Jan. 31 - Kathmandu, Nepal

Tuesday, January 31 :: Kathmandu, Nepal :: 0km today / 3199km total

Over breakfast this morning I read in the local newspaper that the India-Nepal border is closing from Feb. 7 - 9, during the upcoming election. THATS NOT GOOD. Its a border I need to cross. And, there's no guarantees that it won't be closed longer than the 9th (or earlier than the 7th?), the way things are here. Well. That changes things.

With even more resolve to go there I showed up at the Pakistani embassy. After the usual foolishness (I had to get a letter from the Canadian consulate saying I'm a good guy... I mean, I am, but how do they know?), I left with the promise of a visa tomorrow. Islamabad here I come! I've always loved Islamic countries and peoples, hopefully Pakistan will be more of the same (but different!). In the Canadian Consulate I was told that the Maoists are calling for all businesses in Nepal to close for a week, starting Feb 5th. GREAT. While these border/business issues are not dangerous to me, they make travel pretty difficult, even by bike. And you never know what the election fallout will be. So I will have to cut my time in Nepal short, probably via a 12-hour bus ride to the Western border from Bharatpur (which I still intend to ride back to).

Back in Thamel I booked the Everest flight for tomorrow morning, a 1.5 hour out-and-back flight out of Kathmandu to... Everest and surrounding mountains. Should be awesome. Nepal is DEFINITELY a place I want to come back to, in the future, maybe hike the Annapurna Circuit or to Everest Base Camp. Anyone?

I finished the day with some walking tours of Kathmandu's historic district, and of course plenty of food. The touts are bad here, but I have more empathy for them than anything else. Tourism in Nepal has been cut in half since 1999, because of the political problems, 9/11, etc., and the people are suffering for it. In more peaceful times, from what I've seen, it would be an incredible trekking or paddling destination.

I'm possibly leaving Kathmandu tomorrow afternoon, and the next time you hear from me I may be back in India.

Jan. 30 - Kathmandu, Nepal

Monday, January 30 :: Kathmandu, Nepal :: 85km today / 3199km total

A great start; at the 17km mark I passed 3131km, the total distance I rode last winter in SE Asia! My ride down to Bharatpur was only 79km, relatively flat, and I hammered it off fairly quickly, allowing myself to go to exhaustion, since the culinary bounty of Kathmandu was just ahead. From Bharatpur I have a 150km out-and-back to Kathmandu, and I would take the bus one way. Now, Kathmandu sits about 3000 feet higher than Bharatpur... if you were going to take a bus one way, and ride the other, which way would you take the bus? Ya, me too, so a bus it was to Kathmandu. A very slow bus, going through many military checkpoints. At one point all the men had to get off and walk through a barbed-wire corridor past soldiers. Fun fun.

The road climbed and descended often, much to my dismay, meaning lots of climbing on my return bike ride, even though overall its downhill. Its spectacular, however, and will easily be one of the most beautiful rides I've ever done.

It was dark when I was unceremoniously dumped at the side of the road in Kathmandu, and there are few/no streetlights here... a dangerous, bumpy, confusing ride into the heart of the city. As I've done a few times in India I paid a driver to guide me into my destination - following him on my bike - when it only costs $1CDN to save an hour of time and immense hassle, why not?

I'm staying in the Thamel district of Kathmandu, the backpackers centre, and it has nothing in common with the rest of Nepal, except for the Nepalese, of course. The restaurant options are the most diverse and incredible that I've seen on this trip - even more choice than in Goa! The food is AWESOME, I can find pretty much whatever I want here. And I'm taking bigtime advantage of it, with 2 very hollow legs to deal with. You name it, Thamel has it. Except for lowfat milk or rootbeer, both of which I crave like you wouldn't believe.

Jan. 29 - Hetauda, Nepal

Sunday, January 29 :: Hetauda, Nepal :: 130km today / 3114km total

After last night's forced feeding I started my ride this morning feeling... good! Steadily, carefully eating and drinking I racked up 100km. Monkeys, monkeys all over the place today - different kinds, too. Plenty of forest, I could have imagined I was in Northern Ontario or B.C., except the road here is way flatter. Past the army roadblocks, past the occasional road washout, I kept pushing along, massaging my bruised ego from yesterday's bashing.

With 26km to go the road turned North, and it all went to hell. The road went up and over my first big Himalayan range, a 16km climb with a 10km descent down the other side. I was very weak at this point, having long exhausted last night's food, and slowly, pathetically, forced my way skywards, ticking off the km's of the climb. After my nth rest a truck SLOWLY rolled by and I marked it, following, letting it pace me. Finally we crested, and it was a screaming descent into Hetauda. Again, I was completely played out and had to force myself to eat copious amounts of food, in preparation for tomorrow's ride. At the hotel I was staying at was a book of comments for and by... cyclists! Yes, I picked that hotel for that reason. It was a fantastic read, kind of you-had-to-be-there kind of stuff.

Jan. 28 - Bardibas, Nepal

Friday, January 28 :: Bardibas, Nepal :: 69km today / 2984km total

Well, today I completely fell apart. I felt terribly weak as I rolled out of Lahan, and never rebounded. At the 30km mark, YES the 30km mark, I knew I wasn't going anywhere today. I rode along VERY slowly, absolutely wasted, no energy at all. I started looking for lodging at 50km, and found it at 69km in Bardibas. After a shower I forced down 10 samosas, went to sleep, woke up, forced down 5 more, plus a plate of thali (rice and veg curry). Along with about 2 litres of Coca-Cola. Not great food, but I was desperate for calories of any kind. Tangerines, while being a mainstay for me and fantasic when I'm feeling sick, just don't cut it. I've been coughing a lot, and feel my immune system is probably pretty weak at the moment.

Now in Nepal long enough to comment on it, and contrasts with India, and the civil war. Things are definitely tense here. Businesses close early, and by 8 p.m. the streets are empty. I don't feel threatened at all, but I know I have to be wary and keep my ear to the ground. Nepalis are quite interested in talking about the Maoist situation, but I won't say anything commital either way to them, you never know who is listening. There are very frequent police/army checkpoints along the road, which often cause havoc for motorized traffic, but I sail right through, past the lineup of cars and trucks, relatively unimpeded. No one is mistaking me for a Maoist rebel. Definitely the most dangerous places to be are near the army outposts, since this is where the Maoists stage their attacks. I never stop near these places. India gets a point in terms of peace with itself and security - nowhere in India is tense that I have been (although Kashmir would be).

Nepalis, like the Darjeeling-ites, are lower key than the Indians and women seem to play a more independent, prominent role in society here. The little girls seem happier, more cheerful, and more respected here than in India - they tend to be clothed as well as their brothers (in India I saw many boys in clean, new-ish clothes while their sisters wore, essentially, rags). One point for the Nepalis. Nepali food is not as good - one point for the Indians. Make that two points - I'm on a bike trip, I need good food! Nepalis do not piss and shit anywhere they please, like the Indians do, and their temples and bus stations do not reek of urine - even in 1 million+ Kathmandu. One point for the Nepalis. There is actually forest in Nepal, a lower population density, and frequent billboards promoting condom use. India could use such billboards every, say, 5 metres throughout the entire country (I didn't see a single contraception/family planning advertizement/promotion of any kind in India). One point for the Nepalis. The countryside in Nepal is quite beautiful in many places and not covered in garbage - the Nepalis seem to respect and care for their country much more than the Indians do. One point for Nepal. Both Indians and Nepali do this terrible, god-awful deep-hork-phlegm thing that seems unnecessary since only the men do it (if there was some sort of physical need to hack up phlegm, wouldn't women need to do it too?). Neutral on that count. I'm not going to add it all up, but I think you can tell that I'm enjoying Nepal a bit more than India.

Jan. 27 - Lahan, Nepal

Thursday, January 27 :: Lahan, Nepal :: 145km today / 2915km total

With a new weld on my bike I was off and rolling again, albeit with a late morning start. I wasn't feeling that great, and Nepali food has proven to be quite inferior to Indian food. I didn't eat nearly enough the night before, and would pay for it today, bigtime.

