INDIA - I'll Never Do It Again

Ok then,

Sorry for not updating in a while, I've been trying to enjoy my time in India. It's not an easy thing to do. This may be a long update...

I left the relitive calm of Rishikesh to travel down to Delhi to meet my parents. The roads were as chaotic as usual so not much to report there. Delhi is a bit of a nightmare. There's a lot of traffic and road rules just don't apply. I was waiting calmly in a jam when I noticed people start to drive their cars down the segregated cycle lane at the side of the road, so I joined them. In a country with 1.5 billion people in, you have to do whatever is necessary to get ahead. This possibly explains why Indians are so arrogant. It also goes some way to explaining how they drive and why they need to overtake whatever is in front without thinking about it.

In Delhi, after meeting 'the rents', we went to have a look at the most impressive sight in the capitol city, the Red Fort. Typically, it was closed. Someone had possibly tipped them off that 'the Cartwrights are on tour'. A wander round the Old City confirmed to my Mother how horrible this place is, since it all smelt of wee. Even in the relatively posh part of town, Conaught Place, men quite happily just wizzed wherever they pleased. Together with cricket, this seems to be a national past time. Spitting is also a rather popular hobby.

The plan was to get to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. How was to be decided. My Dad wanted to travel in style in a Raj era Ambassador car. Sadly it appears that they have all been converted to CNG and thus have a range of about 20 miles.

After getting a quote from a travel agent of about 6000 Rupees for the job, we approached a random Sikh in the street. (He wasn't truly random, he was stood next to an Ambassador car)

'Can you take us to Agra?' I asked. He nodded his head in a sideways manner that in India can mean anything from 'Yes', 'No', 'Maybe', 'I Don't know' or 'Thankyou'. In fact you could probably get away with travelling around India and not even uttering a word. A nod will do. Sometimes it's like having a conversation with someone with Parkinsons disease.

After much questioning and nodding, we discovered that a driver to Agra for 'dropping dropping' would be 7 Rupees per km. This seemed a bit cheap considering it was 200km or so. After further phone calls the price of 2500 was settled on. I was rather dubious that after paying him 200Rp advance whether he would actually turn up the next morning, but someone indeed did.

I rode down to Agra whilst my parents took the car. Surprisingly it was dual carriageway for most of the way meaning that I could cruise at 80kph. Towns and cities were still as mental as ever when the road inevitably went right through them.

Upon arrival in Agra I tried to make my way to the Eastern gate where the hotel was. It turns out that vehicles aren't allowed within 500m of the Taj because of concerns over emissions damaging the stone. I turned up at the Western gate and was greeted by armed guards who turned me away. I made my way through the chaotic traffic to the Southern gate where once again I was turned away despite arguing that I could actually see my hotel 200m away and that local motorcyclists could quite happily ride through with no problems.

I turned away, determined not to have to face the suicidal traffic again, and decided to try my luck down a nearby alley. I managed to somehow manouevre through the narrow streets and ended up behind the barrier for the Eastern gate. The guards panicked and ran to tell me that I wasn't allowed there.

We visited the Taj Mahal the next day after battling our way through the touts. In an effort to avoid their constant hassling I decided to wear my Shalwar Kameez from Pakistan in order to look like a menacing Taliban Terrorist. It sort of worked. The Taj is well worth visiting, despite being filled with throngs of Indians.

The plan was then to travel seperately up to the Corbett Tiger Reserve. I knew that with the state of the traffic on the roads I wouldn't be able to make it in one day so halfway decided to camp in a field. I desperately wanted to avoid the crowds which encircle me whenever I stop for anything so carefully chose a spot in a remote cane field which was hidden from the road and surrounded on 3 sides. After setting up my tent and tinkering with the bike I heard some rustling in some nearby bushes. I heard voices and soon after 3 Indian lads emerged and wandered over. They stood exactly 2 meters away from me and stared whilst I finished tinkering as it started to rain. They were well dressed so I guessed they didn't work in the fields in the middle of nowhere that meant that they must have seen me depart from the road and purposefully come looking for me.... bastards!

Thankfully it started raining more heavily so I crawled into my tent and left them to wander home.

