pairs of huge wheels pulled by seven horses. I took a guide & he explained it all fairly well over about 3 hours. He asked my profession at one point & when I replied went on to tell me about his poor sleep & excessive worry about his 2 daughters who were of marriageable age but how the family needed to pay a dowry for them in the range of about $7000 - a huge sum here (I cracked some joke about whether he was hoping I'd marry them but it went right past him - perhaps just as well). So he worries big time. They also have a small house - there are 5 of them (they also have a son) so they can't even all get to sleep at the same time. I gave him the "why worry" tip but I don't think it hit the mark. He seemed a little crestfallen when I gave him Rs320 for the 3 hours work (pretty reasonable according to my homework); later I thought maybe I should've deducted a bit for the free psychological advice. These are difficult matters here - whether to tip people e.g. a worker cleans your room at his request then puts out a hand & asks for a tip - like, isn't that his damn job? - or whether to give money to beggars (one neatly-dressed fellow in Kolkata presented me with a bad luck story & said he just wanted some food, no money, as he wasn't a beggar. We passed a stall & I was going to buy him something but they hadn't quite opened so I gave him some small change (Rs20) which he looked at rather ungraciously, took, & then walked off.) There are some extremely tragic looking cases everywhere but how to judge who's 'worthy' because you certainly couldn't afford to give to everyone who asked.

The Sun Temple is mostly made out of sandstone, with a few granite sections; there are heaps of human & other figures in various "amorous" poses around the temple - men & women, with one, sometimes two partners, having 'regular' sex in various poses, oral sex, anal sex, 'self-sex', lesbian sex... a dog was involved in at least one scene ... two elephants having sex... the one thing I didn't notice was male homosexual sex... what's the story there? I had to return to my room to lie down for a while after 3 hours of stickbeaking at all that ...

The mossies are pretty bad around here ...

Sun Temple

Puri - Wed 10.2.10

2010-02-10T05:28:00.000-08:00

(ah, a good computer & reasonably fast internet for once - such a pleasure!) After a good night's sleep, unfortunately punctuated several times by some fairly hardcore mosquitoes, the day started with a juice, masala omelette, toast & coffee at the Peace Restaurant. Then, a walk on the beach, nimbly dodging shit that was quickly figured wasn't that of dogs. Still, people have to shit & if there's no where else to go ... Later, a cycle ride to Marine Parade, primarily where the Indian tourists hang out, although there were a few obvious pockets of Europeans on the beach also. It looked as you could imagine parts of the Gold Coast might look after the apocalypse ... there's little or no culture here of keeping the place clean, or of recycling or maintenance, although some attempts to try & propagate these ideas are evident in the Times of India. I've been reading White Tiger, a brutally comic critique of what the author reckons is rotten in India. Hard to know of course, but it seems to echo with my experience of the place, minus much sense of charm. Also went & chatted with Ramu, the head honcho of a local martial arts club (Panchavidya Five Knowledge Centre) that has posters plastered all over town (I think he was OK with me pointing out several gross spelling errors on the poster). I don't think business was booming for him, as he seemed a little embarrassed when I asked if I could watch a class, but he gave me a CD he's made of some of his training sessions. Areas he covers include: Meditation; Stretching; Self- massage; Self-Defence; Vayu Sadhana (something to do with breath control I think); Sword technique; Nan Chaku & Swimming. He seemed like a nice fellow.

Tomorrow, if inspired, I'll do my first bit of A to B cycling & head off to Konark, home of the Sun Temple - a short jaunt of only about 37 km. Puri is a nice place but I'm experiencing an odd combination of listlessness & restlessness, which probably suggests it's time to hit the road ... For now, it's off to eat - I don't think, for a couple of obvious reasons, that it will be at the Mickey Mouse Restaurant that I passed on my way here ...

PURI - Tuesday 9.2.10

2010-02-09T05:52:00.000-08:00

(.. I think this computer I'm using must have been made in the 1940's ...) Travelling to Puri by bus was seeming too complicated & so I ended up getting a train ticket from a place I was changing money at - on the Howrah-Puri Express. I always feel wary of using the train partly because of damage incurred to a bike on an earlier trip & also because it means losing contact with the bike & entrusting it to the Indian railway system. Given that the train left at 8:55pm I thought it wise to get a taxi to Howrah rather than cycle either in peak hour traffic or in the dark. Jamming the bike into the back seat again was a hell of an exercise, requiring the combined brain & physical prowess of me, the driver & 4 hotel staff. We eventually succeeded when I finally computed that I needed to remove the front wheel & lower the seat. Then of course, booking the bike onto the train is a rigmarole - just finding the Parcel office is a bit like being on a car rally: small cryptic clues eventually lead to your destination (e.g. discovering that it's the Parcel office I want, not the Baggage office). Then, after dropping the bike off & filling in a form, I had to retrace my steps quite a distance back to ask a functionary to stamp the form before returning it to where I'd dropped the bike off. The train trip (I went in a sleeping car, 2-tier) went quite quickly & I slept like a log until shortly before arrival at 6am. But ... where is the bike? The bloke in the Parcel office said come back in an hour, which wasn't very encouraging. I figured that I could use the time to find a room which I eventually did at the Hotel Lotus (my first 2 choices were booked out) at Rs400 a night (about $10 AUD). This time, a spacious room, just a little lacking in the window department (one window looks out at a brick wall, 1ft away, and the other is 1ft wide by maybe 4 ft high) , but otherwise clean & comfortable & the owners & staff seem friendly & helpful (and extremely interested in the bike, my age, ... and am I insane...). On returning to the station my bike had arrived & was waiting for me in the Parcel office!

Puri is a pretty relaxed beachside place & also a major Hindu pilgrimage centre - home of the Jagannath Mandir (temple), which I cycled out to this afternoon. The town was apparently big on the 'hippie' trail in the '70's & there are vague remnants of this now (eg in names such as Peace Restaurant, Xanadu Pavilion, Love & Life hotel, and in the numerous ayurvedic & healing centres around town). It's lovely to see the sea, although apparently it's a bad idea to try & swim in it (sections of it double as public toilet & I think there are rips, etc). The one unpleasant feature about the place is that apparently it's also a bit of paedophile hang-out. I'll probably stay here for 2 days & then head on to Konark ... by bike...

Calcutta - Sunday 7.2.10 (Cyber Valley Internet cafe)

2010-02-07T07:55:00.000-08:00

Some of what you see here is so crushingly tragic, so awfully ... unfair. There are beggars everywhere, of all ages and genders, often with twisted bodies or missing body parts. Yesterday on one of my walks I encountered a fellow, wearing a loincloth only, with just one small flipper of an arm that he was flapping furiously while lying face down on a large rectangle of blue tarpaulin that was peppered with coins. Someone, either a helper or a sort of beggar's pimp, probably the latter, had obviously set him up there. Later on in the evening as I ventured out to a restaurant (Teej, allegedly one of the better ones around town) I walked past some pavement dwellers, one of whom was slapping his partner's face and howling ... she remained immobile. On my way back, after a hearty meal (somewhat coloured by what I suspected had happened) he was lying there, silently this time with what seemed like a body wrapped in hessian next to him.

It wouldn't be India if there weren't major reconstruction work happening inside the hotel at some point during the stay. At about 6am, audible scrabbling and then sawing sounds could be heard, followed by the occasional tremendous clatter of falling rubble. There was clearly some dire necessity to do this work at this hour because by about 7:30 am all work had ceased. In the past I probably would've exploded out into the corridor but these days finding some form of acceptance seems the wiser course.

I cycled to Babu Ghat, the bus station, this morning to see about a bus ticket to Puri. Besides getting badly lost on the way there (and this, with a map & even compass) I had terrible trouble trying to sort something out. One company said the bike was a problem & another couldn't seem to grasp what I was requesting. It appears that the best course of action might be to just arrive there tomorrow evening a few hours before departure & try & sort something out. Failing this, I might just have to start pedalling!

There was a major demonstration in town today; masses & masses of people arriving in countless buses, protesting about price hikes in sugar (and possibly other things). While waiting for a small gap in the march so I could cross the road, I got chatting with a Mr V. Agarwal, a paper napkin manufacturer (or "Stockist of Disposable Catering Item" according to his business card). He was most interested to hear that my profession was psychologist & asked what my opinion was of him (after asking the obligatory questions: was I married? What was my religion? Did I believe in god?). He appeared a little crestfallen when I said he seemed a pleasant, relaxed fellow, and proceeded to tell me about his life and how unhappy and stressed he was and wanted my advice. (This was all a difficult conversation due to his broken English & my non-existent Hindi). My suggestion to "worry less" surprisingly seemed to hit the mark & he cheered considerably, while thanking me.The funny thing was: I found it very helpful also, having been worrying just a little about how to handle the bus dilemma & associated options.

Calcutta - Sat 6.2.10

2010-02-06T05:05:00.000-08:00

Well thankfully I had a good sleep last night & almost feel my normal self & no further claustrophobic experiences ... I've done bugger all cycling for what is ostensibly a cycling holiday. I spent a good part of the morning (almost) finishing the final chapters of the very popular The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (a free copy I stumbled across on the web) on my BeBook. It seemed to start slowly, have a very flat spot in the middle, but began to pick up pace at the halfway mark ... and I was hooked. Parts of it were quite daft but on the whole it was a captivating read. Luckily I have copies of his next 2 books on the eBook reader. Afterwards, I walked down to the South Park Street Cemetery (on the way, encountering & sidestepping a rather large flock of goats swarming (flocking?) across the roadway) and after looking around at the Raj-era tombs I headed off to the offices of India Tourism to collect a 'permission note' to visit the Marble Palace, a rather extraordinary nineteenth century (?1835) palatial mansion, with marble walls & floors & packed with all manner of statues, glassware, paintings, furniture, mirrors, clocks, caged birds, etc. etc., more or less tucked away in a side street in North Calcutta. I got there by using the Metro. Despite looking rather run down, the trains thundered along at a tremendous pace. The journey cost 4Rp - about 10 cents (in AUD) - and was, oddly, rather good fun & an effective way to get around parts of Calcutta. After the Marble Palace, I walked a few more blocks to visit Tagore's House - the family mansion of Rabindranath Tagore, the famous Bengali poet and all-round artist. They were also holding an Astrology Convention on the grounds but I steered well away from this. Inspired by the trip on the Metro, I decided to catch a tram that seemed headed in the right direction. Apparently electric trams have been running in Calcutta since 1902 (and I reckon the one I got on had been running since then: extremely decrepit). It trundled along at little more than walking pace, and its passage was continually being impeded by rickshaws, pedestrians, men with pushcarts, etc. Needless to say, it ended up leaving me miles from anywhere & I found myself walking a few more km & then catching the Metro for one stop, back to base & late lunch at 'Fresh & Juicy', a travellers' cafe in Sudder Street. I reckon I'll be here for 2 more days before heading to Puri by bus ... so, if you were hoping to read about the cycling, it might be a little while yet. I'll still have plenty to see around Calcutta when I return in a few weeks time, and will probably wait until then before visiting some of the more curious places quietly recommended to me by my chum Mr Felix (aka Pak Peelips).

Calcutta tram

Calcutta - Friday 5.2.10

2010-02-05T06:15:00.000-08:00

Here again at the Cyber Valley internet cafe, after having presented my official internet cafe number (02-2943, if you're interested).. I seem to be suffering intense fatigue at present - either I've contracted some ghastly disorder or it's to do with acclimatising to India. Last night at about midnight, utterly fatigued though I was, I had what seemed like an attack of claustrophobia in my very small room. I felt I couldn't breathe, and became unreasonably anxious ... rather unsettling - oh dear, I think I need to see a psychologist ... ! At a slightly more detached viewpoint (i.e 18 hours later), it was quite an interesting & informative experience ... Despite my lack of energy, I & the bike hit the streets of Calcutta this morning, resulting in an entirely different experience of intermittent anxiety. For instance, cars seem to overtake trams on both sides, and even trams heading in the other direction, on the other side of the road!! So, imagine my surprise, while cycling alongside a tram heading in the same direction, to find a car hurtling toward me ... (and this happened a number of times). I got a little caught up in the traffic flow & so indavertently found myself riding across the Hooghly River, on the Howrah Bridge - a cantilever bridge (for all my engineering mates!) & allegedly "one of the world's busiest bridges." It was rather jam-packed with traffic & pedestrians. Later on, after depositing the bike back at my hotel, I paid a visit to the Indian Museum, an anachronistic collection of stuffed animals, dead insects, rocks, art & so on. If you should ever visit, bring a torch to look at the artworks - for some reason these rooms are so dark you can barely see the picture frames. OH&S practices are sadly absent - one worker was casually standing on the edge of a third story parapet doing some reconstructive work, and another was elsewhere perched on a freestanding, unsecured bamboo scaffolding repairing a ceiling. His colleague on the ground was hauling bags of plaster up to him via some rope looped over the bamboo crossbeam. I elected to have lunch at the Blue Sky Cafe in Sudder Street, and then, deciding to beat my fatigue into submission, I visited the Victoria Memorial and then St Paul's Cathedral. I suspect it may be a few more days until I decide to hit the road (possibly via bus to Puri).

Calcutta - Thursday 4.2.2010

2010-02-04T05:08:00.000-08:00

I'm at the Cyber Valley internet cafe in Calcutta, having just received my official card & number to use the internet. To obtain this, I had to have my passport scanned & photograph taken. (Who knows - this may be being monitored...) So I can now report that I've arrived in India safely but utterly exhausted. Finally got to the Hotel VIP Inter Continental at 2:15am this morning (according to the details as recorded on the hotel's computer ... in fact I think it's some new national monitoring scheme. At first I thought the man behind the counter said it was for 'tourism' ... later clarified as 'terrorism'. I felt a little uneasy when "Melbourne Australia" appeared on screen, but he & the assembled audience - a typical feature of any public activity you conduct in India - seemed unfussed about this. Perhaps they haven't heard ... )

Departure from Melbourne was complexified, as usual, by arriving with a bicycle at check-in. The woman at the desk told me I needed to have the bike in a box. I explained that Thai airlines didn't insist on this; she then called a fellow over to adjudicate. He smilingly told me through his braces (!) that I would need to remove the chain from my bicycle. Now this is a particularly difficult exercise on the Surly, and so he went off to check the regulations when I gently expostulated. Luckily, and as I had thought, the regulations did not require this, but he did discover that in addition to letting the tyres down (a pointless exercise, but never mind this, my railings will never change it), turning the handlebars around & removing the pedals, I also had to sign a disclaimer indicating that I wasn't going to remove the chain! At Calcutta airport, as the bike eventually appeared on the conveyor belt - well, almost appeared ... it jammed & so I had to wrench it out, I began to wonder if a box mightn't have been such a bad idea. The handlebars had come adrift and, ironically, the chain had half come off.

Passing through customs & immigration was prolonged by having to complete a form regarding the H1N1 virus & then lining up before a table of doctors wearing face masks to have it signed off. Thankfully there was a man with a sign with my name on it at the exit, and a yellow Abassador taxi waiting for me. On the way to the taxi I was hit by the old 'cup of chai at the airport scam' .. in my debilitated state after 14 or so hours in the air I unthinkingly accepted a cup of chai given to me by a fellow holding a small tray of them & had a sip before realising I didn't want a cup of chai & that now I would have to pay. So at 1:00am in the airport carpark I was being pursued by this fellow & his chums wanting money for the damn tea ... And then a short while later, another group of young men wanted a tip for helping cram the bike into the rear seat of the taxi. Message to me: I have now arrived - time to rearrange the brain into India mode!

My room, on the 3rd floor, is OK but small - and pretty cramped with the bike in it. I had to move it into the bathroom when I had breakfast, and then out again when I had a shower. The bike looks as though it has reassembled into much the same shape as when I left but tomorrow will hopefully tell when I take it for a spin. The roads don't look as bad as Delhi's.

ready to go ..

2010-02-02T16:25:00.000-08:00

... all my bags are packed, I'm ready to go ... the bike & accompanying bag weigh 21.3kg (It'd be too heavy, with the 20kg limit, were I also taking a bike box ... but damned if I know what items I could've left behind)...

India again

2010-01-20T01:04:00.000-08:00

Just on 2 weeks to departure & I'm aware, as the time gets nearer, of a slight edginess, an apprehension, a frisson of fear ... not about anything in particular, although when I do stop & focus on the impending trip the occasional image of Indian roads, towns & accommodation passes through my mind, leading to a tiny shudder of anxiety. I suppose I could recast this as 'anticipatory excitement.' I haven't yet started to fret about how many undies or T-shirts to take or about the problems that always arise upon arrival at the airport check-in with a bicycle - their unfailing agitation over not taking the bike in a box, and the senseless insistence on deflating the tyres.

Indian road toll

2009-12-27T14:53:00.000-08:00

hmm... http://www.theage.com.au/world/indian-road-toll-soars-to-world-high-20091227-lg9n.html

next trip

2009-11-01T03:51:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-06T05:15:00.000-08:00

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

MELBOURNE

2008-12-01T15:46:00.000-08:00

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 !

2008-12-01T15:34:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-29T21:35:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-29T04:48:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-27T03:53:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-25T01:31:00.000-08:00

... 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 ...
.......

MAHENDRANAGAR

2008-11-20T21:18:00.000-08:00

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.

LAMAHI

2008-11-15T02:25:00.001-08:00

why I prefer cycling to travelling by bus!

Day 7 cycling: LUMBINI to Bhairawa to Lumbini to Jeetpur
DST = 96.7km; RTM = 6hrs 8 min; AVS = 15.7km/hr; MAX = 37.0km/hr
ODO (i.e overall odometer reading) = 543 km

Not the greatest of days. As I prepared to leave Lumbini, my arithmetic suggested maybe I didn't have enough rupees to make it all the way into India & then head north, as apparently the only money changing at the border & beyond is between NPR and INR. So I started the day by cycling the round trip to Bhairawa & back, and only later thought it might have been smarter to have caught the bus. I then decided it might be nice to cycle via Taulihawa & Tilaurakot - the latter being the historical site of Kapilavastu where Guatama Siddharta reputedly spent the first 29 years of his life. The site is meant to "sit in a peaceful meadow" but unfortunately this was not the case today. Cycling toward the site, I found the road was packed with people, bicycles, motorbikes, cars and the occasional bus - the whole damn town & surrounding villages it seemed - all heading toward the same place. The peaceful meadow had become seething maelstrom of Nepalese, as well as stalls selling food, sideshows, various amusements ... all the fun of the fair. Except it wasn't fun for me & the bike - pressed in from all sides, I soon lost track of what had once been a road, and indeed of just where the hell I was - I had no idea of which way to head, and could see no obvious way out. I confess to becoming a little freaked out at this point - it was worse than Moomba! Eventually, after what seemed forever, I found an area where the crowd began to thin out & a possible escape route ... back to Taulihawa & then taking the road to Jitpur (as per my map) or Jeetpur (as per local signs). Yet another trial lay ahead - the nice bitumen I'd set out on transformed into a dusty, stony, bumpy carriageway for the next 10 km, until agreeably returning to a bitumen road, although not in the best condition. After a neverendingly bumpy, dusty ride I eventually reached Jeetpur having cycled (& walked a little) 97km & feeling exhausted. Initially it apeared there was no accommodation in town, but then I discovered a hotel/restaurant down a laneway. I had a room next to the kitchen & dining area but by this stage I wasn't complaining - at least there was somewhere to wash ... [power failure ... computer crash... fuck!]

