2 Up Adventures

Tuesday 20th Oct. 460km or so.

Up at 04:15am, departing the Hotel Rajdarbar in Siliguri for the last time, bound for Guwahati, 460km to the east. Guwahati is roughly halfway between Siliguri and Moreh, the Indian border town we need to be at in seven days time so we can cross into Tamu, Myanmar the following day, and whilst we had looked for an interim destination halfway or so between Siliguri and Guwahati to shorten the ride distance we couldn’t find any accommodation online, so the only real choice was to suck things up and go for the big day.

Our route took us north initially, retracing the start of our ride to Sikkim and passing through the military base on the outskirts of Siliguri before entering the forest. Rain started to fall at the edge of the town and the road surface glistened with wet oil – not an inviting look but at least the traffic was light in the early morning. We entered the forest section with Aad in the lead and Mike in front of us, and it was a surreal view to watch their bikes riding through the mist and drizzle as the sun rose up with an orange glow.

We picked up Highway 31 heading east, a roller coaster ride that bounced up and down and swerved around the river it followed, with monkeys sitting on the rock wall at the edge of the road. The road eventually straightened up and the trees gave way to tea plantations, blanketed in shrouds of morning mist. Tea pickers were walking along the road side on their way to work.

We pushed on for a hundred kilometres then stopped at a little village to have a drink and a bite. Karen and I had some bottled water with us and some biscuits wed bought a few days earlier so we munched on some of those, Aad and Mike bought some potato crisps and mango juice from a little shop. A recording of a girl singing or chanting was being broadcast over speakers attached to power poles along the main street we’d stopped on. It had taken us about two hours to get this far. Karen was cold in the early morning chill so she dug out her removable jacket panels and reattached those, and borrowed my old gloves to keep her hands warm as she still hasn’t been able to buy a new pair of gloves after losing a glove in Pakistan.

There was little traffic on the road as we continued east. We passed by one nature reserve that had a big statue of a rhino out the front, and a short while later entered a tiger reserve, but other than lazy cows munching on grass by the side of the road and goats wandering around we didn’t see any animals.

At some point the road doubled in lanes, from two to four, with a wide median strip running down the middle and used by the locals to graze their calves on, and it’s at this point the riding became quite nuts – or possibly just normal by Indian standards. The concrete road surface was broken up in many places, and often traffic was directed across a little track and onto the opposite side of the road, bypassing the more serious bits of broken road. Diverted traffic didn’t always return to its correct side after a detour was discontinued however, and often we had oncoming traffic on our side of the road, which was quite unnerving at times. Easily – about 10% of the oncoming traffic that passed us today was our side of the road, often in our lane, and you needed to be constantly on the lookout for these vehicles.

In some places no diversion had been created and we then had to start off-roading across the rocky and dusty remains of the old road. Potholes and water and mud all added to the excitement but at the same time these obstacles also kept our average speed down as we couldn’t settle into a steady pace for long without having to brake for another section of crappy road.

Around lunchtime we pulled alongside Mike and gestured to him that we needed a drink break, and he radioed to Aad ahead, who quickly pulled off the road and stopped at a little dharba he’d just spotted. We looked in the simple kitchen in the back and there was a small, old lady there cooking some vegetable dishes – potatoes and dahl- and roti, so we ordered four serves, and sat on the wooden-planked table-cum-daybed and eagerly ate our simple but tasty and filling lunch. As we mopped up the last of our dahl we saw Emiel and Claire drive by in their Landcruiser, but they didn’t stop. Our lunch stop was about 140km out of Guwahati, and was the last stop of our ride in.

We passed the turnoff to Manas National Park. Roshni, the young lady we had met at the Darjeerling Zoo a couple of days earlier had suggested that we visit this World Heritage-listed park if we had the time, but last night when we googled accommodation and entrance/activity fees at the park we were put off by the approx AU$450 it would have cost us for two nights accommodation plus a safari in a jeep, so we scrubbed this from our wish-list.

Turning south towards Guwahati the roadside started to show more signs of urban build-up, and then we were on a very long bridge crossing the Brahmaputra before entering the traffic chaos of our destination. I hadn’t put the coordinates of our hotel into the GPS so I was sticking to Mike like a magnet, and whilst that worked out well we managed to lose Aad at one stage as he’d got ahead of us, but then rode out of intercom-range with Mike and took a wrong turn. Mike and I returned to where we had last seen Aad, and about ten minutes later Aad showed up, which was great as he didn’t have the address of the hotel on him.

Arriving at the Hotel Prince B a few minutes later we found the staff there reneging on their permission to have us park our motorcycles inside the hotel lobby, and with a small crowd milling around the bikes where they were parked just off the street we remounted and headed to another hotel that offered proper secure parking. For an additional 1,000 INR a night ($20) it’s cheap insurance, and the rooms here at the Hotel Green Valley are nicer than Prince B, according to Aad.

After a long but successful day we were glad to shower, and then go down stairs for an early dinner of vegetable pakora and egg chow mien. Tomorrow the plan is to ride the 100km or so south to Shillong, and then spend a couple of evenings there before heading out to the border.

