Final Post - Mar. 12 - Delhi, India

Sunday, March 12 :: Delhi, India :: 0km today / 5740km total

Well this is it. My last day in South Asia. I'm all set for the long planerides home, and took it quite easy today, taking in the last bit of India for... a long time, at least. I'm happy and ready to be coming home, but at the same time I'm also very sad to be leaving here. It really has been an incredible experience, and I think I'll really start to miss the Subcontinent in about a month or two. Three months ago I came to the Subcontinent thinking I knew a bit about the cultures here, but there is so much to absorb that I leave knowing that I only scratched the surface. I know that I'm in for major culture shock when I get home - last year I suffered culture shock coming home from 2 months in SE Asia, and this trip has certainly been a far deeper experience. I may have to go camp out on Gerrard St. East for a while! But Gerrard East ("Little India" in Toronto, for those that don't know) bears only a superficial relation to what you experience in India or Pakistan. Even the food in the restaurants there is quite different from the average meal you'd have here.

I thought I'd put down some of my final thoughts and impressions of the three countries I've travelled through, while I'm here and the memories are still vivid.

Nepal: A fantastic country with a gentle, friendly people. If they can get past their civil war and banditry I'd love to come back and do the Annapurna Circuit (at least!). Exotic Kathmandu was my favourite large city of this trip. Sandwiched in the middle of my trip, it was nice to go to a country where women had a close-to-equal status with men, at least compared to India and Pakistan.

Pakistan: A country you have to be careful in, especially female travellers, but once you understand and adapt to the culture, a wonderful place to travel - all in all my favourite country of this trip. Other travellers that I've met over the years - male and female - have consistently given Pakistan a good review, second only to Iran in many cases. For those unwilling to adapt or "When-in-Rome" it, Pakistan is a bad bad place to go. Pakistanis think of the Karakoram Highway as the 8th Wonder of the World, and I have to agree with them - I have never cycled a more spectacular road, passing through scenery that you can scarcely believe exists. I want to finish the KKH - Gilgit (Pakistan) to Kashgar (China). Not next year, but in a few years.

India: I can't put one finger or description on India, because it is far too diverse. Apart from being large and geographically varied, India is a dramatic mix of religions, history, cultures, and people. Thats what mades India so exciting. Even at the relatively slow pace of a bicycle, things were constantly changing around me as I travelled through. In terms of sightseeing India definitely shines in terms of buildings and monuments - its the rare country that can compete with India's wealth of manmade historical sites. Yes, travelling India is tough, I've never travelled through a country that offered so many headaches, and at times it got to me, as you can probably tell from this blog. But thats part of the whirlwind of India, and also part of travelling for 3 months straight. You can't be chipper and happy all the time. If you were to ask me if I would recommend India to travel to, there would be no simple answer, and I would have different answers for different people - for some people the Himalaya would be great, for others Goa, for others the Cosmopolitan, progressive cities of Delhi or Bombay, for others the Buddhist environs of Darjeeling, for others the Mughal history of Rajasthan, for others the quieter, easygoing states of Gujarat, Maharastra, or Kerala... when I look back on it, for me, really, it was all incredible.

Bye from Delhi!

Mar. 11 - Delhi, India

Saturday, March 11 :: Delhi, India :: 0km today / 5740km total

Another shopping day. I stayed near my hotel, there are enough shops in my district to keep you shopping for about 5 months.

I disassembled and boxed up the bike today, which was sad, because it really means my trip is coming to an end.

Mar. 10 - Delhi, India

Friday, March 10 :: Delhi, India :: 0km today / 5740km total

Went to the Jama Masjid (India's largest mosque), the Red Fort, and the Gandhi Memorial/Museum today. The first two were uninspiring, after seeing many similar buildings in the past 3 months. Gandhi was cremated at a park now called "Raj Ghat" (Ghat of the Ruler/King), I'm not sure he would have preferred to be linked to the concept of a king, in fact I know he would rebel against it and demand a namechange. Why they don't change the name of the park is beyond me. They could name the place something more along his lines like "Ghat of the People", or "Truth Ghat".

The Gandhi Museum was great, but disturbingly unattended, in contrast to Delhi's other tourist attractions. I mean, Gandhi IS India, he has to be India's most well-known and respected man. Every Indian banknote has Gandhi on it - every denomination - and no other people represented. The museum was very moving, with items and pictures from his life interspersed with his simple, direct speeches concerning his philosophies about truth and nonviolence. I've read his biography so much of what I saw was quite familiar to me. A detailed map showed his Salt March through Gujarat - I could pick out towns on the route that I had cycled through, and one or two that I slept in. This type of thing made the experience that much more personal - I've felt the same landscape and climate, ate the same food, met the same people. They actually had the bullets on display that "took baba-ji away from us". Very sad.

