Feb. 20 - Mansehra, Pakistan

Monday, February 20 :: Mansehra, Pakistan :: 101km today / 4841km total

Terrible food last night and this morning had me scrounging - the more rural you get, the harder it is to find good food. But the Sun was shining brightly, there were no rainclouds in the sky, and the day promised to be a good one as I set off up the Karakoram Highway (KKH) from kilometre zero, at 1360 feet above sea level.

The first 60km of the KKH was through a dry, agricultural area, and the road sloped gently upwards through the alluvial plain. To the left and right loomed the Karakoram Mountains, and slowly they closed in on both sides. Finally there was nowhere left to go but up, over the first big pass of the KKH, the Salhad La (a 13km, 1600 foot climb). I knew it was coming, and was ready... and for some reason flew up it like it was nothing. I mean, I OWNED it. Sure, I was a bit tired at the top, but I couldn't believe how easy it was, for a climb equivalent to riding up the CN Tower, from base to tip. Huh. Very strange. Alrighty then. At the top, 4100ft above sea level, was Abbottabad, good for a drink stop.

This region, and for the next 100-200km, is very close to the epicentre of the earthquake that hit here last October, that killed thousands and left many thousands of others homeless. Occasionally as I rode along I passed tent camps, mostly organized by foreign countries/aid organizations, housing those displaced by the quake. Mansehra, where I'm staying tonight, is extremely close to the epicentre and has many, many camps scattered all around town. The camps are extremely well organized and built - I was surprised at how clean and orderly they are, as well as how much privacy they offer the occupants. Its really a United Nations event here... along the KKH I saw flags of many, many countries and agencies, it seems that countries and/or aid agencies are given individual camps to oversee. New Zealand, Unicef, Switzerland, Britain, etc etc, and eventually the Maple Leaf, which made me smile and feel lots of good things about my country.

Coming into Mansehra I could see lofty, snow-clad peaks in the distance - the high Karakoram! I'll be cycling towards the base of many of them, including 8100m Nanga Parbat, one of the highest mountains in the world. Very exciting. I'm trying to figure out at which elevation the snowline is, which will give me an idea of how close to China it's possible to get... I'll probably know tomorrow. Food and accomodation are sparse along the KKH, especially in the Winter off-season, and I have very carefully planned out the next 4 days of riding to Gilgit, so as not to be stuck somewhere exhausted and without a place to sleep. I can risk exhausting myself in most places, but not here in the mountains, where I always have to keep a "reserve" of energy - just in case the unexpected happens.

Feb. 19 - Hasan Abdal, Pakistan

Sunday, February 19 :: Hasan Abdal, Pakistan :: 9km today / 4740km total

Rain! The first real rain of my trip. I had planned to take the bus back along the Grand Trunk Road anyways, so I walked the muddy 3km to the bus station, rolling my bike along beside me. Things were a little confusing at the terminal but eventually I was on a bus going in the right direction, and off we went. There was some sort of strike today (Danish cartoon issue), and parts of the major highways were blocked, so we had to take a LONG detour around. At 3pm I was dropped off about 5km from Hasan Abdal.

On loading the bike I discovered that one of my aerobars was cracked. Why not, eh? I walked over to a welder, who could not weld it (my aerobars are made of something other than steel, I guess), but attached a sort of ring clamp brace. I'm not sure if this will hold or not - my aerobars bear the weight of most of my gear, and I have some hilly roads ahead... I will try to address the issue further tomorrow. But for now, the bars seem solid enough, and I pedalled slowly along the Grand Trunk Road into Hasan Abdal.

Several large signs at the main junction in Hasan Abdal mark the beginning of the KKH, Pakistan's Silk Route, and it was within a few hundred metres of km 0 that I found a place to sleep. Its 800km to China from here. Tomorrow I have at least 2500 feet of climbing.

Feb. 18 - Peshawar, Pakistan

Saturday, February 18 :: Peshawar, Pakistan :: 136km today / 4731km total

I force-fed myself last night, scared of what I thought would be a very difficult ride to Peshawar today. It turned out to be not too bad, with only a gentle headwind, and I rode the first 100km in one shot, munching on some chocolate and grapefruits I was carrying, not stopping for food or drinks until within 30km of Peshawar. Some warplanes were flying overhead, unidentifiable but Pakistani I assume. The police tried some stupid tactics to get some $$ from me, but I shut them down pretty quickly and didn't put up with their nonsense.

The ride today was awesome, through a fantastic mixed desert/green landscape. Very 'stan-ish. A major landmark was crossing the Indus river. Peshawar itself is a bit less dramatic than I thought it would be - it's supposed to be this romantic frontier town, but all I see are the same roads, stores, fumes, and everything else thats common to Pakistani desert towns. I mean, its not a bad town, but nothing really out of the ordinary...? Afghanistan is only 50km to the West - the road is closed to all but the most heavily armed of vehicles. This is as far West as I can go. Effectively I've ridden from Nepal to Afghanistan, contiguously!!! bwaaahahahahahaha

What to do now? The drivers continued to be fantastic today, and I've decided not to go back to India, until the very end of my trip (to see Delhi, and the flight home). I can't stomach the thought of the chaos of Indian roads, after being in heavenly Pakistan. So, I will ride up the Karakoram Highway (KKH), as far as possible! The KKH is a recently-built road that connects Pakistan to China through the Karakoram mountains. On the Pakistani side it starts effectively at Islamabad, at less than 2,000 feet above sea level, and pushes about 900km North through the mountains - among some of the highest in the world (including Nanga Parbat and coming near K2), to a pass thats around 15,000 feet above sea level. I'll ride it in the uphill direction to avoid altitude sickness, if I get high enough for that to be an issue (doubtful?). The KKH is one of the Holy Grails of bike touring, supposedly one of the most spectacular roads on the planet. It's as safe as the Punjab - no security concerns. It's also not the best season for it, being WINTER, which is why I hadn't really planned on it, but oh well. Services will be sparse, and some hotels will be closed since it is VERY MUCH the tourist off-season for this area (July and August are high-season). The pass itself usually only opens in May or June, due to being clogged with snow. However, I'll push up the KKH as far as I can - the first 500-600km shouldn't be too cold. But I'm a Canadian, right? I can handle a little snow.