The temperatures here at this time of year are pleasant, like May/June in Canada, and the road was flat and should have been easy. But I was exhausted, having puked my guts out repeatedly a few days before in Darjeeling and not having made up for it. It was only at the 80km mark that I started looking for a place to stay - but here, in rural Nepal, lodging was sparse, and I was in trouble. I just had to keep riding.

Then a great, unexpected sight, coming at me on the other side of the road - bike tourists like me! We both stopped, the young Dutch couple and I, and it was like we were long-lost brothers/sisters, as we launched into stories, advice, road conditions, anecdotes, etc. For half an hour we chatted away, it was really great to come across others sharing the same type of experience. They were out for a little longer than me, having cycled here from Holland.

Back on the bike I pushed along, past village after village, and finally, at the 145km mark, found accomodation in Lahan. I was completely, utterly exhausted, but forced down some food, more out of fear for tomorrow than hunger.

Jan. 26 - Damak, Nepal

Thursday, January 26 :: Damak, Nepal :: 79km today / 2770km total

Up very early amidst morning Republic Day celebrations. This marks the day that the British were kicked out from India. I've long wondered whether this was a good thing, and spent much of my ride pondering whether India would be better off if it was still ruled by the British. An extremely difficult question to answer, so many different factors and hindsight and what-ifs. Then, I hit upon it... the problem was that I was asking the question the wrong way, and its much easier to answer in the reverse. The question SHOULD be: "Could India be any worse if it was still ruled by the British?". This question is much easier for me to have an opinion on, having cycled through India for over a month... for 98% of the population, I can't imagine things being worse, in 2006. Maybe Gandhi-ji, for all his good and noble intentions, was barking up the wrong tree when he demanded the British leave.

Such thoughts are not good for my health in India on Republic Day, so border-bound I was. The West Bengalis along the roadside were quite placid, and I had a quiet ride to the border. I took it easy, never liking to show up at borders sweaty and gross. The border was a chaotic mess, and I had to double-back across it to hunt down a well-hidden Indian Immigration Office, for my stamp out. Things were extremely strange on the Nepali side... about 35 uniformed customs agents were milling around, quite excited as I approached. OK... I cautiously made my way towards them, holding out my passport and $30US visa fee. They waved all that off and motioned for me to sit down at the head of a circle of lawnchairs. I sat down and was given 2 bags of fruit, a garland of flowers, a red spot on the forehead, biscuits, and tea. All the agents excitedly sat down, chattering in Nepali, and one more-official-looking-guy asked me my name and nationality. Soon "Canada" and "Durrant" were echoing around the place, and a few speeches were made, interrupted by polite clapping. I asked what was going on... apparently today is World Customs Day, or something to that effect, and I was the first non-Indian foreigner across the border, and was to be celebrated. Alrightly then, I can roll with that. After half an hour it was all over, passport stamped, off I went.

OK here's the situation in Nepal. Nepal has a monarchy and on-again, off-again democracy. Elections are coming up. There are Maoist (Communist) rebel forces that don't like the monarchy, and think the monarchy is no good for the common Nepali. There has been a low-key but simmering civil war for a few years now, between the Nepali Army and the Maoists. Both sides are ADAMANT that tourists, particularly Western tourists, are not targets. Many tourists have come into contact with Maoists in the past few years, but none have been physically harmed.

As I rode into Nepal I noticed a commotion, not farther than 1km from the border. A Communist flag was planted in the middle of the road and a van was parked sideways, blocking one lane. Some soldiers were very upset and yelling at lots of people. Needless to say I GOT THE HELL OUT OF THERE.

Today there was some sort of strike in Nepal, and there was no road traffic except for the very occasional army vehicle or ambulance. This turned the Mahendra Highway, the road I'm riding across Nepal, into one massive... bike lane! I was the fastest thing on the road, for 15 minutes at a time. It was awesome! The freedom, the lack of fear. For the first time this trip I rode without too much concern of being flattened.

The road was extemely flat - not what you'd normally think of for Nepal. The only highway across Nepal, the Mahendra Highway, follows the Southern Border with India very closely, and hence is on the Gangetic Plain, the large flat swath of land that drains into the Ganges. The mountains are immediately to the North, but for the most part the Highway is dead flat.

13km from Damak a CRACK resonated through my bike. Yes, my frame broke again. Sigh. I got off the bike and started walking, pushing the bike along. The cracks widened and deepened as I walked, and after about 4km the bike completely broke into 2 pieces. Now I was stuck - no road traffic, how was I going to do the last 9km to Damak? There's always an answer, and along came a cart loaded with bamboo, being pushed by 3 people. Well, soon the cart was loaded with bamboo and a bicycle and being pushed by 4 people. 9km later we were in Damak, said our goodbyes, and it wasn't long before I was asleep.

Jan. 25 : Siliguri, India

Wednesday, January 25 :: Siliguri, India :: 0km today / 2691km total

Up very early for the mandatory trip to Tiger Hill for sunrise over the Himalaya. Unfortunately the clouds rolled in just in time for sunrise, so it was back towards Darjeeling with a few stops at Buddhist temples along the way. Well, last year in SE Asia I had more than my fill of Buddhist temples/wats/pagodas... and I think I'm still oversaturated. Tibetan-style temples are a little different... but still...

Back in town the clouds had parted and there was Kanchenjunga, 3rd highest mountain in the world, India's highest, and only 1000 feet lower than Everest. What a sight. With Kanchenjunga as a backdrop I walked over to the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, which trains people for high-altitude endeavours. It's also partly a shrine to Tenzing Norgay, whom everyone in this area of India idolizes, and rightfully so. Born in extreme poverty in Tibet, Tenzing took life by the horns and ending up being the first man to summit Everest, with Hillary (local lore has it that he dragged Hillary to the summit) and the main streets of towns in the area are named after him - in contrast to most of India where the main streets are named MG, after Mahatma Gandhi. His cremated body is there, on the highest point of course.

Neighbouring the HMI was a zoo, small but well-stocked with the most interesting of animals - for me - various leopards and tigers. Also on hand were pandas, bears, yaks and other herbivores, and lots of birds (yawn).

Back in town (still marvelling at the free culture here) I was feeling a little sick again and I went back to sleep. I woke just before sunset, and caught a share-jeep back down to Siliguri. Tomorrow I ride into Nepal!

Jan. 24 : Darjeeling, India

Tuesday, January 24 :: Darjeeling, India :: 3km today / 2691km total

The train ride was happily uneventful and it was morning in Siliguri as we arrived. I found a very cheap hotel for my bicycle, rented a room for it for a few days, repacked, and left for Darjeeling. Soon enough I was in a share-jeep-taxi, heading into the hills.

The road twisted, turned, and switchbacked precariously as it climbed into the mountains. The surface was bad, very bad, and I was happy with my decision to leave my bike behind for this stint. Siliguri was a mix of "typical" Indians and Tibetan/Nepalese, but as the road pushed further into the mountains it was all Tibetans/Nepalese. Driving along, looking out the window, I saw some Tibetan girls playing cricket and I started to laugh. What a strange sight. Girls playing... any sport. I suddenly realized that, although I've seen many children playing sports all over India (mostly cricket), they were all... boys. This revelation was shocking to me, even though it was right there, in front of me. I watched closer, as we drove along... Tibetan women wearing eyeshadow, walking along alone or in groups... wearing a diverse range of clothing, and it wasn't all men along the road anymore, it was a close-to-even gender mix. What a massive difference. The women here were emancipated. The people were as poor as anywhere else in India. It was the same country, same government, same movies, same sports heroes. But Buddhist, and a different perspective on life. It was FANTASTIC.

Arriving in Darjeeling I immediately fell in love with the place. For one, there are no cows to shit and piss up the streets. Walking along the alpine streets I was not harrassed, "What is your name", "What is your country", "Come see my shop". EVEN in the MARKETS. It was unbelievable. The Tibetans left me alone. They didn't care. They didn't worship (mostly) or hate (rarely) foreigners, like many people in the rest of India seem to. Prices the same as elsewhere in India, living conditions the same. Again, in the streets of Darjeeling, a healthy mix of men and women. And of course the men weren't going apeshit every time a woman, even a Western woman, walked by. They ignored them too. I couldn't believe it. I've gotten used to the Indian-in-your-face-24/7 of the rest of India, but here... I was free. Anonymous.

