Dec. 14 : To the Taj Mahal

The Flights

Other than hassles at Pearson about my bike, Aeroflot was great. I
was well-fed, the food was surprisingly edible, and the wings didn't
fall off after all. Moscow International Airport was another story. I
spent 5 long hours in that hellhole, a bleak, poorly-planned
traveller-unfriendly place. There was no travellers lounge, little
ventilation, and all the Russian women were chain-smoking which
gave the air a nasty taste.

Delhi International was another story. 30 minutes after getting off the plane I had retrieved my bike and changed $$! Much to their credit, the powers-that-be at the airport had kicked the touts out. At 4:00 a.m. India time I furiously assembled my bike...

Wednesday, December 14 Agra, India 230km

At around 5 a.m. I rolled away from Delhi International, hoping to make it to Mathura, 160km away. It was an aggressive target - I haven't ridden much in the past 3 months, and my last 160km ride was in... Malaysia last winter. However, I knew the road would be dead flat, I was starting fresh, and I was likely to pick up a gentle tailwind in the afternoon. It was nighttime, of course, but the road was wide and well-lit, the traffic was light and slow, and I felt completely safe. I was immediately reminded of Bangkok, the nuances of road design being very similar (driving on left, high curbs, intersection optional overpasses, etc). In fact a feeling came over me that I hadn't really left SE Asia, or that I was "back". I pedalled softly, conservatively, listening to my wheels and my back, the 2 Achilles heels that I know I have.

Road signage was surprisingly poor and I had to result to astronavigation, corny but true. I knew I had to go East to hookup with National Highway #2, and I was able to spot the Big Dipper during some darker stretches... as long as I kept it on my left all was good.

Immediately I came to realize that Indians are the worst drivers I've ever seen, by far, a fact that would be triply-reinforced all day. They make the Thais (the previous title-holders) look like sane pansies. To start, they don't pay any attention to traffic lights, particularly the larger vehicles. They will barrel hell-bent through a red. I'm completely not kidding. For me, this means I have to come to a stop at EVERY intersection, regardless of what the light is. Aside from the lights thing, they're just plain... crazy? apathetic? stupid? all 3? I saw THREE accidents today. And we're not talking mild fender-benders here. Three times today I opted for the gravel shoulder, coming to a dusty stop, not interested in being in the middle
of the situation unfolding 2-3 metres to my right. However, I do feel safe (mom), I'm riding very aware and awake.

Back to day's events. I hooked up with Highway 2, turned South, and passed through Delhi's suburbs. Easily among the poorest and dirtiest place I've ever seen. Too many anecdotes to mention, and you don't want to hear them, trust me. As dawn broke the traffic heated up and the games began. The traffic is as eclectic as you could imagine - carts being pulled by camels, mules, tractors, cars, bicycles and people. Lots of scooters and bicycles. Psycho buses with one foot on the gas pedal, one hand on the horn. Cows wandering aimlessly across the road.

Food (good food) turned out to be surprisingly difficult to come by. Drinks were everywhere, cheap and cold, but good food seems to be restricted to tourist areas. I REALLY don't want to get sick and am eating carefully, so inevitably will be losing a lot of weight. But the Masala potato chips are awesome!

When they're not behind a steering wheel the Indians have been fantastic... so far its only the touts that seem to be after money, the other Indians I've encountered are curious, chatty, helpful, and respectful.

Other than coming to numerous unplanned stops the day's riding was thankfully uneventful. As I approached Mathura, my day's target, I was tired and looking forward to a rest. Somehow I missed the turnoff (probably because the sign said something as helpful as "District 3 zone station") and ended up 5-10km down the road to Agra before realizing I had overshot. Hmmm 45km to Agra (Taj Mahal). Back's feeling good. Tailwind. Delhi-Agra one day. It had a nice ring. I pulled over, downed some 7up and mango juice, then rode hellbent, charged with sugar and adrenalin. The roadside Indians were quite excited as I flew by at 37km/h, hunched down on my aerobars, but I had little time to wave back or say hello, at this point.

Agra itself is an uninviting hole of a town, and I had to cross it to get to my planned guesthouse, next to the Taj Mahal. The touts were out in full force in and around the Taj grounds, and I'm bracing for them tomorrow morning when I go to see it. So far, India has been... good... a little crowded... but good... I'm already looking forward to the emptier spaces of Rajasthan...