Feb. 17 - Taxila, Pakistan

Friday, February 17 :: Taxila, Pakistan :: 40km today / 4595km total

I didn't have far to go today, so took the morning preparations and ride to Taxila very, very easy. Taxila is a major historical sight for a number of reasons - for me the biggest reason was that it marks the furthest East Greek city that I'm aware of, built by the garrison left by Alexander the Great after his roll through the area. Pakistan was about as far as Alexander got, as I understand it, and I haven't heard about or read of any Greek remains or artifacts anywhere else in Pakistan or India.

The museum was, again, a little disappointing, and I hopped on my bike to check out some neighbouring archaelogical sites. Several kilometres down a little track I came across some sort of celebration; the track was crowded with people, I could see a black flag with Arabic writing on it in the distance, so I hopped off my bike and slowly made my way forward. I soon realized there was something... different in the air, and that the mood of the crowd was not quite... favourable towards me (a first in Pakistan). There were some police milling about, eyeing me nervously, and my pulse began to race at their apprehension. I stopped my forward progress, and as I was turning around I saw a man appear through the crowd, about 50 metres ahead of me, with his back covered in blood. He was in some sort of euphoric/enraged state, and I knew immediately what was going on. It was a Shiite Muslim ceremony where men whip their backs with razor blades until they can't take it anymore, representative of some wrong-doing or hard times that a revered Shiite went through, centuries ago. The man was probably not alone in his self-bloodletting. Needless to say it was the wrong place for me to be, at the wrong time. Particularly stupid would have been to hang around to watch, or even worse, take a picture (when you hear of tourists getting killed, usually if you read the fine print it turns out that they did something incredibly stupid when faced with a dangerous situation - "hey look, a guy with a gun, won't everyone back home think I'm cool if I take a picture of him"). But before I knew what was going on, or could make any decisions, I was already speeding back towards the museum, my legs quickly taking me away from the scene. Good on them.

Down another road, in a completely different direction, I came across an ancient Greek temple. Wow, was it strange to see this in Pakistan. The bases of the Ionic columns were still there, as well as the classic raised mound. Very, very odd. Facing the temple, very close-by, was the ancient Greek city of Sirkap. Just like the ancient Greek/Roman cities in the Middle East. A complete time trip for me, walking around the ruins.

Lots of food that night, and a great sleep.

Feb. 16 - Islamabad, Pakistan

Thursday, February 16 :: Islamabad, Pakistan :: 10km today / 4555km total

A morning visit to a very disappointing war museum - for a country that spends 30% of it's annual budget on it's military I had expected something half-decent. Ah well. I packed up quickly and left my hotel for the short ride into neighbouring Islamabad - I didn't bother to change into my cycling gear, or even to put my cycling shoes on.

Islamabad is a very young city, not more than 40 years old, and the capital of Pakistan. Its a planned city, and it is beautiful. It has trees, grass, wide avenues, and order - all the things you don't expect from a South Asian city. If you ever visit the Subcontinent (India/Pakistan/Nepal/Sri Lanka) I highly recommend starting in Islamabad, to "ease" your way in. I almost started laughing as I rode into Islamabad's twin Rawalpindi yesterday, how gentle the traffic and drivers are here, how they were paying close attention to things like traffic lights and lines on the road. I actually had to consciously de-aggressify my city driving habits, habits that had grown on me in places like Agra, Jaipur, Bombay, Panaji, Calicut, Trivandrum, Kathmandu, Amritsar...

Being a beautiful, cleanish, orderly city (like Toronto?), Islamabad is also kind of boring (like Toronto?). The must-see is the Shah Faisal Mosque, one of the largest mosques in the world built largely from funds donated by Saudi Arabia's King Faisal. Big, bold, stately, I love mosques to begin with and this one was no different. The bad news is that Pakistan lost to India in cricket again today, and have now also lost the best-of-5 series. If you hear about renewed "cartoon" rioting in Pakistan today, don't say I didn't warn you!

160km West of here is Peshawar, near the Afghan border and Khyber Pass, and it's pretty much the end of the road in that direction. What to do with myself after that? I'll have about 2-3 weeks before I need to be back in Delhi for my flight home. South and West are the dangerous bandit provinces of Sindh and Balochistan, so I'm not going there. Northwest is Afghanistan... no thanks. North are the Karakoram mountains... too cold in February. I'm contimplating:
a) riding a different route (the M2 highway) back to Lahore (only 3-4 days though)
b) flying somewhere cheap from Islamabad or Delhi, for a few weeks
c) riding through central/North India, between Varanasi and Udaipur

We'll see!

Feb. 15 - Rawalpindi, Pakistan

Wednesday, February 15 :: Rawalpindi, Pakistan :: 148km today / 4545km total

Last night in the hotel I had a long, great conversation with some Pakistanis. Among many things, it turns out that Pakistan has a special branch of their police force dedicated to traffic and imposing international driving standards on the roads. It really shows, and today would be some of my most peaceful riding anywhere in Asia, even though the traffic was quite busy. The people I was talking with took great pride in the contrast I portrayed between Indian roads and Pakistani roads. If you want to understand the difference, try this: sit in a chair quietly for a minute, eyes closed, humming an uplifting song to yourself (Pakistani roads), then hop up, yelling and screaming at the top of your lungs, and run randomly in any direction with your eyes still closed until you hit a wall (Indian roads). Unfortunately for some reason dinner never showed up, so 7 large tangerines and a Snickers bar it was.