After that it was more shopping, oh joy. It rained today, and the road through the backpacker's district was all sludge - there are many cows in Delhi - so you can imagine...

Mar. 9 - Delhi, India

Thursday, March 9 :: Delhi, India :: 0km today / 5740km total

All admin and shopping today: bikebox, haircut, gifts, etc. Delhi is a shopper's paradise. Good food, too.

Mar. 8 - night train to Delhi, India

Wednesday, March 8 :: night train to Delhi, India :: 1km today / 5740km total

Things were very quiet in Varanasi today - a strike had been called to protest the bombings, and almost everything is closed other than the hotels. I've seen similar days like this in Nepal and Pakistan, and I'm not sure how closing businesses helps against terrorism or political adversaries. If I were a terrorist I'd be laughing at the Indians/Nepalese/Pakistanis for holding a strike - its exactly the kind of notoreity and effect that terrorists want, isn't it? Correct me if I'm wrong. There are many, many people living day-to-day in South Asia, and I think they're the ones that are hurt most by silliness like this... the very poor who need people like me walking down the street, buying their oranges, drinks, internet, etc.

Maybe its a good thing that I didn't stray far from my hotel, because I started to feel terrible (again). Each successive sickness that I've had this trip seems to be less and less acute, though - maybe my body is building up faecal coliform/e. coli resistance (not exactly something to boast, or that you want your body to have to do). I could probably drink from the Don River when I get back to Toronto! Yay.

My train was scheduled for 6:45 p.m., and I expected a full-on security presence at the station. I was, after all, taking the exact same scheduled train that was bombed yesterday. I suppose with a name of "Shiv Ganga" (Shiva - the patron God of Varanasi, and "Ganga" - the name for the Ganges) it was an obvious bombing target. But, everything went smoothly, and I rolled into Delhi early the next morning.

Mar. 7 - Varanasi, India

Tuesday, March 7 :: Varanasi, India :: 0km today / 5739km total

Before arriving in Varanasi I had decided to stay in a midrange hotel near the train station, to get away from the Old City's touts and crime. So it was a long early morning rickshaw drive through jam-packed streets down to the ghats.

Varanasi is Hinduism's most religious city, as I understand it. It is the city of Shiva, and where many Hindus come to die. The Ganges River is lined with ghats (steps leading down to the river) where people pray, wash clothes, bathe, and hold funerals. I decided to "walk the ghats", from one end to the other, to observe the human spectacle. I came across one funeral of a particularly holy man, so holy that his body did not need to be burned to cleanse it - the body went straight into the river (in a box). Nearby were goldpanners sifting through the riverside mud and ash - reminiscent of the Yukon, except that the source of gold in the Ganges in Varanasi has nothing to do with geology.

It was getting hot, damn hot, thank-god-i'm-not-cycling hot, and I melted my way back to my hotel district, straight over to a neighbouring 5-star's swimming pool. Ahhhhhhh. After a few hours I meandered my way back to my hotel, and around 4 p.m. went to my room to relax a bit before dinner...

During a movie on HBO, around 6:20 p.m., there was a loud bang coming from the direction of the railway station, and it made my room shake. I figured there was some confusion in the station, some trains had bumped, no biggie. I mean, this is India, Safe and Sound India. After the movie was over I was flipping channels and saw that something big was going on, although I couldn't decipher the Hindi, so I kept flipping. CNN India is in English, and it turned out the bang was a bomb, one of a few co-ordinated bombs that went off around Varanasi. One bomb was in an important Hindu Temple, another at the train station, and a few others were found that didn't go off. As I was watching, a report stated that the train station bomb happened inside a train, the Shiv Ganga Express. Hmmmm. Why is that name vaguely familiar? OH MY GOD. My insides froze over as I reached over to my money pouch, and pulled out my train ticket for tomorrow:

08/03/06
6:45 p.m.
Varanasi to Delhi
Shiv Ganga Express

Pretty crazy, eh? Ya. It took a bit of time to shake that one off, but I got up and went out to the street to get to an Internet cafe. As I was walking along there was a loud bang that scared the crap out of me and had me ducking into a corner, but the Indians laughed and pointed to a wedding that was proceeding onwards, hell or high water. They were letting off small fireworks. Most shops had closed up, and I had to retreat to the expensive internet and food at the hotels. Its probably a good thing not to be on the streets tonight, anyways - things could get crazy. There is already talk of this being a Pakistani-based terrorist bombing, and Hindus have a history of violent blind revenge (in 2002 a train fire which killed 59 Hindu pilgrims inspired the massacre of around 2000 Muslims, although it has later been shown that the fire was accidental). I hope the local Muslims are smart enough to stay inside.