These contrasts, the gender contrast and the harrassment contrast, were both a huge shock, a welcome one, but a shock nonetheless. I had come to India with an open mind, I think, and have been happy to give the Indians the benefit of the doubt when it comes to some aspects of their behaviour. But now... the Tibetans were showing something different, and it really made me think. It's still sinking in, but my opinion of the rest of India has certainly been tainted by my short time among the Tibetans.

I had plenty of time to think because I was sick. From what, I wasn't (and still am not) sure. The ride up was tumultuous and certainly the motion sickness contributed, but I can't pin it all on that. For the rest of the day I was bedridden, throwing up and making frequent trips to the bathroom. Darjeeling ranges from 6500-8000 feet, normally too low for altitude sickness, so I couldn't blame it on that... could I? I refrained from taking antibiotics (I was pretty sure it wasn't something I ate) but took plenty of Immodium, and was better the following morning.

Jan. 23 : Calcutta, India

Monday, January 23 :: Calcutta, India :: 9km today / 2688km total

Up early and quickly over to the train station, very nervous. You know the final scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark, where the Ark is being stowed neatly away by a solitary clerk in a massive, unending warehouse? Imagine that, but with several bombs having gone off blowing boxes, carts, and crates into countless heaps everywhere, with 1000 people running around yelling, trying to make sense of it all and get everything onto or off of the right train, to or from the right agent. Oh ya and the ever-present, faint-or-not-so-faint scent of urine and some type of fluid on the ground, running in little rivulets from Point A to Point B, neither Point do you ever want to visit. Thats more or less what Calcutta's Howrah Train Station Parcel Warehousing was like. As such I was handed off from agent to agent, from warehouse to warehouse, in an attempt to reunite me with my bicycle. You can imagine my faith in the system I was being ushered through. But coming around one corner I saw it, gleaming in its now-dirty pearl white, jumping up and down, happy to see me. Likewise. It was quite obvious to the agent on hand that the strange bike and strange foreigner were a pair, and without much interrogation we were off.

Immediately I sought an onward ticket to Siliguri, gateway town to the Indian Himalaya. I won't go into the agony and idiocy of it all, but after 3 torturous hours that had me running from office to office, in 2 parts of town, I ended up with a 2AC (2-level sleeping berth, air-conditioned) ticket via a special Tourist Quota, on tonight's overnight train. 12 hours, I'll sleep at least 10 of them. Perfect. I immediately checked the bike in, wanting no surprises at 9 p.m. when I show up for my train. No problem, all good, I left the train station happy.

Now... shopping! For the first time in India I set out to BUY. I needed to get some gear for the Himalaya, gear that I hadn't wanted to uselessly drag with me 3000km by bike from Delhi to Trivandrum for 45 days. You don't need hiking boots or sweaters on the beach. I figured in Calcutta I would be able to find Lonely Planet's "Nepal" guidebook, hiking boots, thick socks, and a sweater, so for these things I set off. It took a while, but my happiest moment was spotting Reebok, Nike, and Adidas stores side-by-side. Are you kidding me, Western brand stores! Overall, mission successful, credit card not hurt badly at all, I'm all set for the mountains. The only downside of the shopping experience (other than the fact that I was SHOPPING) was that, carrying one bag that said "Reebok" on the side, another that said "Nike", I was an even bigger mark than usual for the touts, and they were ALL over me, relentless. Surely I wanted spices, or shawls, or a sari, or jewelry, or hash, or... I was like a lamb to the slaughter every time I left a store with a new bag in hand. Ah well, such is India.

Calcutta wasn't as bleak as my first impressions had led me to believe, and there is actually grass and grenery in some areas. It's main "sites" are mostly remnants of the British Raj (since they, essentially, built Calcutta), lots of buildings that could just as well be in Sydney or Bombay or London or Toronto. Clock towers. Government buildings. Monuments to Brits long-dead, most of whom felt the Indians, as human beings, were far beneath them. Who... really... cares.

Looking ahead: I will leave my bike in Siliguri (elevation less than 1000 feet, I think) and continue up to Darjeeling, 3 hours away, about 7000 feet above sea level. The temperatures will be too low to ride my touring bike (it IS Winter in the Himalaya), and I worry about ice and snow on the road at this time of year, as well as my dubiously-glued-together bike frame handling steep climbing/descending. Oh ya, there are some new small cracks, that may or may not have been from the crash. Darjeeling should be a fantastic few days, and I will try to arrange a mountain bike rental/ride in Darjeeling area or neighbouring Sikkim. Yes, mountain biking in the Himalaya! The thought gets me all giddy. After returning to Siliguri and picking up my bike, I will RIDE across the border into Nepal, and hopefully all the way, contiguously, to Kathmandu!

And yes, I'm watching the political situation in Kathmandu very closely. Its been a bit dicey recently, with occasional military curfews during the day, almost always at night, but the rebel Maoists are under a strict code not to harm or involve foreigners in their quest to overthrow the Nepalese Monarchy/Government. Very, very smart. Many travellers in the past few years have come across armed Maoist rebels and, at most, are kidnapped for a day, educated as to why Mao was such a great guy, and "strongly encouraged" to give a donation, $10US, for which they are issued a receipt. Sounds like fun to me! They don't do the terrorist-suicide bomb type of thing, they do co-ordinated, planned military-style attacks on government, police, and military posts. As long as I stay away from police stations, I'll be fine. I WILL be visiting the Pakistani embassy, but there is no perceived quarrel between the Maoists and the Pakistanis.

Jan. 22 : Calcutta, India

Sunday, January 22 :: Calcutta, India :: 0km today / 2679km total

Well, my man came through, and I received a 2 p.m. sleeper-class ticket to Calcutta from him this morning. I don't know how he did it, but for the small 50 rupee fee he charged me for the service I was more than happy to let him navigate the chaos of Indian train booking. The term "sleeper-class" is a misnomer and would be more accurately-named cattle- or sardine-class, but still I considered it better than the bus (same price, slightly less comfortable, but safer, faster and more hygienic, as well as being more interesting). Since it was only 7-8 hours, I figured I could manage.

I had a few hours to kill so I attended to some delinquent bike duties. One of my cycling shoe cleats needed replacing - cycling shoes "lock" your foot into the pedals, giving the cyclist more efficiency and control, similarly to the way downhill ski boots lock into skiis. My left cleat was quite worn down and starting to slip, particularly when climbing... not a tolerable situation with the Himalaya coming up! I had foreseen this and brought 2 spare cleats with me, but I needed help in getting the old, mangled one off. I found a hardware store and the ever-able staff made short work of the job, refusing payment. With a shiny new cleat on my shoe I made my way back to my hotel, packed, and left.

To my GREAT ANNOYANCE the luggage office at the train station informed me that my particular train didn't have a luggage compartment, meaning that my train couldn't take the bike. Quite agitated, I rode back to the travel agent and lit into him (I HAD told him the night before that I had a bike). It wasn't about the money ($5) that I was upset, it was about the time and hassle. He scrambled, and we ended up back at the train station, with him trying to pull some strings. The strings wouldn't pull and I was faced with the option of sending my bike along to Calcutta on a later train, and picking it up in Calcutta tomorrow morning. Very hestitantly I went with it... and left for Calcutta with great trepidation that I would never see my bike again.

With all the rushing around I hadn't eaten all day, again, and was forced to suffer through station food. There was no silver lining this time, and I grudgingly consumed the greasy, fried tidbits that Indians seem to go crazy for. It is extremely hard to avoid copious amounts of fat in Indian food; tandoori, naan, and steamed rice seem to be the only lower fat options (as well as fresh fruit, of course). It doesn't surprise me that many middle- and upper-class Indians quickly pack on the pounds. Not that Westerners don't as well, but the concept of "low-fat" for the sake of being low in fat, in India, is completely foreign.

