Graham in South Asia

Final Post - Mar. 12 - Delhi, India

2006-03-11T09:15:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-11T09:13:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-10T05:29:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-09T19:38:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-08T01:28:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-07T06:38:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-06T22:58:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-05T00:36:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-04T04:25:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-03T04:02:00.001-08:00

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

2006-03-03T04:02:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-01T07:22:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-01T06:57:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-01T06:45:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-01T06:20:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-01T05:54:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-01T05:51:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-01T05:38:00.000-08:00

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

2006-03-01T04:34:00.001-08:00

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

2006-03-01T04:34:00.000-08:00

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.

Feb. 20 - Mansehra, Pakistan

2006-02-20T04:52:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-19T05:40:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-18T06:42:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-18T06:18:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-16T07:20:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-15T06:28:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-14T05:57:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-13T04:38:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-13T04:22:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-11T06:45:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-10T20:49:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-09T04:55:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-08T05:35:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-08T05:19:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-06T05:23:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-05T05:13:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-04T05:04:00.000-08:00

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!

2006-02-04T04:11:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-03T04:43:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-03T04:07:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-03T03:43:00.000-08:00

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.

Jan. 31 - Kathmandu, Nepal

2006-01-31T02:44:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 30 - Kathmandu, Nepal

2006-01-30T09:42:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 29 - Hetauda, Nepal

2006-01-30T09:27:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

Jan. 28 - Bardibas, Nepal

2006-01-30T08:56:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

Jan. 27 - Lahan, Nepal

2006-01-30T08:45:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 26 - Damak, Nepal

2006-01-30T08:15:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 25 : Siliguri, India

2006-01-25T08:18:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 24 : Darjeeling, India

2006-01-25T07:36:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 23 : Calcutta, India

2006-01-23T03:08:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 22 : Calcutta, India

2006-01-21T21:33:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 21 : Bhubaneswar, India

2006-01-21T08:56:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

Jan. 20 : Bhubaneshwar, India

2006-01-20T05:15:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 19 : Bhubaneswar, India

2006-01-20T02:52:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

Jan. 18 : Madras, India

2006-01-20T02:34:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

Jan. 17 : Madurai, India

2006-01-20T02:10:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 16 : Kolliyam, India

2006-01-16T23:04:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

Jan. 15 : Cochin, India

2006-01-15T04:25:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 14 : Cochin, India

2006-01-14T08:22:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 13 : Calicut, India

2006-01-13T08:31:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

Jan. 12 : Calicut, India - crash

2006-01-12T06:11:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 11 : Taliparamba - Kerala State!

2006-01-11T06:52:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 10 : Mangalore, India

2006-01-10T08:29:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

Jan. 9 : Bhatkal, India

2006-01-09T00:47:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

Jan. 8 : Kumta, India

2006-01-08T23:15:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

Jan. 7 : Palolem, India

2006-01-07T20:19:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

Jan. 6 : Palolem, India

2006-01-06T09:25:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 5 : pics pics pics pics

2006-01-05T03:05:00.000-08:00

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

A weld

Sunset over the Arabian Sea

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

A small room in Bombay

Icing the knee

Heaven in the form of chicken tikka

On the ferry to Elephant Island (Bombay harbour)

The Taj hotel in Bombay

Bombay harbour

Typical street scene, Bombay

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

Stine and Lydia, Udaipur

Stine, happy to be going to Thailand, Udaipur

Church of Immaculate Conception, Panaji, Goa

View from my beach hut, Southern Maharastra

My beach hut, Southern Maharastra

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

Ferry roof, Konkan Coast of Maharastra

Ferry wharf, Konkan Coast of Maharastra

Disaster waiting to happen, Konkan Coast of Maharastra

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

2006-01-05T02:17:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jan. 4 : near Vangurla, India

2006-01-05T01:58:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

Jan . 3 : Rajapur - hell in the Ghats

2006-01-05T01:39:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

Jan. 2 : Chiplun - continued problems

2006-01-02T03:15:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jan .1 : Mandangarh - more problems

2006-01-02T03:03:00.000-08:00

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

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

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

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

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

Dec. 31 : Murud, India - an insane day

2005-12-31T05:50:00.000-08:00

Saturday, December 31 :: Murud, India :: 50km today / 1303km total

Got up late, in no rush for anything today, and strolled over to the wharf to get my ferry ticket out of Bombay. Easy enough, I had 2 hours to kill, and a good start was to have my 4th chicken tikka and naan meal in 2 days. Always yummy. Back to my room to pack.

Casually I was assembling my gear, getting ready, when I realized that my little tool pouch was missing. After ripping the room apart, cursing in Hindi, I still hadn't found it. GREAT. Must've lost it at the train station... hmmm. Fortunately I still had my pump, spare tubes, spare tire, and spare parts... I had lost my multitool, tire levers, lock, a wrench, a screwdriver, and my allen keys. These things are mostly replacable, Thank Krishna, so I set off to find a bike store.

A bike store in India is not like a bike store in Canada; imagine a gritty little hole in the wall, a chaotic jumble of all kinds of used bike parts everywhere. They are functional, however, and soon enough I had tire levers, an allen key, and a screwdriver. That would do, for now - only the more serious problems could I not now deal with, like a broken chain or pedal. Cycling furiously, careening through the streets of Bombay Indian-style, I just managed to make it in time for my ferry.