Mar. 6 - Varanasi, India

Monday, March 6 :: Varanasi, India :: 6km today / 5739km total

I woke up early but completely unmotivated to go to war against the drivers and the heat. After 20 minutes of contimplation I decided it was ok not to ride to Varanasi, and that I was happy with that. So here in Lucknow, essentially, my bike trip ends. I quickly grabbed a train ticket (for tonight) and took it easy for the rest of the day. Now, for the first time this trip, I was not forcing myself to eat, and it made for a pleasant, relaxing day. Nothing really of interest to report, and I arrived in Varanasi around 1 a.m.

Mar. 5 - Lucknow, India

Sunday, March 5 :: Lucknow, India :: 3km today / 5733km total

In the morning I went over to the Bara Imambara, a complex containing a mosque, tomb, and labyrinth. Really it was the labyrinth I was after, and had brought along pen and paper in case it was as tough as rumoured to be. I've been fascinated by mazes and labyrinths since I was young, so was terribly excited about this. I made a beeline through the complex for the labyrinth, ascended the stairs, and began my way through it. Unfortunately I had the 4-level complex figured out in about 10 minutes, what a disappointment! There were 3 big factors that made the labyrinth too easy to nagivate:

i) the labyrinth was very narrow and long, not squarish
ii) along the long sides, at extremely frequent intervals, were windows overlooking either the outer grounds (on one side) or the large inner hall of the complex - this gave far too frequent points of reference - you couldn't get lost
iii) easiest of all, there were long central corridors running down most levels, from one end to the other.

So, pen did not touch paper and I left feeling a bit cheated - the descriptions I had read "tourists without guides will get lost", "built to confound enemy soldiers", etc., had greatly overdramatized it. All they had to do was block up some parts of the long inner corridors and outer windows, and the labyrinth would become a... labyrinth... oh well. My cat Twiggy would have had no problem figuring her way out (she's a smart kitty, but still...).

I left Bara Imambara at 10 a.m. and had a quick decision to make... to bike or not to bike today. It was already quite hot, and Lucknow is a decent city... I'll start the 2-day, 275km ride to Varanasi very early tomorrow morning. I wasn't overly fond of my hotel, though (mosquitos), so packed and moved over to the train station district. There was a nice midrange hotel that I had my eye on, but they had raised their prices... my pretend-I'm-a-Lonely-Planet-guide-author tactic worked this time (success rate around 40%), and they bent over backwards for me (reduced rate, etc). I don't try this tactic often, maybe 3-4 times this trip, only at more pricey places as a quick means to get near to the "local" rate.

After booking my final train ticket from Varanasi to Delhi (3 nights from tonight), I ate ate ate, internet'd, and will focus on eating again, tonight. I'm still feeling very low on energy, and I think my body needs a longish vacation from cycling to recover from the beating it's taken over the past 3 months. Well, a break from the bike won't be hard to accomplish in late-winter Canada. Starting tomorrow, my final week in the Subcontinent should consist of 2 full cycling days, 1 sightseeing day in Varanasi, and 4 days in Delhi to pack/bike box/shop/sightsee.

Mar. 4 - Lucknow, India

Saturday, March 4 :: Lucknow, India :: 90km today / 5730km total

A very late morning start, I really wasn't interested in riding after yesterday's poor showing. But Sitapur had nothing to hold me there for a day, so I left. It was, after all, less than 100km to Lucknow down a dead flat road.

The ride was thankfully uneventful, other than the usual nonsense which is par for the course for cycling in India. Even after my massive meals last night I still felt weak, but the road offered no challenges (other than the 85km of it) and I spun my way relatively easily into Lucknow. Lucknow is a surprisingly clean city with a nice downtown... but strangely quiet? Much of Lucknow turned out to be closed today - there was some rioting in town yesterday (which left 4 dead any many wounded) related to either Bush's trip to India, or the Indian President's appearance here in Lucknow, or both. This type of thing seems to be cursing me this trip... unexpected political events causing hiccups for me. This Internet cafe was the 4th I checked, the only one open, with only 1 computer terminal! The first few hotels I came across were "full" and turned me away... I'm not sure if I believed them or not, Lucknow is quite heavily hoteled and this is not the high season... I think that with the anti-Bush rioting yesterday some hotel owners were leery of having a Western guest.

The tomb/mosque/labyrinth that I had come to see was closed, along with almost everything else, so I will try to see it tomorrow morning. Its about 275km to Varanasi, and if I ride it all the way (which seems likely at this point), my final trip total will be a nice round number! No, I did not plan it this way.

Mar. 2 - night train to Bereilly, India

Thursday, March 2 :: night train to Bereilly, India :: 9km today / 5475km total

After yesterday's money fiasco I was left with very few Indian Rupees, and lots of American dollars and British Pounds... and had to wait until 10 a.m. for the moneychangers to open, to get back rupees, to get a train ticket! How silly the whole mess was. Easily enough done though, and quickly over to the train station. There was a 6:20p.m. train going where I wanted to, but the Sikh ticket agent told me I would be wait listed...