The scenery along the tracks was quite dramatic as the train passed over many wide, shallow, dry riverbeds... All big rivers in India flow from West to East, and along the East coast they are HUGE and frequent. It was nighttime in Calcutta when we arrived and the train station was probably the biggest I've ever seen... pure madness. The taxi ride through the night gave a very bleak impression of Calcutta, and I resolved to leave for the hills tomorrow night.

Jan. 21 : Bhubaneswar, India

Saturday, January 21 :: Bhubaneswar, India :: 0km today / 2679km total

A relaxing day being driven around a few tourist sites. All of the other tourists on the bus were Indians, which is not surprising... at least 95% of tourists in India are Indians (not including package-tourism Goa). There was a refreshing gender mix among the tourists, quite a change from the everyday male-dominated streets of India. I had great conversations with many of the passengers, as they were able to speak good English. Among other things, it was interesting to discuss the fact that many high offices in India (including the 2 highest) are occupied by non-Hindus... even though India is a democracy and Hindus are 82% of the Indian population. One Hindu man I was talking to greatly emphasized that most people look past religion here, and he was happy to have a Sikh and Muslim in such high office, because he greatly respected their individual integrity and honesty. On another note I was greatly shamed to hear of another tourist who had been to Nova Scotia and had plenty of racial slurs thrown his way by the locals, and I winced when I heard the "P" word... I tried to explain that not all parts of Canada, or Canadians, are as racist or ignorant, trying to cite examples of Indian friends in Toronto who have lived many years in Canada with little to no discrimination... but what can you do when the man is standing there in front of you, with that look in his eyes, there is no excuse possible.

The Sun Temple of Konark reminded me of Angkor Wat, but much, much smaller. It's one of the temples in India thats famous for, among other things, kama sutra carvings. I wasn't allowed into the Jagannarth temple in Puri, not being a Hindu. I was completely fine with that, I feel that religious sites are not necessarily "public property" and can make their own rules about who they allow in or exclude, but several of my fellow tourists apologized for the backwardness of the temple rules and were, in turn, shamed by my exclusion. Just another example of the great diversity of thought and attitude among the Indian population.

Back in Bhubaneswar (after a 2-hour mechanical breakdown) I returned to a great restaurant that I had found, and had my 3rd mixed tandoori platter there. Yes, we're talking chicken tikka, tandoori chicken, tandoori prawn, and tandoori paneer (cheese). Add some naan bread and a Kingfisher, and you have one fantastic meal for $5CDN. In India things can go from bad to awesome to crappy to fantastic in a heartbeat, so when I find something good, I stick with it! I tried to get bus ticket out of here tomorrow, but somehow ended up with a promised train ticket tomorrow instead, from a small shop, even though I've been led to believe that all trains out of here are booked for a week... it all seems a bit shady and I might be out my 100 rupee deposit if the man doesn't show up tomorrow. Then again, if he doesn't show up his shop will be missing a few windows, so we'll be even.

Jan. 20 : Bhubaneshwar, India

Friday, January 20 :: Bhubaneswar, India :: 0km today / 2679km total

A day to recover and refuel. I walked around the town today, saw the sights, kind of interesting, all Hindu. I booked a tour, yes a TOUR, with a tour bus and guide and everything, for tomorrow, to go see the nearby Sun Temple of Konark (the main reason I'm here in Bhubaneswar), as well as a few other things. Can you tell I'm getting travel-weary? It'll be nice to just sit there and let someone else think things through for a day. Just for a day.

I spent a horrible 2 hours at the train station, trying to book onwards tickets, only to ultimately find out that all trains North are booked solid for the next week. I could try for the waiting list but with the bike to deal with, its just not feasible. Well, back to the bus. The nice thing about buses is that there are ALWAYS buses and they're cheaper than trains, even if they do sometimes ding me a luggage fee for the bike. A general rule of thumb for many travellers is that if a trip is less than 6 hours, take a bus; longer, take a train. Hopefully there aren't too many horrid pitstops enroute to Calcutta, 10 hours away.

I've had to spend a lot of time dealing with Indians in a lot of different ways in the past 3 days. Haggling has never been my favourite thing to do, but I've been forced to play the game quite a bit. I wish there were flat rates, but such is the way it is here. Unfortunately for the Indians the power is really in the hands of the tourist, if you know how to use it. The thing is, here in India, there are 10-20 people selling the exact same thing, all lined up in a row. Its called "overpopulation". What you do, as a tourist, is pick a price you know is fair, not penny-pinching but fair, before you talk to the vendors. Walk up to the first, say, tuk-tuk (taxi) and say "railway station - 30 rupees?" If he tries to counterbargain, ignore and walk to the next guy, 3 feet away. "railway station - 30 rupees?" Of course he heard the first offer, and can choose to take it or not. I've never got further than the 3rd or 4th tuk-tuk (or tangerine seller, etc) before being taken up on my offer. It may sound harsh, but its their game, not mine; my way through it is terribly efficient and I always get the price I want.

I've been quoting a lot of prices throughout my blog to get across how cheap travel can be here in India, and the value you get for your money. But it is a two-way street; even with my budget-style travel the Indians that I meet and pay are very happy with my business. To put things in perspective, the poorest of working Indians makes about 40-50 rupees per day, thats $1-$1.25 CDN. A typical tuk-tuk ride costs 30 rupees. A typical, full roadside meal costs about 80 rupees. A typical night in a guesthouse is 250-300 rupees. I tip very highly, always - when the difference between a crappy tip and a high tip is about 10-20 cents, why not put a big smile on someone's face, someone that has done you a service, for less than a quarter?

Jan. 19 : Bhubaneswar, India

Thursday, January 19 :: Bhubaneswar, India :: 2km today / 2679km total

24 hours is too long on a train in India. Especially when it turns into 29 hours, as the train suffered a 5-hour delay. I had a 2-tier sleeping cabin, basically, that means that there are 4 people in a "compartment", 2 on each side, lying on flat padded benches, bedding provided. Its comfortable enough, and certainly not the cheapest option (I paid $40CDN for the trip), there is first class which is more expensive.

The problem is that there's nothing to do, on the train. The train jostles and bumps around a bit too much to read (for motion-sickness-prone-me), there's no tv's or dining car or anything like that. All you can do is sleep, which is great for 10, 12, 14 hours... but then what? The food served is very poor, so I occupied myself with jumping off the train at station stops and quickly scouring the options, one eye on the train. A couple of times I hit the jackpot, finding COLD drinks and decent food (tangerines, etc), which of course only encouraged my foolishness further. And of course I pushed it a bit too far at one point, and frantically jumped back on the train 5-10 cars too late... I had to hang onto the side of an open, people-filled sleeper-class cabin (sleeper class means pack-your-bodies-in-like-sardines-class). By the time we got to the next station my arms were aching and I had had a bit too much wind and excitement for my liking. It was a late late 2 a.m. that we rolled into Bhubaneswar.

Jan. 18 : Madras, India

Wednesday, January 18 :: Madras (Chennai), India :: 9km today / 2677km total

There was one reason that I had come to Madurai, to see the Sri Meenakshi Temple complex (Hindu), and as usual I was there very early to beat the crowds and have a chance to see the place. Hindu temples certainly have a distinct character to them; basically, they are loud in all senses. Music playing, smoke and incense, with brightly and garishly painted figurines, ceilings and pillars. Flashing lights, vendors with brightly, garishly lit booths, colourul carvings of all sorts of deities doing all sorts of things. Hindu temples are never dull, thats for sure. There are sacred animals inside, although it was hard for me to tell the difference between Sacred Elephant and Terribly-Bored-But-Well-Fed-Elephant. Hindu religion is filled with animals... but they're all native to India... I'm not sure how you push Hinduism as a world religion when it's extremely biozone discriminatory. Are animals from other parts of the world lesser beings? Hinduism would suggest so. I mean, where's the sacred kangaroo? The holy polar bear? Now THAT would be a religion I could buy into.

Out of the temple, over to a 5-star hotel for breakfast. Yum. For only $2.50CDN it was a buffet, with many Western items. The coup-de-grace was the bottomless freshly squeezed pineapple juice. These breakfasts are aimed at guests of the hotel, for whom they are free... but they work great for me!