I would rather have an uneventful ferry ride than an eventful ferry ride, and the crossing was happily uneventful. Upon disembarking the Indians degenerated into a pushing, crowding mass of chaos that for some reason they seem to enjoy, so I waited to leave last. Its not hard to see why there are periodic trampling deaths in India... imagine had there been an actual reason to get off the ferry quickly.

The ride South along the Arabian Sea coast was fantastic, pretty much everything I'd hoped it would be. A tree-shaded road, lots of little shops selling drinks and ice cream, lots of accomodation options. The road was bad, however, and I was bouncing all over the place. No worries, drop the pace and push on...

Climbing a little hill I noticed a strange wobble. I stopped, checked all the usual suspects, thought maybe I was crazy, and got back on the bike. Immediate wobble. What the hell. I got off the bike again, and started rechecking everything, and scanning the entire bike. OH. MY. GOD. The frame. Was BREAKING. It goes without saying that bike frames are not supposed to break, but I'll say it anyways. BIKE FRAMES ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BREAK. I must've stood there for 10 minutes, stupefied. Of all things that could possibly happen. Of all things that I've dealt with during this, and previous, bike trips. My frame was breaking, just behind the front wheel and handlebars. In two places.

I walked to a little drink stop, bought some water, and sat down. My bike frame. Here, in the middle of Nowhere, India. We're not talking a flat tire. The FRAME. My steel frame. Well. Steel can be fixed, can't it? I've seen numerous breakdowns all over the place in India, and Indians furiously fixing all kinds of mechanical problems. I resolved that this one would just be another.

The Arabian Sea spared of one broken bike frame, I started walking down the road with my bike - the frame was still holding together - steel bike frames do not break "catastrophically" (thank Shiva), but gradually. I fandangled a lift from a passing truck, and off we went towards Murud, the largest town around.

I checked into a little seaside guesthouse - my first seaside anything this trip (the garbage and sewage-filled harbour of Bombay does not qualify), and found a welder. I handed him my bike, go to it, buddy. I implored him with all sorts of antics and Arnold-like contortions to make it strong, strong, strong. Murud is a popular Indian holiday spot, and there were all sorts of things going on, so off I went while my life passed into the hands of the welder. They had a daredevil motorcycle sphere which was fun to watch (for 10 rupees, 25 cents).

I picked up my bike, now with black and silver added to the whiteness of the frame. The weld looks... how the hell would I know. Its a weld. I have no idea if the frame will hold for 2km or 20000km. But I WILL ride out of Murud, tomorrow.

Dec. 30 : Bombay

2005-12-30T07:54:00.000-08:00

Friday, December 30 :: Bombay, India :: 0km today / 1253km total

I did the tourist thing today... a walking tour of colonial Bombay (yawn) and a boat trip out to some rock-cut caves on an island in the harbour. The caves themselves were kinda boring but the harbour was pretty fascinating... shipworks going as far as the eye could see, as well as a naval yard with battleships/destroyers and an aircraft carrier. The food has been fantastic and I've put down copious amounts of chicken tikka (barbecued, boneless chicken) and seekh kebab (mutton kebabs).

I had to search for ice today, as the guesthouse seemed hopeless on that issue - normally guesthouses have the lowdown on getting ice and are happy to do it free of charge. I walked to the market and started asking around, getting many strange looks (why does the gora want a block of ice?). Finally, just outside the fish market, I found it - a 500 pound block wrapped in multiple layers of burlap, just sitting there - I guess no one was likely to steal it. It took me quite some time to find someone to chop a piece off for me - 500 pounds of ice was more than my knee needed. Back to the guesthouse, flaunting the ice to the surprised staff, and into my room for 2 hours of knee-and-ankle-icing and HBO (thats TV, not some contrived acronym).

Now, out for a night stroll on the town, looking for a place to down a Kingfisher or two. Many bars in this area want a cover charge (are you kidding me? cover?) that costs more than my average guesthouse charge in India, so forget that nonsense. As you can tell I love Bombay and I may leave tomorrow, or not, we'll see. The next big target are the beaches of Goa, and it will be 3-4 days of silence from me as I ride down the Konkan Coast, where very few tourists venture, hence, no Internet likely to be found. I'm planning on lots of backroute shoreline riding, like I did in Southern Thailand, so progress is likely to be slow.

Dec. 29 : Bombay, India

2005-12-29T08:55:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, December 29 :: Bombay, India :: 67km today / 1253km total

The food last night wasn't great and I couldn't force much down my throat. Only 15km into today's ride I was feeling weak, tired, exhausted. I adjusted my day's expectation and decided to try for Daman, only 100km from where I started. It was NOT fun, riding along sluggishly, a slow cadence, head down, just making miles for the sake of making miles.

Almost fortunately, my knee started "twanging" again 50km in. Being quite familiar with IT Band Syndrome, I knew that last night's icing and stretching would probably not be a fix, and I was right. So again, as with my ankle 2 weeks ago, I was faced with a few options. a) stop and rest in the middle of nowhere and be back on the bike in a few days, b) ride on to Bombay and be off the bike for a week, or c) take a train/bus to Bombay, rest up, and be back cycling in a few days. Well, it's obvious, isn't it?