The next morning I awoke at sunrise, 6:30am to hear voices. The bastards had told their mates. As soon as I got out the tent I was surrounded by a crowd of over 10 who just stared and chatted amongst themselves whislt I packed away my things. It was honestly the worst start to a day that anyone could possibly imagine. I could not believe that they would think that the first thing that I would want first thing in the morning is to be surrounded by snorting and spitting Indians. The inhabitants of this country were seriously starting to irritate me.

The first thing I see upon waking up.

I stopped to eat some bananas for breakfast at a small stall at the side of the road. Once I had bought two I was surrounded by a crowd of 30. After eating said bananas in record time I was surrounded by a crowd of 50. All they do is stare but it is quite intimidating on my own. If I had stayed 30 seconds longer I would have blocked the road.

I arrived at the hotel next to the Corbett Reserve later that morning. As soon as I arrived my bike short circuited somewhere and the alarm started going off meaning that I had to spend 30 mintutes trying to fix it in the rain.

The next morning we were up bright an early to take a 4 hour elephant ride through the jungle in search of tigers and other wildlife. As we set off in the soft dawn light two monkeys were fornicating on top of a nearby building. Sadly I missed trying to take a photo of this atmospheric moment.

The hotels resident elephant, Laxmi, trundled as elegantly as an elephant laden with 3 Cartwrights can through the jungle and we were treated to glimpses of wild deer, various birds, huge spiders and tiger footprints, but no tigers. I took some fantastic blurred photos, the success of which has prompted me to buy a decent digital SLR in Thailand.
The elephant ride was truly fantastic and definately one of the few highlights of India.

The next day we organised to be taken deep into the reserve to a jungle lodge called Dhikala. Since it was the first day of official opening for tourists and the Indians do love their paperwork, it took our guides half the day just to get a permit.

We rode into the reserve on an open top jeep, painted in camoflaged tiger stripes to confuse the animals and other tourists. We saw 3 species of deer, 2 species of monkeys and wild boar. Halfway to the rest house our driver screeched to a halt and the guide pointed deep into the jungle, 'Look, over there, Indian Eagle Owls!' We squinted through the foliage and could just make out two blobs sat in a tree about 200 metres from the road.
The next day when coming back we stopped in the same place and the guide pointed out the same owls in the same position. This time he called them 'Fish Owls'. We were suspicious on two counts, firstly because we suspected that they were stuffed and nailed to that branch, and secondly because he had called thems something different. We thought he was just making names up as he went along.

Upon arrival at the lodge, which was reminisant of Jurrassic Park since it was surrounded by an electric fence, we filled in yet more paperwork which you have to do upon arrival at any hotel in India detailing everything about you, and were shown to our room. It had a fantastic view across some grasslands but as it was going dark there was little to be seen apart from monkeys running around and a porcupine which we saw sneaking to the toilet later that night.

The next morning we were up before dawn to go out tiger hunting. The mist made things even more exciting as we strained to see. It was not long before we found some fresh tracks but following sadly didn't prove fruitful. It was still a fantastic experience and we could add numerous birds to our wildlife tally.

When we got back to the lodge for breakfast there were 3 herds of wild elephants on the grasslands in front of us, a fantastic sight.

We set off again for another wildlife hunt and to make our way back to the hotel. Everytime we stopped the director of the park appeared nearby meaning that I had to act innnocent and hide the out of date biscuits that I had been throwing to the monkeys.

We stopped at an point overlooking a river, and once again the director was there. He pointed out to us a crocodile about 800metres down river basking on the bank. Once again it was little more than a blob even through binoculars. Later we saw a family of Ghareal (sp?), freshwater crocodiles with knobs on their noses indiginous to India, the largest of which was easily 3-4 metres in length.

Later in the afternoon, as we were setting off back, I was getting frustrated that I had not seen a tiger and was especially on edge, straining my eyes through the foliage to catch a glimpse of anything tiger shaped. As we rounded a bend I spotted something through the grass. 'Look!' I shouted. We skidded to a halt and the driver turned off the engine. We sat there in silence for 5 minutes whilst I felt rather sheepish at having spotted a log.

The closest we came to seeing tigers were the stuffed ones on display at the museum at the entrance to the park. I bought a couple of small stuffed tigers to stick on the front of the bike as mascots to scare off Indians and trucks.