Off into a stiff headwind, a less than ideal start for the day. I was trying for Rawalpindi, 145km away, and fighting a tough headwind for that kind of distance was not my idea of a good time. 50km in I was stopped by the traffic police - they were a bit concerned about my safety, given the cartoon controversy. I think they also were intrigued by my presence, and it was hard to figure out if they were pushing out the conversation for the sake of the conversation, or out of concern, or how much of either. They didn't want me to travel alone, but I pacified them with the fact that I didn't plan on leaving the Grand Trunk Road, and the GTR is extremely busy (connecting India & Lahore to Islamabad/Rawalpindi) - I'm NEVER alone on it. If anyone was to "try anything" there would be about 100 eyewitnesses. They relented, and off I went.

The road started to roll dramatically, with long shallow climbs and descents, all the way to Rawalpindi. Very exhausting to push into a headwind, and be going uphill at the same time. Still, I was moving fast enough to race heavily-loaded trucks, passing them on the climbs and descents, losing them on the flats. They're a great benefit to me, actually - its extremely helpful when you're going up a long long climb to have some sort of objective or pace vehicle. With 30km to go I was completely played out and went through dizzy spells whenever I hopped off the bike for a drink. But the day was mine, and I rolled into Rawalpindi safely and soundly. Tomorrow is a VERY short ride (10km or less!) to Islamabad, after seeing the Pakistan War Museum here in Rawalpindi.

Feb. 14 - Lala Musa, Pakistan

Tuesday, February 14 :: Lala Musa, Pakistan :: 128km today / 4397km total

OK now before everyone starts emailing me all sorts of dire warnings, yes i know there was a cartoon protest in Lahore today, and I think some people were hurt and/or killed. It also so happens that Pakistan lost to India in cricket yesterday, to fall behind 2-1 in a best-of-5 series. Guess where the match was played? Guess. Clue: its a city WITHOUT a Danish embassy, a city thats known in Pakistan for being progressive. Give up? Lahore! If you don't think the 2 events are linked, you don't know much about the way that this cricket series has a hold on the 2 countries involved, and the pride that's at stake.

Regarding my safety: To start, newspapers in Canada seem to have a better grip on the difference between "can" and "should" than some European newspapers, thankfully. Also, there is no Western country better respected here in Pakistan than Canada (man I love my country). There are Canadian flags everywhere, mostly as part of advertisements for calling-abroad packages, but sometimes on billboards for joint development projects, emigration help, etc. Whenever a Pakistani finds out I'm Canadian, they always beam a big smile, "Canadaaaa, very good!". I've always found Muslims to be very in tune with world events, and Pakistanis are no different - they know the difference between Canadians and Americans, or Canadians and Danes. In fact they are far less ignorant, on average, than most peoples I know. I know the formal Islamic greetings, in Arabic, and mostly, I'm not Danish or European. As far as I know no Westerner has been harmed anywhere in the world by these protests, not even a Dane, and I am an extremely unlikely candidate to be the first.

Back to today. A relatively uneventful ride, detouring to Sialkot, the birthplace of a very good friend of mine. After some pictures and brief shopping I rode back towards the Grand Trunk Road, unfortunately encountering about 30km of roadwork that left me blanketed in dust and dirt. Back on the wide, beautiful Grand Trunk Road I sped North, halting at Lala Musa for the night.

Now that I've put in over 200km on Pakistan's roads, I have a good feel for the traffic here. Firstly, they don't honk like madmen in Pakistan! Most Asian drivers honk incessantly, I don't bother talking about it, because it's par for the course, I come to Asian countries expecting to lose a bit of hearing. But for some reason here in Pakistan they don't - they only honk when necessary, the roads are QUIET, and it's FANTASTIC. Secondly, I've only been forced off the road once in 200km so far, the driving continues to be relatively good and the police continue to be present. Thirdly, I haven't seen any mangled vehicles yet, any accidents of any kind. I really hope all of this continues, if it does, Pakistan will be one of the best Asian countries I've ever ridden and I would actually be able to recommend it as a cycling destination.

Feb. 13 - Gujranwala, Pakistan

Monday, February 13 :: Gujranwala, Pakistan :: 65km today / 4269km total

Woke up feeling... ok, and I decided to head out of Lahore... I'd spent far too much time in that hotel room. I finished the last of my tangerines and a Snickers bar, packed, and left.

400km away lies Pakistan's capital city, Islamabad, neighbouring it's larger twin, Rawalpindi, but today's target was Sialkot, 115km away. Well, 30km into the ride I knew that was a pipedream, as I felt terribly weak and my stomach was hurting - not nauseous, just hurting. I slowly made my way along Highway 1, the old Grand Trunk Road, and meekly pulled into Gujranwala. Hopefully there are bigger, more competent days ahead.

So far the traffic has been... pretty good! I AM riding along a wide road, but still the traffic drives generally in the proper direction with some basic sense of order and reason. I didn't see any horrible accidents today - a rarity for South Asia. We'll see what happens when I get onto the smaller roads, though. There are police out and about, and I've seen them with cars pulled over, ticket book out, so maybe they are keeping things saner here in Pakistan.

Food: Pakistanis certainly like their meat, with a caveat - its almost always fried! Fried chicken is HUGE here. So are hamburgers - with fried beef patties -much to my dismay. As I was walking through downtown Gujranwala I passed 3 fried chicken places, all in a row. The fried chicken restaurants are all clean, well-manicured... its been a challenge to find a "Pakistani" restaurant that is as clean. Sigh. Its never easy here in the Subcontinent.

Feb. 12 - Lahore, Pakistan

Sunday, February 12 :: Lahore, Pakistan :: 0km today / 4204km total

Woke up feeling horrible, with a wrenching pain in my gut. Uh oh. After throwing up I knew it was going to be a long, long day. I stumbled down the stairs and outside to grab some tangerines and Sprite, then back to my room, just in time to throw up again. Ah, yes, the good times are back. I tried getting down an antibiotic and immodium but i dry heaved them back out. Too much fun. All in all a long, painful day that thankfully I slept through part of. As I went to sleep for the "night" I was feeling a bit better and able to keep some tangerines down.