"ah, yes I'm from Canada... your brother is in Brampton? I'm from Toronto. There are many Sikhs in Toronto and area, in fact, I have a very good Sikh friend, Chandeep Singh..."

With that I was off the waiting list and guaranteed a seat. I've had many conversations along those lines in the past 3 months... substituting "Sikh" and "Chandeep Singh" for "Hindu" and "Puneet Singh", or "Muslim" and "Ashfa Qureshi" where appropriate, depending on whom I'm talking to, of course. I hope you three don't mind being "used" like this, as you know it makes my travels much smoother in the Subcontinent!

I was very happy, I would get into Bereilly at 7 a.m., perfect. Anyone who has been following my route will see why I picked Bereilly to start my ride to Varanasi... Bereilly to Varanasi is roughly equivalent to the ride I was SUPPOSED to do in Nepal from Bharatpur to Mahendranagar (but I took a bus instead to avoid the Maoist election troubles). Plus I would get to ride through Lucknow, supposedly an interesting city with a tomb that has some sort of labyrinth constructed? The thought makes me ancy with anticipation!

I said goodbye to the 5 British cyclists, they're taking a rest day today, then cycling towards Delhi... their first 300km or so will be on the same route I rode (in reverse direction) through the Punjab. Their ride ends at Everest, which they will attempt to climb, and I wished them many blue sky days on the mountain. If you're interested, www.everestmax.com.

Errands time, lots of little things to get done, including welding. The welding shop was next to a temple that was handing out naan/chapati to the poor, and it was absolutely heartbreaking. One of the hardest things for me during this trip has been witnessing the poverty, including the infants, 1-3 years old, particularly the little girls (the little boys at least have a massive cultural gender bias to help them through). So I stood there, holding my bike frame up for the welder to do his thing, watching a scene that would break down the coldest of hearts. I couldn't take it, and walked into the temple to donate a few hundred rupees for food for the poor. Its better than giving money directly to the poor, but still not a real solution, which in my mind is more along the lines of contraception and anti-corruption measures - neither of which I can influence. Its hopeless, really, and thats the worst part of it all.

Mar. 3 - Sitapur, India

Friday, March 3 :: Sitapur, India :: 165km today / 5640km total

The train arrived on time, and sometime before 8 a.m. I was off and rolling. I'm back in Uttar Pradesh now, a state that I had liked the first time around. The road from here all the way to Varanasi should be hot, dead flat, with horribly dangerous drivers. All three factors a dramatic change from Pakistan's Karakoram Highway!

I was well-rested, but not well-fed, still, if conditions were favourable (tailwind, good road surface, not being sent into the gravel more than, say, 10 times) I knew today could be a massive one. My legs were aching to go, so I hammered the first 85km, not stopping at all. Well, thats not quite true - I was run off the road a few times by oncoming trucks/buses, ah, so good to be back cycling on Indian roads. And yes, lots of carnage all over the place again, but no dead/bleeding bodies or bloodspots on the road today. Either way, I found a great eatery at my first waypoint town, and devoured a massive meal of chicken tikka and naan. India DEFINITELY holds the title for best food. It took some time for the food to digest, but still I rolled through 110km exceedingly quickly. During a busy stretch a minibus sideswiped me, almost knocking me off the bike - the bike went into the "wobblies" (weaving back and forth uncontrollably, at high speed), which usually means you're going down... I've been there a few times. All I could think during those 1.5 seconds was "if I go down its going to be very messy" and fought hard for control, trying to counter-intuitive my steering. Somehow it worked, I regained control, but lost my temper, threw the bike into a high gear, and hammered after the minibus, which had not hung around to see what happened to me. If I caught the bus the driver was going to have a very, very bad day, as I tried to remember how deep I had packed my bicycle pump. I was praying for a town, roadworks, train, anything that would make a bike faster than a bus... but the road was straight, un-towned, and fast, and after 5km I had to give up the chase.

50km from Sitapur I backed off the pace... Sitapur sat at 165km, Lucknow around 250km, with nothing in between... to make Lucknow would be really tough without a tailwind, which the Sitapur-Lucknow stretch of road did not have, based on local conditions. And it was a good thing I slowed, because 10km later I started feeling awful - weak, headache, feeling faint. As I write this I'm not really sure why... dehydration? heat? pace? Usually I'm pretty good with the self-diagnosis on these things, but its still a mystery to me. Anyways, I was miserable. The last 40km into Sitapur was horrible. I'll force myself an easy 88km to Lucknow tomorrow to fully recover from whatever it was, then allow myself a bigger day Sunday.

Oh by the way, for you photographers out there, I came up with a GREAT idea for a photography book. "Road Accidents of India". No, don't show any bodies, but you have to see the crazy angles and contortions that vehicles end up in here, post-crash. It really is unbelievable, laughable to those flipping a page (not laughable to me, here). Think of the craziest car crash scenes in Hollywood movies, you know, where a car ends up rolled over, pointing downhill, it's tail up in the air, then imagine big trucks and buses doing that, alone or mangled with another one, their loads cleared or spilled out one side - you get the idea.