A couple of days later and it was time for me to head off to Nepal whilst my parents went South to Kerala to lounge on the beach. On the way to the border a truck decided to overtake another coming towards me. I braked hard but had no where to go since I was already practically in the gutter. It missed me, just, but I had to get so far over to the verge that I clipped my pannier on a concrete bollard. My box was ripped off and I wobbled to a halt. This was the final straw for India. The c*nt had caused my frame to crack and I had to hold my pannier on with tie wraps. The w*nk*r didn't even stop. It was a good job since if he had I was quite prepared to beat him to death and I would have enjoyed it.

The border was the most unorganised ridiculous one I had come across. After crossing a dam and winding down an unpaved dirt track I went through a small cluster of houses and ended up at a barrier. I looked around. A man approached and asked if I had been through immigration or customs. I asked where they were. He pointed to a house. There were lots of people passing across but no one seemed to stop. Inside I had to fill in the usual paperwork and decided to list my occupation as 'International Man of Mystery'. Sadly it didn't fit so I had to make do with 'International Agent'. When questioned as to what job this was I replied that I sold computers worldwide. This made the official happy. It also gave me something to giggle at as I continued across the border and down a very bumpy dirt track to the Nepalese side.

I arrived at another barrier in the middle of a village. When I asked where immigration and customs were I was pointed to a green house. Inside I filled in another small sheet of paper and paid $40USD for my visa. At customs they didn't have a clue what to do with my Carnet so I had to explain how it worked and make sure they stamped the right parts.

That night I stopped in a hotel just across the border and, feeling rather miserable, attempted to repair the damage to my bike, but I had at least left India behind and the people here were more relaxed.

I set off at dawn the next day to get as far as possible to my desired destination of Nepalganj, about 200km away. It was a very relaxing ride through the morning mist. To my right the lowlands stretched away to infinity, to my left the Himalayas rose abrubtly and stretched away from East to West like a giant impenetrable wall. The road was fantastic with only the occasional bus. The local population didnt have cars, they got around using only small motorbikes and bicycles. By 10am I had reached my intended destination and decided to push on. I managed to do over 400km that day on some of the most fantastic roads I had ridden in a seemingly long time. Although bumpy tarmac, the road was perfect all the way with lots of fun twisty bits through the jungle.

I stopped in Butwal that night and when I pulled up at a hotel fell off the bike. My luggage frame gave way completely and I was unable to kick start the bike (my starter motor seems to have died completely just before I left India) Dejected I pushed the bike into the carpark, got a room and set to work trying to repair the damage using a cunningly placed banjo strap. Feeling miserable once again, and managing to have parked outside a rotary club meeting where I was surrounded by a crowd, for a change, I went in search of crisps and sugar to make me feel better. I found a shop and bought some lays and a pepsi. When I got back to my room I decided not to drink the cola since it smelt of wee. Although it was one of the things I was trying to escape from, I miss having a regular routine and security in my life. Some times all I can look forwards to is crawling into my sleeping bag and munching on a packet of biscuits.

I set off the next morning to make it the final 250km to Kathmandu, the end of the road, from where I would have to fly to Bangkok to avoid Burma. The last 50km were on rubbish roads with lots of trucks and busses. Traffic was again a bit mental in the city but I found a guesthouse who have given me a dingy room for 500Rs a night (£4).

I sat in the the corner of the garden on my own, surrounded by western tourists, and drank a beer in celebration. I got some funny disapproving looks.

I went out wandering round the city and am glad to be in civilisation again. I found a supermarket that sells everything and a restaurant where I had a steak with a ham and mushroom sauce. Hopefully they will have bacon here, I've had dreams of bacon butties.

Now I need to find a cargo agent to ship my bike to Bangkok. I have a couple of leads from people who have already done it. I decided to go into a Fed-Ex office and enquired whether they could ship motorbikes. They started in disbelief at me and called the manager who said that he would have to make enquiries.

I stopped at another cargo agent who seemed more concerned about giving me a speech saying that he wanted to do 'long time business' with me. Eventually after continuously asking I got a quote of about $900 which I had to work out myself.

I now need to find 'Eagle Eyes Cargo' who shipped a guys bike for $800 2 months ago with excellent service. I may also try to find some bacon. Hopefully when I next write I shall be in Bangkok.

Adiós.