Feb. 11 - Lahore, Pakistan

Saturday, February 11 :: Lahore, Pakistan :: 0km today / 4204km total

Out and about, checking out Lahore's touristy sites (fort, mosques, minarets). The mosques were fantastic, everything else less so. The relative lack of urine-stench and garbage in Lahore is refreshing - keep it up, Pakistan! I was shocked to walk into a public urinal, not wade through a stream of liquid running out of it, and not smell... anything at all. Even so, I wasn't in the best of moods today, feeling very exhausted and travel-weary, and was a little short with the attention-seekers at the tourist sites ("Whats your name/Whats your country/Can I have a pic with you"). Its not that Pakistanis are more in my face than Indians, its just that after 2 months of being the Elephant Man I'm starting to have enough of it. Especially since I've come to the realization that they don't really care about the answers to their questions (name, country, etc), they just want to gain some sort of benefit from my company ("Look at me, with the white guy! Do you see? Aren't I cool? Look, he's answering my questions, hahaha"). I'm talking about the haphazard question-askers here, not the people interested in a genuine conversation. I can now spot the difference a mile away - shying away from the first, very receptive to the second. You can only keep a stiff upper lip for so long.

I went to see King Kong (English version), hoping for a few hours of sanctity, but such was not to be. The movie soundtrack was butchered by audience talking, cellphone ringing, drinks salesmen, etc. Not that the plot wasn't easy to follow, but come on now. Is it really necessary to comment all the time during a movie? Apparently, gratingly, so. It seemed that the love story was lost on the audience.

Not sure if I'll ride out of here tomorrow, it was a long day today, and I still feel pretty exhausted. Lahore is a good city, for an Asian city of 5 million, and I'm thinking of doing Absolutely Nothing tomorrow. One more reassuring thing - the police are out and about doing traffic things - directing traffic, and having double-parked cars removed by forklifts! This is so funny to watch, and I give the lift drivers a thumbs up. Sometimes the car owners come running out of shops or alleys, frantically explaining why they block in traffic... too late, buddy. See you on the road in a few days - or maybe not!

Feb. 10 - Lahore, Pakistan

Friday, February 10 :: Lahore, Pakistan :: 71km today / 4204km total

Another remarkable day in South Asia. I woke up a little late, as I have been for the past week or so, fatigue really setting in - I have day(s) off planned for Lahore, to recover. Off to the Golden Temple, and it was amazing. Sikhism is sort of a cross between Islam and Hinduism, and the Temple itself was exactly that. Built with a large, outer ring wall it had a massive central courtyard, much like a mosque. The courtyard was mostly a huge pool, with a golden building perched in the middle of it. Also mosque-ish was the simplicity - no figurines, no flashy colours, no animals, but many intricate patterns in the stonework. There was a continual chant echoing throughout the complex that to my untrained ear was Hindu-ish. A great start to the day.

Back to the hotel, and at noon checkout I rolled out towards the border. I had only 30km to go and I took it very easy, possibly my last 30km of riding in India... ever? The border itself was well-maintained and very organized, night-and-day from the 2 borders with Nepal that I crossed. After a bit of unnecessary agony I crossed into Pakistan! I went through the formalities on that side, and then hung around for the border closing ceremony.

To understand the significance of much of the border ceremony it's important to understand that it is difficult for Pakistanis to get a visa to visit India, or Indians to get a visa to visit Pakistan, since the countries are more or less at war.

The border closing ceremony was unlike anything I've ever seen. Grandstands on both sides had been erected, and by the time the ceremony started they were jam-packed with people. On the Pakistan side we were directed immediately to the grandstands by the police/army staff, but on the Indian side the Indians took a circuitous route to their seats that had them walking along the border fence, essentially parading the civilians themselves to the Pakistanis. After the end of the ceremony the roles reversed, and the Pakistanis were paraded, on departure, in front of the Indians. Once the seats were filled there was much hubbub on both sides, in anticipation. Binoculars were out on both sides, spectators peering at their counterparts. Indians dress more brightly than Pakistanis, for sure, as was easily apparent by scanning the bandstands. Then the ceremony itself began. Essentially it was a lot of yelling (by soldiers and spectators) and stomping (by soldiers) on both sides, co-ordinated at various times, duelling at other times. I think the Indians won the stomping, but the Pakistanis definitely won the yelling. On one side the Indians were led by "Hindustan" chants, on the other the Pakistanis were led by "Pakistan" chants. The Pakistanis had an edge, as they also were egged on by "Allah Akbar" chants - the variety this offered to the spectators was a clear advantage for Pakistan. An elderly Pakistani man, carrying the flag and dressed in matching colours was magical in working the crowd, as he ran around the grounds yelling and chastizing when the response wasn't loud enough. Sometimes, when the Indian rabble-rouser screamed "Hindustan", the Pakistani spectators heckled out "Allah Akbar", much to their own amusement, laughing as they killed the Indian spectator's reply. It ended with the lowering of both flags and the closing of the gates.

There was a very telling moment just before the whole thing began that really, for me, typified the Indian-Pakistan relationship. After the stands were filled, and the spectators were being worked up, and the army paraders were beginning to puff and growl, a bus appeared on the Indian side - it was the Amritsar (India) to Lahore (Pakistan) bus, a route recently set up for limited cross-border tourism, certainly under the watchful eye of powers-that-be. As the gates (which had been closed at the time) opened, as the bus rolled through, spectators on both sides of the border clapped appreciatively, heartfeltedly. It was quite the moment. Then silence, as the bus moved into Pakistan, then slowly the puffing and growling resumed.

The Sun was low as I ran over to my bike and began the short 30km ride into Lahore. Lahore's an ancient city of 5 million people, and it wasn't long before I paid a tuk-tuk driver to guide me in through the twisting, dark streets. After a few failed attempts at hotels (full? strange), I found a great, central place.

Somewhere in the darkness, rolling along between hotels, I crossed the 4200km mark. This is the distance from Vancouver to Toronto that I rode a few Summers ago with my friend Mike, and is my longest bike trip ever. Rather, it WAS my longest bike trip ever!