Mar. 1 - Amritsar, India

Wednesday, March 1 :: Amritsar, India :: 63km today / 5366km total

Slept in late, but no worries, an easy day planned, back across a route I rode about a month ago, into India. I rolled along gently, enjoying my last 30km in Pakistan. I was quite sad at the border - Pakistan has been very, very good to me, and I hope I was good to it. Ah well. I changed all my money into Indian Rupees (BIG MISTAKE) and left Pakistan.

At the India customs office they decided to be assholes, and I didn't catch on to what they were up to until well along the Hell I was going through. The "problem" was that I was carrying too much cash in Indian Rupees, and they didn't want to let me into India. Even more, they wanted to "impound" the money, worth $500CDN, and give me a useless receipt that would not be a receipt after all, since all I could do with it is get a court case started. Now, this is the third time I'd entered India, and both of the previous 2 times I also was carrying a similar sum of cash. So I knew this was a scam, and I said things I probably shouldn't have, like a defiant "Pakistan Zindabad!" (Pakistan forever!). I was MAD. The men cursed at me under their breath and I loudly challenged them, asking them to say what they said so I could hear it. They wouldn't, of course. I demanded to be let back to Pakistan where the sane people would let me across the border (even though I only had a single-entry visa to Pakistan, now used up), so that I could change the money into "acceptable" currency, like $US or GBP. They didn't want to allow me to take my money back to Pakistan, which was clearly stupid and not a legal stance on their part - there was nothing "forcing" me to stay in India. It was 4 on 1, we were at a stalemate, them stonefacing me, holding onto my cash, me not leaving their face, so I had to pull the trump card...

Softly, I looked at them all, and said "What would Gandhi-ji want you to do?"

At this they immediately melted, almost comedically, handed me my money, and off I went into the no-man's land between the Indian customs office and the Pakistani border. Some helpful Indians, ashamed of what their customs people were doing to me, offered to place a phonecall to the Pakistani side to try to help me out. I thanked them, and told them it was unnecessary - I knew what the Pakistanis were like. I walked back to the border, signed out of India (thank Allah my Indian visa is unlimited re-entry), and walked up to the Pakistani border police. I explained the situation, showed them my single-entry status for Pakistan, but it was again unnecessary as they were more than happy to help me. I walked back into Pakistan, and in 10 minutes I had US$ and GBP... Pakistan Zindabad! I then went back to the Indian customs... it took a LOT of self-control, but I kept my mouth shut, threw my visa and customs form at them, and walked away to let them do their thing. Here were 5 cyclists, also waiting for processing, on their way from Jordan to Everest (to climb it!), so I had more than enough to distract me. I'm the first foreign cyclist they've met.

Across the border it was nice to see the joyous, fun Indians again. I rode with the 5 cyclists into Amritsar - our agendas are very different, so we will probably part ways tomorrow.

Feb. 28 - Lahore, Pakistan

Monday, February 28 :: Lahore, Pakistan :: 4km today / 5303km total

Another brutally long transit day. On my first minibus ride the bus was filled with very conservative, elderly Pakistani men, the man beside me quietly chanting from the Qu'ran, or thereabouts, much of the way. We talked a bit, and I don't think I've ever met a man whose eyes displayed such inner peace and tranquility. All of them were extremely welcoming and happy to have me in their company.

After coming through such a conservative area I feel the need to say a bit about Islam and the culture here. Islam is very misunderstood in the West, most people really don't know what it's all about. Islam shares the same theological background as Christianity, with 2 main differences that I see: like Jews, Muslims do not believe in the divinity of Jesus (although they do believe he was a really, really good guy, a very important Prophet of God), and Muslims believe that another really, really good guy came along about 600 years after Jesus, named Muhammed. Muhammed is responsible for writing/producing the Qu'ran, and, like Jesus, was not divine. He is the most important Prophet, however, because he delivered the Final Word of God. Christians and Jews, not having adopted the Final Word, would be viewed as "backwards", theologically, not having the whole picture, but not "evil" or bad. Allah is their name for the Christian/Jewish God. Same guy. The Bible is also Holy to Muslims, and they revere Moses, Abraham, etc. as also very, very good guys. When Christians or Jews pray to God they are praying to Allah. Every Muslim I've met understands all this, and understands the similarity to Christianity and Judaism. Islam gets a bad reputation from the actions of a handful of bad men, all of whom true Muslims wash their hands of. These men use clever propaganda and media manipulation to confuse the masses to achieve their personal agendas - but this is nothing new or unique to Islam: look at 1930's Germany, or 2001-2006 United States.

Two bus changes, another long day, into Lahore at 1 a.m., India is 30km away (again!).