Back at Jeetpur: I think I've ordered some fried rice & chai ... Jesus! ... there are frogs hopping around on the restaurant floor - & we're on the first floor!

Day 8 cycling: Jeetpur to Bhalubang
DST = 68.65km; RTM = 4hrs 26 min; AVS = 15.4km/hr; MAX = 46.9km/hr
ODO (i.e overall odometer reading) = 611 km
Flashing, coloured lights surrounding the Hotel's neon sign just outside my room led to a disturbed sleep last night, as did the hammering on the door at 7am .."uh oh ...what's happening....". It was an unrequested wake up call, with a cup of chai. The whole stay, with room, food, chai, water was only 495 NPR. I again breakfasted on a banana & some coconut biscuits & headed off towards .....!? On the way, a Mr Bharat Kumar Shrestha stopped on his motorbike to introduce himself - a Civil Engineer trained in KTM, he explained, and he requested that we meet down the road later in the day for a cup of tea. I met up with him about 30 minutes later as he whizzed past, this time in the opposite direction. He explained that he no longer had time to stop for tea, but gave me 4 juices in cartons as a gift - what a kind fellow, and I can tell you, they were a very welcome drink later in the day. The road suprised me by being quite hilly, making it a little harder going than expected - I'd thought it would be flat, but inspection of the map showed that I was crossing the Dundwa Range. Some hours later ... Hallelujah - the Hamro Hotel at Bhalubang greeted me on the left as I rode into town. The room was on the 3rd floor, and cleanish. Strike activity was happening in town, blocking traffic right outside the Hamro, naturally - hard to know quite what it was about, but vehicles were banked up in both directions, and tooted exuberantly when they were finally allowed to move on.

Hotel sounds, from 5am onwards, as my foggy brain was woken from sleep: water running, doors crashing, talking, shouting, the growling & hawking & gobbing that sounds so much like people are being strangled to death somewhere in the building (but are in fact folk cleaning out their throat & other passageways), music, TV, heavy footsteps up & down the stairs ... and from outside, roosters crowing, the crash of metal roller doors as shops open for the day's business, and of course, the noise of trucks & buses. Throughout the night, in addition to the howling of dogs, the trucks & buses were trumpeting their horns, grinding their gears & noisily braking. At around 7am, various strains of Hindi music can be heard from the street, but within the hotel, things begin to quieten down ...... It had seemed like such a quiet hotel when I first checked in. At 8am, all is relatively quiet again.
...........
After a number of days of hearing no English spoken, you find yourself going a little batty & 'hear' snippets of conversation in English ... eg "I've just spent nine days in Thailand..." one man said to another in the grungy cafe below the hotel (I'm sure he said no such thing) and "I'm having a dinner party" said another. And after many hours of cycling, visual illusions start to occur ... as you near a village, you're sure that's a fine looking guest house ahead, and wait, is that some other western cyclists I see coming towards me?! No, unfortunately. In fact, on a trip like this, on your own, you become acutely aware of how much the mind projects eg.. "omigod, what if that thing thundering in the undergrowth is a tiger ...."; "this looks too steep ..." "I don't think I can go on .." " that food's bound to make me ill..." etc etc ... and how utterly useless it all is. And the associated emotions generated ... Can't stop it, but it pays to just let it go, not buy into it. I like the email analogy: largely, you can't stop what emails arrive in your Inbox but after looking at the headers you have the choice whether to read them or not. Much of our thinking (well, mine anyway) is like junk mail.

Day 9 cycling: Bhalubang to Lamahi
DST = 25.1km; RTM = 1hrs 26min; AVS = 17.2km/hr; MAX = 33.6km/hr
ODO (i.e overall odometer reading) = 637 km
The scenery here is pleasant - you can just see the nearby hills through the smoky haze. It's a rural area, and there are few buses & trucks on the road. As noted, the Nepalese don't tend to have breakfast and so I've had to make do with a cup of tea or chai, supplemented by a banana and a Parle-G milkwheat biscuit - "Worlds Largest Selling Biscuit". They're sold in India so its probably true.

As I'm cycling along, I see a dozen or more European cars, some vintage or veteran, with earnest-looking Europeans at the wheel, boring ahead on the other side of the road. No eye contact is made - they're all too intent on driving - the "Himalaya Trial" I think it was. It highlights my impression of how people in cars & buses tootle along, enclosed in metal bubbles, largely insulated against the outside world. After a short haul today I elected to stop at Lamahi, with the intention of reaching Kohalpur tomorrow. I stayed at the Bhusal Guest House. The owner indicated he had hot water, to which I thought "yeah... sure" - but indeed there was, and so I washed some clothes, myself, my hair and had a shave, and eventually ran out of things I could think to do with hot water. It seemed like well over a week since I encountered hot water anywhere (well, it was warm water really, but I wasn't complaining & it sure was a delight). I was even able to use the internet briefly - until a power cut turned the computer off & I lost much of what I'd written... see above). How pleasant it was to have a lazy day however, off the bike, just sitting around, in some utterly obscure town ...

The electricity supply throughout Nepal is fairly unreliable, although reliable in that it seems to go off most evenings between about 6:30 & 8:30, and intermittently throughout the day. I was watching a ?Fantastic Four movie in one of the few places I've stayed in that had TV - I'll now never know how they sorted it all out with that rogue planet determined to do Earth in.

LUMBINI II

2008-11-12T02:37:00.000-08:00

It's been OK here. The Lumbini Development Zone has representatives from all different countries & styles of Buddhism - there's the snazzy Chinese Monastery, acroos the road from the monstrous Korean yet-to-be-completed concrete Temple, and the extravagantly ornate Lotus Stupa built by a German Buddhist group, as well as a number of others from Sri Lanka, Thailand, Myanmar, Vietnam & so on. I took the opportunity of sitting a couple of times at the Lumbini Vipassana Centre ("Dhamma Janani") in what's called the Eastern Monastic Zone - the caretaker there was most welcoming when I first fronted up & provided me with some sweet black tea, a tasty bowl of meal (millet?) before showing me to the meditation hall where I sat for an hour. Today I visited the museum, which wasn't much chop - everything in it was either a photograph or a replica - nothing original at all. I'm figuring that I'll maybe head off tomorrow, along the Terai via the Mahendra Highway to ... I don't really know, as I'll be off the Lonely Planet map (EVERYONE here is toting around a copy of the Lonely Planet - it really is amazing how this book virtually guides where tourists go & stay. It is somewhat of a comfort of course, but seems mighty weird just how ubiquitous it is).

A slightly annoying occurrence has been that my laptop, USB drive & even camera card have picked up a virus/trojan/ worm that I just can't get rid of - it's started to gum up the laptop & has even locked me out of various components such as task manager & has changed some of my preferences. The computer is still functional thankfully but I'm not sure how many of my photos I'll be able to save at the end of the trip - one of the camera cards seems inaccessible ....

LUMBINI - Birthplace of the Buddha

2008-11-10T06:27:00.000-08:00

On Sunday (9.11.08 - Tansen), after a hefty 'continental breakfast' (= juice, sliced fruit, scrambled eggs, 4 peices of toast, butter & jam, coffee) I thought a walk was in order, so headed off. Before I knew it, and without being conscious of making an actual decision to do so, I found myself on a 15km round trip/walk to a place called Ranighat Durbar (or Palace) - a baroque palace built in the 1890's on the banks of the Kali Gandaki River. What an amzing walk it was... alongside a river for much of the way, past ravines you could not see the bottom of, through waterfalls, past small villages, huge Banyan & Mango trees, and countless Nepalese - and with the Annapurna Range in the far distance - just magical! The palace itself seemed very oddly placed - as if in the middle of nowhere, except that there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of Nepalese there having a day out ... no other Western tourists to be seen, I felt as if I had just stepped in from Mars. It was quite a carnival atmosphere, and various fair-like games were going on - drop a loop on the end of a stick over the neck of a bottle of beer, throw a hoop over a packet of biscuits or a trinket, & they were yours ... All up, the round trip, utterly unplanned, took about 6 or so hours, and it was just getting dark as I returned to Tansen. I figured on staying another night but was told that where I was staying was all booked out by a tour group. I could've moved elsewhere I suppose, but figured I might as well head off the next morning. Tansen is not a very 'happening' place - I'd gone out at 7:15 to have a meal at the place reputed to be the place for "sampling Nepali delights" to find that they were packing up before I'd even quite finished eating, and when I left the building - at 8:30pm - the whole town had closed down.

Day 6 cycling: TANSEN to LUMBINI
DST = 80.9km; RTM = 3hrs 58 min; AVS = 20.3km/hr; MAX = 47.2km/hr
ODO (i.e overall odometer reading) = 438 km

After another hearty 'continental breakfast', I headed out of town - 3.8km back down the hill to the main highway to Butwal. This was an excellent ride - the road surface, except for a few shocking patches, was pretty good, and the ride was mostly downhill or on the flat, and the scenery was surprisingly dramatic - I somehow had expected it to be a bit of an anticlimax after the really mountainous areas I'd cycled through. But no - there were some really stunning, precipitous sections that left me feeling a little nervous, and drawn toward the centre of the road. Cycling too near the edge left me feeling edgy. I also began to remind myself to take it easy - no need to be quite so 'nose down, bum up' about the riding as I can tend toward - the whole point about riding the bike is to take things in, take one's time, stop & sit down & just soak things up ... Butwal was 'bike city' - people on bikes everywhere, a bike lane through the main part of town, and most of the public transport seemed to be 3-wheeler bicycles. The next stretch - Butwal to Bhairawa - was not so pleasant - heaps of traffic & fumes, and I was shocked to realise how flat it had all become - no mountains ahead or to the sides of me. Buddha may have been born in the area but there was little sense of much compassion, tolerance or patience having permeated into this stretch of road. Finally, Lumbini, and the Lumbini Village Lodge, a cheap but pleasant place (except for the mosquitoes) ...

TANSEN

2008-11-08T19:42:00.000-08:00

Day 4 cycling: Pokhara to Galygang
DST = 79km; AVS = 16.2km/hr (estimated)

A minor hassle as I set out from Pokhara - the bike computer battery was flat; I managed to buy a new one on the outskirts of Pokhara, [... this is a Nepali/English keyboard - the comma took ages to find] ... hence had to estimate distances on day 4 riding, although fairly accurate I think. This was a fantastic day's cycling, with the snow-capped peaks of the Annupurna Range to the side for much of the first half of the ride, only to reappear much later as I rode higher & higher. The scenery could be described as stunning, striking, gob-smacking ... every time you rounded a corner a new and surprising panorama opened up. Ahh! This is why cycling is the way to go, although at times the drop to the side was so deep, so profound, and there was so much to take in visually that I could feel myself wobble on the bike as if almost magnetically drawn to just plunge over the edge. Today comprised steady uphill climbs, followed by some very satisfying downhill runs. A quite achievable ride, and nowhere near as tough a day's ride as I'd envisaged. Galyang seemed a good enough place to stop, given the time of day, distance covered, and the fact that the town had a small Hotel & Lodge. The room, at 300 NPR, was adequate, as was the associated restaurant across the road, where I had a dal baht for dinner (rice, lentils, green vege & some pickle & yoghurt, all of which I ate with gusto).

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Day 5 cycling: Galyang to TANSEN
DST = 46.09km; RTM = 3hrs 53 min; AVS = 11.8km/hr; MAX = 39.8km/hr

I made an early start from Galygang, thinking that I'd knock off the last 40 or so km in no time, and be in Tansen for morning tea. It was lovely -no vehicles on the road, although the drop was precipitous on my left hand side. I found myself stopping continuously to take photos of the scenery, while aware that they lack the 3rd dimension that gives this ride such impact. The Nepalese don't seem to do breakfast, so I left just having had a cup of chai & 3 sweet biscuits I had in my bag.

As it turned out, this was a really hard ride pretty much all the way, perhaps exacerbated by my inadequate breakfast, and I found myself struggling to make the last stretch up the hill to Tansen at about 1:30 in the afternoon. I was buggered, and the maze of streets made it a torturous end to the day trying to find suitable accommodation. I eventually checked in to the Hotel The White Lake, quite overpriced at $12 USD per night, but I had little strength to argue the toss with much vigour or to look elsewhere. Their restaurant & the excellent view from the rooftop perhaps compensated a little. My first impression of Tansen hasn't been all that overwhelming but perhaps more delights await me as I explore the town a little more (mind you, I think I saw much of it yesterday as I stumbled about trying to find accommodation.)

POKHARA

2008-11-05T03:24:00.000-08:00

Day 3 cycling: Bandipur to Pokhara
DST = 75.4km; RTM = 4hrs 29 min; AVS = 16.7km/hr; MAX = 51.1km/hr
(NB. Bandipur to Pokhara is a little further than this; the bike & I were obliged to travel several km in a van; see below)

Bandipur is a very pleasant place, with one especially great feature - there is no vehicular access to the main bazaar area, allowing you to amble about without having to always keep part of your mind alert to the possibility of being run over (as per KTM). I had expected the 8km ride back down the hill from Bandipur to rejoin the main Prithvi Highway to be a joy, which initially it was. It was a foggy morning however, making it quite hard to see what was ahead, and the brakes seemed to be slipping due to the dampness. And as the road largely comprised hair-pin bends I found myself braking constantly, to the extent that the rims became red hot from the friction of the brakes on the wheels. Could they become so hot that the tubes could melt, I wondered nervously? Will I wear the brake pads away entirely (I don't have any spares)? Am I worrying excessively? In the event, I descended gingerly, only averaging about 22km/hr & hitting a maximum of 44km/hr. Damauli, the next town, might have "little to recommend it" as the Lonely planet guide seems to unfairly suggest, but the ride into it was certainly sweet. The initial ride from the turnoff was a slow, steady, uphill slog for maybe 8km, but the next 8km was a blissful downhill ride (hitting a maximum of 51km/hr). After some while I began to notice a small problem with my chain, which eventually snapped as I started to pedal uphill about 20km from Pokhara. I rolled back into the town I'd just passed but was met with a shake of the head on enquiring if there were any bike shops around. Happily for me, the fellow I'd asked elected to arrange a lift for me & the bike in a delivery van a few kilometres to the next town, which, fortunately had a bike shop, someone who knew how to fix chains & the requisite equipment - a big metal hammer. Before long it was fixed & I was back on the road. The van driver & the fellow who assisted wouldn't accept payment for their help, but suggested I give the bike shop bloke 25 Rp (about 50 cents) for his work. Their kindness negated the actions of some dickheads a few hours earlier who'd thought it amusing to douse me with water from the roof of a bus as they passed. (The chain doesn't sound quite right anymore as I pedal & I'm not sure why. I'll take some time today to have a good look at it before pushing off south towards Tansen.)

Mysteriously, nearing Pokhara, the road surface began to degenerate and the vehicle fumes seemed to become blacker, whereas the children's English seemd to improve. Now, instead of asking "one rupee" they demanded "give me money" or even simpler: "money!". It was rather horrible.

Despite its problematic aspects, the ride from Mugling to Pokhara was nowhere near as forbidding or steep as I'd for some reason imagined - the road, except for the last stretch into Pokhara, was in pretty good condition, fairly flat in many places, and there were quite a few good downhill runs.

Surprisingly, Pokhara is very full of tourists and I had some trouble finding a room as the first few places I tried were full. I eventually found a room at a place called Hotel Bien Venue, a new & very characterless place. As I tried to take a rest in my room, I was assaulted by the sounds of kids yelling & screaming & people talking loudly, and for some reason sitting outside my room doing this. After boiling inside for a while, I finally lost the plot & stormed outside, giving everyone a rather unpleasant piece of my mind. I'm thinking I must have been feeling a bit tense. For a short while I felt a bit embarrassed about it all ... "well, "Mr Anger Management"... what do you have to say about that!?" ... " This morning I moved to the Hotel Nirvana & am feeling a lot more relaxed. Must be time for some lunch & then a look at that bike chain.

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Hmm. Inspection of the bike chain revealed it had been threaded incorrectly through the derailleur. Thinking to find a local bikeshop that might be able to do it for me, I headed off into the depths of Pokhara only to be advised that there weren't any decent bikeshops in town. But suddenly, 4 Spanish cyclists came cycling toward me, and trusting in the fellowship of cyclists I hailed them & they were able to assist me in effecting the required adjustment.

Bandipur

2008-11-02T22:43:00.000-08:00

KTM - Thursday 30.10.08
I've been doing a little cycling over the past 2 days. Yesterday I rode out to Swayambhunath, a Buddhist temple about 2 kms to the west of Kathmandu. This place is also known as the Monkey Temple due to the many monkeys there, some of them extremely unpleasant & aggressive, exemplified by one who tried, in a sudden startling swoop, to try & snatch my water bottle. I'm sure it was only due to my years of martial arts training that the attack was unsuccessful. Otherwise, it was an interesting enough place to visit, seemingly comprising of both Buddhist & Hindu imagery & architecture.

My plans for today were to cycle to a place called Pashupatinath and then onwards to Bodhnath (or Boudha). The streets in Thamel, the area where I'm staying, are all unnamed; roads further afield are poorly signposted and there are no signs to the obvious tourist sites around the KTM valley. So, despite having both a map & a compass I became hopelessly lost quite soon after leaving Thamel. I eventually reached where I was heading by asking directions of passerbys (the utterly blank stares I encountered at times suggested that my pronunciation skills are perhaps on a par with my navigational skills). But it was when I hit the open roads, away from the traffic & pesky touts & tourists, that I was reminded of the joys of cycling & why I've come on holidays with my bicycle. Ahh, such liberation! ... the open space, the fresh air, the scenery ... (well, for a few minutes, until realising I didn't have the faintest clue where I was...)