We’ve been in India for five weeks now and have seen some amazing things. With just one week left we’ll fit in some more sightseeing, and also about 500km – 1,000km more riding. Chatting with Aad, Mike and Emiel last night I think everyone is in the same frame of mind – we’re all ready to leave India, and the challenge is to finish what remains of our time in this country without any accidents. The driving here is absolutely manic. Either there are no road rules here, or no one gives a f@ck about them as they all drive like madmen, ignorant of the risks they present to themselves and others. Fingers crossed hey!!!

Monday 19th October. 80km.

The plan today was to take the scenic road – SH12 through Mirik – back to Siliguri. This is the road that Aad & Mike and Emiel & Claire had taken up to Darjeeling a couple of days earlier, whilst Karen and I had taken the main road – NH110 – up from Siliguri.

Our alarm was set for 06:30am, but we were awoken at 05:30am by the sound of singing and music outside. I went out onto the balcony and saw a street march below – maybe a hundred ladies walking up the road, accompanied by some men playing tambourines. The informal marching group came up the road, turned around almost directly beneath us and then walked down the road again, continuing their sing-song chant.

Looking up I could see the snow-capped peaks of the mountains in the distance, blazing orange in the first rays of the rising sun. The view was magical.

With our bike parked next door at the Phay Soul Hotel, Karen and I packed our gear and then went downstairs to a lacklustre breakfast of salad sandwiches and instant coffee before we went to fetch the bike. The track from the Phay Soul down to the main road below – Hill Cart Road – was very steep and slippery in the muddy section just before it crossed the narrow gauge railway, and a monk walking down the track behind me grabbed the top box rail and helped steady the bike as I negotiated the slippery railway tracks.

Loading the bike out the front of the Hotel Bloomfield proved to be another challenge, as the bike was almost vertical, threatening to topple over as the hotel staff raced each other to help load the soft bags and other gear. It took longer to load with their help then it usually takes Karen and myself alone, but they were pleased with their contribution, and they gave us a big wave as we rode away into the early morning traffic.

A few km south we turned off the main road and started our descent towards Mirik. There was some light traffic in the urbanised area, but when the houses fell away and we entered the forest we had the twisty road to ourselves. Aad and Mike had picked us up just before we peeled off towards Mirik, and we followed them along the misty mountain ridge.

The road was a riders delight, passing through forested areas, tea plantations and quaint little villages festooned with colourfully-painted houses. The road itself was sealed, and full of twists and turns and enough hairpin bends to keep us on our toes. The early morning mist had cleared and we were treated to some beautiful views of the valleys below and the distant mountains.

Mid-morning Karen and I stopped at a little tea shop to sample some local tea, but a jeep full of 8 or 10 guys pulled up as well just a minute or so later and they all started jostling around the bike with their selfie-snapping cameras, and as we just wanted some peace and quiet we just climbed back on the bike and rode away.

We rode through Mirik and continued the scenic descent down the mountain. We passed by some tea pickers hard at work and I stopped the bike so Karen could get some photos.

We arrived back in Siliguri, back at the Hotel Rajdarbar, about midday, ahead of Aad and Mike – which surprised both us and them as they were ahead of us on the road and we hadn’t passed them, but when we saw them almost an hour later we figured out that in Mirik we’d taken a different turn through the town, and so had managed to slip ahead of them.

We unloaded the bike and as we sat with Aad & Mike in the restaurant discussing the ride down the hill Emiel and Claire arrived in their Landcruiser. Emiel was almost boiling – pushed to the edge by the stupid drivers he’d encountered on the road – whilst it’s probably more dangerous riding a motorcycle than driving a big 4×4 here in India at least on the bike we are more nimble and can squeeze through gaps to get ahead in heavy traffic.

It has taken us about three hours to ride 80km, but today has been the most scenic and enjoyable riding in India I’ve experienced on this ride. Thumbs up for the scenic road from Darjeeling to Siliguri!

18th October. Zero km.

I woke up feeling a bit second-hand this morning, so Karen slipped next door and told our travelling companions that we wouldn’t be joining them on their early morning visit to the Happy Valley Tea Estate for a tour, whilst I had a sleep-in til about midday.

With the help of a local guy we rustled up a taxi jeep from out the front of the new restaurant just a bit down the hill from our hotel, and went on a crazy but fun drive along the ridge right through the centre of Darjeeling until we popped out on the northern side, where our driver dropped us out the front of the Darjeeling Zoo.

We spent a fascinating three hours or so wandering through the zoo, which included a walk through the museum of the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute (HMI) which was established by Prime Minister Nehru in 1954 to facilitate the development of mountaineering as a sport in India, following the first ascent of Mount Everest a year earlier.

The first animal we saw at the zoo was a big Asiatic black bear, sprawled out on a wooden deck in his enclosure and casually licking his lips with his big tongue. We walked up the hill, passing by various deers, two huge yaks (males can grow to weigh up to 1,000kg), and a jackal. We also passed by the lower sections of the leopard enclosures but couldn’t see these animals – fortunately we got to see them later through the day when we walked back along the top sections and saw these graceful animals from that side.

