We set of late, about 10am, thinking that it would only be a couple of hours riding to Jiri, touted by Wikipedia (I don't have a guidebook for Nepal and Wiki got me through University) as 'the traditional starting point for the trek to Everest'.
The traffic trying to escape from Kathmandu was pretty busy. The roads in the city are not too good. There are plans to build a 6 lane ring road. Eventually we found the main road going out of the city and pretty soon we were happily winding out way through the countryside on good tarmac. We both needed petrol pretty soonish, since before we fly the bikes we need to drain the tanks, hence had run the tanks dry on the way to Kathmandu.
The road eventually got smaller and smaller and turned into a dirt track going up a mountain. 'This is a funny main road' I thought. The only other traffic were a few other bikes. I was thoroughly surprised at Carlos' bike being able to make it since it's predominantly a road bike with a dual sports rear tyre and road front and weighs probably not far from 300kg fully loaded, but he did well.
We stopped for a coke and had a fantastic view of snowcapped mountains on the horizon. Local folk informed us that a nearby town had petrol so we optimistically set off. Upon arrival we were pointed to the convenience store for the entire village who did indeed have petrol. It cost twice the normal rate and was available in 1 litre water bottles. I bought 1 litre and Carlos 2 to see us down the mountain and to a petrol station, which we eventually found after discovering the tarmacked main road. We had fantastic fun overtaking all the small bikes on some great twisties.
We set off once again on fantastic roads towards Jiri. The road was small but mostly in very good condition with very little traffic. It wound alongside mountains and through small villages for 100km all the time offering fantastic views of the Himalayas.
We arrived shortly after dark in Jiri, mainly because I had sustained a puncture on my front tyre, which I changed under the watchful eyes of 10 local Nepalis. One young lad was amazed that I carried a piece of wood with me to knock out the front axle.
We stayed in a hotel where I had buffalo chow mien for tea and debated what to do the next morning. It turned out, after speaking to a local guide who was determined to show us the local cheese factory, that just to see Everest involved a 2 1/2 day trek. Since we only had 1 day, this wasn't possible, so a shorter trek would have been better.
The next morning at breakfast we were still undecided. I casually mentioned that it would be nice to go the Chinese border. Carlos said 'let's do it', so we did.
As we were preparing to leave a crowd gathered to see us off and the hotel manager festooned us with a scarves around our necks for good luck. The first thing I though was 'ooh, this will make a nice oil rag!', but I don't think the gods would like that so i'll try to avoid it.
We set off back the way we had come and I managed to acquire a nice big nail in my rear tyre, the first puncture in my rear so far. We stopped next to a couple of shops, conveniently located at the top of a 2600m pass where I set to work.
This time I was supervised by a lone girl, everyone else ignored us. I think they were used to people fixing their bikes there, or maybe they were just too engrossed in their card games.
I also discovered that yet another bolt had sheared and gone missing, this time it was one that secured my rear sub-frame to my main frame. At the last count I think I now have 3 out of 4 bolts holding the rear sub-frame on with 4 out of 6 bolts and a banjo strap holding my luggage rack on. One pannier is also secured using 2 tie wraps. I plan to get everything welded and sorted in Bangkok and may also ditch the hard luggage and go soft, although after seeing what is on offer from dirtshopthailand.com I may spend a lot of money on decent quality kit there rather than using the Pakistani custom made aluminium 'Poor-atech' panniers I had constructed. I repaired this breakage with the cunning use of yet another banjo strap.
The road to the border was also fantastic, with a few rough bits. Children waved at us as we wound our way through villages. At the border we rode straight through a gate and parked the bikes with the intention of trying to get across to China (Tibet) for an hour or so, just to say we had. After wandering round the various unorganised offices for a bit I was informed that you can go straight to the border, the friendship bridge, where there is a strategically drawn red line in the middle. You can walk up to the line, look at it and gawp at the other side, but not take photos. We would not be allowed into China since we did not have visas. I went and had a look whilst Carlos looked after the bikes. The last guard on the bridge was rather concerned as to why my hands were so dirty, so I explained that I had a KTM and he let me through.
I wandered up to the the red line. On the far side of the bridge Chinese soldiers stood smartly at attention dressed in immaculate uniforms. On the Nepali side the un-organised soldiers attempted to control a crowd of Nepali day trippers with their Chinese purchases. I returned to Carlos to let him have a gander. When he returned he said that he had sneakily gone over the red line to spend 'Seven Seconds In Tibet'. I considered returning to do the same but we decided to push on back the 100km to Kathmandu before it got dark. Besides, if I had crossed the border I would have had to add another patch to the back of my jacket, for which there is barely room for the remaining countries. I would also cause controversy by having to decide on whether to put a Tibetan flag or a Chinese or both. They also may have decided to shoot me for looking scruffy. I'll save China (Tibet) for another adventure.
A Sneaky Picture: Yes, that's China behind me!We returned along the same fantastic roads to Kathmandu where we once again hit horrible roads and lots of traffic in the dark. About 1km from Thamel, where all the tourist hotels are, Carlos ran out of petrol, since we were once again trying to leave ourselves with the minimal amount for flying, so I syphoned some of mine amongst an inquisitive crowd. Now I have no petrol left.
We now await Marc's return so that we can crate the bikes tomorrow. I'm trying very hard not to spend much money here on the good food, beer and gadgets for sale in the shops. I shall wait till Thailand although I did buy a big Gurkha hunting knife which might have been useful in India and Carlos managed to negotiate a price for a small children's' horn from a cycle rickshaw for his bike which I want also.
Move out of my way trucks!
I will leave you with a photo of a cow with 6 legs and 2 bum holes which they paraded through the streets of Kathmandu as part of a holy procession. Rump steak anyone?
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