I pulled into Navsari, found the bus station - no buses to Bombay. Strange. They had a train station, though, and over to it I went. I managed to get a ticket, for myself and my bike... and soon enough (after lots of tipping for the bike-handlers), I was rolling South.

I was in 2nd class, the lowest class available. For a short train ride, I didn't think it would matter. There was nowhere to sit most of the time, except for on top of my bag, which is where I ended up when I was tired of standing. And yes, the toilet emptied directly to the tracks below.

As the train entered Greater Bombay it passed mile after mile of some of the most hopeless slums I've ever seen in my life. It was truly sad and depressing, particularly watching the children play games among garbage piles, swamps of... who knows what. Homes made of tents, tarp, metal siding, barely held together. Row after row of bleak, post-apocalpytic-looking apartment buildings. Quite unreal. I sort of staggered off the train in a stupor, this really was the worst I'd ever seen... worse than Mexico City, worse than Cairo, worse than Bangkok.

On the bike, I spun towards the Colaba district of Bombay through the night. The route took me along the waterfront and past some of Bombay's most flagrantly weathly hotels, restaurants, nightclubs. Completely awful to see this, immediately after seeing all the slums. The contrast was too much. I pulled into my guesthouse ($12/night! outrageous!) and found some great, protein-rich food (2 orders of chicken tikka and naan).

I'm not sure how long I'll stay here in Bombay. Hopefully not long. There's lots of full-of-themselves locals walking around, mostly rich because of genetic luck as opposed to any other reason. Its certainly not "real India" here, and the people do not have the gentle, easygoing, friendly nature of the rest of the Indians that I love. As well, in only 10 minutes of walking around for food etc, I've been hassled to buy hash, marijuana, go to massage parlours, as well as the usual begging. I'll fill up on protein (bigtime!), rest the legs for a few days, then get the hell out of here.

Dec. 28 : near Anklesvar, India

2005-12-29T08:34:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, December 28 :: 18km S. of Anklesvar, India :: 157km today / 1186km total

Nothing remarkable today, just a long slog down Highway 8 towards Bombay. A bit of a tailwind helped me along but still I felt depleted and less than 100%. Its very difficult ro find food that isn't fried or oily, as veg food tends to be. And there's no meat in Gujarat. Some big signs outside of restaurants displayed hamburgers, hot dogs, butter chicken, etc, but upon asking they cruelly turned out to be ruses, but, would you like a veg sandwich? No. No I wouldn't.

140km into the day my left IT band (knee) started to let itself be known to me. Not hurting, just "twanging", but I know this type of chronic injury well, having battled it in my triathlon racing days. Not a good sign, and troubling. I stopped at the first guesthouse I came to and, wearily, iced, stretched, and Ibuprofened. So tomorrow the tensor band that was guarding my right ankle moves to my left knee... its 310km to Bombay...

Dec. 27 : 6km S. of Nadiad, India

2005-12-29T08:25:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, December 27 :: 6km S. of Nadiad, India :: 122km today / 1029km total

The Indians in the guesthouse were extremely noisy last night and this morning, and seem to take tremendous pride in "horking" as deeply and loudly as possible. Fan-tastic. Either way, I hit the road around 8 a.m. still feeling strong, aiming for Vadodara, 170km away.

The road passed through rural Gujarat, all agriculture and all green. Very flat, the road sometimes deteriorated to gravel, but nothing unridable, although my pace was compromised at times. 90km along I knew I was in trouble. There was, quite simply, no gas in the tank. Nothing hurt, no soreness, I was just empty. I knew I would bottom out calorie-wise before I reached Bombay, but this was much sooner than expected. Great. I HAVE to TRY to eat more, but its hard when you are scared half the time of what you're eating - and the other half of the time the food is either fried or oily or both. Sigh.

I pushed on, slowly turning the pedals over, knowing the game was up for the day. Only rest and eating would bring my legs back. Just out of Nadiad I pulled into a roadside guesthouse, never having been more exhausted from a flat, wind-aided 122km ride. The place was run by Sikhs, which meant good food, albeit vegetarian (90% of Gujaratis are vegetarian). I like vegetarian food, but my legs (ankles, knees, etc) desparately need protein to recover.

Dec. 26 : Modasa, India

2005-12-29T08:09:00.000-08:00

Monday, December 26 :: Modasa, India :: 156km today / 907km total

Woke up today feeling completely psyched and ready to ride. During breakfast with the Norwegian girls my legs were literally shaking with anticipation and excitement. After helping Stine procure a cheap flight to Bangkok (on my recommendation!) I rushed back to my room for final preparations.

After goodbyes I rolled out onto the same cobblestone streets that had defeated me 2 days before. Ahead, I knew from my map, lay 120km of mountainous riding before a descent out of Rajasthan into the flatlands of Gujarat. As cyclists go I'm not a "climber", but today would prove otherwise.

3-4 days off the bike, sick as a dog, had built up a lot of frustration and some anger in me, and I vented bigtime. I stormed up the first climb, feeling invincible, passing a truck on the way. I was on FIRE today and dispatched of climb after climb, hour after hour, with tremendous ferocity.