Pashupatinath, to paraphrase the Lonely Planet guide, is Nepal's most important Hindu temple & is also a very important Shiva temple which draws in devotees and sadhus from all over India. I am sure that a good number of the flamboyant & extraordinarily decorated 'sadhus' lining up to be photographed by tourists are really just very entrepreneurial beggars.

I eventually found my way to Pashupatinath by trailing behind a slow moving convoy of cars & motorbikes that, I was told when I enquired, was apparently heading there. Some while later I realised that it was actually a funeral procession on its way to a cremation on the banks of the Bagmati River at Pashupatinath. It also turned out that the deceased was a member of the recently-defunct royal family (the new government here abolished the monarchy shortly after coming to power) and so the cremation was a pretty big deal. There are two main cremation areas at Pashupatinath - one section for the common people and another for royalty (who still apparently retain high status despite the fact of their apparent abolition). After a few hours there, wandering about & watching the various stages of the cremation, I managed with some difficulty, and via an unusually long, convoluted & rather bumpy route, to then cycle to Bodhnath (aka Boudha), the site of a huge Buddhist stupa. It was reasonably interesting, with scores of Tibetans circumambulating (clockwise) the stupa while counting beads & mumbling to themselves. The return route to KTM was rather more complicated than I'd have preferred, but I did get to see some parts of the city that I hadn't planned to.

The big thing in KTM at present is the Tihar (or Diwala) festival. It's supposedly the Festival of Lights but could be more aptly named the Festival of Interminable Explosions. The last 3 evenings here have been punctuated by incessant explosions, and during the day there have been sporadic blasts, much like I imagine a war zone would sound like. People are setting off these firecrackers presumably to mark the fact that it's Tihar. Not fireworks (eg skyrockets, colourful displays, etc) but just bangs - sounding like machine gun fire, mortar rounds or hand grenades. Unbelievable!

In stark contrast however, it is astonishingly quiet after midnight until about 6am when a hotel generator starts up, followed by the occasional dog bark, then the birds, and finally people & traffic noise. I've been sleeping extremely soundly.

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Day 1 cycling: KTM to Mugling
DST = 113km; RTM = 6hrs 7 min; AVS = 18.4 km/hr; MAX = 54.7km/hr
I wasn't feeling all that great this morning as I headed out of Thamel. The sore throat was presaging a cold, which has now arrived, albeit a fairly light one. I cycled NW to hit the ring road, then west, then south for about 6 km all up before connecting with the Prithvi Highway - the 206km road to Pokhara. Somewhat to my dismay, I found myself huffing & puffing as I encountered a few slightly steeper parts of the road, which was mostly uphill for the first 15km. Omigod, what will the big hills be like? After this however it was downhill for well over 20km; a tempered exhilaration however and I had my hands on the brakes for most of the way as there were occasional potholes and, the worst hazard of all: not knowing was coming around the corner. As in India, trucks, buses & minivans just love to overtake on blind corners. And when they do, both lanes of the road are taken up, giving you nowhere to go. My maximum speed of nearly 55 km/hr was probably foolhardy, given this, but it did feel fantastic. The road surface was generally very good, and I tended to ride on the shoulder which was much smoother than the main road surface - on my left side, for much of the way, was a ditch, and I kept thinking of that female Chinese cyclist who tumbled into one during the recent olympics. The weather was perfect for cycling - mid-20's, and the scenery was lovely, mostly following alongside various rivers with the occasional snow-topped mountain in the distance. Overall though it was a fairly tough day's cycling, although thankfully Nepali drivers seem to use the horn less than do those in India. I only saw the remnants of two road accidents - the second was a bus lying on its side with a few perplexed blokes standing around with a long piece of cable wondering how they were going to upturn it. A young boy, after asking my name, thoughtfully pointed to a patch on the road, indicating "blood", presumably belonging to one of the victims.

I eventually reached Mugling, at the junction of the Prithvi Highway & the road south to Narayanghat & beyond. It's not a very attractive place & the Machhapuchhare Hotel & Lodge was pretty basic, but cheap at NPR 250. I asked to put my bike in my room (some places in India are very against allowing this) ... which turned out to be on the second floor! No electricity until about 7:30 pm, no hot water & no towel provided, although I got one after asking. It was a noisy place - trucks & buses at first, and then I nearly fell off the bed when some incredibly loud Bollywood-type music started up. Thinking it was coming from the neighbouring room I stormed out to express my displeasure ... to discover it was coming from the street outside. Right out the front of the Machhapuchhare Hotel & Lodge, and onto the highway was a crowd of a hundred or so locals watching what was apparently a sort of disco-dancing competition - first prize: a wrist-watch. Groups of young lads, and then of girls, and then some mixed couples, were dancing between huge loudspeakers as a compere appeared to be trying to keep the crowd interested while awaiting the next group of contestants. I figured that perhaps the reason for the lack of electricity earlier was that they'd been saving it up for this. My dinner that night was some rice and lentils in a local cafe; I thought it wiseer to not eat the cold spinach that had been spooned out from a huge uncovered tub under the counter, as well as a few other cold pre-cooked vegetables that accompanied the hot food.

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Day 2 cycling: Mugling to Bandipur
DST = 33.07km; RTM = 2hrs 48 min; AVS = 11.7 km/hr; MAX = 46.4km/hr. Temp: mid to high 20's
Breakfast was a cup of chai at another cafe, and a few bananas and some coconut-flavoured sweet biscuits. My plan for the day was to cycle to Pokhara, around 100km or so. After maybe an hour's cycling, to my surprise, I saw a couple of cyclists ahead labouring up the hill, one seemingly helping the other along a bit by pushing on their shoulder. It was surprising because I've found it's not often that one encounters other touring cyclists on the road. Even more suprising was the fact that they were towing their young daughter along in a baby trailer. We stopped & had a chat & a coke - they were a French couple on their way to Bandipur, then Pokhara & beyond (they'd not quite decided where). I headed off after a short break only to bump into 2 female Dutch cyclists headed the other way. They also sang the praises of Bandipur, having just come from there, although pointed out that it was a pretty steep 8km road up. Lonely Planet describes Bandipur as ".. a national treasure ... a living museum of Newari culture ... hard to believe that somewhere so delightful has managed to escape the ravages of tourist development." Pretty positive stuff, I thought, so I elected to make the detour. Phew, it was a hot & gruelling ride to the top - at one point, I was cycling at 5km/hr, and just "hit the wall" - dreadful, as a cyclist, to confess that I had to get off the bike a few times & walk (stagger?) - at 4km/hr, this wasn't much different to my cycling speed. (The old tune "I think I can, I think I can .." started to roll about in my thoughts ... followed by: "I don't think I can ..." and finally "fuck it, I just can't") And it's shameful to admit that the one thing that spurred me along, that stayed me from just collapsing on the side of the road, was the thought of the humiliation of being overtaken by the Frenchman lugging his baby trailer along behind him. Such relief, even disbelief, at finally reaching Bandipur! The thing with hills is that you often just can't tell how far you are from the top. I checked into the Bandipur Guest House - a very basic accommodation, but with very good food. The bathroom & toilet is shared, and is little bigger than a telephone box containing a sit-down toilet, with a tap & bucket alongside & a shower head poking out of the wall. Cold water of course, and a good example of why having a pair of thongs to wear (which I don't) is a good idea. There are a few walks about town, and the town itself is low key & pleasant to hang out in.

My initial plan was to plug along to Pokhara today (tempted by the thought of that glorious 8km of road to roll back down) but then thought "bugger it ... there's no rush, and three days of cycling in a row is a bit much, and might as well just take it easy ... I'll leave tomorrow. "

KTM III

2008-10-31T02:32:00.000-07:00

Friday 31.10.08
I woke with a very sore throat this morning; my hunch is that it is the result of cycling through the traffic yesterday. Today I cycled south of KTM to Patan & had a good look around. It was indeed interesting but I think I may have now completed the 'temple tour' part of my journey. I reckon that tomorrow I should 'hit the road' now that I've been 'blooded' into the traffic here. To be honest, it's a little hair-raising in the traffic here, but it should lighten up a tad as I leave the city. And this is predicated on me actually being able to find my way out of town - really, it's not that easy!

What do things cost? Internet at this hotel is 20 NPR (Nepalese Rupees) per hour (= about 37 cents) & it's reasonably fast. A 'standard breakfast' around town is usually about $2 AUD (eggs, toast, butter, jam, fried potato, fried banana (?), coffee), a litre bottle of water is about 35 cents. Lunch eg dhal & rice, coke, coffee usually runs to about $4. The evening meal, depending where you eat, can cost anything up to maybe $16. So, it's all rather cheap (I've had a few extra expenses, like buying another map of Nepal as I left mine at home!). Temples & most tourist sites also cost to visit eg the Patan/ Durbar Square ticket cost 200 NPR {about $3.60), and entry to the museum was 250 NPR (you can work this one out).

KTM II

2008-10-31T02:27:00.000-07:00

Thursday 30.10.08
I've been doing a little cycling over the past 2 days. The day before yesterday I rode out to Swayambhunath, a Buddhist temple about 2 kms to the west of Kathmandu. This place is also known as the Monkey Temple due to the many monkeys there, some of them extremely unpleasant & aggressive, exemplified by one who tried, in a sudden startling swoop, to try & snatch my water bottle. I'm sure it was only due to my years of martial arts training that the attack was unsuccessful. Otherwise, it was an interesting enough place to visit, seemingly comprising of both Buddhist & Hindu imagery & architecture.

My plans for yesterday were to cycle to a place called Pashupatinath and then onwards to Bodhnath (or Boudha). The streets in Thamel, the area where I'm staying, are all unnamed, roads further afield are poorly signposted and there are no signs to the obvious tourist sites around the KTM valley. So, despite having both a map & a compass I became hopelessly lost quite soon after leaving Thamel. I eventually reached where I was heading by asking directions of passers-by (being met by utterly blank stares on occasion suggested that my pronunciation skills are perhaps on a par with my navigational skills). But it was when I hit the open roads, away from the traffic & pesky touts & tourists, that I was reminded of the joys of cycling & why I've come on holidays with my bicycle. Ahh, such liberation! ... the open space, the fresh air, the scenery ... (well, for a few minutes, until realising I didn't have the faintest clue where I was...)

Pashupatinath, to paraphrase the Lonely Planet guide, is Nepal's most important Hindu temple & is also a very important Shiva temple which draws in devotees and sadhus from all over India. I am sure that a good number of the flamboyant & extraordinarily decorated 'sadhus' lining up to be photographed by tourists are really just very entrepreneurial beggars.

I eventually found my way to Pashupatinath by trailing behind a slow moving convoy of cars & motorbikes that, I was told when I enquired, was apparently heading there. Some while later I realised that it was actually a funeral procession on its way to a cremation on the banks of the Bagmati River at Pashupatinath. It also turned out that the deceased was a member of the recently-defunct royal family (the new government here abolished the monarchy shortly after coming to power) and so the cremation was a pretty big deal. There are two main cremation areas at Pashupatinath - one section for the common people and another for royalty (who still apparently retain high status despite the fact of their apparent abolition). After a few hours there, wandering about & watching the various stages of the cremation, I managed with some difficulty, and via an unusually long, convoluted & rather bumpy route, to then cycle to Bodhnath (aka Boudha), the site of a huge Buddhist stupa. It was reasonably interesting, with scores of Tibetans circumambulating (clockwise) the stupa while counting beads & mumbling to themselves. The return route to KTM was rather more complicated than I'd have preferred, but I did get to see some parts of the city that I hadn't planned to.

The big thing in KTM at present is the Tihar (or Diwala) festival. It's supposedly the Festival of Lights but could be more aptly renamed the Festival of Interminable Explosions. The last 3 evenings here have been punctuated by incessant explosions, and during the day there have been sporadic blasts, much like I imagine a war zone would sound like. People are setting off these firecrackers presumably to mark the fact that it's Tihar. Not fireworks (eg skyrockets, colourful displays, etc) but just bangs - sounding like machine gun fire, mortar rounds or hand grenades. Unbelievable!

In stark contrast however, it is astonishingly quiet after midnight until about 6am when a hotel generator starts up, followed by the occasional dog bark, then the birds, and finally people & traffic noise. I've been sleeping extremely soundly.

KTM 1

2008-10-28T04:51:00.000-07:00

well, the most harrowing part of the journey is over - getting here with the bike & panniers largely intact. Checking in at Tullamarine was a breeze - I and the bike were waved straight through, and surprisingly my 15kg bike only weighed 10kg on their scales. I had weight to spare, and could have brought those extra undies along after all. I didn't wrap the bike in plastic (what a dumb idea) but merely let air out of the tyres, removed the pedals & unbolted the handlebars & wheeled it into a large metal cage to be put on the plane.

What was I thinking when I booked a room in Thamel, perhaps the noisiest, most crowded place in the universe? I've been titrating my forays out into the streets, and this morning ventured down to Durbar Square where I had a somewhat cursory look around before returning to the safety of my room. The Square was extremely crowded, with market stalls, tourist guides, phony sadhus, and countless tourists and others. I'm told it's busier than usual as tonight is the start of the Tihar festival (also known as Diwali, festival of lights) which lasts for about 5 days. Everyone seems pretty excited. and there are garlands of flowers everywhere, as well as people setting off some rather large firecrackers. I'm sure that making tourists jump is part of the fun.

And then this afternoon I ventured out onto the roads of KTM on my recently reassembled bike. In some ways this was less oppressive than walking, and I seemed to bump into fewer people. So gradually I'll acclimatise to this place & then hit the road ...

Last night was surprisingly quiet, other than the occasional barking dog, and I slept extremely soundly even though the bed was designed for people much shorter than me. So, after writing this & checking some emails, I'll have some dinner & wander about town for a bit ...

5 days to go ...

2008-10-22T00:45:00.000-07:00

... 5 days before I go & I'm feeling uncommonly jittery & obsessing about minor matters such as ... should I take 4 pairs of undies or 3? I'm pleased that Thai Airways do not insist that I take the bike in a box, although they reckon "... it must be covered by a bag, or something similar" and that "the handle bar must be fixed side ways, tyres deflated & also peddles taken off". I telephoned "Protectabag" at Melbourne airport - they will wrap it in plastic for $35. A daft idea, and of course environmentally unsound, but it will save me a deal of weight & maybe protect the bike a little, and I sort of like the absurdity of it. I thought I'd book a room before leaving and have done so at the Potala Guest house. It must be busy in KTM at present as the first place I tried emailed me back to say they were booked out. The only room left at the Potala GH was "double bed, private facilities" so I took it (US$26 a night - a little more than I was initially planning). Ah, a bed big enough for me and the bike!

2008-06-30T02:20:00.000-07:00

this time, I'm NOT TRAVELLING QANTAS (see below) and I have a new bike - a Surly Long Haul Trucker - which I reckon will be perfect for the job! The Surly has 26" wheels (good for travelling in places like India which retains the Imperial system of measurement), drop-down handlebars which I now prefer to the straight bars, and a steel frame, and is a little lighter than the mountain bike I used for my last trip. No suspension this time, but this shouldn't be a problem.

2008-06-14T23:54:00.000-07:00

So, after 2.5 years I'm planning on returning to India by cycling from Kathmandu, Nepal to Delhi; I'm leaving Melbourne on 26th October '08. My planned route is at: http://www.bikely.com/maps/bike-path/Kathmandu-to-Delhi-via-Pokhara

David & his bike go to India

2006-01-24T05:25:00.000-08:00

By the way, I've rejigged & reposted the blog of my 2006 trip so it can be read in chronological order: http://members.optusnet.com.au/dwillsh/india1.htm

Melbourne II

2005-03-30T22:06:00.000-08:00

I've been back for a little over a week now, and while I feel I've recovered from jet lag, I do continue to feel 'in a funk' - in the sense of a nervous depression - a sort of post-travel blues. It's not that I wish I was still in India - heaven knows, while India is a vast & fascinating place, it can also drive you barmy. I'm not sure I 'love' India, although I'd be keen to return & do some more cycling there (I'd like to cycle further into Rajasthan, and I also fancy cycling from Mumbai to Goa, return). Perhaps 'strong ambivalence' captures how I feel about the place - I both love it & hate it. And it's not that I can't make up my mind - I think it evokes strong feelings in both directions, which is perhaps what attracts me to it. No shades of grey.

I've heard people describe the place as anarchic, but I don't think this is correct. India has an extremely hidebound & conservative culture, as evidenced by, amongst other things, how large a part religion plays in the society, the poor status of women, and the ongoing strength of the caste system. To my mind, chaotic is a more apt description. And a bit of chaos is heavenly - perhaps that's what I'm missing.

I thought I might briefly review how it all went - for my own interest & perhaps for the interest of anyone who's been reading some of this blog or who may be planning a similar journey. My first entry (at http://davidinindia.blogspot.com/2004/12/my-plans-what-i-plan-to-take.html) provided, in somewhat obsessive detail, a list of what I intended to take with me. On the whole, it wasn't a bad list. In particular, though, I didn't take the windcheater, but bought a cheap jacket for use in Mt Abu, after nearly freezing to death on the bus from Rajkot. I also didn't take a sink plug or moisturiser; the latter might have been helpful as my feet, especially heels, became cracked & dried from wearing sandals the whole time. The Dunlop Volleys could well have stayed behind, as could the extra U-bolt lock, 1 padlock & wire cable, plastic spoon, bungy strap, sewing kit, & storage bags. Four pairs of undies was excessive - perhaps reflecting my slight nervousness as I packed; three pairs is certainly plenty. I didn't need the first aid kit or spokes but would probably take them again. I took an extra pair of long pants, and would do so again, to wear while the other pair were being washed. The laptop? It was a little daft to lug this around, especially as it enabled me to download photos onto it & preview them, with the result that I took over 3000 snaps. Still, I'd seriously consider taking it again next time, as it was good on several occasions to be able to listen to music & even to watch a few episodes of Seinfeld that I'd not seen. I also had some maps on it, my instruction booklets for the camera and bike, instructions on how to remedy various bicycle problems and various other bits & pieces. Having the day & date on it also helped keep me orientated.

Other than one self-induced sequence of flat tyres (in Mt Abu), I had no bicycle problems (well, that's if I don't count the twiddling & adjusting, by locals, of various knobs & levers on the bike whenever I was unable to keep it in my room). I think the MTB was probably a better bike for Indian conditions that the hybrid bike I took in 2000. Perhaps not quite as fast, but it seemed more robust, especially with the wider & sturdier tyres.