Just short of the entrance to the HMI we stopped at a little zoo cafe for an ice cream, and started chatting with an Indian gentleman – Rupam – and his daughter Roshni. Roshni is completing two masters at a local university, and Rupam had travelled from his home town of Guwahati to visit Roshni during the university holidays. We had a lovely chat with these friendly people, and were invited to catch up with them in Guwahati, as when we explained that we are travelling towards Myanmar Rupam pointed out that we would be passing through his town.

We had a great time looking through the HMI museum – completely unrelated to the zoo other than sharing the grounds – but a hidden treasure and full of I testing exhibits and information, much relating to the 1953 ascent of Mount Everest, including newspaper articles that covered the achievement in glowing terms, and climbing equipment used by Tenzing Norgay. We kept on bumping into Rupim and Roshni as we wandered through the museum – quite funny little coincidences that made us laugh every time.

Back out into the fresh air and down the hill a bit into the zoo grounds, we saw the leopards that had previously evaded us – a common leopard, a clouded leopard, a snow leopard and a sleek black leopard, like Bagheera out of Kipling’s “Jungle Book”.

We also saw a massive Bengal tiger strolling around his enclosure, pacing up and down, his muscles rippling under his shiny coat. He certainly looked like he was fit to be the king of any jungle.

In the bird sanctuary the most impressive bird I saw was the Golden Pheasant – ten male of the species sporting a head of golden feathers that made him look like he was wearing a gold crown.

We walked down the hill and came across the red panda enclosures. Karen explained that the Darjeeling Zoo was the first zoo to successfully breed red panda babies in captivity and then release them into the wild. There were three enclosures for the red pandas, and we were fortunate enough to see the pandas – and quite active they were too – stripping bamboo leaves from the branches laid out on wooden decks in their enclosures, or scurrying along the wooden poles and up and down the trees.

After seeing the last of the animals, including some snakes in the snake house, some monkeys, and a lazy oris rolled up into a furry ball, we left the zoo just on closing time, and caught a small taxi back to our hotel, scooping up Aad & Mike and Emiel & Claire as we saw them trudging along the road after a long day of walking. We all managed to squeeze into the minibus but Karen was wedged into the floor of the back seat. Claire explained to Karen that here in Darjeeling you cannot buy Darjeeling tea as 100% of it is exported overseas.

We had a nice relaxing afternoon on the simple deck of the hotel, overlooking Darjeeling as it clung to the mountainside, and we could look straight down on the train tracks. The steam train passed by as we had our Coke and potato chips, blowing ash and soot over us as it climbed up the hill.

We had all had a great day out, but Darjeeling hadn’t quite what we had expected – certainly not as far as accommodation had been concerned – so instead of staying here for four nights as originally planned, tonight will be our second and last night here and tomorrow we will return to Siliguri.

17th October. 60km.

Short ride today for us – 60km via the main road from Siliguri to Darjeeling, with the aim of spending four nights in Darjeeling chilling out. The rest of our motley crew – Aad & Mike on their bikes and Emiel & Claire in their old Landcruiser had opted to take the longer, scenic road up to Darjeeling, but Karen and I were still tired from our long ride to Sikkim and back, and we were happy to aim for a short ride today.

After battling our way through the morning traffic in Siliguri we passed through a few villages on the outskirts of the city, before entering a tea plantation that ran right up to the foothills to the north of us. We paid our ten rupee fee (return trip) to go up the mountain, and then started the steep and twisty climb, complete with lots of hairpin bends and crazy oncoming drivers. Earlier in Siliguri we had seen a lot of Matahandra jeeps parked on the roadside looking for customers – this morning I think all of these jeeps were now either climbing up or down the mountain.

Near the crest of the mountain we picked up the narrow gauge railway of the Darjeeling train, the tracks criss-crossing the road repeatedly. The road narrowed down to only one lane in many spots, and policemen with whistles controlled the flow of traffic in many of these bottlenecks.

We reached the position given on the GPS of our intended destination – the Hotel Bloomfield – but it wasn’t there so we continued north along the main road – the quaintly named ‘Hill Cart Road’ for a few km before we spotted the hotel. Our alarm bells started ringing immediately as we could see no secure parking for the bikes as had been advertised, and when Karen spoke to the hotel staff our concerns were confirmed, as they tried to suggest we could just park on the street out the front of the hotel.

Karen railed at this suggestion, and the hotel staff went into a huddle for ten minutes before they came back with their next suggestion – leave the bikes out the front during daytime, and then move them into the mechanics workshop adjacent to the hotel at night. We weren’t too thrilled at this suggestion but was better than nothing so we unpacked the bike and checked into the hotel before going across the road to a brand-new restaurant that had just opened up two days earlier.

Just as I was finishing my chicken curry and roti lunch we saw Emiel & Claire pull up outside, with Aad just behind them. They had already been to the Hotel Bloomfield, heard about the poor parking arrangement and rejected that out-of-hand, in favour of cheaper rooms at the hotel next door (but higher up the hillside, up from the main road and railway track below) that offered very secure parking.

We moved our bike from the street front up to the hotel where the other guys were staying – already Karen had to chase away some guys who had parked their car right up close to the bike and had started to remove the cover we’d placed over it.