The scenery was spectacular and quite a change from the garbage-lined desert roads of the rest of Rajasthan. For some reason there was little garbage here, as well as beautiful bone-dry mountains rising to either side, and sometimes in front. The road was wide, divided, had a paved shoulder, winding and undulating. Minimal traffic. Perfect.

The map wasn't wrong and it did turn out to be 120km of climbs and descents, nothing too steep though (the underpowered trucks wouldn't make it up 10%+ grades). I flew over all the climbs, riding on a wave of joy and deep-seated satisfaction. Finally I left Rajasthan and entered the State of Gujarat, my home for the next 3-4 days. The mountains disappeared, everything became green around me, and I hummed along flat roads for the first time today. Now a gentle tailwind rose, urging me along.

I pulled into Modasa, well off the tourist trail, and the only visible foreigner in this city of 100,000+. Food options were... pitiful so dinner comprised of 14 tangerines, choclate protein powder (straight from the jar), pineapple juice, and water.

Dec. 25 : Udaipur, with Bombay on my mind

2005-12-24T23:59:00.000-08:00

Sunday, December 25 :: Udaipur, India :: 0km today / 751km total

A late morning, as last night's activities ran into the wee hours. The hotelier at the party we were at was plying the 4 of us with free drinks to stay and keep dancing... we were the only foreigners there, and I guess our presence was considered auspicious, or at least desirable. So now I can add "professional dancer" to my resume!

We walked around Udaipur this morning, checking out some temples, the market, etc. Frank leaves tonight, I leave tomorrow a.m., and the girls leave a day or two after. The town is noticably quiet today. Tonight's plan for me is stretching, packing, chicken tikka, and a viewing of Octopussy - mandatory here in Udaipur.

From here its 700-800km to Bombay, the cultural and economic capital of India. The forecast is for daytime highs around 25-28C with tailwind, tailwind, tailwind. In between here and Bombay is the little-visited World Heritage Site of Champaner, which sounds really interesting to me and I will make a short daytime stop in about 2 days. I'm excited yet nervous to get back on the road - my legs feel recharged, ankle is fine, stomach is fine... but Bombay is a long way away with countless unknowns between here and there. But thats what I love most about travelling (particularly by bike) - you never know what's around the next corner. I've said in previous trips that, travelling by bike, you don't know what the next 15 minutes has in store for you... here in India, you don't know what the next 15 seconds has in store for you. The country is so completely eclectic, chaotic, unruly, yet... fascinating. If things go well I'll be in Bombay for New Year's Eve... is there any better place in India to be to ring in the New Year?

Dec. 24 : Udaipur and Xmas eve

2005-12-24T04:56:00.000-08:00

Saturday, December 24 :: Udaipur, India :: 3km today / 751km total

Upon arrival in Udaipur, at 4 a.m., 4 of us (German guy, 2 Norwegian girls, and me) decided to stick together and head for the same guesthouse. With one tuk-tuk in front and one behind I pedalled into town, all cocky-like in that I hadn't thrown up in the past 24 hours. We pushed through the night at 40km/h, me down on my aerobars, leaning through the tight corners, revelling in the speed and silentness. But the facade fell apart at the first cobblestone-hill... having barely eaten in the past 3 days my legs had no "go" and I shamefully waved the others on as I struggled through the climb. Not eating solid food for 3 days will do that to you, I guess.

In the morning we went to see the City Palace and Museum, as well as to view the Lake Palace, setting of part of the James Bond movie "Octopussy", as no one in Udaipur will let you forget. Udaipur is a beautiful city, the first city in India that I can say that about. There are few cows and many tourists here, as India goes, and tonight there are Christmas parties all over town - including fireworks. Its more like New Year's Eve parties, in effect, but thats ok. We've decided to break the bank a bit tonight - 1000 rupees ($25CDN) for a buffet meal, performances, dancing into the wee hours, with a great view over the lake. I told my Grandmother that I'd use my Xmas money for some good times in India, so here's #1. Should be fun, and my first real meal in 3-4 days.

I'm feeling better, well, pretty much. Every backpacker I've talked to has been sick in India at least once, and most never return to feeling completely 100% (until they go home). Tonight should jumpstart the eating, and I hope to leave by bike the morning after tomorrow (Monday 26th).

Dec. 23 : night bus

2005-12-24T04:49:00.000-08:00

Friday, December 23 :: Jaisalmer-Udaipur night bus, India :: 1km today / 748km total

I woke up feeling fine, but very weak. Still afraid to eat anything complex, I stuck to eggs, toast, and fruit. All was good, so I booked my ticket to Udaipur, setting a goal of not throwing up during the bus ride.

At 3:30pm the bus rolled out, bike on the roof, me in a funny little sleeper cabin. It was just big enough for me to stretch out but a nightmare for anyone with claustrophobia. I spent much of the ride chatting with one German and one Czech guy, about all things political and historical. The time passed quickly. Passing back through Jodhpur the bus collided with a tractor (surprise surprise) but only body damage was done, so on we went, through the night.