So, what stood out? I particularly liked cycling in Rajasthan - especially the roads to Ranakpur & Kumbhalgarh, even though they were a little steep in parts. They were interesting, with very little traffic & quite reasonable road surfaces for most of the way. I was very impressed by the fort at Kumbhalgarh, and by the baolis - step-wells - at Uperkot Fort in Junagadh, especially the Navaghan Kuva, which was just stupendous. The best restaurants were probably those at the House of MG in Ahmedabad - Agashiye upstairs & the Green House downstairs, although the buffet at Lake Palace Hotel, Udaipur, was most impressive, and very tasty. I also enjoyed the kabab at Bade Miya, an evening street stall in Mumbai.

I found Ahmedabad (Amdavad) to be one of the more deceptively interesting places I visited - by this I mean that on first impression it seemed like a noisy, dusty, boring city, but further inspection revealed a fascinating city with lots to see & do, including eating at the aforementioned restaurants. I also really liked Junagadh, and the climb up Girnar Hill, despite the fact that I could barely walk for the next few days. Udaipur was magical, even without any water in its lakes, and I'd like to return there should they ever fill up again. Diu was a delightfully laid-back island, with some pleasantly deserted beaches, and I did enjoy my brief stay at Palace Utelia in Lothal, despite it being "ridiculously overpriced", according to the Lonely Planet Guide.

One of the best managed hotels, from a tourist's point of view, was in Daman, at the Hotel Gurukripa. It was about Rp 700 a night (about $16 USD) - not cheap - but had all the small touches that were just great for a weary, grubby, dusty cyclist - shampoo, soap, toilet paper, several towels, even little sponges to clean shoes & sandals with, and a pair of bathroom scales so that I could see how much weight I'd lost.

I should note that while I often tended to stay in mid-range rather than budget accommodation, many of the budget places I saw or stayed in were perfectly adequate (and conversely, a number of the mid-range places were pretty awful). In Udaipur for example, two people I spent time with, John & Marianne, were staying at Lal Ghat Guest House, which seemed pretty good to me, and somewhat cheaper than where I'd elected to stay. My reason for staying in mid-range places was that after 5 or 6 hours on the road, I really welcomed a bit of (relative) luxury - hot water/ shower, towel, a good bed, and easy access to a meal.

People have asked me about what dangers I encountered, questioned my sanity, called me intrepid & adventurous amongst other things & wondered how I could do something like this, especially on my own. While I'd admit to feeling nervous at times (eg prior to leaving Australia, and to cycling out of Mumbai & Nasik), the fact is that it was surprisingly straightforward. There's little or no requirement to be particularly fit - this begins to happen after a few days on the road - accommodation is easy to find, and the roads & traffic conditions are not really all that much worse than those in South India, or in Melbourne for that matter (well, I guess we don't have so many goats or cows on our roads, and people here do tend to look before they pull out into traffic or cross the road). It can get quite lonely at times, but this is manageable. Writing the weblog, checking emails, planning the next day's cycling, occasional phone calls to Australia and staring with desperate, glazed eyes at the wall all helped. There were a few times when I was daunted by what lay ahead e.g. cycling back up the hill from Ranakpur - from the "remote, plunging wooded valley, reached down a twisting road..." (LP guide), but in fact it was no big deal, once I decided to put my head down, bum up (a good cycling pose) & just do it. I hate to say it, but the Nike phrase, while being a bit simplistic, makes good sense.

I may well rejig this blog at some point into a website, including a selection from my 3000+ photos, as the reverse chronological order that Blogger uses is a little cumbersome to negotiate. To this end, I have been involved in some delicate negotiations with my good friend Mr Felix & his pal Mr Pumpy (see Mr Felix's Cycling Asia Blog and Biking Southeast Asia with Mr Pumpy!) about possibly having some sort of link with the Mr Pumpy site. We'll see.

map of the trip

2005-03-30T17:14:00.000-08:00

here's a map of where I cycled ...

Melbourne

2005-03-17T18:01:00.000-08:00

It was a pleasant enough flight from Mumbai to Melbourne, although I was still smarting over the $60 excess baggage charge that Qantas stung me with in Mumbai. My bike-in-a-box (i.e bike, locks, tools & a few clothes) weighed in at 27kg, which I was informed was 2kg over the allowable 25kg & that they had been directed by the Sydney office to charge for anything over this.

I guess it's labouring the point to note that my box weighed 2.5kg. Still, it's hard to see how a similar cycling venture is viable with airlines that insist on a box. I guess not taking the extra lock & the laptop would trim overall weight by this amount.

I'm still adjusting to the cool weather here in Melbourne (it's about 20'C here at 1pm, compared to mid-30's in Mumbai), the 5.5 hour time difference, and the lack of Indians.

Mumbai II

2005-03-15T00:46:00.000-08:00

I can feel myself staring to wind down (or up) as my time in India comes to an end. I've spent the last few days cycling around Mumbai, taking in a few of the sights eg. Falkland St, the laundry guys near Mahalaxmi Railway station. On one of my forays out into the city, near a cricket ground across from the Chowpatty seaface, I spotted some bicycles with gears & two Westerners standing near them. "Other cyclists", I thought with excitement, as I've not met or seen any others on the trip. They turned out to be a pleasant young Australian couple who are working aboard the cruise ship Oriana as photographers. They've taken bicycles with them, and cycle around the various cities they stop in. It was good to chat with them; they are contemplating doing some cycling in a yet-to-be-decided country or countries.

Mumbai is a colossal & at times chaotic city, and cycling around it feels nearly as dangerous as cycling in Melbourne. Being a tourist, the 'hassle' factor is fairly high here. It does amuse me when some of the dodgiest-looking people you are ever likely to meet sidle up to you in the street and mutter "change money?". You would have to either have a total lack of judgement or be totally insane to even contemplate taking up their offer.

The other thing I've been doing is sorting out a fucking cardboard box for the bicycle. A telephone call to the Qantas office here revealed that, yes, they do insist on the bicycle being in a box, but no, they weren't able to supply one or suggest where to get one. Luckily the Indians are intrepid folk, and a worker in the hotel I'm staying in was able to find me a old refrigerator box. I'll be spending this afternoon cutting & remodelling it into a bicycle box. What a pain. So, words of advice to myself & other intending cyclists - DON'T TRAVEL QANTAS if you plan to take your bicycle. Most south-east asian airlines (eg Garuda, Malaysian, etc) are much more relaxed about this, and let you more or less wheel your bike aboard.

Mumbai

2005-03-12T05:18:00.000-08:00

Back in Mumbai after 2.5 months - seems less overwhelming now having been travelling around India on my bike.

Yesterday, while still in Udaipur, I cycled to the Monsoon Palace, atop a nearby hill. It was a tough ride (return trip from Lal Ghat 15.9 km; average speed 12.66, but maximum speed back down the hill was 48 km/hr. Fabulous!). The Palace is not all that spectacular, but the view from the top makes it a worthwhile cycle.

The bus trip here from Udaipur was not very pleasant. The ticket was Rp 500 for me & Rp 100 for the bike, which travelled on the roof. And frankly, I wouldn't have minded swapping places. I had a sleeping compartment which was really like a big sardine tin ... I even found myself for some of the journey imagining that I'd died (which would have been a sweet release) & was being transported to Mumbai in a coffin. What was odd was that when I first got in & lay down I seemed to fit OK lengthwise ... I certainly didn't several hours later. I began to wonder if I was in one of those rooms in the old horror movies that slowly closes in, squashing its victim. Then I began to wonder if I was expanding! Around about this time I realised that I was slowly losing my mind in this perversely-named deluxe sleeping compartment.

Still, both I & my bicycle are here largely in one piece. We're (see how attached I've become to it ... I'm not sure how it feels about me though) here for a few more days, during which I'll poke around Mumbai on foot & by bike. I also need to find or make a big cardboard box to put the bike in for the journey home, to satisfy Qantas' absurd rules.

Today I saw the caves on Elephanta island, which all relate to the god Shiva. I thought they were well worth seeing, despite the annoying demand to pay 25 times what Indian residents pay to see the caves (Rp 250 vs Rp10).

Kumbhalgarh

2005-03-09T22:26:00.000-08:00

Day 22 cycling: Ranakpur to Kumbhalgarh
Distance: 53.34 km
Ride time: 4:38 hrs
Average Speed: 12.14 km/hr
Maximum speed: 50.4 km/hr
Total cycled: 2022 km
Total between towns: 1822 km

It took little less than 2 hours to get to the top of the hill out of Ranakpur, where a Hindu temple stands (about 19km from where I stayed). As I left my accommodation and began the day's cycling, a dog suddenly made towards me. Thankfully he didn't bite into me, as I at first feared, but merely began trotting alongside me - and did so for the next 13 km (which shows how fast I was travelling). My next reaction at him follwoing me was an echo of the irritation that I'd developed from the "one pen" kids who followed alongside, but then I figured the dog couldn't have been expecting much of me. I then began to think (cycling does strange things to your psyche) as the hill became steeper & I began to huff & puff a bit harder that "perhaps he knows I'm gonna die up here & he's tagging along for the meal" (I'd seen some dogs ripping into a bull carcase the previous day). He finally disappeared after it started to rain. Fair-weather friend.

Unbelievably, it began to rain really heavily on the way, and I sheltered for a time under a tractor trailer at the invitation of the driver & his colleague. There were even a few hailstones falling for a time. Thankfully it was fairly short lived & I finally made it to Kumbhalgarh, while singing at times "it's raining in Rajasthan ..." . It was an excellent ride, although hard in parts, and I made 2 milestones - the fastest downhill ride of the trip (50.4 km/hr) and breaking the 2000 km mark. It was predominantly a rural area, and I found it to be one of the more interesting rides this trip. There was so little traffic & so few signs of any sort that for some time I thought that I'd taken a wrong turn.

I stayed at Hotel Khumbal Castle, quite close to the fort, which was expensive at Rp 1000 (cheaper accommodation was in the town of Kelwara, down the hill a few kilometers, but I didn't fancy making my way back up the road to see the fort, which I hoped to do straight away). It was comfortable enough, and had a great view out the window. The fort itself was impressive & probably worth the cycle there.

Unfortunately during the night I awoke with "gastrointestinal problems" that I felt precluded me from cycling the final leg back to Udaipur (about 80km) and so I did the unforgiveable, for a cyclist, and hired a jeep to take me & my bicycle back here. It was interesting to muse on the difference between travelling by bicycle & by jeep (and I did enjoy seeing that even it was forced onto the shoulder several times by oncoming buses). Obviously the jeep is much faster, and so serves a purpose if you want to get from A to B quickly. On the other hand, it felt much more insulated from what was happening outside, and no-one waved or said hello (or, it must be said, cried out "one pen"). It was like being in a bubble. You still are on a bicycle, I reckon, but it's a much more slow moving bubble & it's a little easier to stop & look at things that grab your attention.

So, I've bought a bus ticket back to Mumbai, leaving tomorrow at 3pm. Less than a week & I'll be leaving India.

Ranakpur

2005-03-09T21:40:00.000-08:00

Day 21 cycling: Udaipur to Ranakpur
Distance: 102.88 km
Ride time: 6:27 hrs
Average Speed: 16.31 km/hr
Maximum speed: 49.1 km/hr
Total cycled: 1969 km
Between towns distance: 1769

It was good to get back on the bicycle after a week's R&R in Udaipur. It actually rained last night in Udaipur, and occasional drops fell on me as I cycled, taking the edge off the heat. I really enjoyed the ride & the scenery on the way, despite some hilly bits. The first part of the journey to Gogunda was along the same stretch of road that I cycled into Udaipur. The last 15km was largely downhill, as Ranakpur is tucked away in a wooded valley. The Jain temples were good to see, but I'm not sure that they were worth a 100km cycle, especially as I'd already seen and been impressed by those at Delwara (Mt Abu) and elsewhere. I stayed at the relatively lavish Ranakpura Hill Resort for 2 nights, after having managed to beat them down to Rp 700 for a quite nice room. They even had a swimming pool, which I sat alongside for an hour or so trying to even up my odd cyclists' suntan.

But SOMEONE GET THESE PEOPLE A PEN!!
People were very friendly, waving, smiling and calling out, but the kids became exceptionally tiresome after a while, with their "one pen, one pen!" cries (and the occasional "one rupee!" and even a "shampoo!"?). The children will see you coming from the top of a hill, and start screaming like banshees as they hurtle down shrieking "one pen, one pen". At first I thought I was mishearing; that perhaps it was Hindi for "welcome, stranger on a bike, to our village", but the outstretched hand, the occasional tugging at the bicycle, and even running behind me for several minutes with hand outstretched dispelled that thought. Several times I cycled past obviously better bred children who would calmly, with one hand behind their back & the other imperiously outstretched, request "one pen". And this occurred almost the entire way from Gogunda to Ranakpur (and to Khumbalgarh). People who know me will know I'm not a cynical man, but I did begin to wonder if the delightful "bye, bye" that many people said as I cycled past was not perhaps "buy, buy".

Udaipur III

2005-03-04T20:04:00.000-08:00

I'm still here in Udaipur after nearly a week, soaking up some relaxation & time not on the bicycle. I can become a bit driven & so it's been good to just stop for a while - not that a week is all that long. My plan is to cycle to Ranakpur tomorrow, about 90km to the north of here, and then a little further north to Kumbhalgarh to do some sightseeing (Jain temple, fort, etc.) I'll most likely return to Udaipur for a day & then get a bus from here to Mumbai where I'll hang out & explore the place by bicycle for a few days before departing.

I have enjoyed Udaipur though, enhanced by having met Marianne, a Swiss woman, and John, an Australian, who curiously lives fairly close to me in Melbourne. It's been good to eat out, walk about & generally hang out with someone who enjoys these things.

Udaipur II

2005-03-02T05:08:00.000-08:00

Udaipur, known by some as "City of Lakes" or "Venice of the East", is struggling at present with the fact that its lakes have been dry for at least the past year. Apparently it's been many years since things have been as dry. Still, it's a pretty interesting place to spend some time in. At first I felt quite dispirited at how 'touristy' it is, in that there are more western tourists & tourist infrastructure here than anywhere else I've been in India this trip (without forgetting that I'm also one, of course). So, leaping wholeheartedly in, I had an 'Aruyvedic' massage out the back of a local barbershop (Millenium) for an hour (cost: Rp 400, which seems fairly standard around here. It was reasonable, but I'm not keen on the coconut oil residue that sticks around for the next day or so. Then, the next day I had a massage from Raju, who runs the Bharti Guest House, Restaurant & Massage Centre in Hotel Lake Pichola Road. It was a very strong massage, which I like, and he employed some unusual techniques. I was briefly alarmed when he removed his own trousers, but thankfully he put on some shorts, and was again startled when he sat astride me to commence the massage, especially as the hairs on his legs were rather prickly. His approach was thorough & professional, and I may well have another before I leave here. At Rp 1050 however, it was extraordinarily expensive by Indian standards.

Yesterday was the time for a big treat, and so I went and had lunch at the Lake Palace Hotel, a 5-star luxury hotel in the the Lake Palace, built in 1754. It's in the middle of the lake, usually surrounded by water. You're taken to the hotel by boat. Lunch is a buffet comprising soup, salads, a dozen or so veg and non-veg dishes and perhaps half-a-dozen different deserts (cost: Rp 1200). Sometimes buffets can be a bit pedestrian, but this food was delicious, and we were there for several hours. Later we managed to have a look at some of the rooms by the man in charge of housekeeping there. The rooms, at over $300 a night, were wonderful.

Udaipur

2005-02-27T03:41:00.000-08:00

Day 20 cycling: Gogunda to Udaipur
Distance: 46.34km
Ride time: 3:01 hrs
Average Speed: 15.95 km/hr
Maximum speed: 42.8 km/hr
Total cycled: 1866 km

It was nice getting up with the realisation that I only had a little over 40km to cycle. It can feel quite a pressure when you know you have a 100km day ahead of you, especially when you have no idea how the road will be. I had a relaxed breakfast before heading off (mind you, if the sounds of hawking & gobbing in the morning are 'off-putting', the sounds of them emanating from the kitchen are especially so).

The road was undulating with some steep parts. Despite this, it was a very pleasant ride. Very rocky, with some amazingly long stone fences snaking across the hillsides. The people seemed extremely friendly, waving & smiling & saying 'hello' or 'bye', and children would coming running up to me from all directions, invariably, and annoyingly, with hands outstretched, demanding, very specifically, "one pen" or "ten rupees". Luckily they didn't know what a kindly spoken "fuck off" meant. But generally, the friendliness was extraordinary. I felt like how the Queen must feel with all the waving she encounters & in turn is expected to return - sweet, but a bit of drag after a few hours, and there's always the risk of falling off my bike as I do so. One kind gentleman even offered to push me & my bike up one of the steeper hills with his outstretched leg from his motorbike. I thanked him but declined this unsafe-sounding offer. The nice part about struggling up these undulations is that you get to hurtle down the other side at great speed, singing "what goes up must come down, spinning wheel ...". I was also struck by how many westerners - either singly or in pairs - were driving past as passengers in Ambassadors & other cars, probably on the way to Mt Abu. Always a hoot to watch them gawp when they see me cycling along.

I've checked into the Hotel Caravanserai. A clean & simple room, good value for Rp 400, with a fantastic view of Udaipur from the rooftop.

Gogunda

2005-02-27T02:52:00.000-08:00

Day 19 cycling: Mt Abu to Gogunda
Distance: 107.75 km (plus 23 km in a jeep)
Ride time: 6:54
Average Speed: 16.24 km/hr
Maximum speed: 45.0 km/hr
Total cycled: 1819 km

Mount Abu is a charming town, with a sense of spaciousness and (relative) quiet, enhanced by the lack of autorickshaws & dogs. Touristy, for both foreign & Indian tourists, in that there are numerous hotels & restaurants, but now is a relatively quiet time of year. While there were quite a few western tourists about, there are no obvious western tourist 'hangouts', so again I found meeting other travellers difficult. A very hilly, treed area, with many old, interesting-looking mansions dotted around. I quite liked Arbuda restaurant - a large place that for some reason isn't listed in the LP guide.

As noted earlier, I had a shirt copied by TRILOK CHAND TAILOR, near the Union Bank of India. They did a pretty good job. I liked their motto: "Be holly - Be yogi".