To the train station... booking trains straight through to Bhubaneswar, on India's Central Eastern coast (North of Bombay, which is on the West coast). The first 9 hour train ride to Madras was quite uneventful. After some messiness getting my bike loaded onto the second train, I braced myself for a 24-hour train journey.

Jan. 17 : Madurai, India

Tuesday, January 17 :: Madurai, India :: 70km today / 2668km total

I finished my ride from Delhi to South India today with a brisk 70km into Trivandrum. Even early in the morning I was sweating from the heat. The true Southern tip of India is 80km away, but I feel no need to ride there. I've had it with the heat, and am aching for cooler, more moderate temperatures. Yes, the Canadian in me is starting to revolt. It's time to head North. Fast. I will travel by bus and train up the East coast to Calcutta, then further North into the Himalaya.

Trivandrum held little of interest for me, so I hopped on a bus for an 8-hour ride to Madurai. What a nightmare that was. Firstly, the movies. Now, I do like some Indian movies, but I was in Tamil Nadu, and the Tamil movies shown were a bit... different than their Hindi/Bollywood counterparts. Tamils seem to be shorter and more pot-bellied than other Indians, and so seem to be their movie-stars... maybe it's just Western steroid/plastic-surgery film star conditioning but its hard to buy into an action hero whose belly is significantly larger than his pecs, or to empathize with an aged, rug-wearing, triple-chinned love interest 20-30 years older than his petite, cute female conquest.

Then there were the bus stations and pitstops. Now, generally in India if you are looking for a bus station, train station, or Hindu temple, the proper procedure is to stand still, close your eyes, sniff the air, and follow the scent of urine to it's source (for some reason mosques and churches seem to escape the pee... I'm guessing its either due to smaller volumes of worshippers, and/or the fact that they don't keep large beasts inside). Well, the pitstops along the Trivandrum-Madurai route were particularly exemplary of this... I could smell an upcoming pitstop from the bus while we were still driving towards it. I said "Oh God No" to myself as the bus braked, and rolled in. All the men piled out of the bus and started peeing. Everywhere. I had to get out of there, so walked out to the road, and upwind for a bit. I'm not sure how the women stand it, or how they deal with Indian men in general (the men have many odious personal habits that the women do not seem to have - Indian women seem quite cultured and refined compared to their male counterparts).

Late into Madurai, and into a Hotel across the road from the bus station.

Jan. 16 : Kolliyam, India

Monday, January 16 :: Kolliyam, India :: 149km today / 2598km total

Rolled out of Cochin full of energy. The morning was coolish, and I moved quickly along the very flat, fast road. For some reason the further South I get the more attention I'm drawing from the locals; I'm guessing its either because there are fewer tourists down here, or that my skin colour contrast with the locals is greater in the South than in the North (the Northern Indians are much fairer, so on the road, especially from a distance, I am less visibly foreign up North). Either way, its getting quite annoying, since sometimes the South Indians go to extreme measures to get me to stop and talk to them, like running onto the road, making me swerve to avoid hitting them. I'm very happy to have conversations with people on scooters, tuk-tuks, etc. who drive beside me for a few minutes, but the yelling out of "What Is Your Name?", "Where are you Going?" as I roll by idle men at speeds too fast to allow me to answer is starting to drive me crazy. There certainly is some sort of satisfaction garnered by the locals in having spoken a few sentences with me, even if the conversation was meaningless, which they are 95% of the time. I have come to realize that I may be more of a "tourist attraction" to the Indians than India is to me.

Rolling past the 120km mark I was thinking of a 200km+ day, but a minor twang in my knee put an end to that idea. I stopped in Kolliyam, which looked decent enough on the roll-through, but on closer inspection by foot was quite spartan in the necessities. I had the worst meal I've had in India, a ghee-laden chicken biryani with chicken that I wouldn't touch... I had to buy tangerines and a package of Arrowroots to get through the night.

It rained for 10 minutes today, my first bit of rain in India! This is the cool, dry, season, hence the best for cycling. "Cool" is all relative, however... even though January is the coolest month I'm still sweating from the heat. I cannot imagine being here during the hot season, or monsoon.

Jan. 15 : Cochin, India

Sunday, January 15 :: Cochin, India :: 0km today / 2449km total

Another quiet, relaxing day. Too relaxing... I'm starting to feel stir crazy (again!). However, the food was AWESOME today... toast with butter and jam for breakfast, there is real juice here, and for dinner I hit the seafood market again, this time picking up 2 calamari for 100 rupees. For another 50 they were cooked for me, in garlic, onion, etc... the best calamari I've ever had. Too good.

Much of my day has been spent pondering what to do with the 3-4 weeks between now the final 5-6 weeks I'm planning to spend in Nepal, the Indian Himalaya, Punjab, and Delhi. I've decided to give Bangladesh a miss, since it's less developed for tourism than India is, and India is already pushing it to the limit for me, at times. I had also originally planned to go to Sri Lanka, but a number of things has put me off that notion:
a) the simmering civil war there that has escalated a bit recently
b) the insider cycling information that the roads there are poor compared to India's , and
c) the fact that there's nothing there that particularly intrigues me.

But what to do instead? The three things I'm looking at are:
1) riding some of the East side of India, which originally I had planned to miss
2) flying to the Andaman Islands from Calcutta or Madras for 1-2 weeks of Sun, snorkeling, and surf, or
3) extending my trip into... Pakistan!!

I still haven't decided, but I do know that (inshallah) I ride out of here tomorrow morning. The Southern tip of India is a few days away.

Jan. 14 : Cochin, India

Saturday, January 14 :: Cochin, India :: 4km today / 2449km total

Its amazing the difference that a day off the bike makes. I'm healing very quickly, and feel a lot better. I guess without a 4000-6000 calorie expenditure burden the body can turn it's attention to more important things, like fixing itself up. I might even ride tomorrow - the burn on my leg is the slowest healer, so we'll see.

I took a morning bus and ferry down to Cochin today, and love this place! Cochin is an old European settlement on a small peninsula jutting into the Arabian Sea, and it truly feels unique in many ways, here in India. Its quite clean, quite laid back, there's no beach so it doesn't have the associated tackiness/over-the-top Goan party scene, and its as well-supplied with Western rarities as I've seen anywhere (Gatorade, juice, baguettes, etc). Also there's a seafood market, with product direct from the fishermen... you haggle with the fishermen, buy your seafood, then walk 10 metres (literally) to a cook who serves it up how you like it. For $3.50 I had a heaping plate of garlic sizzled prawn.

The other great thing about Cochin is that there's a small but healthy, interesting community of travellers here. Kerala (State) is certainly not on the main tourist route, you have to go a bit further off the beaten path to get here, so the travellers are kinda more my vibe than in Goa. Also, I met my first fellow cyclist today! Not on the road, but I happened to notice a bike parked in the hotel that wasn't local... he's an Aussie, we're cycling different directions, but still it was like brothers-in-arms as we compared notes, gave onwards route info, etc etc.

Today was Day 1 of the long-anticipated India vs. Pakistan cricket series. India is completely consumed with cricket, much more than Canada is with hockey. Leading into this event there was a major controversy involving the inclusion/exclusion of a particular player, and Parliament had to intervene. Aside from the fact that cricket is the national passion, Pakistan is easily the most important adversary, in more ways than one. The series goes on for a few weeks, and I'm guessing that the temperment of the average Indian I meet hereafter will be greatly influenced by the results of this event.

Jan. 13 : Calicut, India

Friday, January 13 :: Calicut, India :: 0km today / 2445km total

I woke up terribly tired, exhausted, and aching. Some bruising coming through now from yesterday's crash. Lots of little things wrong with me, all over, not just from the accident but attrition from a month of cycling in India. Crash-wise my left side in general, from shoulder to shin, is not happy. A small burn on my leg from a bubbling prawn sizzler in Palolem a while back has still not healed. I have some sort of throat infection that has been slowly coming on, I'm guessing from the constantly-smoky, particle-filled air here that I suck in way too deeply when I'm cycling. I need to be 100%+ to face India's roads, and I'm at least a few days away from that.