Feb. 9 - Amritsar, India

Thursday, February 9 :: Amritsar, India :: 79km today / 4133km total

An easy, short ride into Amritsar marked by a re-welding of my bottom bracket (pedal axle). The bike is still rolling though and will make it to Pakistan, inshallah. Amritsar is the holy centre of the Sikhs, highlighted by the Golden Temple, Sikhism's most important landmark. I made my way into the cheap hotel district neighbouring the Temple and set about doing various admin tasks that I've been delinquent on: haircut, picking up a Lonely Planet Pakistan, and of course lots of eating. I'll see the Temple tomorrow morning, its about a 5 min walk from my hotel. I always find early morning the best time for major tourist sites, before the tour buses roll in. There's no point in leaving Amritsar before noon, anyways; the border with Pakistan is only 30km away, and I want to linger at the border to see the fabled border closing ceremony that India and Pakistan do nightly. After the ceremony I'll have about an hour ride into Lahore, Pakistan, and I should make it in before dark.

India and Pakistan have a funny love-hate relationship that is quite interesting to observe and poke at, when talking to the locals. The same country until 1947, India and Pakistan share much of the same culture and history. They both celebrate Aug. 14, an important date in the kicking out of the British. India, at 12% Muslim, has about as many Muslims as Pakistan, which is 96% Muslim (Pakistan is much smaller). The currently ongoing cricket series really highlights their odd relationship; even though Indians root for India, one of the most popular cricket players in India is Pakistan's Inzy - there are even articles in the Indian newspapers written by Inzy. The first state I'll enter in Pakistan is called... Punjab, the same named-state I'm in now, in India. Yet they fuss and fidget with each other, mostly over the disputed Northern provinces of Jammu and Kashmir. I get the feeling that once that issue is settled (whenever that happens), India and Pakistan will draw very close to each other.

Feb. 8 - Jalandhar, India

Wednesday, February 8 :: Jalandhar, India :: 150km today / 4054km total

Another slow morning, but I didn't feel too beat up from yesterday's big ride. After 16 pieces of toast (thinly sliced, but still a big breakfast), I rolled off, targeting Jalandhar, my friend Chandeep's hometown. An unexpected, long-awaited gentle tailwind cheered me up and I spun along relatively easily, singing to myself and out loud, knowing that the day would not be too tough.

I was riding along National Highway 1, and the road is great. Services of all kinds, very frequently spaced. Flat, wide, divided, with 2 lanes in each direction plus a paved shoulder. Great for cycling. Life was good. Still, 150km is 150km, and I had to work it. Eating, drinking, but nothing out of the usual for the day. I rolled into Jalandhar well before dark.

Punjab is certainly another side of India. Firstly, Punjabis are big on meat, and the menus are the most varied that I've seen in India, other than Goa (but that doesn't count). This is the Sikh homeland, and there certainly are a high percentage of Sikhs around. Sikhs tend to be a bit larger, I find, than other Indians - I'm guessing because i) they're not vegetarian and ii) historically they're a sort of warrior class (right, Chandeep?). There seems to be more money here, and large fancy hotels and party centres line the highway. And they're busy - I saw at least 5 BIG functions today, weddings or otherwise I'm not sure, but they were massively attended. Prices are a little higher than the rest of India, like maybe 20-25% higher. Finding cheap accomodation is tougher. There are many dramatic 4-5 star hotels along the road. And I passed 2 McDonalds! That makes a total of 4 that I've seen this ENTIRE trip. Not that McD's are a benchmark of anything, I'm just sayin'. Another difference is that many of the little variety stores sell juice - this is not a tourist area, so Indians are buying it, not foreigners, which is a first - I've had to scrouge to find juice in the rest of India, here it's commonplace.

Overall, I've enjoyed North India more than South India, and I'm hoping that Pakistan (having more in common with North India than South) continues this trend. I'm 80km from Amritsar, 110km from Pakistan, 140km from Lahore.

Feb. 7 - Rajpura, India

Tuesday, February 7 :: Rajpura, India :: 191km today / 3904km total

Just did NOT want to get out of bed this morning. Had there been a reason to stay in Dehra Dun for a day, I would have, as I was completely uninterested in riding. But I wouldn't get to Amritsar by doing nothing, so with a late start, almost 9 a.m., I was off and rolling.

The road soon turned upwards for a 10km climb that I was quite unimpressed with having to do. Fortunately it was through a wildlife reserve, and made for as pleasant riding as could be expected when you're going uphill. I had to dodge monkeys. At the crest was a short tunnel, followed by a winding, 20km descent, all in all a fantastic 30km. I was quite invigorated by the descent, brushed aside my laziness, and started to pedal in earnest. The road was flat, but a headwind kept things honest.

With careful, timed drinking and eating I started to log some serious mileage at a strong pace. I don't really know where the energy came from. Rolling through 130km my legs started to whisper "200" at me, but I told them that Ambala at 167 would be quite satisfactory, especially given the headwind. Shortly after that I felt a knock in the pedals, yes, I had ripped through the welding in my bottom bracket that I had had done near Bombay. Too much power. I chastized my legs for this, telling them to stop ripping apart the bike, goddamnit, now there's no way I'll let them go to 200 today. After a quick re-welding I was off and rolling, into Ambala. But no good accomodation was to be had - at least, no reasonable accomodation. So, with the Sun threateningly low in the sky, I buckled down for a 24km end-of-day hammerfest to Rajpuri. I crossed into Punjab State, and made it into a hotel just as it was getting scarily dark. A little over nine hours for a headwind 191km, inclusive of stops, not bad, not bad. I gorged like a madman on FANTASTIC Punjabi food, and fell asleep dizzy from a Kingfisher beer (650ml).