I headed off, somewhat tentatively in the direction of Udaipur - I felt a slight insecurity for the first time about my bicycle, or more specifically about the tyres/tubes, given the troubles I had the previous day. The tube hadn't deflated overnight, so I figured it was probably OK to head off into the relative unknown. Unknown becaus ethe Lonely Planet Road Atlas is actually not all that accurate, I'm coming to realise. A local map of Rajasthan show roads that the LP doesn't - fairly critical for the ride to Udaipur from Mt Abu. The ride down Mt Abu was fabulous. The scenery was great - at times even reminded me of the Great Ocean Road in Victoria, except for the troops of monkeys at various spots down the mountainside. I only hit a maximum of about 40km/hr however, as there were many curves & the road, while being pretty good, did have some hard-to-see bumpy spots.

I took the first left at the bottom of the hill as advised, and headed toward the town of Pindwara, one of two towns on the way to Udaipur that apparently had accommodation. This leg, to Pindwara, was about 80 km from Mt Abu, and comprised both flat & fairly undulating sections. I'd not reckoned on how desolate the road would be, and in the heat quite quickly ran out of water. Coming across a police post in the middle of nowhere I was able, after a halting conversation with the policeman on duty (I think he was; he seemed to be in his underwear), to pump some bore water into my bottle. Being the colour of weak tea, I added a water purifying tablet just in case. The resulting mix tasted awful, and some difficult arithmetic arose between becoming dehydrated & throwing up.

After cycling about 107km, with another 23km to Gogunda, the only other town with accommodation, I was utterly exhausted, and managed to secure a lift in a jeep with 2 blokes. We agreed on Rp 100, but half way there they tried upping this to Rp 200, taking advantage presumably of how buggered & yet grateful I looked (especially as they did all the heavy work of putting the bike on the roof). The silly thing was that I'd already decided I'd give them Rp 150, which is what I ended up giving them.

I stayed in a room attached to the Jai Shree Govind restaurant - not very flash, but like nirvana to me at 6pm, after nearly 9 hours on the road. It was quiet - no early morning traffic & no amplified noise at 6am from local temples.

Mt Abu IV

2005-02-25T00:43:00.000-08:00

Disaster! I was all keyed up & ready to hit the road to Udaipur this morning, but a bicycle problem has delayed this. As part of preparing the bike last night I thought I would just put a little more air in the tyres, even though they didn't really need it. As a consequence, goodness knows how, it resulted in my rear tube stuffing up - the valve came apart from the tube. After much effort (the bloody tyre beading is really tight) I fitted my spare tube, only to damage this in the process with the tyre levers, as I discovered this morning when about to pedal off - the tyre was flat. Hours later, and with the assistance of several blokes from a motorbike shop I managed finally, I hope, to have some success in getting the tyre to remain inflated (the American no-glue patches just wouldn't stick properly). Happily I managed to remain reasonably upbeat about it all, although there were several flashes of dread ("oh no!", "what am I going to do?", "how will I continue my travels?", "what if it can't be fixed?" etc.) as obtaining a replacement tube in Mt Abu is not possible.

Yesterday I had the most amazing hairdressing experience. My beard was getting a bit long so I thought I'd get a trim at the local barbershop - a small shed with 4 chairs & 4 hairdressers. I was ushered into the corner chair & the barber began his work. After largely finishing the beard he asked if I wanted "the blade" applied to those parts of my face that I shave. I could hear the bristles crunching as he scythed his way through the stubble. He then asked if I wanted a face massage. When I said "yes, why not", he produced an electrical appliance that looked suspiciously like an orbital sander, although thankfully the disc was smooth rather than made of sandpaper, and applied it to my face, along with various creams, lotions & sprays. The noise & vibration in concert was an extraordinary, even indescribable, experience, especially when he applied it to my ears. He then asked if I wanted a head massage - "yes", I weakly replied - and he proceeded to beat a rythym out on my head with cupped hands (the resulting concussion is probably what led me to damage my bike tubes last night) and squeeze it hard - as you would if you wanted to know how much air there was in a football. The whole process was extremely invigorating. I was tempted to ask if he did buttocks also, but wasn't confident that he'd quite know what I was asking him for. All this cost Rp 60 - less than $2 AUD. I'm gonna have this done again - perhaps I'll try a haircut next.

So as I wandered Mt Abu this afternoon with a day to kill, I was approached by a tailor whose request to visit his shop I had declined yesterday. He's agreed to make me a duplicate of one of my 2 shirts that's nearly worn out (in fact, a number of things I brought are starting to wear out or have broken), and reverse the worn-out collar on the existing shirt, by 8pm tonight, and all for a very reasonable price (Rp 350). Good for him, good for me.

Mt Abu III

2005-02-24T02:43:00.000-08:00

Today I cycled to Mt Abu sanctuary. A sign there proclaimed that in 2001 there were 40 panthers, 108 sloth bears, 46 hyenas, 185 jackals, 85 wild boar, 44 pocupines, 2 wolves, 63 jugle cats, 393 peacocks & 7 crocodiles. Unfortunately I didn't see any of them during my visit, but with the number of Australian eucalypts in the sanctuary I was half-expecting a few koalas to make an appearance. From the tremendous variety of animal shit on the ground, however, there clearly were plenty of animals lurking about. Perhaps the best part of the visit was the experience, for a time, of quiteness - a rare commodity in India. What is it about so many Indians & their apparent intolerance of silence? Surprising in the country that presumably invented meditation. While I was in the sanctuary, a 4-wheel drive load of Indian folk (8 of them) arrived. The noise! (and this despite signs everywhere saying keep it quiet). Then another driver arrived & started doing some car maintenance, banging away with a hammer!

I'll leave for Udaipur tomorrow morning - by bicycle. I was briefly contemplating catching the bus again, having been put off by someone I asked who described the route as being "hills ... a tribal area ... no accommodation". However someone else, who seemed more knowledgeable (I hope) assured me that there was indeed accommodation on the way (it's somewhere between 153 & 180 km - a little too far to make in one day, especially with hills on the way). I am looking forward to whizzing down Mt Abu for 27km!

Mt Abu II

2005-02-23T03:14:00.000-08:00

My first night in Mount Abu was a suprising one - so quiet, and I slept like a log (well, until 7am when a local restaurant turned on & cranked up the music). I woke up at one stage & didn't know where I was it was so quiet. Thinking it would help orient me to the place, I did a bus tour of Mt Abu. The tour was OK, except that it was all conducted in Hindi - like the old comedy sketch, where the guide says to me in English "Mt Shrikar, 5231 feet in height" and then speaks in Hindi to the rest of the passengers for 10 minutes, presumably about the same thing. The Dilwara temples, with their incredible & delicately carved marble were especially impressive, and the view from the top of the mountain was also striking.

I was hanging out to eat some meat - having been in the predominantly vegetarian state of Gujurat for a fair time - so went to one of the more expensive places in town - Mayur Restaurant, at Hotel Hillock. I, along with a bus load of German tourists & a number of presumably well-off Indians, ate heartily, for, in my case, the relatively large sum of Rp 432. I devoured dal shorba (soup), sweet lassi, coca-cola, murgh hara masala, naan, rice, gulab jamun with ice-cream, and still felt OK the next day. Amusing to note on the way back to my hotel that two hotels here are named Hotel Hiltone & Hotel Sheratone respectively.

I haven't read as much this trip as I thought I might, but two books that really stand out are Enduring Love by Ian McEwan (he is an excellent writer, with some wonderful insights & skill in how he writes about them) and the Wasp Factory by Iain Banks - a very perverse & enthralling book. The reliable Reginald Hill writes the Dalziel & Pascoe books, which are always a good read - they're crime novels, but intelligent ones. I've not seen any bookshops in India yet, but am perhaps not looking in the right places. I did think I'd use my laptop, on which I've numerous 'e-books' but it's a bit cumbersome to use in bed especially because it heats up quite dramatically after about 30 minutes & I don't want to use it in public, for fear of the crowds it would draw & the possibility of it being pinched. The bike is enough to have to manage.

Today I caught up with my old school chum Charlie, who's been involved with a group called Brahma Kumaris for over 30 years. The organisation teaches the Raja Yoga meditation technique and runs other courses & workshops. Mount Abu is their world headquarters; they claim over 6000 centres in 84 countries. Nevertheless, I expected it to comprise a few old buildings with some handouts for people interestd in what they do. In fact, the magnitude of the organisation & its facilities here are staggering. They have a "Universal Peace Hall" in Mount Abu that seats 3,000 people, while the hall in Abu Road ("Diamond Hall"), used for conferences, etc., seats 20,000 people! Gyan Sarover, where Charlie is staying, is a huge educational & residential complex. They also have a "Global Hospital & Research Centre" here, and a regular shuttle bus service runs between the 3 centres & Mount Abu township. There are folk everywhere, dressed in white, who are here to study at their 'Spiritual University'. Charlie introduced me to one of the BK people, Jenna, a delightful woman, who gave me a run down on their approach. Interesting, but the BK way is not quite my cup of tea.

Mt Abu

2005-02-19T23:15:00.000-08:00

Distance by bus: Rajkot to Mount Abu - approximately 430 km
Time: 9.5 hours
Cost: from Rajkot to Abu Road - Rp 220 + Rp 100 for the bicycle

The bus arrived at the offices of Shrinath Travel at about 7pm, & so I somewhat nervously handed over my bike to be tied to the roof of the bus. It looked a long way up & there were heaps of other boxes & baggage being thrown up as well. (In 2000, my bike was badly damaged on a train between Kochi/Fort Cochin and the aptly named Managalore - the rear derailleur was damaged beyond my capacity to repair it & beyond that of Jyoti Cycles - the main bike shop in Mangalore. They weren't really familiar with gears & so were going to hit them with a big hammer, until I shrieked "no!" They were kind, however, in not wanting to charge me anything, and their efforts did enable me to be able to make slight gear changes with some struggle.) However I'm happy to report that it arrived safely at Abu Road. I, however, was in pretty bad shape when we arrived at 5am. It was unbelievably cold, and the bus seat was murder on my tender cyclist's buttocks. I was so cold, shivering uncontrollably in fact, and had hardly slept, that I decided not to cycle the 27km to Mount Abu from Abu Road, and caught a local bus.

Abu Road has a spacious and relaxed feel to it, and there seems to be an absence of the hideous traffic that blights much of India. I've checked into a relatively plush place - the Samrat International - but I feel the need for some comfort at present.

Rajkot

2005-02-19T22:25:00.000-08:00

Day 18 cycling: Junagadh to Rajkot
Distance: 105.44 km
Ride time: 6:11
Average Speed: 17.33 km/hr
Maximum speed: 28.7 km/hr
Total cycled: 1697 km
Total between towns: 1512 km

The road surface was, on the whole, good, but the wind & traffic conspired to make it awkward. The last 30 km was a dual-lane divided highway. Interestingly, while I was still hobbling around, struggling to walk after my punishing hike up Girnar Hill & back, I had no difficulties with cycling - different muscles I guess.

I've now cycled a similar distance to my journey through South India in 2000 & for as many days. The main difference this time is that I've had no bike trouble whatsoever - in fact, I've only pumped some more air into the tyres once. In 2000, I incurred numerous flats, due to thorns, and my rear tyre had begun to perish. It was a little hotter then, and it rained several times. I have a mountain bike this time rather than my hybrid cycle (the worst of both worlds?), mainly because a 26" wheel is more convenient in India than a 700cc one, in terms of possible replacements, and I think it's a little more robust, as are the tyres.

The reactions from other travellers on hearing that you're cycling in India tend to be:
(i) they tell you you're mad (i.e dismiss you)
(ii) tell you about someone they know who's doing something even more extreme (eg "well, a bloke I know is walking cross India...") (i.e top you)
(iii) put themselves down (i.e "you're really seeing India ...")
Sometimes people enquire about the experience...

In Rajkot I stayed at the Hotel RR Palace. It was a bit of a drag that they didn't seem to provide breakfast and so I had to trek off to find somewhere to eat. I guess I've become spoilt. From the front desk of the Hotel RR, I rang the travel agent that people in Junagadh had suggested, to get a bus to Mt Abu (it's with great embarrassment that I write this, as it challenges my own purist notion of being a cyclist. Still, it's much too far to cycle in the available time - I want to be there in the next few days). The person who answered said there was a bus at 10.30pm that night - I was pleased, & said I wanted a ticket. Ah, but it's cancelled, they told me. Well, how about tomorrow night? "Cancelled also" The next night? "Cancelled" ... Oh no! They suggested another place, and I rang it. Yes, they had a bus leaving at 7.30pm (yippee!), but it only went to Abu Road, about 27km short of Mount Abu. They asked me the number of where I was staying. I began "221 ..". they said "321..?". I said "no, 221...". They said "231..?". I said "no, 2214...". They said "2213 ..?" I said "FUCK!!!". I think I must have been a little keyed up. At this point the hotel guy took over & gave the number. I went for a walk.

I didn't much like Rajkot, and was glad to leave, which I did at 7.30pm that evening.

Junagadh III

2005-02-19T22:03:00.000-08:00

While in Junagadh I visited some of the other sights - the Arurvedic Research Institute & Museum was not very inspiring. As far as I could see, the place mainly comprised a collection of dusty bottles containing even dustier twigs, leaves and sundry other vegetable matter, in different sections eg for hiccups, angina, etc and a few old posters. However the comments in the Visitors' Book were all very glowing so perhaps I missed something. The Durbar Hall museum was of modest interest - it contained some weapons, portraits of various nawabs, chandeliers, chairs, howdahs and palanquins. The Zoo and Museum weren't much chop, although there are far worse zoos in India than this one. However, I really quite liked Junagadh, despite the shortcomings of some of its sights.

I might also note the typical process for changing travellers cheques at a bank, because once you get past the frustration it really is quite amusing. Today, as I entered the Bank of India a staff member approached & asked what I wanted. He then checked I had my passport and marched me up to a man sitting at a desk, directing me to "sit here". The man scrutinised my passport, then had me sign the TC and the back of a form. He then filled out 3 forms and made entries in 2 books or ledgers. Then he, I, the books & forms proceeded to another man who double-checked everything. When this was OK, the very first man took me and some of the paperwork to a teller who paid me. In some banks you get given a token after the paperwork is completed, and then you sit & wait until the number is called.

Junagadh II

2005-02-16T02:45:00.000-08:00

Contrary to the views of two Australians, John & his daughter Vivienne, whom I met in Sasan Gir, I quite like Junagadh. While it's noisy & dusty, it's also a small enough town to be able to get to most places by walking or by a short autorickshaw trip. And there's lots to see & do here. Yesterday I made the big walk to the top of Girnar Hill & beyond. There are apparently 10,000 steps, which were built between 1889 & 1908. Dotted along the way are numerous Jain & Hindu temples, some of them dating from the 12th century. After reaching the final temple where you get given some coconut & sugar, you can descend to an ashram for a free meal of roti, dhal, aloo (potato) and rice on big leaves. Later I bought a bottle of "Mecca Cola" which tasted surprisingly like Coca Cola. I spent nearly six hours on the hill, and had very tired legs at the end (different muscles to many of those used for cycling are used in climbing, unfortunately.) But note:

** WARNING: LEG MASSAGE SCAM **
As I walked stiffly toward the base of the mountain, a young man offered me a leg massage (from the knee down) for Rp10, which I gratefully accepted. After doing both legs (and it wasn't a bad massage, except for the bit where he cracked each of my toes by giving them a vigorous tug) he tried to charge me Rp 20, claiming that Rp 10 was just for one leg!

Also visited Uperkot Fort. At first it seemed pretty dull - a wall, a mosque and a rather unexciting Buddhist cave apparently 1500 years old. However, there are 2 baolis (wells) within the fort - one round and the other square. The round one was amazing enough, but the square one, with its superb winding staircase cut into the rock was just astounding - incredibly deep, and somewhat spooky, with hundreds of pigeons nesting and swooping about, and the associated cooing & smell of pigeon shit & urine (human).

I'm staying at the Hotel Relief (motto: "we care people carefully"). I like it - simple, cheap, clean, and the owner & his brother are very helpful and knowledgeable about Junagadh & its surrounds.

Junagadh

2005-02-14T06:24:00.000-08:00

Day 17 cycling: Sasan Gir to Junagadh
Distance: 53.87 km
Ride time: 3:40
Maximum speed: 27.9 km/hr
Total cycled: 1591 km
Total between towns: 1407 km

What a great ride today was! The road itself was in pretty poor condition - a narrow strip of bitumen & rocks on the shoulder meant that I had to be especially vigilant for vehicles in either direction, as there was a great risk of toppling over when moving onto the shoulder (you really need both eyes & ears in the back of your head). I suspect the rocks were there as part of a plan to upgrade the road at some point. Nevertheless it was a very nice ride - not too great a distance, the weather was perfect for cycling, but the best part was the wildlife on the way - monkeys, peacocks, deer (? well, they had antlers), birds and some sort of fat possum-like creature. I also realised that I must learn to cycle with my mouth closed, as to date I've swallowed a large quantity of the Indian insect-life. It's not that I cycle with my mouth hanging open - I'm either talking to myself, gasping for air, or saying "hello" to a passer-by. I suppose I could take a leaf out of the Jain's book and wear a scarf over my mouth. The other nice thing about today's ride was that some folk pointed out a short-cut to me which I took (always a little bit risky) & I saved about 8km as well as having a very quiet road to cycle on.

One of the things to do in Sasan Gir - in fact the main or only thing to do - is to go on a 'safari' to see some lions. For some reason, I really couldn't summon up the enthusiasm to do this & so headed out this morning for Junagadh, after an absolutely inedible breakfast of lightly toasted stale bread provided, at extra cost, by the Hotel Umang at which I stayed overnight.

I was again momentarily disquieted by a road sign that said "Look Out For Lions" as I pedalled off into the distance. I'm sure they were joking.

As I hit Junagadh, a government official sitting in a booth at the side of the road waved me over to shout me a cup of tea. As usual, a small crowd gathered, asking the standard questions about me & my bike. My first impressions of Junagadh are that it will be an interesting place to look around - the town has quiet a nice feel to it. I'm staying at the Hotel Relief, in a very clean & pleasant room (Rp 300), although the traffic is pretty noisy.