For dinner the six of us returned to the new restaurant across the road and had a simple chow mien dish each. After dinner we said goodnight to our travelling companions and returned to our Hotel Bloomfield. It was a very cold night – Karen pulled on her thermals and climbed under three blankets to keep warm in bed – a far cry from the hot and humid plains of India far below us.

16th October. Zero km.

This is just a short and quick recollection of the day. If I get a chance I’ll add more detail later.

Main plan today was for our merry band of travellers to take two tuk-tuks out to the ‘City Centre Mall’ to catch the 12:50pm screening of ‘The Martian’ as this was showing in English. We arrived at the top-level cinema but were then instructed to go downstairs to the box office to buy our tickets, and when we got there we were told that the movie had stopped screening yesterday. What a fail.

With no movie to go see, Karen & Claire went off to do some window shopping whilst Aad, Mike, Emiel and myself went to a bar that Emiel had spotted the day earlier. Emiel and I enjoyed a refreshing beer each, whilst Aad and Mike had their cokes. Karen and Claire joined us and we all ordered a late lunch. My pepperoni pizza was very tasty. When the food and drink bill came out we were all a bit surprised as the alcoholic drinks had attracted a 27% tax on top of the usual taxes – VAT tax and a service tax, so that was a bit steep.

After leaving the bar the rest of the gang made their way back to the hotel, whilst Karen and I stayed back so she could go to a hair salon for some pampering. Two hours later we also caught a tuk-tuk back to the Hotel Rajdarbar, enjoying the crazy night ride through the dense Siliguri traffic.

I wasn’t sure if our tuk-tuk driver was a bit stoned, and he was spitting continually outside the tuk-tuk. Spitting is a big thing here in India – it’s such a common practice I don’t think any of the locals either notice it occurring or are bothered, but it’s not a pleasant sight. When we’re riding we often see passengers spitting great globs out the window of their buses or jeep taxis. So far however we’ve been fortunate enough to have dodged being spat on ….

15th October. Zero km.

This is just a short and quick recollection of the day. If I get a chance I’ll add more detail later.

Went to the ‘City Centre Mall’ with Aad & Mike – all four of us squeezed into one tuk-tuk. Arriving at the mall we ventured into KFC and grabbed some lunch, then had a wander around the shopping centre. Karen and I spent some time looking in the Canon shop as she’s not that happy with the Nikon camera she bought recently – the shutter speed is too slow at 1/1600 to get decent photos as we’re riding along.

14th October. 220km return: Siliguri – West Sikkim – Siliguri.

The plan today was to ride the 110km from Siliguri to our guest house – the Red Mud Chalets – located off the beaten track in West Sikkim, and relax there for seven nights. Aad and Mike were going to ride up with us, and Emiel and Claire would join us at the chalets tomorrow as they are travelling a day behind us, having stayed an extra night in Varanasi.

We left Siliguri about 08:00am from memory, negotiating the crazy congested traffic full of buses and trucks and rickshaws and tuk-tuks and cows, and passed through the military base on the northern edge of town before entering the forest, noting the road sign that warned of elephants and stressed that they have right of way over cars.

Shortly afterwards the road started to climb into the mountains, twisting and turning its way upwards, and this is about where the silly Indian driving started. In one spot the road had narrowed to just one vehicle width, and two cars had ride to enter the narrow section from the opposite ends and had become log-jammed in the middle. Traffic was constantly piling up behind both of these cars, blocking them in so neither of them could reverse out even if they wished, which probably never entered their minds as the common view seems to be that you should never yield on the road, as exemplified by a bumper sticker on a jeep we saw that read “Better to die than drive like a coward”.

Our nimble bikes were able to pick a track around the obstruction and we we able to continue up the mountain, leaving the mass of blocked cars and trucks behind us, and we were able to enjoy the roads without any other vehicles for a fair while.

We crossed the bridge at Melli, entering Sikkim state, and were immediately stopped by police at a check-point requiring us to check-in at their office, showing our passports and permits to enter Sikkim. Formalities concluded we rode away.

The road deteriorated as soon as we entered Sikkim and whilst the route we were taking appeared as a sealed highway on our maps, in reality it was more of an unmade track than a sealed road in many places. We bumped over the rocks and slid through the muddy sections, dodging oncoming cars and trucks we could barely see through the thick clouds of white dust thrown up into the air. Hairpin bends on the road often signalled a shallow water crossing, and in the infrequent moments we were able to steal a glance to the side we could see the edge of the track and then a long steep drop to the river far below.

Progress was slow and hot, and we stopped in Jorethang to get a drink of water. A crowd quickly formed around us and looked at us all quite inquisitively, though unlike our experiences down on the plains here at least people weren’t touching the bikes which was a pleasurable change.

Long sections of the road were unsealed, and many of these had been turned into muddy quagmires. I haven’t done much riding in the mud but the heavy GSA seemed to revel in the conditions, never deflecting from its course. We were stopped at one point by a road gang loading rock into a truck – there were many crews working on the road in different places, but despite their best efforts the road was still in an abysmal state. Aad was quite vocal about the condition of the road – he couldn’t accept how a country could either call the track a main road or let it deteriorate to the condition it was in. As he pointed out – Mike and Karen & I had the luxury of riding off-road capable bikes whilst he was on his Triumph Bonneville – less than suited to the conditions.