Feb. 6 - Dehra Dun, India

Monday, February 6 :: Dehra Dun, India :: 70km today / 3713km total

A late start to the day as the weather is even cooler here, at the foot of the Himalaya. I felt terribly weak on the bike, here we go again. It was only 24km to Rishikesh, but it was uphill and upwind, and it took me far longer than it should have. But the scenery in this area of India continues to be great, so the ride wasn't unenjoyable.

Rishikesh is a great town, ashram-loaded, with the first Western tourists I've seen since Kathmandu. I tried to get a good kayaking trip together, but the prices were high, nearly what you'd pay in Canada, and I started to lose interest when the outfitters were vague on the classes of the rapids, the type of kayak, etc. Ah well, more time for Pakistan!

After hitting the Swiss Bakery I backtracked to the Dehra Dun road, and left town. A very hilly ride it was... not steep hills, just long, long, energy-draining climbs. It was very forested, lots of monkeys, so all good as I spun along interminably in my lowest gear. Dehra Dun is another semi-tourist town, so the food options are varied, which always helps.

My eyes are firmly on Amritsar now, at the border with Pakistan.

Feb. 5 - Haridwar, India

Sunday, February 5 :: Haridwar, India :: 158km today / 3643km total

Another early, chilly, foggy, but strong start on the bike today. I'm more or less riding the boundary between Uttar Pradesh province (which extends South down to Agra - Taj Mahal) and Uttarchanal province (extending Northwards, mostly Himalaya). I'm only about 200km from Delhi, but will not return there and "see" it until the very end of my trip. I really like this area of India - not overflowing with people, occasional forested stretches, wildlife in places, and the people seem to be more placid and easygoing. They still drive like maniacs, and today I would ride off the road 10 times to avoid getting hit by an oncoming truck or bus. Once the oncoming bus even had one of it's wheels in the gravel, on my side, forcing me to the far edge of the gravel shoulder, almost into the ditch. I am not alone in doing this; the local cyclists and scooters have to do the same thing. Where is the policing?

The wind was up early as well, not in my favour, as it hasn't been since Siliguri on the other side of India. All good though, and I determinedly plowed my way into it. Just past the 100km mark I slipped into an upscaly roadside hotel/restaurant, and as luck would have it they had chicken tikka on the menu, and their tandoor was fired up! It's extremely unusual to find a restaurant that has a tandoor operating before dinnertime, and I couldn't believe my fortune. So a big lunch it was, with my favourite Indian food (chicken tikka and naan), and when I rolled back onto the road I felt like Popeye does after eating his spinach. Just to keep the day normal I got a touch of welding done, on a little crack I had noticed, to be on the safe side. Now, 50km to go, bring it ON. Whether it was psychological or not, I hammered the final distance quite easily, getting into Haridwar well before dark.

Haridwar sits at the point where the Ganges emerges from the Himalaya, at the head of the Gangetic Plain. It's one of India's holiest cities, not only because of the aforesaid, but because one of the main Hindu Gods (I think it was Shiva) apparently did something or other here, as well - I left my guidebook in the room (oops!). There are many pilgrims here, but few to no foreign tourists, surprisingly. The pilgrims are quite varied in composition and background, ranging from the deathly poor to happy families to crippled to well-off NRIs (Non-Resident Indians). Its an extremely bustling place, and every night at sunset there is a ceremony at the ghats where pilgrims (or anyone) place little burning bundles of significance into the river. I went to see it, but was quite appalled - priests and/or "priests" were busily hustling the crowd, playing the donate-and-your-sins-will-be-forgiven game. They were walking around with receipt books open, pens a-ready, giving a little chant to a group of people then looking at them expectantly. Terrible to prey upon the weaknesses in the human psyche, particularly among pilgrims, many of them extremely poor who may have sacrificed much just to be here. No need for that nonsense here, and it completely destroyed the ambiance of what should have been a place of worship and respect. Many of the priests/"priests" came after me, but I was in a gamey mood and worked them over pretty good, pressing them on why they are taking money from the poorest of pilgrims, crippled, etc. etc.

From here its only 24km to Rishikesh, yoga centre of the Universe, apparently. It's a big foreign tourist enclave which, at the very least, promises a Swiss bakery. I'm not much for yoga or ashrams (can any of you imagine me in an ashram?), but I'll try to find a kayaking outfitter here, I'd love to do some paddling in the Himalaya on the Upper Ganges. From Rishikesh I turn West, straight West, through Dehra Dun to Punjab province... through the great cities of Chandigarh, Jalandhar, and Amritsar, to the border with Pakistan.

Feb. 4 - Kashipur, India

Saturday, February 4 :: Kashipur, India :: 128km today / 3485km total

Last night was surprisingly uneventful. I loitered around the lobby of the hotel, waiting for the attention I usually draw, for the sole purpose of getting invited into the wedding reception... no dice. Sigh. The ONE TIME I WANT attention, I don't get it, and I get far too much at other times. You can't win. Fortunately I had a great sleep.

In the morning the wedding guests were all over me (too late! why not last night?) and the annoyance was back, sporadic knocks on the door as I was packing, conversations never more deep than "Where are you from?" "Where are you going?" etc. etc. I enjoy talking with the Indians, when there is a conversation to be had, but this repetitive type of rote-question-asking is really trying on my nerves.

Out on the road it was a very heavy fog, visibility 10 metres, and within 20 minutes I was drenched with condensed moisture. I felt strong, the legs wanted to go, the first time in a while I can say that... the gorging in Kathmandu starting to pay off. A headwind sprung up early, blowing away the fog, but it didn't matter, as I forced my way into the wind in a gear higher than I normally use, even for neutral conditions. I was hammering! I was even thinking of a possible 200km day, a "headwind-200". At the 100km mark, though, the efforts of forcing the headwind started to catch up to me, and I could feel my energy start to sap away. Ah well, no need to kill myself, I told my legs (they still wanted to go for 200). The map showed a large town (Kashipur) at 128km, then nothing significant for 70-80km afterwards, so Kashipur it was. A quiet, peaceful day, much needed.