Sasan Gir

2005-02-14T05:48:00.000-08:00

Day 16 cycling: Veraval to Sasan Gir
Distance cycled: 43.03 km
Ride time: 2:58
Average speed: 14.64 km/hr
Max. speed: 25.9
Total odometer reading: 1537 km
Total Distance between towns: 1353 km

The first 13km to Sasan were OK, but then the road degenerated, wind arose, making the whole day quite arduous. Sasan Gir is the main town near the Gir National Park & Sanctuary, which is the "only abode of the "Asiatic lion" in the world ..." and houses a little over 300 of these lions, which are at great risk of extinction. I'd be lying if I said I felt no disquiet on entering the gates of the Lion Sanctuary on my bicycle (approximately 37km from Veraval). I reminded myself as I pedalled on that the risk would have to be much less than that posed by cycling on Indian roads.

Hotel Utsav, where I stayed in Veraval, comprised 5 rooms on the 4th floor of a building opposite the local bus station. Cheap but probably fairly priced at Rp 200, given how run down it was. Still, there was bucket hot water & towel provided - I'm beginning to quite like using the bucket method of washing myself, but I'm not sure my bathroom at home could handle this innovation. While in Veraval had an excellent thali at Prakash Dining Hall, which was a very clean & simple place. Recommended. On the whole though, Veraval didn't grab me as the sort of place that I'd choose to linger in for long.

Veraval

2005-02-12T04:50:00.000-08:00

Day 15 cycling: Diu to Veraval, via Somnath
Distance: 94.20km
Ride time: 5:35
Maximum speed: 25.6km/hr
Total cycled: 1494km
Total between towns: 1310km

On the whole, the road was fine - terrific for the first bit, awful for a while & then good again. The sun has quite a bite to it, and I now have sunburnt arms (as well as the gaps between the straps on my sandals & a strip across both hands,j ust below my knuckles ...). I detoured to the temple at Somnath on the way to Veraval but didn't find it all that enthralling. Curious to see that it was patrolled by soldiers, with one of them in a turret, with machine gun behind a sandbag. Expecting trouble perhaps? It was disquietly amusing to notice that two of the soldiers had left their rifles (they looked like the old Boer war .303 rifles) leaning against a column, with neither owner to be seen. I suppose that if I had ventured to pick one up the soldiers might well have reappeared, or maybe the guy in the turret would have sprung into action. For some reason I gave a totally voluntary donation to the restoration fund, before reminding myself with a small tinge of horror that I'd contributed to the maintenance of a religion - not something that I'm generally happy to do. The older I get, the less I can relate to or have time for religion of any sort ... perhaps a topic for another blog.

Diu II

2005-02-12T03:47:00.000-08:00

Diu really is a laid-back & relaxed place, and it's very quiet at night (although the silence is punctuated at times (eg 4 am) by sudden outbursts of frenzied barking by the packs of dogs that inhabit the place, and last night a bunch of Indian blokes were partying in the adjacent room until very late. There were also some tremendous bangs at 1am last night - they sounded like cannons, and the whole hotel seemed to shake with each blast (turned out they were large fireworks - part of a wedding celebration somewhere nearby)... other than all this, it's quiet at night!)

One of the workers in the restaurant attached to Hotel Apana told me he earned Rp 2500 a month [about $75 AUD] (he takes the orders, which is one up from being a waiter, and hence gets paid a little more, but doesn't get tips as do the waiters). For this, he worked a six day week,and a ten hour day - from 11am to 4pm & then 7pm to 12 midnight. He also explained that his wife & child lived in Rajasthan - several hundred kilometres away,and hence he only sees them a few times a year. He said he liked the job & was thus prepared to live with this. Another waiter said his family lived in Nepal ...

I spent some time cycling around Diu - I passed through an area that was purportedly an Industrial Zone, but not much seemed to be happening. Along the northern stretch of road were a few bars, and it wasn't all that clean & tidy compared with the tourist area. I discovered that there are actually two bridges that connect the island to the mainland - this is not at all clear from the various maps of Diu. The western part of the island was curious - Vanakbara, a fishing village, which stank of fish & shit. I've never seen such a concentration of children - you get the impression that all the folk do there is fish & fuck. Nearly every kid wanted to do a sort of sideways "high-five" as I cycled past, and I've never heard so many requests for "pen" as here. It was a very friendly town,and one of the few places in India where even the women would greet you as you cycled past. Gomptimaka Beach, on the southern coast, was a delightfully secluded stretch of golden sand - quite idyllic & not a shred of tourist development there.

DIU

2005-02-09T21:43:00.000-08:00

Day 14 cycling: Rajula to Diu
Distance cycled: 70.17km
Time: 3:36
Average speed: 19.82
Max. speed: 31.1
Total distance cycled: 1348km
Total distance en route: 1216 km

I was feeling a little queasy in the morning & thought that I'd ordered toast with jam. The jam sandwich that arrived wasn't quite what I'd expected. The ride itself started off delightfully; the road to Una was excellent & it was easy to maintain a pace of 22 km/hr or more. Most of the way from Una onwards was ghastly - either very rocky or else potholed & bumpy. It was nice to arrive at the Hotel Apana in Diu & freshen up after 2 days cycling. My room at the hotel is tiled from floor to ceiling (and including floor & ceiling). Theoretically, I guess it would make cleaning easy. I suspect the tiling also enhances rather than dampens any ambient noise, as the first morning here would have to be one of the noisiest starts to the day I've had in India - the usual banging, bellowing & dogs barking, with the addition of some of the loudest clearing of nasal & other passages I've ever heard. It sounded as if someone was being murdered down the corridor. I'm sure it could not be good to do whatever it was he was doing. The other sound that floated into my subconscious mind was the repetitive 'ding' of a bell being rung - which I slowly realised was my bike's, which was locked up out the front of the hotel, below my window. I don't think my yelling out the window at the perpetrators did much for the morning's harmony. In fact, at every single hotel I've stayed at, with the exception of Hotel Palace Utelia, my bike's gears have been changed from those I've left it in. This can be especially annoying when you start cycling in the morning & find your gears all out of whack, and slipping. The big question after "what is your country?" or "from where are you coming?" is to ask how much the bike cost. I'm usually pretty coy about this, and if pressed give a value of a fraction of what it cost.

India! You have to love it (otherwise you'd go mad here....).

For breakfast this morning I had utappa - like a big vegetable pancake, with associated sauces in small tin tubs, and for lunch channa chaat - chick peas with chopped up salad. The food certainly is one of the delights of India, and I'm working way through all the different food that I can.

Diu (pronounced "dew") comprises an island about 11km by 3km & a few bits on the mainland, and along with Daman, which I visited earlier, were ruled by Portugal between the 1530's and, surprisingly, 1961 when India kicked them out, using their armed forces (a few people died in the process). Daman & Diu are not part of Gujurat, but are both governed centrally, from Delhi. It also means that alcohol is available here, unlike in the rest of Gujurat, which is a 'dry' state, largely due to the influence of Ghandi. Typically, restaurants in Gujurat are vegetarian, and alcohol is not available.

Uhoh ... gotta go ... I can hear my bike bell ringing ..

RAJULA

2005-02-08T04:41:00.003-08:00

Day 13 cycling: Palitana to Rajula
Distance: 104.58 km
Ride time: 6:30
Average speed: 16.41 km/hr
Max: 29
Total distance: 1278 km
Distance between towns: 1146 km

My original plan had been to cycle to the port town of Mahuva, stay overnight there and then cycle on to Diu. However a worker in the Hotel Sumeru persuaded me to go via Jesar (not in the Lonely Planet atlas - it might have been the town labelled Dunghapur) to Rajula, which I did. I don't think he was aware of what an awful road it would be to cycle. The turnoff to Jesar was about 12km from Palitana. The road was slightly hilly, but it was quite scenic compared to many other roads I've cycled on the journey. Mt Shatrunjaya remained visible for at least the first 20km, and then another mountain with a huge temple on top took its place for some while. It was a laborious ride - the road seemed to really drag, and the wind was a hindrance. The road between Jesar and Rajula was bloody awful - full of craters and attempts at remediation i.e big clumps of tar. The average speed above contains a lot of variation - a few sections were reasonably speedy. Overall, the scenery varied quite a bit also - brown & dry in some parts; green, lush, fertile in others. Onions, cotton & other crops (corn? wheat?) were being grown, and the gentle sound of irrigation pumps was a nice accompaniement to the ride. Other motorists & their passengers were exceedingly friendly, and my face & arm became sore at all the waving & smiling I found myself doing. Many of the men were dressed head-to-toe in white - with white turbans, stove-pipe trousers that billowed out above the knee (jodhpurs I guess), and usually a big moustache. In fact, I had the uneasy feeling that it was the same damn bloke popping up in all these villages I cycled through.

One small oddity was that the Gujurat map I recently acquired showed two Rajulas, about 13 km apart. Luckily the one I arrived at had somewhere to stay (Hotel White House - which it certainly was - it felt like I was staying in a sanitorium). Very few roadsigns or mileposts were in English, and so I found myself doing what the worker at the hotel in Palitana recommended: stopping in front of a few people while shouting "Rajula! Rajula!" & emphatically pointing to my map . It seemed to work. I had one small mishap on the way. I'd stopped to jot something down in my notebook when a gust of wind blew all the loose leaves down an embankment alongside the road. As I went after them I took a bit of a tumble & drew a little blood. Luckily, nothing serious.

India is such a vast & fascinating place. So often I find myself exclaiming "what the ...!" or "how the ...?" or just "wow!". And I think I might generate this for a few Indians, who often struggle to comprehend why a Westerner would want to cycle through India. They'll often stick their hand out, moving their upturned palm up or down or sideways with a quizzical raising of the eyebrows.

Rajula itself did not seem all that captivating, but admittedly this was based on a short walk of one or two kilometers into the town.

Palitana

2005-02-08T04:41:00.002-08:00

Day 12 cycling: Bhavnagar to Palitana
Distance: 65.22km
Ride time: 3:42
Average speed: 17.85 km/hr
Max: 37.3
Total distance: 1173
Distance between towns: 1042

The road to Palitana was generally good, although became fair in parts, and there were several hilly bits. The traffic was challenging at times as the road was quite narrow. I stayed at a place called Hotel Sumeru, run by Gujurat Tourism. It was adequate, as was the attached restaurant, where I had vegetable makhanwalla, aloo mutter, dal fried, vegetable pulao and roti.

Many of these hotels & guest hotels amaze me by their utter obliviousness to the fact that people staying there might want to sleep at times. From 6.30 am onwards, doors slam, staff roam the corridors singing and shouting to one another, and it often continues late into the night. It's also interesting to ponder the obvious cultural differences in concepts of hygiene & grubbiness. Many rooms will appear pretty bloody awful to me eg muck all over the bathroom but this has clearly not registered with staff who've cleaned it. Kitchen and waiting staff will often have uniforms so grubby that you'd look askance at your local car mechanic if their overalls were as messy. Still, I notice my own sensibilities drifting - I typically don't react to things as I did earlier on e.g strange black items in my yoghurt drink, dried crap on the toilet seat, etc.

My Western sensibilities are also put to the test when I occasionally read the newspapers. One example: a woman became pregant after being raped by the son of her boss. Her family were demanding that he marry her or else they would have him charged.

There's a strange phenomenon I've noticed a few times: other westerners often seem to studiously avoid making eye contact when you pass them in the street or see them in shops & cafes. I even had this with an entire bus load of American tourists who arrived at Hotel Sumeru. What's this about? People's protective mechanism in managing India? (I don't think it's me)

Today, from Palitana, I climbed Shatrunjaya mountain, one of the Jain religion's holiest pilgrimage sites - it contains over 800 temples. The view in all directions was fabulous. It's a 600 metre ascent, comprising over 3000 steps, and took several hours up & back.

Lothal/Utelia to Bhavnagar

2005-02-04T03:38:00.000-08:00

Day 11 cycling: Lothal/Utelia to Bhavnagar
Distance cycled: 111.73km
Ride time: 6:32 hrs
Average Speed: 17.35
Maximum speed: 25
Grand total: 1108km
Total between towns: 976km

Well, I've hit the 1000km milestone on my travels (if I just count city-to-city travel, then I've cycled 976km). Yesterday was really hard - the road surface was quite good, but I just felt buggered, and the wind at times seemed quite strong as it blew into my face for much of the trip. It was also very arid country, with mudflats, a few shrubs and not much else. I'll rest up for maybe 5 days when I get to Diu, on the southern bit of Gujurat where it juts out into the ocean.

Bhavnagar's not such a bad town to wander around, despite the Lonely Planet guide saying there wasn't much to see. I also went & checked out the local museum & took some photographs which apparently I was not meant to do. The exhibits were just great - many of them looked like something a Grade 5 pupil would bang out for a school project. I particularly liked the stuffed lion & the skeleton.

India feels quite a safe place to travel in (the roads, and what you read in the newspapers notwithstanding) - probably the scariest moment occurred today when a cow tried to eat my guidebook as I stopped to check something out in it.

Ahmedabad to Lothal/Utelia

2005-02-03T23:35:00.000-08:00

Day 10 cycling: Ahmedabad to Lothal/Utelia
Distance cycled: 94.72km
Ridetime: 4:49hrs
Average Speed: 19.96 km/hr
Maximum speed: 32.4
Total odometer reading: 973km

It's always difficult cycling out of a big city - "am I going the right way?" - and very cheering when you discover you are. Ahmedabad was surprisingly easy to get out of. It's also mentally taxing - can't let your attention waver for much more than 2 or 3 seconds. The times I have, I've invariably & suddenly spotted something e.g. a tractor, goat or motorcycle on the wrong side of the road, heading straight toward me.

Today's road was very good (mostly Highway 8A) - dual-laned divided highway, flat, excellent surface, light traffic. Scenery was mainly fields & factories (petrochemical, pharmaceutical). There were few refeshement stops.

Ahmedabad to Utelia is actually about 81km but I cycled an extra 14km to Lothal and back. While asking directions, people obviously thought that I was asking "Lothal?" when in fact I was asking "Hotel? ... Utelia". Utelia, where I expected to find Hotel Palace Utelia, was unsigned and doesn't appear on maps, even the local Gujarati one I bought in Ahmedabad. I eventually found it - a large mansion or palace in the middle of the small village of Utelia - seemingly in the middle of nowhere. I was prepared for a difficult time as the Lonely Planet describes it as being "ridiculously overpriced" (but "unusual") and a website by two cyclists ("Bike Brats") was quite negative about it. It was expensive - the tariff was Rp 2400 which I easily negotiated down to Rp 2000, dinner Rp400 an breakfast Rp200. Nevertheless, I had some sympathy for the owner's (Yuvaraj Bhagirath Sinhji) point that it was expensive to run, given its isolation, that tourists only arrived there sporadically, and that it had been damaged by the earthquake that hit Gujarat some years ago. I enjoyed my stay, and the host struck me as quite a pleasant fellow. The palace has 20 rooms, only 10 of them usuable at this stage for tourists, with fantastic views in both directions of the surrounding village and beyond, from the room I stayed in on the top floor. Hot water, soap, towels, toilet paper were all supplied & the food was pretty good - certainly much more than I or the other guest, a Frenchman, could possibly eat. It was also very quiet at night, which is a rarity in India. I'd recommend the place, despite its cost.

Ahmedabad II

2005-02-03T23:09:00.000-08:00

Well, I think I may have experienced the "ecma" that Hotel Serena boasts of. I ordered boiled eggs for breakfast via room service, after having had the ghastly idlis that the Nutan Restaurant dished me up yesterday. The 2 eggs arrived - soft-boiled & helpfully cut up for me into 8 pieces, arranged sunnyside up on a plate, and doused in ground pepper. After the none-too-clean looking room-service guy put his hands all over the tines of the fork before giving it to me, my appetite seemd to evaporate and - I feel embarrassed to admit this - I flushed them down the loo.

This was planned to be a very early breakfast so I could get to the rendevous point for the "Heritage Walk of Ahmedabad" by 8am. I duly arrived, as did a couple from South Africa (Mo & Acacia). Unfortunately for us the guide didn't - we were told he'd gone away for the day. What a drag. However, the 3 of us managed to get a copy of the map of the walk & decided to do a self-guided tour. Mo was a whiz with the map & at asking locals where things were, and the resulting tour was a fascinating look at the side of Ahmedabad that had thus far eluded me. We walked through numerous pols - local micro-neighbourhoods - and saw Jain & Hindu temples, Muslim tombs, striking architecture. The walk left me feeling that Ahmedabad was a pretty interesting town. After that, we paid a visit to the Calico Museum of Textiles - an absolute mecca for those interested in textiles & weaving, I'd reckon - and I later cycled out to Ghandi's Ashram, about 5km out of town. It was an exhausting day, and it took some self-control to not flip-out on finding that my pants had been replaced by a pair of green socks when my laundry was returned to me. Luckily, they were found. (It is amusing to see all the numbers appearing on my clothes so laundries can identify them - so far, my white shirt has 133, 406 and 303 written on the inside collar.) Acacia, Mo & I caught up again that evening for a meal. They were a nice couple & it was good to spend time with them looking at stuff & chatting.

Ahmedabad (Amdavad)

2005-01-30T22:21:00.001-08:00

Day 9 cycling: Baroda to Ahmedabad
Distance cycled: 119.57km
Ridetime: 6:27 hours
Average Speed: 18.67 km/hr
Grand Total: 867km

Overall, today's road was pretty good, and more scenic than it's been to date, although there were a few rough bits and was not a divided road for most of it. I was able to cycle at 19 or 20km/hr for most of the way, but was slowed down at either end as I negotiated my way through both cities. Had a few near misses - a woman & child ran acrosss the highway withway looking (!), and an autorickshaw swerved in front of me & slammed its brakes on hard, for no reason apparent to me. Luckily I couldn't recall the Gujurati swearword that Bhanu told me (she subsequently emailled & told me not to use it as I'd probably get a punch in the face if I did. I think the word involved one's sister ...). So I had to resort to one of the Australian ones I occasionally use. It does seem extraordinary to me how often motorists just pull out or stop suddenly without seeming to look in the mirror or to the side. This behaviour is of course reflected in traffic accident statistics which show India to be about the worst in the world. This, and the fact that so many vehicles are in such bad repair. One day, when I was cycling in South India (in 2000) I was cycling along when a truck came around the corner - the passenger suddenly opened the door and jumped out, then the driver, and the guy in the middle also tried to. The truck kept going in a straight line, into a power pole pulling the power lines down for quite some way in both directions. Presumably its brakes or steering failed, and I expect this is not all that uncommon. It's always in the back of my mind as I cycle along. This, and the memory of a dead motorcyclist jammed underneath a four wheel drive in South India, also encountered on the same trip.
But you have to love it when you see three young men on a motorcycle, or a family of 4 on a motor scooter tootling down the highway, invariably looking quizzically at you or else waving.