We pushed on towards the turn-off to the chalets – Mike had plotted the locations of both the turn-off from the main road and also the chalets themselves which were about 15km down a private road, but we stopped in Legship when we realised that we’d missed the turn-off. We back-tracked across the bridge and found a little rocky track disappearing behind some huts on the side of the road, and we followed this up into the hills for a few hundred metres before Aad stopped next to a stationary 4×4 and asked the driver if we were on the right road. The driver hadn’t head of the Red Mud Chalets, Aad wasn’t convinced we were on the right track, and none of us were keen on pushing up the track. Aad’s back was hurting already from all of the bumping and jostling on the main road, and I could visualise the condition of the track getting much worse – too hard to warrant taking our heavy bike two-up along.

Back on the main road I plugged Mike’s coordinates into my GPS and it took us to another spot on the road where a side road should have joined us, but there was nothing but jungle to the side. We stopped to chat about our situation, and as we were talking I saw some locals walking up the road and then disappearing into the jungle, climbing up a steep path that had been cut into the cliff face that the jungle had obscured. That jungle path was the side road my Garmin India maps wanted us to take, but that wasn’t ever going to happen.

It was now somewhere between 2pm – 3pm and we had been riding for about six hours, and the decision was made to abort our attempts to get to the Red Mud Chalets today and look for accommodation elsewhere. If we could get a phone signal or wifi we’d be able to get more accurate routing information from the chalets and try again tomorrow.

We returned to the first major town further down the mountain – Jorethang – and Aad and I went to check out some hotels whilst Karen and Mike guarded the bikes. There were lots of places in the local vicinity labelled ‘Hotel’ but none of them offered accommodation, and Karen had been busy chasing kids away from the bikes, so we remounted and followed a small track down to a resort that was signposted near where we had parked.

The resort was just a few km out of town overlooking the river, and it looked like an abandoned mental asylum from the outside. I went inside and tried to get some sense from the man wandering around the lobby but couldn’t make myself understood. A young woman came down a hall into the lobby – she looked quite stupefied. I went outside and reported my findings to the others and we quickly agreed to move on to another town.

My GPS showed a heap of hotels about 10km south so we headed there in the falling light as the sun was now setting, but when we’d ridden the 10km we were still in the deep jungle. When I rechecked the GPS it showed that the straight-line distance to the hotels was just a few km, but they were 140km away via road as they were on the other side of the river…. duh !!!

We pushed on to Manpur in the dark. Traffic was still quite thick on the rough roads and I was grateful to have the spotlights on the GSA as they lit up the rocky terrain and mud holes much better. In Manpur again Aad and I went scouring for some accommodation but the only hotel in town didn’t have any secure parking for the bikes. Not happy with that, and with Siliguri only about 50km further south, we decided to return back to our starting point where we knew we could at least get a room and parking.

We stopped again at the police check-post at Melli and signed out of Sikkim, and then started to battle the crazy traffic driving up and down the mountain in the darkness. The vast majority of vehicles here in India don’t have any working brake lights or tail lights, and it was a manic ride down the hill, dodging trucks and cars and potholes.

It was about 8pm when we finally arrived back at our hotel. We’d been riding for almost twelve hours and were all quite exhausted from the experience. We were absolutely filthy – we’d been riding with our visors up to try and see through the clouds of dust and our faces were black, and our riding gear was covered in dust and soaked with sweat. We unloaded the bikes and collapsed on the lounges in the hotel foyer, bags strewn around us on the floor.

Showered and changed into clean clothes we rejoined Aad and Mike in the hotel restaurant for dinner. We hadn’t eaten through the day and were famished, and our meal was especially enjoyed as we’d managed to ride out to Sikkim and return safely – even if at times through the day we’d faced some big obstacles.

Karen and I both agreed that whilst our off-road riding in Albania was the most extreme riding we’ve ever done – today’s off-road ride in Sikkim and back was a clear second choice. I can’t credit our bike enough – fully loaded and with rider and pillion it ate up the conditions. I’m sure the TKC-80 tyres also played a major part in keeping us upright throughout the day – the bike and tyres are the perfect combination for two-up travelling.

We wanted an early start to try to avoid as much of the hectic and crazy traffic as we could. So we were up early…no breakfast, bikes packed and taken carefully out of the narrow little doorway up to the street level from our secure underground parking. We were on the road with Aad (Art) and Mike by 6.50 am…..traffic was already crazy in Varanasi.

Our GPS took us on the shortest route via NH29 and then NH84 -basically straight East, sometimes along the Ganga (Ganges) and it took eight hours total to cover approx 260km, including 1 X 50 minute lunch stop, 2 X quick refuelling stops and 2 X 10 minute drink stops. The first drink stop had us totally surrounded by locals ….so although I bought things to eat (coconut biscuits 10INR and 2 packs of chips10INR) and drink (1L Water and a 600ml Pepsi 60INR total) there… we moved on a bit further down the road to actually consume them….we still drew attention and a crowd, but much less marked! Lunch was interesting…choice was NIL…basically one pot of what looked like grasshoppers….Vince ordered some….I passed. In fact he ended up with a Thali (including the “grasshopper” dish) and Aad (Art) ordered fried rice….not what actually came….2 incongruous curry dishes… along with some chapattis…. it cost us a total of 1000IRN – which we paid equally between us. They guys couldn’t speak much English but they were apt at taking photos….including of us eating…….this is what fame must be like….no boundaries or privacy anywhere!