Accomodation in non-tourist towns is always a dicey proposition, but usually I get something decent enough. Generally in Asia (this goes for SE Asia, Middle East, and here, South Asia) anything less than $5CDN/night is pretty hurting... marginal to dirty sheets, horrible bathroom, and likely mosquitos/bed bugs or both. When I'm forced to stay at places like this its always better to get a room with shared bathroom, rather than attached bathroom... believe me, you want your room to be as far away from the bathroom as possible, not connected to it. In the $6-$10 range the rooms are usually good enough for me, and this is what I aim for - sometimes T.V. (encourages stretching), clean sheets, clean bathroom, sometimes dirty walls and floor, but I don't "touch" the walls or floor so I can live with it. Toilets in this range are about a 50/50 mix between sit-down and squat, I don't mind squatting as long as the environment is clean. Showers are almost always cold, which is fine for me in most cases, since I shower immediately after booking the room, usually hot and sweaty from riding, and the air temp is usually 20C+ at these times. They'll bring bucket hot water if you ask, but I almost never do. From $10-$15 the rooms approach what you would consider to be "Western standard", with clean everything, but still fairly basic. I don't think I've ever paid more than $15 for a room in Asia (except for Singapore, but Singapore is atypical for the places in Asia I've been), but I imagine they're pretty full-on Western-style.

Feb. 4 - pics!

Palolem Beach, Goa, India
Palolem Beach, Goa, India
A fantastic cheap room in Karnakata
Temple with a giant Shiva in the background
Typical bus station and buses (Trivandrum)
From the train, in Tamil Nadu
Crossing a major river
Typical train station
Walking along the street at night in Bhubaneswar
I could take thousands of pics like this (from the bike)
Sun Temple at Konark
Sun Temple at Konark
Sun Temple at Konark
Sun Temple at Konark
Indians at the beach, in typical beach attire
Anytown, India
Anytown, India. Note the car at right angles to traffic
On the flat Terai in Nepal
Weld #3
Weld #3. Always lots of onlookers
Beautiful Nepal, on the way to Bharatpur
Same place, different angle
All too typical of South Asian driving. This is a blind corner. I call this a "double", when I'm riding towards it. Note the margin of road available for, say, cyclists (driving is on the "left").
A typical bus food/drink stop
Downtown Kathmandu.
Plane for Everest flight
Everest. Hard to tell from this pic, but its the highest point, the dark pyramid. Lhotse is slightly lower, to the right, with the South Col in between.
Another view
Descent from Kathmandu through a terraced valley
The winding descent
Terraces in Nepal
From the bus, in Western Nepal
The Border crossing, Nepal/India, West side of Nepal.
Your Weary, Wary Traveller
Back in India, typical street scene

Feb. 3 - Khatima, India

Friday, February 3 :: Khatima, India :: 31km today / 3357km total

The morning bus ride to the border town of Mahendranagar was uneventful. THANK GOD. I don't want any kind of excitement today. I slipped into my riding gear and slowly made my way to the immigration posts. The Nepali Immigration Officer told me that I was the first foreigner he'd seen in a week. No doubt. They're all smart enough not to come to rural Western Nepal when there's a civil war going on. The border was even more chaotic than the Eastern border, with no sense of continuity at all - the road on the Nepali side abruptly ended, and I had to make my way down a gravelly, stony path for about a kilometre to hook up with the Indian road.

Ahhhh, India. Perhaps I had been too harsh on it with some of my earlier comments. It was such a relief to cross the border, I could literally feel the tension melt away, not only from me but from everyone else around me. It really is amazing that this incredibly diverse country of 1 billion is able to maintain relative internal peace and a democracy that functions, even to the point of electing both minorities and women to the highest offices in the land. You have to tip your hat to that, there are few (if any?) countries in the world that can claim that. And I was surprised, as I rolled along the roads... a beautiful landscape, no garbage, and the people were certainly better off than on the Nepali side of the border. Uttar Pradesh state, so far, is one of my favourites in India. Also, the people were smiling, laughing, cavorting around... something I realized that the Nepalis weren't. Well, if my country were at war with itself, I probably wouldn't be very chipper, either.

The Indian joie-de-vive was intoxicating, and I was quite happy as I spun down the road, chain slipping every now and then, as it will until I get a decent derailleur on my bike (not likely this trip). There are about 5 things wrong with my bike, but I take nothing for granted now, and every kilometre I'm able to ride is a thankful one, as I loathe the thought of taking the bus or train. Its not that I hate backpacking, there's nothing wrong with it... but cycling is such an intimate way to see a country and people... if I can't cycle Pakistan, I won't feel like I really "saw" it, certainly compared to the way I saw much of India or Nepal. And it does help to connect you to the people, moving along at their speed, eating roadside food, facing their weather, their traffic, their hills, their dust, a taste of their hardships. And, simply, cycling ROCKS!

Into Khatima, not in any mood for a big day, quite exhausted from all I've dealt with since leaving Kathmandu. More mentally exhausted than anything else. Khatima is quite filled with travellers (all Indian), there's a wedding tonight, and it's at my hotel, the only one with a spare room. Damn those Indians, they're smart. While the party's going on, they can slip off to other hotels and get some sleep... but not me, on the ground floor, window to the wedding tent. Well, should be an interesting night!

Feb. 2 - near Nepalganj, Nepal

Thursday, February 2 :: Mahendra Highway, near Nepalganj, Nepal :: 13km today / 3326km total

Another absolutely crazy day. It started normally enough, with a short ride into Mugling for a Nepali breakfast. Pushing South, I was now only 34km from Bharatpur, almost having completed the out-and-back from the flatlands of the Terai to Kathmandu. Almost. 13km along, hammering along, I heard a horrendous sound coming from my rear wheel, with great tension in the drivetrain. I slowed to a controlled stop, thinking "what now?". Well, one of my bungee cords had snapped, dropping the 2 pieces of clothes that it was holding; my shorts onto the road, and my favourite shirt - that I use for warm/hot weather cycling - into my rear derailleur and gear cluster. Great. On closer inspection I realized that things were worse than I thought - my rear derailleur - the thing that changes gears - was broken in 2 places and unfixable. Without my chain tool (lost in Bombay) I couldn't even put the bike into one gear and ride - the drivetrain was caught up in broken derailleur pieces. And of course the shirt was a goner.