Dec. 22 : Jaisalmer - on the mend

2005-12-22T04:31:00.000-08:00

Thursday, December 22 :: Jaisalmer, India :: 0km today / 747km total

My dreams were pretty tortured last night, mirroring my stomach - all about chaos and the busyness of Indian roads. I woke up feeling weak, starving, but not nearly as bad as yesterday. In the past 9 days I've lost quite a bit of weight, with the big bike miles early on, and the sickness now. After posting my previous blog I went back to sleep, and by 1pm was feeling... 75%. I decided to be brave and struck out for Jaisalmer Fort, looming above my guesthouse. Moving slowly, it was good to be out and about.

Cows are everywhere in India, but it seems even moreso here in Jaisalmer. Now, I like cows just as much as the next (Western farm-grown) person, but it's starting to get a bit much. In Canada cows are fed on... you guessed it... grass and greenery. In India cows scavenge whatever they can find; I've seen them eating cardboard, random garbage, all sorts of nasty stuff. The difference in "what goes in" is apparent in "what comes out", as cowpoo here definitely has a nasty, rancid smell. Imagine a city full of it. Welcome to Jaisalmer, India.

The fort was a bit of a letdown, certainly compared to Jodhpur's... all touts/vendors and little fort. From the outside it looks fantastic, but the inside is a chaotic sprawl of vendors with little access to the ramparts. No, I don't want a shirt [toilet paper] [necklace] [silkscarf] [internet] [bus ticket] etc etc. There was an Italian eatery inside that had good reviews, and I thought a little pasta would do me good, so in I went. Boy, was I wrong. Within 15 minutes of eating I was hastily beating a retreat to my guesthouse... and got there just in time to re-live the meal I just had. I guess it'll be more tangerines for a while... I might eat a pineapple as well.

If there's anything positive about where I am its that I have a fantastic, large room that even most of you would probably stay in. A very clean bathroom with a flush toilet; tempermental hot water; big, comfy, clean bed with sheets, and a strange little door that I have to bend down to go through, to enter the room. All for $4 CDN/night!

Oh ya, and I'm not giving up on the bike. When your insides are being ripped out of you in both directions the last thing you want to think about is getting on a bicycle, but I love this mode of travel too much to give it up. I'll take a 12-hour sleeper bus straight to Udaipur in a day or two ($10 CDN), recover further there, and hopefully be ready to ride in 3-4 days. I have a lot of solid-food eating to do before my legs will be up for the task. The "plan" is to ride South out of Udaipur, towards Ahmedabad and Mumbai (Bombay). Booyah!

Dec. 21 : Jaisalmer - sick sick sick

2005-12-21T19:03:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, December 21 :: Jaisalmer, India :: 74km today / 747km total

The ankle felt good when i woke up, so I quickly taped it up, packed, and hit the road. It wasn't easy finding the right road out of Jodhpur, but eventually I was heading West, towards Pokaran.

40km into the day I started feeling sick. My stomach was queasy, and I was getting a bit lightheaded. I pushed through to Balesar, 70km in, and took a long stop to rest and drink. Things were not getting better. To make matters worse the town itself was fly-infested, garbage-filled (as usual), and a crowd followed me wherever I went. I sat down in a roadside "cafe" (if it could be called that), and immediately the proprietor produced rice and ghee and some other unknown substance; ground it together with his dirty hands, and encouraged me to dig in. Already feeling like crap, no sum of money could entice me to eat. I weakly smiled and complained that I was feeling sick, which was no lie, and suffered through his eating.

Something was definitely wrong and I wouldn't make it to Pokaran. I walked into one of the garbage piles and tried to make myself throw up, to no avail. I walked over to the bus "stand" and let it be known that I was looking for a bus to Jaisalmer. Soon enough I was underway.

Feeling horrible, I scouted the closest window to me as the bus rolled down the road. I was sitting next to a military man and soon enough I gave him frantic gestures to open the window - fast. I leaned across him, head out the window, and threw up all over the outside of the bus. Not wanting to quality for lead villian in Sleepy Hollow I had to watch the road ahead of me as I was heaving. At 70km/h this resulted in significant backspray all over my face. Ah, India, how do I love thee. Fortunately my bag was at hand so I could clean myself up with a shirt. Could things get any worse? Of course they could, as I threw up 3 more times before getting to Jaisalmer. By the 4th and final time I was an expert... between heaves I would glance forward, then throw up down and back, which kept me relatively clean.

Upon arrival in Jaisalmer I managed to get to a guesthouse. After throwing up again I quickly gathered some juice and tangerines for what I knew would be a long night. And it was quite horrible, but I fought back with antibiotics, Immodium, and water. This morning I'm feeling a bit better and haven't thrown up in about 6 hours.

I have no idea how I got sick - it could be any number of sources. I'm pretty exposed to catching bugs when I'm cycling and I'm starting to wonder if its worth continuing by bike.

Dec. 20 : Jodhpur - Meherangarh Fort

2005-12-20T05:50:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, December 20 :: Jodhpur, India :: 0km today / 673km total

Ah, the muezzin prayer. One of my favourite memories of the Middle East is the 5-times-daily solemn, soothing Islamic prayers being sung through loudspeakers in every city. Well, they do it here in India, too, although I'm not sure what the majority Hindus think about it. South Thailand and Malaysia had the prayers as well, but the grating staccato of their languages (to my ears anyways) diminished my appreciation in those countries. I'm not sure if they're singing in Hindi or Arabic here in India, either way, it sounds great.