Feb. 27 - Besham, Pakistan

Sunday, February 27 :: Besham, Pakistan :: 6km today / 5299km total

I thought long and hard last night about continuing up the KKH, but when I read in my guidebook that the road quickly rises another 3000 feet, my decision was made. It would simply be too cold, I've pushed that envelope far enough. I was very happy to have made it this far, its been among the best rides in my life, and I think I'll be back to complete the ride into China... Gilgit, Pakistan to the penultimate Silk Road town of Kashgar, China, about 700km of riding. And I'm not doing it alone, next time... yes, you out there, you know who you are... yes I'm looking at you... don't try to hide! You're coming.

So I was up early and rode across town to the bus station, feet numb upon arrival, underscoring my decision to stop. A long bus ride, fortunately the Swiss man from the guesthouse was on the bus, and we had much to talk about. Again, like everyone else I've met who've been there, he said Iran was his favourite country to travel through. You know what that means!

A rockslide South of Chilas stopped our progress, and it was a big one that would not be cleared anytime soon. Everyone disembarked, grabbed their baggage, and crawled across the slide to the other side where a mirror of the scene was taking place. In this way buses were swapped and everyone was off and rolling again. It should have been quick, but the price bargaining delayed departure for hours. Its called Fixed Pricing, Pakistan. Please adopt it.

We rolled into Besham after dark, and it was enough travel for me for the day. I grabbed a familiar room in a familiar hotel, and went to sleep.

Feb. 26 - Gilgit, Pakistan

Saturday, February 26 :: Gilgit, Pakistan :: 48km today / 5293km total

A relatively easy 48km to Gilgit - no switchbacks, no rockfalls, surprisingly good roads, occasional views of 7800m Rakaposhi. It was very chilly though, I was wearing all the heavy clothing I had: gloves, hat, etc. Even still my feet went numb from the cold, and I had to face the music that Gilgit may the end of my ride up the KKH. But the landscape was the most dramatic of the entire route, so vastly beautiful that it makes you want to weep with happiness to be alive and be among it, now in the "Throne Room of the Mountain Gods", as I've heard the Karakoram called... and experiencing it all from the best vantage point that exists.

As I passed the last police checkpoint before Gilgit there was a large roadsign, quite triumphant for me: 11km off a side road was Gilgit, less than 300km to China ahead. The words were in English, Arabic, and Chinese. I had ridden 540km up the KKH, a long, tough way. On the access road to Gilgit I was extremely happy, pumping the air with my fist, life was too good.

Gilgit is the penultimate town on the KKH, with an occasionally-used airstrip, lots of hotels, lots of food, lots of transport in and out, and lots of hot water in the bathroom. I found myself eating the local fare, though - its good and cheap. I stayed in a fantastic guesthouse, met the Japanese tourists again as well as an American and a Swiss. The local staff regaled us with stories of tourists past, including horrific murder tales of those who ventured doe-eyed into Afghanistan or who did very stupid things in rural Pakistan. There is nothing unsafe about most areas of Pakistan, for men and for women, as long as you understand and respect the culture - but that's the trick, isn't it. One story particularly highlighted the proper attitude: an Australian couple were being guided around Pakistan by the storyteller, and were having some difficulties with all the attention they were drawing - mostly the woman, of course. The guide suggested that she put on a burqa - the full head-to-toe covering that many to most Pakistani women wear (particularly in rural areas). She did, and her husband put on traditional clothing - and they became anonymous! No one looked at or bothered them - the burqa gave her freedom of movement . She loved her newfound mobility, and thanked the guide profusely for his help. Think what you will about the concept of the burqa, but understand that because the men here are so sexually... repressed, the burqa is a saving grace for women. Since I draw a lot of unwanted attention as well I briefly thought about the ramifications of wearing a burqa... but the sight of a burqa'd cyclist pounding up a climb, passing a truck, as funny as it is to me, would probably cause anger!

Feb. 25 - Jaglot, Pakistan

Friday, February 25 :: Jaglot, Pakistan :: 82km today / 5245km total

A very light drizzle to start the day, but the promise of the oasis of Gilgit, 130km ahead of me, was enough bait to get me out on the road and riding. The drizzle continued all day; not heavy enough to really soak me or the road, but enough to be annoying and turn the rockfall sections into mud. The road conditions out of Chilas were absolutely horrible, with countless rockfalls creating long stretches of mud and rock to pick my way through. There were hills, too, to further slow my progress. However, I did roll across the foot of Nanga Parbat, literally, and the locals who were nearby were wondering what I was doing looking at the rocks at the side of the road (like a good former geologist!). Nanga Parbat itself was lost in the clouds, again, and I would actually never see it's summit. I could, however, see 7800m Rakaposhi, and it was awesome enough to satiate my appetite for high mountain views.