After a few minutes of rationalizing I slipped my sandals on and, again, started walking with the bike. I'm getting too used to this mode of transportation. I coasted on the downhills, and walked the flats and uphills. After a few kilometres I came across a landslide that heavy machinery was busy clearing away. This was good news for me, because there was a lineup of buses and trucks waiting to be let through. In about 5 minutes I was loaded, and off for the short ride down to Bharatpur.

Bharatpur was well-stocked with little bike shops, I knew from having passed through before, and it wasn't long before an able mechanic was furiously working on my drivetrain. Fortunately there are some geared bikes around here (this IS Nepal, the people need gears on their bikes to climb) and the mechanic pulled out a shiny new derailleur and slapped it on my bike. For $7 total (labour and parts) it was all done. The bike will ride, but with a $5 derailleur I know the chain will be slippy. Only a few hundred metres away was the bus "station", and soon enough I was off to Mahendranagar, Nepal's Westernmost town on the Mahendra Highway. I have 2 days to get out of Nepal before all businesses close.

The driver drove like I've never seen before - absolutely crazily, as fast as the bus would go. At times I swore we were going to roll over, and I was actually scared. I've seen far too many crashes on these roads, I know they're far from rare. I sat at the back, I knew the safest place, since most crash relics I've seen have crunched-up fronts with relatively intact rears. But there was a reason he was going this fast, as I was about to find out.

The bus went through army checkpost after army checkpost, and several times we all had to get off, be checked over, and get back on. We also passed Mao roadblocks, obstructions made of rocks or logs, unmanned but highly annoying. My fellow passengers told me we'd be stopping for the night near Nepalganj, for security reasons. Fine enough. Well, we almost made it through cleanly. After darkness set in, about half an hour from our stop, we were motioned over to the side of the road by a silhoutte of a man with a machine gun. I happened to be watching at the time and asked the man next to me "Army? Or Mao?" Mao. Great. Believe me, its not a reassuring feeling to be in a vehicle that has been pulled over in the dark by some stranger(s). The bus ticket agent jumped off and talked to the man, who demanded that the men on the bus get off, two at a time, to be fleeced. Sigh. Being dark, I couldn't see anything out the window, or how many Mao were out there. So, starting from the front, 2 got off, gave up their cash, and got back on. Of course those of us at the back were furiously burying money wherever we thought it could go undetected... but the problem is, when you're the only foreigner on the bus, everyone is also watching where YOU are stashing your cash... what a rock and a hard place. Do I get off the bus with all my cash, hoping to retain some of it from the Mao, or do I stash lots on the bus, hoping my fellow passengers won't take it when I get off? I went with the Mao, and stashed cash in various places on my body. As I was about to be summoned, some vehicle headlights appeared from behind, and the Mao apparently made for the bushes, waving us off. Whew! I later found out that large sums of money had been extracted, and that many passengers doubted that the men were Mao... they were probably bandits pretending to be Mao. Even better (shudder).

We made it to our little oasis, apparently well guarded by the army, with many trucks, buses, and other vehicles huddled in. There were some guesthouses, and I had a marginal room. I HAVE to get out of Nepal.

Feb. 1 - Mugling, Nepal

Wednesday, February 1 :: near Mugling, Nepal :: 114km today / 3313km total

Up VERY early to get to Kathmandu International Airport for the Everest flight. Well, it was pretty much everything I had imagined it could be. The plane was small, maybe 16 passengers, everyone with a window seat. We were given outline maps of the peaks we would see, and it was most of the big ones. Being quite an Everest-phile I needed no hint or pointers on spotting it; the classic dark pyramid of Everest jutted out quite boldly amidst the lower neighbouring peaks. I was able to pick out numerous significant landmarks; the South Col, Lhotse, Nuptse, the South Summit, the Khumbu Glacier, the Western Cwm. Aside from Everest, I could see all the way from Dhaugliri to Kanchenjunga; the Himalaya are amazing, particularly from eye-level to their summits.

Back on the ground, and back in Thamel (central Kathmandu) I had a quick breakfast, packed up, and cycled over to the Pakistani Embassy. Kathmandu is a great city, one of my favourites, but it's time to start getting myself out of Nepal. After a short delay and a painful visa fee my passport was back in my possession, now quite full and out of free pages. There's a shiny new "Islamic Republic of Pakistan" visa, all ready for the border crossing in a few week's time. It'll be my first 'stan!

Now noontime, no time to waste in getting down to Mugling, 110km away. I was on the wrong side of Kathmandu (NE) and had to ride the Ring Road around to the West side. Not entirely fun, city traffic never is. Kathmandu sits at 4000 feet, in a bowl-shaped valley... to start my descent, I had to climb to the valley rim, and it was at least 1000 feet up, quite chilly at the col. After cresting it was a steep, winding, switchbacking descent for 40km, complete with sheer walls and dropoffs, a slick road (at times), and the usual insanity of the drivers. When I could look at it the landscape was dramatic, but I had to keep my eyes on the road, and the next bend, and the oncoming vehicles. The saving grace here is that I was descending as fast as the large vehicles, so I didn't have to suffer from their close, rushed passing; it was the "doubles" coming uphill at me - the side-by-side trucks and buses - that caused the concern.

For the next 60km the road roller-coastered up and down, slightly overall down, but with much climbing in between. As usual my frame cracked and I had to walk for 5km to seek out welding. Frame cracks are becoming par for the course, now, and if I count it right my frame has been blasted by a welding torch 5 times this trip. After the welding was done I had to race down (and up) the valley against the setting Sun, and pulled into a resort 6km from Mugling as darkness set in. I got a great price for a room, and had a fantastic sleep with Himalayan peaks all around.