One thing I've noticed about the Indians is how athletic they are. Bicycles are a common form of transportation here (well, any form of transportation that you can think of is common here) and the average cyclist that I come across is riding at a decent clip. In other countries that had many cyclists (i.e. Vietnam) people rode very, very slowly, but not here. Often locals will speed up and ride with me for a km or so when I overtake them... pretty impressive when you consider they're riding 1-speed clunkers. I always give them the thumbs up and lots of praise at times like this, which seems to make them quite happy. Also, whenever you see an Indian person out for a jog, they're running along very, very quickly. There are no lolligaggers here!

A late start this morning, as my destination, the Meherangarh Fort, only opened at 9 a.m. The Meherangarh Fort dominates Jodhpur, perched on top of a very high mesa in the centre of the city. On the walk over to it I stopped at the famous Omelette Cafe, and yes the omelettes were cheap and fantastic; several travellers were gathered around, chatting, smiling. The Fort wasn't too hard to get to... like the CN Tower in Toronto or Parthenon in Athens, all you have to do is look up (and know which side the entrance is on) to get to it. Again, making my way upwards through narrow, medieval alleyways, I came to the massive, arched outer gate.

The walk up to the Fort from the town below was a perfect way to get a feel for the sheer size of it. Built in the age of gunpowder and cannon (1600s) and used for 300 years, it was never taken by force even though it had been sieged several times. The walls are ridiculously thick and there are little pockmarks where the cannonballs bounced off. The entrance passageways have sharp right turns and spikes on the doors starting 9 feet from the ground... both anti-elephant charge measures. Things you don't see in Western Castles. There was an excellent, free audio tour of the fort... a fantastic 3 hours.

Leaving the fort I opted for a tuk-tuk, being wary of my right ankle and not wanting to push it. Its been a full-on assault of icing, stretching, massage, Ibuprofen, and tensor bandaging. Not much more I can think of doing for it. After a good but oily chicken kerai lunch, I returned to my hotel for more self-ankle-work. Across from my hotel is a huge, clean-looking Indian sweets store, one of thousands that I've seen here in India. I've actually found one type of sweet that I like, and will experiment with others while here - I never really liked Indian sweets in Canada, but I'm wondering if eating only Indian food (as I have been for a week now) changes the palate's dessert cravings - some sort of symbiotic relationship between the curries and the sweets? Or maybe they're just made better here.

I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring... I'll see how I feel in the morning. My ankle does not hurt and there is little to no sign of Tendonitis (I'm no physiotherapist, so its hard for me to objectively self-examine) - but I'm glad I stopped riding as soon as I felt a twinge. I know the 320-km desert crossing will be very difficult, and I'm cautious about attempting it with a questionable ankle.

Dec. 19 : Jodhpur... and Achilles Tendonitis

2005-12-19T03:05:00.000-08:00

Monday, December 19 :: Jodhpur, India :: 54km today / 673km total

Well, it wouldn't be a bike trip without a little creaking and groaning...

Up early as always, I had to nudge the groggy staff to unlock the sliding gateway so that I could get riding. Out on the road I realized immediately that my saddlesoreness does not seem to be subsiding. Ouch. I could live with it, though. Halfway to Beawar my right Achilles tendon started creaking. Not a good sign. I've had Achilles Tendonitis before, in my racing days, and I know exactly what it feels like, how to treat it, and how long it takes to get better. Fortunately its a "quick-fixer", relative to other injuries, but I would have to be off the bike for a few days and not walk too much. So it turns out that my Achilles Heel is my Achilles Heel, after all. Rolling into Beawar, 53km from where I started, I really had no choice but to stop riding, that is if I didn't want to dig a huge hole for myself and be off the bike for weeks.

Beawar was a less-than-exciting, dirty-as-ever town, and the prospect of a $1.50, 160km bus ride to Jodhpur, a big tourist town with all the promising amenities (including massage), was too enticing. I rolled over to the bus station, changed, and chatted with the locals - Indians are fascinated by the gears on my bike. I grabbed a ticket for the local bus and bungee'd my bike to the roof. After the bus left the station the conductor tried to play hardball with me to get 37 rupees for the bike, but I knew it was a sham (had it been a legitimate charge I would have been told when I bought my ticket - the entire station knew that an English had shown up with a bike). I played hardball back, asking for a receipt with his name written on it, after which he immediately lost interest and wouldn't talk to me for the rest of the trip.

Jodhpur has turned out to be an almost completely vegetarian town, not good for protein-starved me. On top of that there is no massage here (how different than Thailand). Apparently there is expensive massage to be found in the big five-star hotels but I got the feeling they were talking about "massage", not massage. I'm really surprised by the lack of tourists, but then again, India can be hell at times and I wouldn't recommend it to most people, so I shouldn't be surprised at all. I'm loving it, though. Mostly. Overlooking the city is a massive, stunning fortress that I will (gingerly) explore tomorrow. Tonight its lots of stretching, Ibuprofen (how do I love thee), self-ankle-massage, and sleep.

Dec. 18 : Ajmer

2005-12-18T03:52:00.000-08:00

Sunday, December 18 :: Ajmer, India :: 137km today / 619km total

Out on the road just before sunrise, happy to get out of the 2 million+ city of Jaipur and into the countryside. The road was fantastic... flat, 3 lanes in each direction, and a paved shoulder! What more could I ask for. Happily I spun along, waving and chatting with the Indians. When they're not a) driving or b) hanging around a tourist site, Indians are among the friendliest, most gracious people I have ever met.