As I left Baroda yesterday, the road sign said Ahmedabad 100km, and then a little furthe on a sign said 106km. After I'd cycled 40km (and I know my bike computer is accurate), the sign told me it was 76km to Ahmedabad - my day's goal just seemed to keep getting further away. Similarly, at one stage there 3 successive road signs saying 50, then 51 then 52km to go (was I going in the right direction?).

Yesterday at Baroda I had a thali with Robert from Brisbane. He's taken the past year off from work and has been cycling for the past 8 months in Europe. He'd had enough, had shipped his bike back home, and was travelling India by bus. He was a nice bloke and it was good to chat about our respective travels and compare notes re cycling.

One of the things that Ahmedabad, which is otherwise a rather noisy, dusty, industrial city, has going for it is its restaurants. Last night I ate at a place called "Agashiye", a delightfully atmospheric open-aired terrace on top of a mansion (The House of MG). The service & environment were impeccable, and the food was very tasty. You had to pay in advance which was a little odd, and the manager mumbled something about needing to know in advance for catering purposes, which of course made no sense at all. I suspect some past guests must have run off without paying. Now, I'm sitting in the "biggest & chippest cybercafe" in town, having had a rather miserable breakfast of idli - which unusually came in a big tub of soup, and looked as if it had been nibbled at by a previous diner or something even more worrying to contemplate, and 'toast, butter jam' - which was like a toasted jam sandwich. The coffee wasn't bad. Had lunch in another restaurant in the same building - the Green House - and it too was excellent.

I'm staying at a place called Hotel Serena - not the flashest of hotels, but satisfactory. Their motto is "the proud of your service" and also "for the ecma of comforts". I'm not sure what ecma means, or that I really want to find out.

last day in Baroda

2005-01-29T05:38:00.000-08:00

Visited the Baroda (Vadodara) Museum & Picture Gallery. In the museum, there were heaps of exhibits, mostly well-labelled and in English, which was nice. There were stuffed birds, cats, monkeys, and a mis-labelled koala (it looked like a heavy-set fox or perhaps a fat dingo), statues, pots, trinkets from different cultures, plaster casts of Egyptian statues and of fish from around the world, countless pieces of rock and shell, and strange things in bottles. It was primarily a natural museum - nothing interactive or scientific in nature - and reminded me of the Melbourne museum in the 1960's.

In the Picture Gallery, which was not very interesting, I met an English artist with his easel set up, making a copy, in oils, of a painting of a legal scene by the artist W.P Frith. He had been commisioned by Gray's Inn (one of the societies of barristers in the UK) and was spending 3 days in the gallery to do the job. We had a chat, but he was rather coy about revealing how much he was being paid, other than "lots". In some ways his effort, which was half the size of the original (that's all hs employers could afford, he explained) looked better than the original.

When I returned to my room for a rest this afternoon after cycling around some of Baroda, there was loud hammering coming from the next room, and some other hammering from down the corridor. After about half an hour of this I'd had enough. I was offered a change of room which I accepted - without thinking. The change from the fourth floor to the first means of course that I'm much nearer the road .... noisy +++! I've tended to stay in mid-range hotels, which are generally pretty comfortable. I figure that it's hard on the road - no need for additional hardship at the end of a day's cycling. So, mostly I have hot water/geyser (e hot shower), a flush loo, supplied towel, soap, toilet-paper etc and often a TV - such luxury. The TV tends to have about 40 channels, showing everything from Bollywood movies to this or that guru expounding his or her thoughts on things. The odious Sai Baba was on the other night, sitting on his throne while music played and his devotees looked on reverentially.

Tomorrow I set off for Ahmedabad. I trust the ride will be a little more comfortable, buttock-wise, as I purchased a foam-padded bike-seat cover from a street vendor today.

Baroda (Vadodara)

2005-01-28T05:17:00.000-08:00

Had a really solid night's sleep after all that cycling - well, until 6am - incredibly noisy, with the sound of horns, phones ringing, shouting, penetrating through the walls of the hotel and into my eardrums. For some reason it was dead quiet when I awoke again at 8am, for a short time anyway when an amplified brass band started playing, and then several long chains of fire crackers started exploding. So I got up and had an excellent breakfast - cornflakes & milk, idliis, toast, jam and coffee, and read the Times of India. Later in the day I strolled around the Sayaji Baug park - a relaxing oasis. Inside the park are a planetarium, a zoo (comprising cyclone-fenced enclosures and some very dispirited-looking deer), the Museum (again, Rp 20 for locals and Rp 200 for 'foreigners') and the fabulous Health Museum. This had some pretty funky exhibits that seemed as if they were from the 1950's. There was a tall mirror with a sign above suggesting "look at yourself to correct your posture" and another exhibit entitled "woman's sufferings to bear during fertility" with all sorts of complicated diagrams, models, and explanations.

While out cycling this afternoon, a man with bad teeth sidled up beside me on his motorcycle. He asked a few questions than wondered if I had everything I needed. "Like what", I ventured. "Sex" he replied. "You're not my type" I answered but he didn't notice my attempt at humour. After a bit more banter, I thanked him for his interest in my well-being and cycled off. Mind you, I do feel pretty isolatd at present - no other westerners to speak of, or with, for over a week.

Baroda

2005-01-27T04:21:00.000-08:00

Bharuch to Baroda: Day 8 cycling
Distance: 85.54 km
Ride time: 5:21
Average speed: 16.31 km/hr
Max Speed: 27.0 km/hr
Total Odometer Reading: 726km

Today was much like yesterday - flat road, fine weather condtions, some parts of the road were quite rough & other parts just perfect. Again, the road was a 2-lane divided highway, so no major worries from oncoming traffic. Nevertheless, great vigilance is called for - I was daydreaming for about 2 seconds and nearly collided with a motorcyclist entering the highway on my left. I'm staying at the Hotel Surya in Baroda, allegedly a fairly classy mid-range accommodation, but it's been left to become a little rundown. After I arrived, at about 4pm, I had the delightfully-named high tea here - comprising masala dosa, idlis and a coffee. Very tasty after a day's cycling. Last night I had a meal at the restaurant attached to where I stayed (the Hotel Sethna Plaza Annexe) - the food was not so good there, and in fact I complained re what they gave me. This was changed to something a little better, but not a recommended restaurant. While waiting for my meal, there were some very loud voices coming from the kitchen - I guess the chef was having a bad day.

Baroda looks like an OK place, so I'll spend a day or so here. And frankly, I'm a bit fed up with cycling at present, having covered something like 350 km & cycled for five of the last six days. My buttocks & I need a rest!

Surat to Bharuch (Broach)

2005-01-26T05:02:00.000-08:00

Surat to Bharuch (Broach):
Distance cycled: 81.06km
Average Speed: 17.16 km/hr
Ride time: 4:48
Maximum speed: 27.1 km/hr
Total Odometer reading: 640 km

As I pedalled off this morning I noticed that the bike was in a different gear to the one I left it in last night. This minor hazard tends to occur when you're not able to leave your bike in your room - Indians love to fiddle with things (a cycling log I read the other day nicely described them as "twiddlers"). I also belatedly discovered that my ex-wife Bhanu's family actually came from two neighbouring towns to Surat, but it would've been too awkward a detour at this stage to have had a look around. Would've been interesting though.

This stretch of road was dustier, smokier, smellier and rougher than yesterday's. I also had the wind against me for much of the time. But the road was flat, and a dual-laned divided highway all the way, so on the whole it was a fairly straightforward ride. Not especially interesting though - mostly chemical plants, brick works and the occasional village lined the road. Perhaps the most entertaining sight was the effort to remove a truck from a ditch by means of a crane and a big tow truck. I stood there and gawked at proceedings for a while, along with a crowd of other onlookers. 80 kilometers is a much happier distance to cycle than a 100 km one.

The buttocks seemed a lot better today - was it the Enac gel or perhaps habituation to the task? I did wonder about doing a controlled study - just applying Enac to one buttock, and seeing how it goes. A double-blind experiment would be harder to arrange, but possible (this, by the way, is just one example of the sorts of things the mind ponders as one cycles along for hours at a time ....). A potential road hazard here I'm beginning to notice is mobile-phone use - by motorcyclists!

The day started off well, with a 'complimentary' breakfast at the Hotel Central Excellency. While the place itself was pretty drab, breakast was great - idlis, bhaji, cornflakes & milk and coffee. I also, unusually for me as I like to just keep on going, stopped and had lunch at a roadhouse. I'd stopped for a drink (and typically I'd consume several litres a day on the road) but was enticed into having masala papad (chopped-up tomato, onion and other bits and pieces, on a papadam), chai and some "Chinese" vegetable fried rice. Delicious!

I'm developing a great, if not unusual, suntan - face, legs from the knees down (with sandal markings on my feet) and lower forearms.

Surat

2005-01-25T08:29:00.000-08:00

Daman to Surat:
Distance cycled: 127.86km
Ride time: 7.52 hrs
Average Speed: 16.57 km/hr
Max: 31
Total cycled (odometer reading): 559 km
Today was a pretty good cycling day - weather very pleasant (mid-20's), flat, good road surface most of the way, traffic tolerable. I cycled roughly north north east for about 15km before hitting the main highway. What was striking so early in the morning was all the spit on the road - Indians do so like a good gob. The road today was mostly a 2-lane divided highway (NH8), but roadworks were happening along most of it, and traffic kept being diverted along one side or other. This was good for me on the bike as I could usually continue cycling on the blocked-off section of road for quite some distance. The curious thing was the total lack of road signs or mileposts along the way, pretty much until I hit the turnoff to Surat. Still, no real problem here, as I was basically heading north all day, up the highway. The other curious thing was how friendly other motorists were - truckies, and others, smiling, waving, giving me the thumbs up sign. Very cheering.

I'm staying a night at the Hotel Central Excellency - a nightmare to find, as Surat is actually a rather big place - and a somewhat shabby and overpriced place (900 Rp a night - quite a lot more than the LP guide suggests), but I was too tired after cycling so far to even think about finding anything else. My buttocks really let me down today, otherwise the average speed above would've been a little faster. They were really sore, and I'm contemplating putting a big squirt of the marvellous Enac gel in my trousers for tomorrow's ride. Still, I can count myself lucky that I don't suffer from a numb or painful todger,as I know some cyclists do. I also have a bit of soreness developing in my right knee (is this getting too boring, dear reader...?). My friend Sue, who is in to these sorts of things, tells me that someone called Louise Hay reckons that a sore knee means an excess of pride. I reckon I'd be prouder if I didn't have the bloody pain. Well, a rather uneventful day on which to have a birthday and the nearby restaurants don't seem all that conducive to having much of a celebration. Tomorrow,as well as being Australia Day, is also Republic Day in India. I'm not sure how people celebrate this, or what it will be like on the roads. For me, I'll try & cycle to Bharuch (also known as Broach), a modest 86 km away.

24th Jan

2005-01-24T02:47:00.000-08:00

Daman is quite a nice & relaxed little town by the ocean. I walked today around the Moti Daman, the fort area on the south side, after taking a boat across the small stretch of water between (cost Rp2). The centre span of the bridge apparently collapsed a few years ago, which must be a boon for the boat owners. The Moti Daman area is a relatively quiet, clean and somewhat charming area, with a few interesting things to see, such as the Church of Baby Jesus and another church that is apparently very ornate inside, in the Portuguese style. This was closed and the caretakers couldn't open it for me when I asked as the guy who had the key had gone off to visit his brother for the afternoon.

The food in India is great. I've had my fill of naan, paratha & rotis, as well as pakoras, puri bhaji, masala dosa, channa (chickpea) masala, murgh (chicken) makhani and of course thali, as well as gulabjamun and one or two other sweet dishes. Chai is always a delight to me, especially after stopping for a drink break during some heavy cycling. All this of course is likely to increase my bulk, but overall I'm losing weight due to the cycling. In fact, I might have to buy a pair of braces soon. And my buttocks, or "sitting bones" as yoga people cutely call them, are taking a hell of a beating (I was going to say "as sore as buggery" but thought better of it) what with sitting on them for 12 hours a day during the meditation course and then hours in the saddle cycling. Still, I reckon they'll be pretty taut and trim by the time I return to Australia.

Daman's such a peaceful place that I've stayed here a day longer than plannned. I'll be off tomorrow though, heading northwards.
... hmm, I've just remembered that tomorrow is my birthday, so I guess it will be a low key affair on my own, who knows where. I was cycling in India in 2000 on my birthday and went to a restaurant for a nice meal with the plan of having some ice cream as a sort of celebration. Unfortunately they said they didn't have any when I ordered it ...

Daman

2005-01-22T23:14:00.000-08:00

Day 5 cycling: Kaparda to Daman

Distance cycled: 53.83km
Average speed: 18.02 (that's more like it)
Ride time: 3:03 hours
Max speed: 47.9 km/hr
Overall total: 416km

The road, despite a few hilly and very rough patches, was very good. Daman is a reasonable little town, about 180 km north of Mumbai, on the coast and has a few forts, churches and beaches, although these are no good for swimming in. I'll most likely head off tomorrow, north, in the direction of Surat, but who knows, as the hotel I'm in is quite comfortable (in fact, one of the best I've stayed in in India - it costs about $20 per night.) The food so far has been pretty good, and I can recommend the local version of Chinese food if you begin to feel tired of just eating Indian food. The fried rice is delightfully hot, and is bright orange in appearance.

I'm happy to report that my bad gut was jsut a flash in the pan, and I'm in shipshape condition once again (unfortunately the immodium I took as a precaution resulted in not successfuly going to the loo for the next 3 days... (is this too much detail for you dear readers?))). I have developed a bit of a cough and chest congestion, but I recall having the exact same issue the last time I cycled India, in 2000. It may well be a result of diesel and other nasty stuff from cycling the roads here. I went to a pharmacy to see if I could get something for it e.g lozenges,and they quite happily gave me a blister pack of antibiotics (amoxycillin) - no prescription needed. I figured probably not a great idea at this point.

on the road again - Nasik to Daman

2005-01-22T03:51:00.000-08:00

Day 4 cycling: Nasik to Kaparda
Distance cycled: 100.59km
Ride time: 6:47 hours
Average speed = 15.37 km/hr
Overall total = 362 km
Max Speed: 45 km/hr

The first 30km out of Nasik were fine - road conditions were very good (decent surface, light traffic, fairly flat, and occasional road signs in English). There were lots of eucalyptus trees along the route (Australia gave them to India, & they gave us the Mynah bird). It sometimes felt as if I were cycling some obscure road between Adelaide & Port Augusta. After 38km the surface was ... crap, although there was a nice downhill bit (which the bad surface managed to spoil). From my vipassana training of course, one should never be disappointed by uphill stretches or overjoyed by the downhill ones (but it's sure hard not to, especially with a good road surface & little traffic). The 45 km/hr section was rather fun. Funnily, when the road is steep and/or very awful, the truckies suddenly become very friendly, waving, smiling - I guess they feel some sense of common ground as we both struggle with the same difficult conditions. Out here, the locals don't seem quite so friendly, and tend to look blank when I cycle past saying "hi", "hello" or something similar. I later learnt that these words are unknown in these parts.

I arrived at Kaparda at about 4pm, utterly exhausted - 15.37 km/hr is not a great speed (I like it when I can hit at least 18) which reflects to some extent how bad the road was ( and a little bit my lack of cycling fitness). Allegedly there was a hotel in Kaparda - one of only two on the entire way between Nasik & Pardi. Only there wasn't - after going in this direction and that, given to me by helpful locals, I finally stopped & sat on a concrete slab ready to just weep, when a man crossed the road & took me to the local school hostel, where they agreed to put me up for the night. Such bliss! The conditions were pretty rough - squat loo, swarms of mossies, and so on, but I wasn't complaining. However I was a little unsure when given a cup, a bucket of water & towel, and taken into the midle of the school ground to make use of the equipment. I wasn't quite sure whether I was meant to strip off in front of the entire school or not ... but then sense arrived, and I just washed my exposed bits. Later that evening, I took the teacher to the local hotel/roadhouse for a meal - very tasty, and I'm sure much better than what any roadhouse in Australia would turn out. It was a little strained,as neither of us knew a word of the other's language, and I felt too exhausted to make any grand efforts at pantomime. I later slept like a log until 6am when the whole place came alive - morning chanting, washing, cleaning, sweeping, eating etc. The school's English teacher arrived, so we had a chat & he drew me a map showing how to cut about 15 km off my journey to Daman by taking roads not on my road atlas. (He explained that he's paid about Rp4500 a month (about $150 AUD), which is not great)

One thing that's been very tricky is that the names shown on my LP Travel Atlas, and also my map, bear little relationship to local reality - for instance, the town shown as "Peint" is called "Peth" by everyone - even the official signs, if in English call it this. Even worse, "Chioli", on the map, is called "Nanaponda" locally --- and locals apparently would not know what I was talking about if I asked the way to "Chioli". Curious. The two maps drawn for me to date by locals have been very helpful & fairly accurate ... much more than so than my maps. So, thanks guys.

Thursday 20th - Nasik

2005-01-22T03:29:00.000-08:00

Cycled 8km out to some Buddhist caves south of Nasik (Pandu Lena) as a test run after my apparent recovery from the bad gut & then had a masala dosa at the Annapoona guest house. Things seemed OK & the caves were reasonably interesting (although I felt a little cross being charged Rp100 whereas locals pay Rp5 - nearly a 2000% hike). At the caves, again crowded by students & other young blokes wanting to take my photo. The main, and probably only, benefit to me in all this is that I can then ask someone to take mine with my camera. So,I have heaps of photos with me in the midst of crowds of young men. Which also serves to highlight how there is almost a total lack of contact with female Indians here ... in fact, about the only one I've had any dealings with was with a bank-worker, when I changed a traveller's cheque. . I sort of think this strange interest the young men have in me may be related to this in some way.

... still in Nasik

2005-01-19T01:13:00.000-08:00

... so how come I'm still in Nasik? Well, I've been feeling pretty smug for some time that I've not had a bad gut during my last 3 or 4 forays into South East Asia/ Asia, and that somehow cycling & drinking lots of coca cola was helpful. Rudely shattered last night, and since then I've been spending most of my time, when not on the loo, lying on my bed reading & watching TV & generally feeling sorry for myself.I've taken a bit of a gamble rushing out to teh internet cafe to write this.