So I slept much of the day away, but still feel exhausted. My fingers are slowly healing, even still I hypochondriached myself into the hospital to get a second look, but they agreed that nothing was broken and that my fingers will heal in a few days. I saw another Indian movie, in the theatre, and it was quite good. Still, I'm getting stir-crazy, having exhausted my entertainment options in Calicut, so I've booked a morning bus ride down to Cochin/Ernakulam (sp?) tomorrow.

Jan. 12 : Calicut, India - crash

Thursday, January 12 :: Calicut, India :: 120km today / 2445km total

Lets play a game. Its called Which Type Of Road Hazard Left Graham Scraped and Bleeding on the Road Today. Here are your options, the 5 most dangerous hazards on India's roads:

a) bus
b) truck
c) bicycle
d) pedestrian
e) tourist/pilgrim minibus

Have you picked your answer? Good, here we go.

I woke tired, very tired. I've only had one day off the bike since leaving Bombay, and its really starting to show in all sorts of aches, pains, and general fatigue. I set a destination of Calicut, 110km away, and a probable full day off tomorrow. It took 15km to wake the legs up, and even then I was struggling.

-> Buses and trucks tend to hang out in the centre of the road (since they own it). Although they pose a tremendous hazard to each other, it is rare that they hang out at the paved margin, where I do all my riding, so an encounter with them isn't that likely. Also, they are loud on the horn and rumble along quite noisily, so I always know where they are. No, it wasn't a) or b).

My first wrong turn of the trip added 10km and many steep hills to my ride, and I cursed my foolishness. Already tired, this was not what I needed. But the ever-helpful Indians guided me back to the main highway, now 60km out of Calicut. It was hot, I was tired, but the road was immaculately smooth and quite flat, so with renewed energy and optimism I pushed forward.

-> Pilgrims drive with complete reckless abandon, and are a real danger. I'm guessing that its either that they feel extra-blessed and protected while on their pilgrimage, or they are partaking of sensory-enhancers to liven the pilgrimming mood. Tourist mini-buses, very similar, are driven madly by Indians who know a good tip awaits a fast delivery to/from the airport. Outside of Goa tourist minibuses are fairly non-existent. But no, it wasn't a minibus that did me in today.

20km from Calicut it happened. I was hammering along a flat, down on the aerobars, taking a corner. At the same time an Indian cyclist took the same corner. The problem was, he was on the wrong side of the road - my side - riding against the traffic. What was he thinking - suppose I had been a motorcycle or tuk-tuk? Neither of us had much time to react, basically, the options were Swerve Left or Swerve Right. I went Right, he went Left - which meant we both went the wrong way (consider direction of travel). SMACK. If you remember your High School Physics and know that I had about 50lbs, 15km/h, and a few inches height on him you'll know how things ended up - me and my bike on top of him and his bike. First thought: GET OFF THE ROAD. Second thought: CHECK THE WHEELS. A very tense, slow, 5 seconds... my wheels are unreplacable in India. Amazingly the rims were not bent. The bike was still ridable.

Now I turned my attention to him. I'm not really prone to anger or outbursts, as you probably know, but 2400km of dealing with psycho, idiotic drivers came out of me in one shot at him. I didn't touch him, but a physical beating would probably have left shallower scars than the browbeating and screaming that he took, in both English and Hindi (or maybe he'll just laugh the whole thing off later). He was young, so I knew he understood the simple, emphatic English that came out of me. He acknowledged fault, whimpered Sorry over and over again, but it just wasn't good enough. Eventually he rolled off, escaping from my rage, seemingly unhurt.

As I straightened the handlebars I noticed blood dripping off me onto the road. Fucking great. Turning attention to myself for the first time I realized that two of my left fingers were bleeding heavily enough to more-or-less cover my hand in blood, and my left elbow was scraped up. I walked over to the nearest house and politely asked if I could use their water tap. They were more than happy to help and I had to softly refuse all sorts of amenities. I did a quick wash/Polysporin/band-aid job and rolled off slowly towards Calicut, steering now with one-and-a-half hands.

Unbelievably, no more than 500 metres later two women darted out onto the road, oblivious to traffic coming in either direction. I was one of the eithers, and brushed heavily against one woman, but I did not go down. What the Hell, was this National Knock The White Guy Off His Bike Day? Am I taking crazy pills? I pinched myself to see if I was awake, recounted that I haven't had any alcohol, dizzy spells, heatstroke, etc. today. My only two contacts with traffic in India, within 1km of each other. How is this possible? I had to stop for a drink of lime water, just to re-boot and try to dispel whatever karmic nightmare I'd gotten myself into. The ever-friendly Indians asked me the usual "How are you?" to which I had to respond, bloody and scraped and incredulous at the past 20 minutes, "I'm doing shitty, how are you?" When learning English in Grade School this is not the response they are taught to expect, so they kind of wandered off without answering, perplexed.

In Calicut I did a more thorough cleaning and splinted the badly cut middle finger - its cut at the knuckle, so the finger needs to be kept straight for the skin to heal properly. Stitches would probably be overkill - only 3-4 would be required, and I've handled cuts like this before. It'll be fine in a few days. Needless to say, I won't be riding ANYWHERE tomorrow.

Jan. 11 : Taliparamba - Kerala State!

Wednesday, January 11 :: Taliparamba, India :: 129km today / 2325km total

Another early morning with more confusing roads, but eventually I extricated myself from Mangalore and was back into the rolling coastal countryside. It wasn't far to the border, time for another State - Kerala! Kerala is known as a quiet, affluent, beautiful state with backwater boat trips along palm-tree-lined placid waterways being a tourist must-do. Thats a few days away yet.

A hillier day than I had expected, and although I'm climbing well now (the hell through the Ghats seems to be paying off) it was still a slow ride to Kasaragod, my first waypoint town at 51km in. The road deteriorated into a bumpy chaotic mess for the next 25km, and it was slow slow riding with one eye on the welding prospects. As the heat rose the hills continued, and I spent a good 8km racing an oil truck - passing it on the climbs AND descents, too much fun. Eventually I had to stop for food though, but I'm happy to say it was a few minutes until the truck passed the eatery.

I've found a fantastic, simple new drink that will probably be a staple of the rest of my time here in South Asia - freshly squeezed lime juice (JUST the juice from the lime) mixed by me with bottled mineral water. It takes some explaining, since the Indians usually like to add sugar and salt (as well as tap water) to lime juice, but its heaven once they get the gist of what I'm after. Incredibly refreshing, I can put away 2 litres of water like this in one short sitting. Sometimes they think its strange that I don't want the salt or sugar, but then again, I think its strange that they worship beings with monkey or elephant heads, so we're even.

Things are definitely different here in Kerala. For the first time I've seen food served on a leaf. The backwaters are very beautiful when the road crosses them, its palm trees in all directions. The people are a little darker-skinned than their Northern cousins, and the men often walk around with a sarong-like garment wrapped around their legs. English is less-widely spoken than I thought it would be, but apparently literacy is close to 100% here (of the local tongue).

Just after the afore-mentioned food stop I felt woozy, too much blood in the belly, not enough in the head. The legs were dead, the heat was full-on, time to call it a day. Tonight I have another immaculate marble-floored room with TV, hot water, double bed, etc etc, very cheap at $8.

Jan. 10 : Mangalore, India

Tuesday, January 10 :: Mangalore, India :: 150km today / 2196km total

Up early, before sunrise. Fear is always a powerful motivator. Sliding out onto the road I was dismayed that it was at least 20C out. I gunned it, riding very hard, not getting off the bike for 50km... a quick Pepsi, then another uninterrupted 50km. Before 11 a.m. I passed the 100km mark, having 50km to go, so I could let up and take the rest of the ride easy. And it was a good thing, since the temperature skyrocketed again today, leaving me with a headache as I rolled into Mangalore. It took me quite a while to navigate through Mangalore's mangled network of streets, but the Indians are always friendly and helpful, and they guided me in.