Dubious frame sounds 50km in further slowed my progress, and I was starting to do the math about whether 130km was possible before dark. At Jaglot, 82km in, I considering stopping, as it would be a tough, cold push to make Gilgit before dark. Then a snowflake drifted down onto my hand - decision made, I'm not going any further tonight. There was ONE place in town, and at 100 rupees ($2CDN) it was very basic, but it had the saving grace of a tightly-closing bathroom door. The food in town was actually quite good, or maybe it's just that I'm becoming very adept at finding it. Typical rural Pakistani food consists of naan bread and either spinach curry, daal curry, or beef curry. All are good but the trick is convincing the cook not to slather the food with oil.

There was a large bus stopped temporarily in Jaglot, and some Japanese tourists came over to talk to me. Apparently they are cyclists, back in Japan, and so we had lots to talk about. 4 hours later they were back... their bus was turned around near Chilas from a rockslide... and they would be spending the night back up in Gilgit. They came to my hotel room and were shocked at the condition of it. And they didn't even see the bathroom!

A generator was running a little movie room, where many local men were watching a Hindi movie. Pakistan does not really have any film industry to speak of, so it's all Indian movies here - Hindi (India) and Urdu (Pakistan) are very similar languages, enough so that the Pakistanis can understand the dialogue. The funniest part of the movie for me was a scene where a young boy was praying to the Indian god Hanuman - the camera panned from him praying on his knees to the monkey-faced statue that he was praying to. The entire room of Pakistanis broke into laughter upon seeing the statue, certainly to them it must seem quite silly compared to the austere, solemn presence of Allah.

Power is very sporadic here in Northern Pakistan, and I'm writing this in my notebook by candlelight.

Feb. 24 - Chilas, Pakistan

Thursday, February 24 :: Chilas, Pakistan :: 124km today / 5163km total

The day dawned cloudy, but not darkly threatening, and I decided to go for it. From Dasu to Chilas was 124km of... nothingness... 1 food stop, no accomodation. Riding out of here is pretty much all or nothing, but I was well-rested and well-fed, and decided to go for it. I pounded down a huge breakfast and rolled onto the wet road.

I started slowly, allowing breakfast to digest and the roads to dry a bit. Clouds were very light to the Southeast which promised that the roads would get some sunshine as the day progressed. The terrain I was riding through now was alpine/arctic... no trees, little grass, lots of moss. Desolately beautiful. The road was also relatively flat, as the KKH goes, and stayed within a few hundred metres of the Indus River, never climbing too high on the valley wall. The River itself flattened, meandered, braided, and stopped thundering, which also meant less climbing for me - there were no switchbacks and no climbs longer than 2km today.

I was riding through a very conservative, rural area of Pakistan, and fortunately it was cold enough for me to wear pants all day. I was quick with the greetings and waving, better to be on the safe side. The traditional, respectful Islamic greeting is "salaam alekum", which means "peace be upon you". The knee-jerk required response is "wa'a alekum es salaam", which means "and peace be upon you, as well". So when I'm riding along throwing out "salaam alekum" with a wave and a smile, people cannot help but smile back and respond appropriately, whether they want to or not (their culture and religion requires them to). It takes the edge off of any situation where there might otherwise be tension. I think of it as pre-emptive resolution. And there were no problems at all, the people were very friendly without me pulling it out of them... the further up the KKH I ride, the more effort I put in, the more the locals seem to appreciate what I'm doing.

20km out of Chilas I rounded a corner and there it was, summit lost in the clouds... Nanga Parbat, the 8th highest mountain on Earth. Tomorrow I will ride across it's base, 30km from the summit (as the crow flies, but no crow flies to the summit of Nanga Parbat, believe me). Rolling into Chilas I quickly found my pre-determined hotel, and the staff were asking me "why is there mud on your face?" "why are you covered in mud?". Apparently they don't know what the KKH is like. Either way, all was heavenly when I found, in the bathroom, a bathtub! I haven't seen a bathtub since leaving Canada. And hot water! It would be 3 baths from check-in to check-out, the next morning.

Feb. 23 - Dasu, Pakistan

Thursday, February 23 :: Dasu, Pakistan :: 0km today / 5039km total

Rain. I wasn't going anywhere today, and that wasn't entirely a bad thing, tired as my legs were from more climbing than I've ever done in 3 days. I focussed on eating and sleeping, doing copious amounts of both. The high mountains all around town, and the Indus River below, make for a stunning backdrop to this little town. When I wasn't sleeping or eating I was looking all around, taking in the beauty of the Karakoram.

In the afternoon I walked slowly down to the market, and talked with many of the locals. At one point there was a group of around 50 around me, wondering who I was and why I was in their town for a day. All were friendly, they were just curious. As always, whenever you say "Canada" (or you hear it echoed in the crowd), all are smiling and more at ease with you. Too soon I was wet from the constant drizzle, and had to scurry back to the sanctity of my hotel.