The roads were a mix of rural and town/village, and the villages were very heavily congested and at times dangerous for us. Shoulder-to-shoulder riding in the villages with a bit of argy-bargy mixed in for good luck…it even tried Vince’s saintly patience more than once! At times we were riding on the road shoulder to get around long lines of vehicles caught up in the congestion. Road surfaces were generally sealed, although not always – and freshly sealed in many places – but that makes no difference to the standard of driving here in India….so far I have to say they are the “worst drivers in the world”….that we have experienced. Sometimes, the roads were so bad that it was difficult to find the area around the pot holes, at others it was just dirt and rock…..the frequent speed bumps and pot holes around the place also caused a few problems…..I guess I don’t really need that spine anyway….and after I find myself either airborne or thumped and shuddered up my spine, the spare tyres we are carrying belt into my back for extra good measure….who needs a Chiropractor? I was hot, sweaty and very uncomfortable…..this is a honeymoon right?

The pollution in India is off the scale and we find ourselves constantly coughing and our eyes stinging! The smells are very unique and I don’t think Chanel or Estee Lauder will be wanting to “bottle” the fragrance anytime soon…..there is rotting rubbish EVERYWHERE, that the animals eat….including the sacred cows! India is a very unsanitary and dirty and I feel sorry for the many starving, mangey dogs I’ve seen.

Along the way, we saw the usual cows, buffalos, goats and chickens… some monkeys, a flock of sheep (unusual)…there were a few donkeys who had either their front feet or opposing legs tied together (maybe to stop them wandering) but they didn’t look very happy about it. The highlight was my first look at an Elephant having a drink by the roadside. The downside was seeing a calf foetus that had been expelled onto the road….there has been a lot of road kill we have seen in the past few days since leaving Agra……but this was something different.

I have to admit that, despite my best efforts, I am finding it difficult to warm to India….and last night I was looking through my photos for an article I am writing for a sports company on adventure travel in Pakistan…..and it was so beautiful….especially in the Northern Area…..I miss Pakistan! Hey, maybe the best of India is yet to come………?

Footnote from Vince:

The riding here in India is absolutely manic – no denying it – but I’d sooner be riding in India then spending a day in the office, and that’s a fact 🙂

Friday 9th October.

With a lot to see here Karen and I decided last night to arrange a few tours so that we could see as much of Varanasi as possible in a single day, so our schedule for today was:

05:00am – morning boat ride

Daytime – Sarnath tour

05:30pm – evening boat ride

The features of these tours were:

Morning Boat Ride:

• Subah-e-banaras:morning ceremony
• Circle of life and death
• Hindu pilgrims from all over India
• Experience spirituality and calmness

→ boat ride starts from Assi ghat at 5 :30 am

Sarnath Tour:

• Place, where Lord Buddha gave his first sermon
• Dhamekh Stupa
• Temples from different cultures, styles, and religions
• One the biggest standing statue of Buddha in India
• Archaeological museum

Evening Boat Ride:

• Dashashwamedh Ghat (main Ghat with pilgrims from all over the world)
• Aarati (Ceremony for goddess Ganga)

→ boat will stay for the whole ceremony

→ boat ride evening tours starts from assi ghat – 5 :30 pm

Our day started at 04:15am when the alarm went off, and at 04:30am we were met out the front of our hotel by Prasann, half of the ‘Varanasi Behind’ team. Prasann led Karen and I down to Assi Ghat, about 2km south of our hotel, where he explained aspects of the daily Hindu religious ceremony we would get to see, being performed by seven Brahman priests. The ceremony commenced with four or five girls changing mantras in a sing-song voice before the priests climbed up on the raised benches upon which sat the accruements of their ceremony, and commenced the ritual – which involved a complicated set of repetitive actions performed with incense and then fire, rotating through the four main compass points.

Just before the ceremony started we were relegated from our front row seats to the second row, and this made the viewing more difficult as we peered around the shoulders of people who came in late and took up the vacant front row … grrrr.

Ceremony concluded, we climbed onto an awaiting wooden boat, and the oarsman slowly rowed us downstream whilst Prasann pointed out the numerous ghats built along the bank of the Ganges and explained their history. We got as far north as the burning ghat, at which point we turned around and dispensing with the oars the boatman cranked up his engine and we putt-putted back to our starting point.

Back on shore Prasann led us a short distance to the Ashish Cafe where we parted ways, leaving Karen and I to enjoy our breakfast of omelettes and home-made toast, and a Nutella pancake. Ricky – the owner of ‘Varanasi Behind’ – met us as we were getting ready to leave, and arranged to pick us up at our hotel at 09:00am so we could go out to Sarnath, for the second of our tours.