The cultivated fields on both sides of the road slowly gave way to near-desert as the day progressed. The Rajasthan Desert is ahead, and I will be crossing it in a few days to or from Jaisalmer (I will ride one way from Jodhpur, and take a bus or train the other way). Already the land is quite arid and there are rocky, barren hills on both sides, similar to some areas of Southern California near the Mohave. The wind remained neutral today, more good fortune, and I made short, easy work of the miles.

The food today was fantastic; I had dal and chapati for breakfast, chicken tikka and naan for lunch, and chana masala and rice for dinner. YUM. I am staying away from roadside vendors simply because their cooking and eating areas are beyond dirty. I can't imagine even the locals eating at these places (but they do). Almost every hotel or guesthouse has a restaurant attached, most are very clean and have open, steaming, busy kitchens, so this is what I look for as I pedal down the road.

Even with a 3 lane divided highway the insanity continued; while I was safely tucked away on one side of the road, truckers still managed to mangle themselves into each other, or flip their vehicles over and/or off the road. It really is quite unbelievable how bad these drivers are. Its not purely the driver's fault, though; there are innumberable breakdowns, many quite catastrophic, and I'm sure mechanical failures play a significant part in the accident rate. In only 5 days and 600km+ of road I've seen impossible-looking accidents, things you'd expect to see only in a Hollywood action movie, but here they are, commonplace in India.

In Ajmer I set out on foot to visit a Muslim pilgrimage site (Dargah). My route took me through twisting labyrinthine warrens, passageways too narrow for cars but with the occasional scooter appearing out of nowhere and passing by within inches (but always within inches, never touching). Hopelessly lost, I had to ask for directions numerous times, and the Indians couldn't have been friendlier, even to the point of being appreciative that I was visiting their city, their shrine. Finally it emerged in front of me, a hubbub of pilgrims entering through a large gate. Shoes off, cap on, fully covered of course, in i went barefoot. It was interesting enough, certainly the pilgrims were taking it extremely seriously, and after ditching my "tour guide" I made my way around the back passageways of the shrine so as not to disturb their prayers and meditation.

Leaving Dargah it felt like all hell broke loose... the only white face in Ajmer, the beggars were all over me, hardcore. I should have returned the way I came, through the narrow passageways but like an idiot I took the main route, right through the wide marketplace which was lined with the crippled, helpless, and destitute. What could I do? While I have tremendous empathy and sadness for these people, I cannot solve India's social problems. I just don't sell that much soap. I had to quicken my step and move through as fast as I could. There was no other way.

Jodhpur is 205km away, but I'm not planning on making it tomorrow - only with a galeforce tailwind would I attempt it. Saddlesoreness is keeping my mileage sane, for now.

Dec. 17 : Jaipur

2005-12-17T01:12:00.000-08:00

Friday, December 16 :: Jaipur :: 182km / 482

I was up and on the road very early, before sunrise, with a tough day and aggressive goal ahead of me, 180km with a probable midday headwind. Immediately things were not looking good... a horrible road surface out of Bharatpur that marginally could be called "paved". At times the road was reduced to one lane, that's one lane to be shared by vehicles going in BOTH directions. The traffic was not light, the drivers continued to be idiots, so you can imagine the hell I went through. I spent much time on the gravel shoulder.

Four hours later I rolled into my first waypoint town, very beaten up. It had taken me 4 hours to cover 60km, almost half of my usual speed. Not good when I was hoping to make it 180km to Jaipur. The town was very dirty and unappealing, but I needed to eat. Towards one end of town I spotted a higher-end hotel/enclave and pulled in. One butter chicken and naan bread later (and $9CDN! ridiculous!), I was back on the road. The road surface was decent, but there was no paved shoulder, so again I was playing chicken with oncoming trucks as they passed vehicles in their lane. Now a mild headwind rose, to further keep my spirits up. This day was too much fun.

Dousa sat at the 125km mark, about 2/3 the way to Jaipur. Another dirty, poor, non-descript town; I rolled in at a very late 3pm, sore, tired, and a little grouchy. I checked with a couple of hotels on the main drag, they were asking stupid prices ("hey look who's coming - gora! he looks tired. lets see what we can get him to pay"). So I decided to push it through to Jaipur, damn the consequences.

As I left Dousa a paved shoulder emerged and I could have cried with joy, had I had the energy or spare bodily fluid. But slowly nausea began to emerge; since it wasn't that hot I knew it wasn't heatstroke; it meant I was on the verge of hitting the wall (when you exhaust your body's available carbohydrate stores, it switches over to lesser-energy-giving fat stores, making you feel terrible, vomit, get lightheaded, etc. You also can't eat or drink without throwing it up - a nasty downward spiral). I pulled over and sat for a while, watching the Sun inch down towards the horizon, waiting for my body to churn some energy from itself to avoid crashing out. Back on the bike, with 27km to go, I knew I had to ride steadily to make it before dark - its not easy to ride steadily after a hellish 160km and a sick feeling in your gut. Slowly the km's ticked down, in pace with the sun setting, I was loathe to ride Indian roads at night (early morning isn't so bad, because the traffic is very light).