The roads continue to be filled with carnage; today I passed 2 "fresh" accidents. The accidents always seem to be head-on truck-truck or truck-bus or bus-bus, and it's no surprise since these large vehicles act as if they own the road, passing very aggressively. I haven't seen any accidents involving tuk-tuks or scooters or motorcycles, so I'm in good company. I have seen a couple of local cyclists get nailed, and have almost hit some of them myself; Indian cyclists ride relatively quickly but weave tremendously, and often ride side-by-side with friends, seemingly oblivious to the road conditions around them.

While pondering the carnage situation I came to a sudden, shocking realization; in the 2200km I've ridden I haven't seen a single policeman patrolling the roads. There are police checkpoints, but no traffic cops out to nail speeders or people doing something stupid (believe me, this would be a major cash cow if they decided to do this). Lines on the roads are also commonly non-existent. So bascially the Indian Government, in their infinite wisdom, has decided that road traffic is a free-for-all. It may help with the overpopulation problem, but I'm not sure its good for the economy.

Jan. 9 : Bhatkal, India

Monday, January 9 :: Bhatkal, India :: 60km today / 2046km total

A late start again, that I paid for quite dearly. The forecast for nearby Mangalore was for a daytime high of 35C, and by 11 a.m. it was incredibly hot on the road. After stopping off to see a temple with a giant, 40m-high Shiva, I was having a very rough time turning the pedals over... the heat was kicking the crap out of me. There was only really one thing to do, and that was to stop early, so I did. From here to Sri Lanka I will have to shift my day/night patterns into pre-dawn wakeup times, furious and desparately fast riding from 6-10 a.m., easing up after, and stopping around noon or 1 p.m. Its ironic that Delhi had its coldest day in 70 years, yesterday... but Delhi is half a Subcontinent away, now, and South India is very different.

Another of the many ironies in India is that many to most shop signs are written in English, as well are many posters inside the shops... yet the vendors often speak little to no English, and very likely can read even less of it. Today in particular I walked into a travel agency to find Internet, and they had posters in English blanketing the place, many with extensive English verbage. When I asked (in English) where I could find Internet (in those exact words), their heads wobbled sideways and they said "Hindi! Hindi only!". I waved my hand across the many posters on their walls and said "English?", but to no avail.

Jan. 8 : Kumta, India

Sunday, January 8 :: Kumta, India :: 122km today / 1986km total

A late, noon-time start due to a mild hangover, today's ride was going to be questionable. The Indian drivers were in fine form, forcing me off the road at least 3 times with their antics. I'm not sure what happens when a typically pleasant, helpful, thoughtful Indian man slides in behind a steering wheel and turns the ignition, but it must be something akin to lycanthropy or schizophrenia. Or maybe, like East Asian lactose intolerance, or the Westerner I-have-everything-anyone-could-want-but-will-whine-about-my-life-anyway gene, Indians don't have the gene that generates such thoughts as "maybe passing this truck on a mountainside blind corner ISN'T a good idea".

The ride was through very lush terrain, all leafy and palmy all around. The roadside is remarkably clean, actually even the towns are much cleaner than North Indian towns, and I have no idea why. Entering Kumta I saw a beautiful hotel with marble floor, etc. etc. and checked the price... $7.50 for a fantastic room - double bed, flush toilet, TV, very clean! This place was not far off from a North American chain hotel/motel like Best Western. Of course I took it, and ate well that night.

Jan. 7 : Palolem, India

Saturday, January 7 :: Palolem, India :: 0km today / 1864km total

A complete beach/pool day. We (Maggie from Saskatoon and I) walked a few km's to a nearby 5-star resort and hung out at their immaculate pool all day (they had a hedge maze too!). As long as you act cocky, oblivious to the local culture, and don't say "thank you" to the staff you fit right in with the other guests at these places, and they have no idea that you're trespassing and actually staying at a $7 beach hut down the road, rather than their $300/night rooms. I had to catch myself a few times from saying things in Hindi or Arabic - a dead give-away that I'm a backpacker! For the cost of a few overpriced Kingfishers it was well worth the time.

The food is spectacular here, but already I'm itching to move on, back to Real India. Palolem is kind of a cross between Thailand, Hawaii, and Centre Island (Toronto)... nice... but the dark outline of the Ghats in the background get the legs all jumpy with excitement and anticipation...

Jan. 6 : Palolem, India

Friday, January 6 :: Palolem, India :: 99km today / 1864km total

Last night during dinner I met a Saskatoonian who was interested in cycling out to Old Goa, to see the churches, 9km away... sounded good, so in the morning off we went, me on my bike, her on a rental. Fun for the morning.

Back in Panaji I put the war paint on and set out for Palolem, 75km away. It was very hot under the midday Sun but the tailwind was strong, the road flat, and I blew away the first 35km to Margao. In Margao something strange caught the corner of my eye, something in a shop window... Gatorade! Drink options in India have been minimal (water or pop), but apparently I will be able to find Gatorade on and off from now on. Unbelievably good luck.

Feeling quite cocky and very positive I left Margao for the final 40km to Palolem. Figuring the road would be flat and easy I cut loose, hammering along... then the Ghats appeared again and all went to hell. A final brutal, winding climb left me dizzy and weak, but it was all downhill for the last 8km to Palolem.

Palolem is bigger and busier than I expected, to my dismay. The beach is a beautiful crescent, bounded by headlands, about 1km long. Its wall-to-wall bamboo beach huts, restaurants, little shops, etc. Everything is geared towards backpackers, marginally, but you get the feel that in 10-15 years it will all be Hiltons and Marriots. Kind of a last gasp at being under-the-radar. Still, the food is fantastically varied, the Indians are laid-back, the tourists all have smiles, the rooming is cheap ($7.50 hut on stilts), the beer is cheap, the beach is clean... but it's no Thailand/Ko Pha Ngan.

Jan. 5 : pics pics pics pics

These are from the last week or so, and not in any particular order.


A weld

Sunset over the Arabian Sea

New Year's Eve fair at Murud (the little structure on the beach is the motorcycle Sphere of Death

A small room in Bombay

Icing the knee

Heaven in the form of chicken tikka

On the ferry to Elephant Island (Bombay harbour)

The Taj hotel in Bombay

Bombay harbour

Typical street scene, Bombay

Heaven to a cyclist. Paved shoulder, 2 lanes, light traffic, smooth road, great scenery. This is Southern Rajasthan, out of Udaipur.

Stine and Lydia, Udaipur

Stine, happy to be going to Thailand, Udaipur

Church of Immaculate Conception, Panaji, Goa

View from my beach hut, Southern Maharastra

My beach hut, Southern Maharastra

Island fortress, taken from ferry crossing, Konkan Coast of Maharastra

Ferry roof, Konkan Coast of Maharastra

Ferry wharf, Konkan Coast of Maharastra

Disaster waiting to happen, Konkan Coast of Maharastra

Jan. 5 : Panaji, India - Goa at last!

Thursday, January 5 :: Panaji (Goa), India :: 63km today / 1765km total

An early morning, I was quite excited, for today would be an easy ride to... Goa! Goa is one of India's smallest, richest States... a former Portuguese colony that is known for it's beaches. It stretches for 100km along the Arabian Sea, and its all sand. If you've ever seen pictures of beaches in India, or package beach trips to India, very likely they were of/to Goa (other than the tsunami footage, which was of the East coast). I have spent quite a bit of time reviewing the beach options, but really there's only one place for me to head to, the backpacker's mecca of Palolem (and neighbouring Patnem, which is rumoured to have the closest thing to surf in India). All the backpackers I've met have talked longingly of Palolem, eyes glazing over in rememberance, so although I had decided to check out the other beaches, I wouldn't likely linger elsewhere. Palolem is at the very South end of Goa, so I wouldn't make it there today, but that's ok.

Well, for 63km the ride was much hillier than expected, but nothing like the past 2 days, and climbs that before would have seemed "large" were easily shrugged off. I started giggling (literally) when I saw a white person, the first I'd seen in 5 days. Also funny was the way the foreigners drove around on motorbikes... I'm very accustomed to the Indian-style agile, fast, crazy motorbike driving... the foreigners cautiously corner, pass, stop and start, while the Indians (and me!) fly by them. Loads of entertainment.