Our trip out to Sarnath was a chaotic ride through the morning traffic, made more interesting with Ricky explaining things about Varanasi and India in general, and made more safe by virtue of the 4×4 we were travelling in. Sarnath is a village about 13km north of Varanasi, and its main claim to fame is that it is the place where Buddha delivered his first sermon, to five disciples he had assembled. Arriving in Sarnath we first visited a selection of Buddhist temples that had been built by various countries for the benefit of their pilgrims – including the Tibet Buddhist Monestary, Japanese, Chinese and Sri Lankan Temples. Adjacent to the Sri Lankan temple is the deer park, in which is situated the tree (not the original tree as this was destroyed, but a regrown tree from stock of the original tree that had been taken to Sri Lanka) under which Buddha delivered his first sermon.

We had hoped to see also the Sarnath archeological museum, but being Friday the museum was closed which was unfortunate as I was very keen to see the Lion Capital of Ashoka, but bad timing put paid to that idea 🙁

This from Wikipedia:

“The Lion Capital of Ashoka is a sculpture of four Indian lions standing back to back, on an elaborate base that includes other animals. A graphic representation of it was adopted as the official Emblem of India in 1950.[1] It was originally placed atop the Aśoka pillar at the important Buddhist site of Sarnath by the Emperor Ashoka, in about 250 BCE.[2] The pillar, sometimes called the Aśoka Column, is still in its original location, but the Lion Capital is now in the Sarnath Museum, in the state of Uttar Pradesh, India. Standing 2.15 metres (7 feet) high including the base, it is more elaborate than the other very similar surviving capitals of the pillars of Ashoka bearing the Edicts of Ashoka that were placed throughout India.”

Returning to our hotel around midday we parted ways with Ricky and met Aad and Mike for lunch. Our afternoon was spent napping as we’d had two early mornings, and about 5:20pm Prasann met us again to take us out to Assi Ghat for our evening boat ride up the Ganges to Dashashwamedh Ghat, where we would join other people to watch the evening Hindu ceremony, either from their boats or from the crowded river bank.

When we arrived by motor boat at the ghat the boatman manoeuvred his wooden craft into position by pushing and pulling it around the throng of other boats lashed together, and then tied up so that we wouldn’t drift away. Other boats arriving after us did the same thing, and soon the river was turned into a floating dock, with hawkers selling photos or chia or offerings hopping and skipping from boat to boat as they plied their goods.

The evening ceremony followed the same pattern as the morning ceremony we had seen earlier at the Assi Ghat, but with a touch more vibrancy and noise, and a much larger crowd of pilgrims and tourists taking in the sights and sounds. By 7:00pm the thirty minute ceremony was concluding, and the boatmen quickly untied their boats so that they could start to motor or row their way back. Getting away quickly from the ghat we had one of the few motor boats out on the river that evening and we made good time back to Assi Ghat, where Ricky joined us as we jumped back onto dry land, and led us to a nearby chai house for a cup of Indian tea. A young girl – just ten years of age – was fascinated by Karen and I as we stood and drank our tea, so I chatted with her a little, learning that she was on holidays from Bihar.

Tea concluded and payment made for our three tours, Karen and I caught a rickshaw back to our hotel where we met Aad and Mike for dinner, before starting to watch James Bond’s ‘Skyfall’ on the Mac. Halfway through I was knackered enough to fall asleep, and so concluded our Varanasi sightseeing day.

We packed early, paid our bill (6400INR – 2300INR per night plus food) and after a yummy breakfast Mike, Aad (Art), Vince and I said farewell to our new friends at Kunjpur Guest House, Sharmila, Sheesheila and Mr Nigan….and more…. unfortunately I can’t remember all their names???

We were on the road around 8.15am and the 130km trip to Varanasi took around 3 hours. There was lots of road kill the past two days…..mostly dogs, with some goats etc…..but today I saw my first dead cow on the road……wouldn’t want to be that person…..cows are sacred in India. The GPS took us to our hotel but the narrow busy road was manic to say the least…….all manor of vehicles, trucks, bikes, motorbikes, tuk-tuk’s, cars, horse and bullock drawn carts and of course a multitude of pedestrian traffic. Our arrival did not go unnoticed and the ANIMAL was quickly surrounded by admirers. A bit of a tussle to find the correct parking for our hotel (someone was trying to get us to use a different paid parking area) and before we knew it we were all securely parked (a small elderly man with a very large stick and uniform on guard) and our luggage was taken up to our room. After the palatial home of Mr Nigan this noisy, small, smoke smelling room was a bit of a let down, considering it costs more….2800INR per night. But a COLD, refreshing shower made all the difference!  Not!

My adventure jacket zipper has again broken …..been that way for several weeks now…..so we asked if there was anyone who could repair it. The front desk were most helpful….sending a staff member with us to show us the way along the many narrow streets to a small area where a man sat at an old Singer sewing machine. He spoke no English but I quickly showed him the problem and he directed me to a nearby shop where a young man immediately put on new parts to my zip in minutes and charged us only 60IRN….bargain! He also told us we should go to Sarnath, whilst we are visiting here.