Five km from town the road turned upwards. My first big hill of the trip, a 3km climb over a pass between two hills. Couldn't have come at a better time. Whoopie. Zombie-like I flicked into my lowest gear and somehow rode up the hill. On top was Jaipur, and nightfall, but the streetlights were functioning so all was good. By 8pm I was in bed, asleep. One of the hardest rides of my life, far harder than Delhi-Agra on Day 1.

Saturday, December 17 :: Jaipur :: 0km / 482

Wow, am I sore. The biggest problem with hitting the Wall, or being on the verge of, is that, without the proper energy to consume, your muscles start to create lactic acid bigtime. Lactic acid hurts. I'm feeling it today. Stiffly I rose at 5:30 a.m., well in advance of any other staff or guests, thats the schedule I'm on. After stretching, clothes-washing, showering, and breakfast I stepped out of the guesthouse to explore Jaipur. I hit the historical sights, nothing really remarkable but interesting enough for half a day. I almost didn't make it up the 50 metre high minaret at the centre of town - my quads are aching that badly.

Today was my first day of being set upon by the touts, and it was pretty bad. Single guy, no tour group, walking kinda slow and stiffly - perfect target. I said "no thank you" at least 400 times, probably more. It got a bit grating, my replies became more terse, but always in the back of my mind is the understanding that these people need the 1/10/100/1000 rupees in my wallet far more than I do. I'm not sure I would enjoy backpacking through India - to be harassed at bus/train stations, to be at the mercy of the rickshaw/taxi drivers - as well as at the tourist sites, like today - it would certainly dampen the experience. Because of the bike, I only really have to deal with touts in tourist areas.

I went to an Indian movie in the afternoon at, apparently, the pre-eminent movie theatre in all of India - and yes, the theatre was awesome. The movie, however... well, we all have our preferences. The night will be spent eating, and hopefully tomorrow I will set out for Ajmer & Pushkar.

Dec. 17: pics

2005-12-17T00:57:00.000-08:00

What I'm looking at much of the time

Jaipur

The bike

Jaipur

Jaipur

Jaipur

Dec. 15 : Taj Mahal and onwards

2005-12-15T02:35:00.000-08:00

Thursday, December 15 :: Bharatpur, India :: 70km / 300 total

Up very early to see the Taj Mahal. I had to "break out" of the guesthouse compound (the staff were asleep) using the flash on my cellphone to navigate through the bushes and over the fence. It was very cold, I could see my breath, maybe around 6C. At 6 a.m. the gates for the Taj opened, and in I went. There couldn't have been more than 5 other tourists there this early, since the Sun had not risen yet and the tour bus drivers are grouchy in the morning. The touts were also asleep, only 1 or 2 to have to politely decline.

But the Taj was there, emerging through the mist and half-light. The most beautiful manmade sight I've ever seen (and I've seen more than a few of the famous ones). I honestly couldn't believe it and was caught completely unaware. Now, I'm not one to be moved by... much... (as you all know), but I was swept away. Really, I hadn't been looking forward to seeing the Taj that much - all the corny pictures that you see of it, all the touts, and the general dirtiness of India had dulled my anticipation. I sat at the classic viewing spot, looking straight down/over the long and narrow reflecting pool, just staring at it. It is perfect. There is no other way I can describe it.

I wandered through the grounds, up to and inside the Taj itself, as it slowly came to light. It was quiet, there were no voices, only the faint background din of a city slowly coming to life. Other than a few silent shadowy security guards and staff, I was the only one on and around the Taj. A magical half hour, just me and this incredible work of architecture. Unbelievable. I had woken up bracing myself for touts and hassle, what I got was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

By the time the Sun was lighting up the tops of nearby buildings, around 7 a.m., the surreal spell was over. Walking away from the Taj back along the pool I was faced with hordes of tourists, talking loudly, clicking their cameras, flashes everywhere, disturbing the peace, serenity, and sorrow that makes the Taj what it is. But they missed it. They were too late. The Taj is not about a picture in a photo album, Look Where I Was. It'll have to be my (and your) little secret. If you ever go to India, do NOT miss the Taj Mahal, enter at 6 a.m. because by 7 its gone.

After some great food I rode out into the maelstrom of urban India. Agra is a city of 600,000 and I think they were all travelling the same route out of town that I was today. 15km into my ride the city disappeared, thankfully, and rural India was there to greet me. A beautiful road, less-insane traffic (I only had to ride myself off the road once), clean air. I rode to a nearby World Heritage Site, Fatepuri Sikri, but there wasn't much of the ancient buildings left, and I was still reeling from the Taj, so I didn't hang around for long. Finally to Bharatpur, in the State of Rajasthan, my home State for the next 1-2 weeks. Nothing of much interest here, but I stopped early to eat eat eat and get ready for a long 180km to Jaipur tomorrow - I'll likely have a headwind, so may not make it all the way. Today I've had GREAT food, including a dal makhani that is among the best Indian food I've ever had. Hmmm I think another plate of that will do just nicely, tonight.

Dec. 14 : To the Taj Mahal

2005-12-09T22:18:00.000-08:00

The Flights

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

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

Wednesday, December 14 Agra, India 230km

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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