And then back to sleep.

Feb. 22 - Dasu, Pakistan

Wednesday, February 22 :: Dasu, Pakistan :: 76km today / 5039km total

I saw my first road accident in Pakistan yesterday, and I laughed out loud as I rolled by it. Two cars had minor dents from a love tap with each other - no broken bodies, no destroyed vehicles. Compared to India and Nepal it was nothing, even though the drivers were quite agitated with each other! As I write this, after cycling 550km on the harrowing KKH, I have not seen any other accidents. The drivers are excellent and, above all, sane!

Today's ride was brutal. It was only 76km in total, but it was ALL up or down over a very rough, broken surface. There were no flats. Thats 40-45km of climbing (since overall I'm going uphill, up the Indus River, there was more climbing than descending). The road climbed high on the valley wall, then plunged down towards the river, then back up again, relentlessly and continuously. Often the road was just a notch in a near-vertical rock wall - but it was quiet, and I mostly had it to myself. For about 15km I played leapfrog with a particular truck; I would fly past it on the downhills, it would slowly reel me in on the uphills. Both of us were having a great time with the game, waving to each other as we passed/were passed. Eventually I needed sustinence, and the game was over.

Not only was the ride hilly, the road was broken by many rockfalls/landslides. These are often not fully cleared, leaving a muddy track for vehicles to wade their way through. Also frequent are stream crossings; streams cascading down the mountain valleys often run over the road, sometimes several inches deep... if I'm not careful I end up with wet feet while slowly coasting over them.

An interesting side note is that I left the Subcontinent today. The Indian landmass is often called the Subcontinent for a number of reasons, one of which is geological; India/Pakistan were once on a continent adrift in the Indian Ocean, a landmass that slammed into Asia, and merged into it. The result of the collision (which is still ongoing) is the Himalaya/Karakoram mountains, the highest in the world. They are getting higher every year, and it is no coincidence that last year's devastating earthquake happened nearby. Living in this region is analagous to living on the San Andreas Fault. Today I rode over the contact point, and now ride on the original Asian landmass. Kinda cool.

It was tough, but here on the KKH the scenery is so incredible that any pain, cold, or soreness is almost forgotten in the drama unfolding around you. It is nearly pointless to take pictures, since even IMAX could not capture the scene. Sort of like the Grand Canyon - you cannot capture the essence of it on film or in words, and any of you who've been there know what I mean. You have to be there.

I rolled into Dasu very tired after 3 straight days of monstrous hills. Food in town was dicey, but I did my best.

Feb. 21 - Besham, Pakistan

Wednesday, February 21 :: Besham, Pakistan :: 122km today / 4976km total

I lost this day's post, so am recounting it from memory, 10 days later!

A brutal day of climbing, easily one of the toughest climbing days of my life. From Mansehra the road rolled up to 5500 feet (about 2000 foot gain in elevation), higher than my target town of Gilgit (at around 5000 feet). What made it even tougher was the descents during the climb... the descents forced another 1000 feet or so of climbing. Very tough, steep switchbacks at times. After about 50km I finally crested over the pass, and began a 40km descent to the Indus River.

I'm now in Pashtun country, and the guidebook and police warn of unfriendliness towards travellers. Not THIS traveller, however; as soon as they see the bike, the mud and strain on my face, the sweat dripping from my brow, they understand that I am not quite typical and am sharing their country in a modest kind of way. Even with shorts on (usually a "no-no") they don't seem to mind, its all thumbs up and smiles. Modesty is an important aspect of Islamic culture, and my mode of travel is certainly not "posh" and does not put me "above them", as they may perceive that other modes of travel might. And, as male, there is always a bit of leeway. Truth be told a solo female would have a very difficult, potentially dangerous, time here.

Today was the first day of mindblowing Karakoram scenery. What makes the Karakoram different than other places I've been (including the Rockies, lower Himalaya in Nepal, Mexican volcanoes, etc) is the scale. The mountains force upwards at aggressive angles, with steep gorges or wide valleys in between. Its almost enough to give you vertigo, trying to take in the vastness around you. Cycling along a snaking road you feel quite insignificant among the monsters around you. But you keep plodding away, and eventually the kilometres click over.

The descent began harrowingly enough, but the final 25km was about the most fun I've ever had on a bike. Not steep enough to have to brake, but steep enough to have me flying along, avoiding obstacles, passing trucks, rolling over streams, through rockfalls, over short rises. Imagine the 1-2 minute thrill of a roller coaster, for 40 minutes straight.

Finally the Indus River loomed ahead, and the joyride was over. Now began 4-5 days of uphill riding along the Indus. Whenever the going got tough all I had to do was look around me, enjoy the spectacle, and remind myself that, after all, I am in Northern Pakistan doing what I love best! After some welding silliness I rolled into Besham, and had a great sleep after a tough day.