Back at our hotel we had a bit of lunch and then met up with Aad (Art) and Mike to go for a walk to the nearby Ghatt. We are staying very near the Dashashwamedh Gatt, the main one in Varanasi on the Ganges River, but we ended up next to it at Dr Rajendra Prasad Ghat. Closeby is the Vishwanath Temple – there are two Hindu Legends about it, one says Lord Brahma created it to welcome Lord Shiva and the other other says Lord Brahma sacrificed 10 horses during Dasa. It is only 0.7km from our hotel…so we walked through the colourful local market…..continually trying to avoid the many people trying to sell us something…….it really made us feel like ATM’s. Before too long we got our first view of the Ganges and then began to walk along the river passing various Ghat’s along the way until we reached Maha Smashana (the Big Burning Ghat).

Here we met Sandjee, who is a “volunteer” ….he told us we were not permitted to take photos, but was happy to explain to us what was going on and was a wealth of knowledge. Mike and Aad (Art) declined his invitation but Vince and I embraced the moment and when ahead.

In the Hindu religion cremation is one of the rites of passage to Nervana, and the Ghats (a long stretch of steps down to the water) of Varanasi are considered one of the most holy locations. The Manikarnika and Harishchandra Ghats are dedicated to the cremation ritual. Sandjee explained that there are 4 sections ….due to the caste system in India…the four classes are the Brahmins (priestly people), the Kshatriyas or Rajanyas (rulers, administrators and warriors), the Vaishyas (artisans, merchants, tradesmen and farmers) and the Shudras (labourers and poor). It takes over 110Kg of wood from the mango and banyan trees (sandlewood may be used for Brahmins but is very expensive) to burn a body and it takes 3 hours. Sometimes families choose to have the cremation elsewhere and bring the ashes to the Ganges river for dispersion. He told us that the family must first get permission and this is reliant on how the person died, as only those who die of natural caused can be cremated at the Ghat…..if they were murdered or died in an accident, they have to have a cremation at a gas crematorium instead. He showed us the various areas for each cast and some bodies were burning, and waiting to burn, whilst we were there…..burning occurs 23 out of 24 hours. There are workers who collect the ashes and wash them out in a basket in the Ganges….they collect any jewellery and sell it at the markets and the money comes back to buy wood for the poor and dying at the two hospices set up by Mother Teresa. We were shown through these and donated some money (enough for about 4 kg of wood (650INR per Kg) to help the poor dying people). We met 2 nurses there who gave both Vince and I a blessing each. We were also shown the 3000 yr old sacred flame of Lord Shiva and were given a blessing of ash on our foreheads.

The best time to visit the ghats is at dawn as pilgrims come to perform puja to the rising sun, and at sunset when the main ganga aarti (river worship ceremony) takes place at Dashashwamedh Ghat.

Not content with just this, Sandjee menouvered us to go and see the Kamasutra Temple with Lord Shiva….it was only 20INR each…..and it was quite interesting…..although some of those positions do look very painful…..Sandjee says some are dangerous and only for Yogi’s who are very flexible. He was going to take us to see the Kasha Vishwanath Temple (Golden Temple) dedicated to Lord Shiva, the presiding deity of the city. ….but we didn’t have our passports with us and they won’t let you in due to prior terrorist bombings without ID.

Sandjee told us about the 300 hand loom workers at the Gyaneshwar Silk Industries, who make sharis and pashminas beyond belief, but even after we told him we don’t buy souvenirs…. he lead us there to see the Lord Shiva shrine for the workers…..but really is was a “please sit down on these cushions madam and we will show you” ….ahhhhh No thanks! I quickly exited before Vince had even finished taking his shoes off to come in. We paid Sandjee 500INR for his help….but when he started saying to me …”and something from your hand Aunty”…..I told him that I had already given at the hospice…which he accepted. We were happy to donate initially but we were beginning to feel a bit like dollar signs. Sandjee told us we should come back tonight at 7.00pm for Ganga Aarti (river worship ceremony – the Mother Ganges Ceremony) – we thanked him but said we needed to go back and meet up with our friends.

We walked back along the river and exited an earlier Ghat to return to the market place…..being continually hounded along the way for boat, tuk-tuk, rikshaw, postcards, offerings and all manner of other merchandise…..we did buy a bottle of cold water…..but on the way back home we walked alongside one of the many cows that roam feely around and as I passed it chose to gore me with it’s horns….TWICE…. in my right breast….it really hurt and made me cry as I jumped out of the way before it got a third in. Vince took me back to the hotel ….followed by many tuk-tuk and rikshaw drivers offering their services. Back at the hotel, I was able to check things out and thankfully no serious damage done…..but running with the bulls is definitely not on the bucket list!

I am an animal lover …but for some reason the local animals don’t seem to like me much…..yesterday I “accidentally” met a Cobra that could have given me a heart attack….. but luckily it didn’t pop it’s head out….I was shocked enough by the fact the basket the young boy was thrusting towards me had “a snake” in it and high tailed it out of there into our tuk-tuk as fast as I could…….but today I was just minding my own business and look what happened…..so I guess it’s a case if the Cobra’s don’t get you the cows will!

**** Footnote – it’s too late after the event to read online about the “Varanasi burning ghat scam” – we should have known better 🙁