I traipsed slowly down the coast, past the more famous of Goa's beaches; Anjuna, Vagator, Baga, etc. Tacky, overpriced, package-tourist central, nice to ride through, grab a drink, but not my cup of chai. All is tropical, palm trees everywhere, close your eyes and think of beach paradise, I can expect this, more or less, for the next 1000km Southbound to the tip of India.

I pulled into Panaji, Goa's capital, for a half-day rest and meander through this old Portuguese town. Goa's wealth is readily apparent here, this is one of the first places I've seen in India where the poverty is not in-your-face. I did the obligatory walking tour, buildings, temples, churches, yawn. I found a great little restaurant that was overflowing with local customers... Graham's Travel Tip #53: Eat Where The Locals Eat. It was so busy that you grabbed any available seat at any table. Being an anomaly I was quickly seated, I'm sure I must've skipped the line, but the Indians like having unusual company. For $4CDN I had a fantastic meal of prawn, mussels, and a 650ml Kingfisher (beer). I love India.

Palolem is only 75km away... and I'm pretty banged up from a very tough 6 days; perfect time and place for a multi-day stop.

Jan. 4 : near Vangurla, India

Wednesday, January 4 :: Beach hut 20km South of Vangurla, India :: 152km today / 1702km total

The map suggested that today's ride would be a repeat of yesterday's torturous hills, so I left Rajapur mentally prepared to have my ass kicked again all day. The early 3km climb out of Rajapur reinforced this notion, as again I was forced to dig deep in the early morning hours. But after a difficult 30km the road stayed high, following the tops of the Ghats, never descending too deeply, and in turn never forcing me to climb for longer than about a kilometre. It was very, very hot, but I ignored the heat, thankful that the massive climbing seemed to be over.

The terrain on top of the Ghats was rolling, much like farmland Southern Ontario that I've spent many years cycling, terrain that I know how to ride quickly and efficiently. Thundering through the bottoms of descents, hammering the lower slopes of shorter climbs to build enough momentum to roll over the crests, often without having to stand and dance on the pedals... this was more like it! Now I could use the tailwind that blows down the Western side of India at this time of year; crouching down on the aerobars, flying. By 1 p.m. I blew past the 100km that I had previously set as a goal for the day, and for the first time since leaving Bombay I felt IN CONTROL of my destiny... the bike was working, I was flying, I could pick and choose where I would sleep that night. Things were beginning to look up.

I dropped out of the Ghats and met the Arabian sea at Vengurla, the most Southerly town of any size in Maharastra State. There was no accomodation there, but I was not worried since the road stayed coastal... coastal means beaches and accommodation. 20km along I stopped at a relatively deserted cluster of beach huts... that night I slept in a hut that was literally beachfront. Even though I was quite tired I hiked to the summit of the neighbouring volcanic headland for a spectacular view of the setting Sun over the Arabian Sea.

Jan . 3 : Rajapur - hell in the Ghats

Tuesday, January 3 :: Rajapur, India :: 117km today / 1550km total

Well, I knew today would be hilly, but had no idea the hell in store for me. It was a full day of brutal, unrelenting, switchbacking climbs and descents through India's Western Ghats (mountains that stretch down India's West Coast). The first 4km out of Chiplun was all uphill, having me dig far too deep, far too early in the day. Every descent was heartbreaking, as fun and furious as they were, because I knew that it meant more climbing ahead. Even the trucks were struggling, and at one point I was playing leapfrog for about 5km with 2 particular trucks; I was climbing with them, they would pass me on the short flats, and I would pass them on the screaming descents. It might sound fun, but it was painful, all day long. I must've looked like a complete mess to the people I was passing by; sweat dripping off of my face onto my bike and clothes, teeth gritted, struggling, struggling upwards.

The terrain was beautiful, when I had time to enjoy it, which wasn't often. The deep valleys were green, lush, and tropical. The summits were dry, barren, and dusty. At least the road surface was smooth, thank God. I consumed vast quantities of liquids, but little food. Finally, I limped into Rajapur, absolutely exhausted.

When I stop at a town that I know nothing about (i.e. not in my guidebook) I usually head for town centre, then figure out from there where I want to stay; I like having access to the market, and scouting out the restaurants. The road to the centre of Rajapur was a very steep 1km descent... with nothing of use at the bottom... no place to stay, no market. I had to retrace my steps, but there was no way I was riding back up that hill, exhausted as I was, so I walked it, pushing my bike along, quite unashamedly. After reaching the main road and checking into the only guesthouse in town I flopped down onto the bed, completely, utterly wiped out. There would be no clothes-washing or stretching tonight.

Jan. 2 : Chiplun - continued problems

Sunday, January 2 :: Chiplun, India :: 60km today / 1433km total

If things went smoothly during a trip there wouldn't be much to talk about or remember, would there? I have decided that something or someone - Shiva, Allah, Ganesh, Brahma, Buddha, Krishna, I don't know who - does not want me to ride through India. I have also decided that I just must be too powerful, ripping apart my bike as I am :-)

After an unpleasant night (don't ask - but a prison cell would have been preferable) I rolled out of Mandangarh. Yes, 10km into the ride my pedals were wobbling again. I pulled into a "town" and waited for a bus to the main road, where I was hoping I could get more expertise than here in the middle of... nothing.

During the bus ride I had plenty of time to think. There's a metal cylinder inside my bottom bracket that is wobbling around and had lost some sort of tightening piece, that connects it to the frame. Well. The cylinder is steel and my frame is steel... and I wanted the cylinder to stop wobbling... after seeing some bike guys to tighten up the bottom bracket I asked to get it welded, so that it wouldn't move... ever again. This is not a solution I would have gone for in Canada, but here in India there are no spare parts for my kind of bike, and welding would just have to do. So for the 2nd time in about 36 hours a welding torch blasted away at my bike.

Now, onto the main North-South highway that connects Bombay to Goa. My pedals have a faint wobble, not noticable under most conditions, it will have to do. The road was smooth but immediately launched skywards for 4 tough kilometres. Topping the climb I was on a dry, very hot plateau, too far now from the Arabian Sea for any cooling breeze. Finally a long, winding descent, so twisting that I caught up to vehicles in front of me - on a bike I can take tight corners far faster than a car or bus, since I can ride tangents that they can't. I decided to stop early for the day, and start at dawn tomorrow... I was quite beaten mentally, physically, as well as being sleep and food-deprived from the last 2 days.

In town I scouted out a restaurant with a tandoor (Indian barbecue oven) so that I could get barbecued food and meat. The rice and curries are very greasy, in every place I've been so far in India, so tandoors are a great find. Also, I think meat cooked in a tandoor must be relatively safe. I picked up some tangerines (8 cents each) and a small watermelon (75 cents) to top it off.

Its 300km to the sun-kissed beaches of Goa... 2 days?

Jan .1 : Mandangarh - more problems

Saturday, January 1 :: Mandangarh, India :: 70km today / 1373km total

I woke up to the sound of the sea and seagulls... nice. The room, however, had been quite marginal and I was anxious to get on the road. I decided to continue down the coast, improvising where the map failed for lack of detail. Initially I rode VERY cautiously... one eye on the road, one eye on the welds... but the welds would hold, for at least 2 days.

The scenery was magnificent... the Western Ghats (mountains) meet the Arabian Sea here, and there were many breathtaking views all day in all directions. The road itself was poorly surfaced, tortuously twisting, swooping, climbing, switchbacking, descending. A tough, bumpy ride, leaving me sore all over.

Around 50km in I realized something was wrong with the bottom bracket (pedal axle). It was loose and clanking. Sigh. Here we go again. Knowing that riding on it would only make it worse I dismounted and started to walk. After a few truck rides, 10km of walking, and lots of downhill coasting, I pulled into Mandangarh, a very very poor town in the middle of the Ghats. I checked into a cheap but overpriced 70 rupee room ($1.75), in the only "hotel" in town. I dropped the bike off at a local bike shop and had a great but greasy chicken fried rice dinner.

Returning to the mechanic he said he "fixed it", but was unable to get inside the bottom bracket... I had my doubts. I returned to my "room" for an unpleasant night and a questionable tomorrow.