I went for a test run yesterday on my bicycle to see if I could at least find the right road to Pardi. I enquired of a bunch of youths on the outskirts of Nasik whether it was indeed the Pardi road; they assured me it was & were very helpful - offered me a cup of chai, some food, invited me for dinner and drew me a map (unfortunately the usual map conventions of north, south and so on didn't seem to apply). Nevertheless they explained that there were 2 hotels between here & Pardi, showed me roughly where and even wrote me a note in Marathi (they don't use Hindi where I'm headed & are unlikely to speak any English) to show to people if I get stuck (hopefully it doesn't say "you get fucked mister!"... ). They also wrote the names of some of the towns in Hindi, including a number not listed on my maps, which may be helpful if I get lost - apparently there are a number of crossroads on the way (indicated by spirals on their map). They were a little discouraging in shaking their heads, saying that a lot of it was a forest area, quite hilly, and that it was a bad area at night that I was heading into ("you'll get robbed")and that the locals were into "black magic" and other bad things. Gulp.

Again, they wanted my personal details (and looked a bit sorry for me when I explained I had no issue) and were rapt when I took a photo of them all ... there must have been a dozen or so crowding around by the time I left.

You do begin to feel like a celebrity - a group of school kids cycled alongside me while I was out riding yesterday, asking the usual: "who is your favourite Australian cricketer?" and "what do you think of Tendulkar?". Me: "fantastic!", of course, although I have toyed with being mean and asking "who's he?". He's the number one sporting hero here for sure. And with all these autograph requests, I'm beginning to feel like Shane Warne. Luckily no-one's asked me to play cricket yet.
Well, gotta run, if you know what I mean.

Nasik (or Nashik)

2005-01-17T01:08:00.000-08:00

Day3 Cycling: Igatpuri to Nasik (Nashik): 47.68km. Ride time: 3 hours. AVS = 16.35 km/hr. MAX = 39.2km/hr
(Total Distance = 230km) … i.e. about 200km from Mumbai to Nasik, which includes maybe 15 to 20km where I took a wrong turning. Road flat - i.e. little overall elevation over the distance, but variable shoulder - it often dropped away & was stony in many places.

The peace, harmony, and goodwill to others from the 10-day course was short-lived as I hit the road again, as I was regularly forced to the shoulder by other traffic. Even though I set off fairly early, and it was Sunday morning, the traffic was quite heavy. However the trip was a little more interesting this time - I saw several overturned trucks, and the results of a head-on collision, with police in attendance. I would be very mean spirited to think "serves you right", but it was hard to feel overly sympathetic for the drivers. And these graphic indicators of the potential hazards seemed to make little impression on the passing traffic - vehicles continued to overtake each other with careless abandon even at the accident sites.

I even saw an elephant lumbering along on the other side of road, with mahout (rider) on top and a fellow walking alongside, on its way to Mumbai - so I was told after giving them a small donation (at their invitation). With its huge yet beady eyes looming down at me, it sucked up the few small notes I put in its trunk and handed them to the mahout. I did feel a little uneasy looking into the eyes of this gargantuan creature, but it was quite fascinating at the same time. Other vehicles gave the elephant a little more room than they did to cyclists, but not much.

I’m also beginning to notice the signs of "bicycle hypochondriasis" -every new and unfamiliar squeak, rubbing or vibration - and there seem to be many - has me worrying that something is amiss!

So, here I am at the Hotel Panchavati, as suggested in the Lonely Planet guide (single room rates are 660 RP plus tax - about $19 AUD, which is reasonably lavish, but hey, if I’m doing it hard on the road, I may as well live comfortably when not travelling). The place was extremely hard to find without a map, with most of the street signs being in Hindi only, and the usual difficulty in asking directions. After enquiring of about half a dozen people wandering by I finally managed to find it. It’s quite reasonable, with friendly staff, hot water and shower, fan, TV and not too noisy - well, it’s pretty bloody noisy but tolerable. They wouldn’t let me take my bike into my room, which I rather prefer to do – one becomes quite attached to one’s bike – so it’s bolted to the wall downstairs under the steely gaze of the moustachioed security man (perhaps they’d let me if I paid for a double room ...). I’ll stay here a day or two to settle and figure out where to next.

I’m feeling a little anxious at present about where to next, and it may have been wiser to have cycled west from Igatpuri toward the coast, as this is now where I’m thinking of going. The map (Lonely Planet Road Atlas), which is OK but not fantastic, indicates a 96km journey to a town called Chiol, and then another 20 km to Pardi. Worryingly, my other map suggests something a little different, and doesn’t even include Chiol. Still, what’s the worst that can happen?! (hmm ... that doesn’t help me much). If I head west, I’m bound to hit the coast or Highway 8 eventually!

My rough plans are to head north into Gujarat - via Surat, Bhavnagar, to Diu and Veraval and back around to Ahmadabad and maybe one or two other places then on to Mount Abu where I hope to catch up with an old school chum Charlie who will be there in mid-February. He’s a member of a group called Brahma Kumaris, who have a ‘Spiritual University’ and museum there. After that, Udaipur and maybe one or two other places in Rajasthan. Depending on my time, I might then head down to Goa for some R&R. Knowing me, this plan is probably overly ambitious ...

5th January 2005

2005-01-17T01:05:00.000-08:00

Day 2 cycling: Shahapur to Igatpuri: . 51.06km. Cycling time: 4hrs 20 min (but really, from 9am to about 2.30pm). AVS = 12.15 (poor, but a fairly hilly ride, mostly uphill…). MAX = 41.6 km/hr i.e. hills

Vipassana International Academy (VIA)
The VIA was an impressive campus, spread over many hectares (?18). Over 400 meditators, male and female in roughly equal numbers, were there to do the 10-day course, male & female – there were perhaps 20 or so Westerners. Scores of others were there as volunteers to help run the course – cooking, cleaning up, organizing and doing all the other tasks required to run such a large course. Many others were there doing long courses of between 20 and 60 days. Given the numbers, everything ran exceedingly smoothly.

The course involves the practice of certain Buddhist meditation techniques, including the observation of bodily sensations with equanimity – tough when your legs are unwinding from having cycled 150km in the preceding 2 days. Each day involves about 12 hours of sitting on a mat from between 4am and 9pm, with breaks in between. To minimize any distractions (there are enough mental and physical ones from just sitting on the mat), there is a requirement that no communication, either verbal or non-verbal, takes place between meditators, or that any reading or writing materials be used, and the cooking and cleaning-up is done by volunteers.

I was very fortunate in being given my own room, with fan, shower (cold), bucket hot water, loo – many others, particularly first-timers, had to live in dormitories or share toilet and bathing facilities. I was certainly glad no-one could see me in my shower cap with a bucket of cold water at 4 am (the bucket hot water did not come on until 6.30am each day, for about an hour). Furthermore, as an “old student” (this of course refers to having done a course before and nothing to do with age), I also had a cell in the pagoda, which could be used to meditate in for much of the time. The cell was a small room about the size of a small WC, which allowed you at various times to meditate away from the distractions of others (and there were many: the sounds of 399 other meditators shuffling, belching and farting away is awesome, and very disturbing at times)

Each day started at 4am, after the ringing of the gong and various other bells, followed by an explosion of sounds as people in surrounding rooms cleared their nasal and other passages – coughing, grunting, hawking, gobbing, spluttering, snorting ... Some people managed to make sounds that I am sure I could not replicate if I tried. There were many other strange noises during the course - thumps, grindings, half-caught singing from the nearby township – and no-one to ask what the hell they were.

We were given heaps of numbers for the course. Mine were: Reg Number: 0004; room: D-15; meditation mat: 12; pagoda cell: 125; Valuables pouch: 64; Group: 33; Laundry 133… all my undies, shirts, pants now sport the number “133” in indelible ink.

My first 2 days were torment, with my right leg being slightly swollen from cycling - within minutes it became totally numb every time I sat to meditate. While the experience of pain is a ‘given’ on this sort of course, this did not feel good. Luckily a rather stern and seemingly humourless doctor at the general office gave me a tube of “Enac Gel”, which saved the day. What great stuff – as it says on the tube, it’s an “anti-inflammatory analgesic” - I’ll be taking some with me when I cycle from now on.

I was allocated a seat in the front row on the far left, which was quite good, as I had no one sitting in front of or alongside me on the left other than a single column of Buddhist monks hard alongside the left wall of the hall. The guy on the right was quite distracting at times – he specialised in these initially very low, rumbling and then finally extremely loud and reverberating belches. As we were not supposed to communicate there was of course no way for me to tell him to knock it off. Meditation instructions were given in both Hindi and English, and occasionally we English- speaking folk trooped off to another hall to hear things in English.

The food was excellent and a good re-introduction to Indian food, although after a while I did begin to wish for something like cornflakes rather than the savoury food dished up at breakfast time – e.g. rice, idliis, various sauces. I did however come to love, even crave, the glass of warm, sweetened milk available at this time, followed by a good strong cup of chai.

Most of the Indians ate with their right hands, whereas I tended to use the supplied spoon. It’s interesting to notice my conditioning, I guess from an early age, when you’re trained to use cutlery and told to stop playing with your food when you used your hands. I must admit to a slight feeling of distaste when I see Indian folk digging in, with rice up to their knuckles, or when I try myself as I did yesterday when I went to a Thali restaurant. What’s this about? Similarly, I much prefer loo paper than left hand. Curious that we in the west invented toilet paper and cutlery, to put a distance between our hands and these basic functions.

4th January 2005

2005-01-17T01:03:00.000-08:00

Day1 cycling: Mumbai to Shahapur: Total 102.64 km. 6hrs 54mins ride time. MAX = 38.6km/hr. AVS = 15.36 km/hr – a little slow but a lot of time spent getting through Mumbai (around 20km until out of Mumbai). Road conditions were generally good, although the surface became a bit rough over the last 15km. Overall, not a very interesting ride – mainly highway, and not so many places to stop for a cup of tea. When I did, people seemed a little incredulous to see me, as if I was an astronaut just off the space shuttle – people seem baffled to see a westerner on a bicycle & would stand around and gawk at me and the bicycle (and they do tend to fiddle with bike bits) … just doesn’t make sense to them. I started to run out of puff after about 90 km (!), but there seemed nowhere evident that I could stay. After another 10km or so I arrived at the small town of Shahapur, which seemed an unlikely place to have a guesthouse or any accommodation, and my attempts at asking led to a few ‘bum steers’. (At this point, I recalled that many Indians prefer apparent helpfulness to accuracy, and may well make up an answer and point in any old direction, rather than admit they don’t know. This cost me about 15kms on the trip, when I took a wrong turn based on faulty directions.) It was beginning to look hopeless when a young boy understood my request for “accommodation” and took me to the Engineers’ Training School (I think that’s what it was) where he and some other lads aged 16 to 19 helped negotiate me a room there. For 200 Rp (about 6 Australian dollars) I was given a room with a fan and bathroom with hot water. I felt stuffed but so pleased to be able to stop and rest. 100 km was probably a little too ambitious for my first day’s cycling.

I was a celebrity for an evening. The lads crowded into my room (nine of them at one stage, plus an engineer or two) plying me politely with questions (what I was doing, age, profession, marital status and so on) and examining my bike. Four of them invited me for a Chinese meal in a local restaurant. They were so very friendly, and at one stage a small squabble erupted over who would sit next to me at the restaurant. At the end of the evening they gave me some small gifts (a Hindi calendar and a small sort of flower arrangement), despite my protestations that I couldn’t fit anything else in my panniers.

Indians are usually very placid and friendly on person-to-person basis, but their aggression seems to become unleashed on the roads. Trucks and buses are relatively respectful when travelling in the same direction, and will give you a wide enough berth if possible when they overtake (unless there’s oncoming traffic also overtaking, in which case they’ll toot away indicating that they’re coming and you’d better watch out). Oncoming vehicles however have no scruples in forcing you off the bitumen when overtaking slower oncoming traffic. Funnily, oncoming traffic usually gives the best indication of when to be extremely cautious or to pull over onto the shoulder of the road.

Signs indicating blind curves are also another cue to be very careful, especially when the sign indicates no overtaking: Indians seem to regard these signs as an indicator to do just the opposite. I guess it’s because they can’t see anything ahead. Going downhill, especially when it’s a steep hill, can be particularly dangerous, as you’re likely to meet a whole phalanx of vehicles crawling uphill bunched up behind the slower vehicles. As soon as there’s a break in the traffic coming down the hill (a bicycle doesn’t count as traffic) every second vehicle pulls right out with a view to overtake, entirely filling the lanes in both directions.

3rd January

2005-01-17T01:01:00.000-08:00

Satisfactorily put the bike together and then tentatively ventured out onto the roads of Mumbai several times today. The traffic’s not that much worse to cycle in than in Melbourne (but drivers are more erratic here, and there are fewer cows and goats in Melbourne). It’s a huge city & a little hard to grasp an overall picture of. The slums are fairly confronting. I cycled about 30km around Mumbai today.

Mumbai - 2nd January 2005 (Day 1)

2005-01-17T01:00:00.000-08:00

Well, I’ve arrived OK at Bentley’s Hotel in Mumbai. The bike & its box weighed in at 28.8kg at Melb Airport but thankfully they didn’t charge excess baggage, which is apparently $30 per kilo. It’s hard to think of what I might have left behind, as most of my ‘excess’ items e.g. laptop, books, etc., were in my carry-on luggage anyway.

Surprised to meet an old school chum, Dr Rob Moodie on the flight – he was off to Mumbai for 3 days for some medical conference/workshop. I went upstairs to Business Class & chatted with him for some while. It certainly was flash compared to economy class – heaps of room. A long and tedious drive from the airport – scheduled arrival was at 4.15pm, but we arrived at least an hour after this and got to Bentley’s at about 7.30pm. I was very glad I opted to be collected from the airport rather than to try and cycle to where I was staying – the traffic was hell – apparently some festival was in progress.

Actually, it’s a Bentley’s offshoot – Bentley’s guesthouse - I’m at, and I seem to be the only other tourist here. While there are other tourists in town, and in the restaurants I’ve been in, I’ve spoken to no one yet – hard to not feel a bit lonely & a little shell-shocked with Mumbai, even though I’ve been to India before. Mind you, it’s not that much noisier than the busy road I live on in Melbourne.

Felix & Mr Pumpy

2004-12-30T05:26:00.000-08:00

By the way, a really good blog to keep an eye on is the one by my mate Felix and his pal Mr Pumpy. It's at http://www.mrfelix.blogspot.com/. You might also like to check out the Biking Southeast Asia with Mr Pumpy! site. They're in Kolkata at present, and plan to cycle to Burma. It would've been good to hook up with them, but unfortunately our timings don't quite coincide.

two days to go

2004-12-30T04:52:00.000-08:00

Of course, the list below is overly optimistic, as I'm travelling with Qantas. I forgot when I bought my ticket that Qantas insists on your bike being packed in a cardboard box, unlike Garuda and many other south-east asian airlines who are happy enough for you to let out a little air from the tyres & then have the bike wheeled on board (I returned from cycling the circumference of Bali just a few weeks ago, and Garuda remains quite happy with this arangement. They're also pretty flexible with their weigh-in procedures).
The Qantas box weighs about 3 kg, which represents 15% of my checked in baggage. It's also much more of a hassle at the other end. In Bali, it was a delight to be able to collect my bike from the man who wheeled it into the terminal, pump up the tyres, attach my panniers and cycle past the waiting hordes and on to where I'd planned to stay.

I've managed to arrange my accommodation in advance in Mumbai (I had one reply from the 6 hotels I did email ... perhaps business is so good they don't need to bother replying) - Bentley's - which Lonely Planet categorises as budget-range. Hotels in Mumbai seem outrageously expensive in comparison to much of the rest of India. A comparable hotel in Chennai, where I stayed in 2000, is at least a quarter of the price of what I'll be paying at Bentley's. Still, I've happily been able to arrange an airport pick-up of me and my bike-in-a-box, so I won't have to struggle with reassembling it in the terminal and then cycling 24 km into the centre of the city, or of struggling to fit the box on top of an airport taxi.

my plans & what I plan to take

2004-12-27T05:56:00.000-08:00

Well, I and my bicycle are off to India on 2 January, returning to Melbourne on 17 March - about 11 weeks. After arriving in Mumbai I plan to cycle to Igatpuri (about 125km) where I'll sit a vipassana meditation course (see http://www.dhamma.org/) until 16 Jan. I'm not sure where I'll head after that - either south to Goa or north into Rajasthan.

here's what I plan to take (this may seem a bit obsessive, but many people are keen to know these things):

Scott Yecora Mountain bike
2 rear panniers & 1 handlebar bag
2 bar ends
bike computer (Sigma 1600)
pump
U-bolt
Kryptonite cable lock
puncture repair kit(s)
"Cool Tool" - multi-function repair tool
Allen key set
ProLink Chain Lube
spare spokes
1 spare inner tube
pair of cycling gloves
bike helmet
lights - front & rear (front light can be used as a torch)
bungy or 'occie' strap
compass

2 small padlocks & wire cable
sink plug
sewing kit
small polyamide towel
ClickZip clickable storage bags
Sarong
sleeping sheet
3 x Space Bags (to compress clothing)
Plastic bags
clothes line & 3 pegs
Lonely Planet Road Atlas to India & Bangladesh
Lonely Planet Guide to India
several books to read
travel clock
Swiss army knife
plastic spoon
extra passport photo(s)
photocopy of passport, visa, tickets

Clothing:
1 T-shirt
1 Polo shirt
2 long-sleeved shirts
1 windcheater
4 pairs undies
Pair Columbia shorts (for swimming, etc)
Pair Gondwana shorts (for cycling)
Pair long trousers
Pair cycling knicks
Pair sandals (for cycling)
Pair socks
shoes: black Dunlop Volleys
sunglasses/ clear riding glasses (interchangeable lenses)

Toiletries:
toilet bag, including small mirror
face washer
"interdental cleaners"
Poly Wipes - for oily/ greasy hands
Wet Wipes/ small tissues
small soap, shampoo, toothpaste (can buy there)
First aid kit - antiseptic, bandaids, alcohol swabs, cotton buds
tongue cleaner
shower cap
Betadine drops (as antiseptic, and for water purification if needed)
RID Sunblock with Insect protection
RID Tropical Spray On (DEET)
nail clippers
Lomotil/ Immodium
Super Glue for cuts & for gluing
? moisturiser/ skin lotion for sunburn

Laptop computer (to keep notes, mp3's & to store photos)
Kensington computer lock
AC Adapter
Canon Powershot S30 & Battery charger
International adaptor plugs
surge protector