Anamalai Hills & Munnar

Posted on November 26, 2012 by kenmyhre

 Nov 14 – Coimbatore

Today was a play with two acts. Act One had me leaving Kotagiri, at 1900 m donned in a sweater, my anorak and over gloves, for the first time since Northern Pakistan, even though the day was bright and sunny. The cold wind brought out my serious layers. For about 30 km I didn’t really have to pedal, but I did use my brakes almost continually, but not so that my hands ached. This is considered the gentle road into the Nilgiri, only seven switchbacks, compared to 19 through Coonoor and 36 on the road I came up on from Masinagudi. I passed through numerous villages and had endless panoramas. As I neared the escarpment there were over looks where I could see nothing in the haze except the precipitous drop into the jungle far below. I stopped frequently in keeping with my resolve not to have long days in these last two weeks and to try to savour the last of the Nilgiris, that I will leave in Act Two.

In Act Two, I removed my extra layers and entered Mettupalayam, leaving the peaceful cool world of the hills and jungle for the mayhem of Indian cities.

In the last six days I had lost some of my Indian road skills and was continually stressed by pedestrians wandering into the traffic, being cut off repeatedly by the same bus, the incessant blaring horns. It was basically all city riding into Coimbatore, which I did fairly quickly as the road was gently rolling. I had initially thought of riding on through to the next city, as the distance is not great, but again, I had made my resolve.

Coimbatore is a city of over a million and so finding my way into the centre, where I had a hotel reference was not fun. As I neared what I imagined could be the centre, I let my GPS get me close to the rail station, from where I found a nice but over priced hotel, where I will wait out the day. I hope tomorrow to be in a smaller somewhat more interesting place, possibly in the mountains again.

Today I rode 75 km, dropped 1600 m, and climbed 175 m.

Nov 15 – Marayoor

Leaving Coimbatore, heading towards Pollachi was of course city riding for the whole 40 km. I stopped after about 45 minutes at a bake shop and had tea and sweet rolls, not my favourite kind of breakfast but it did fill a bit of the cavity. Getting out of Pollachi went quicker and I was in country and could periodically see through the haze outlines of the mountains that I was heading towards. I was hoping to get into what my map labels as the Anamalai Hills, if not today then tomorrow.

I hit the turn off to the minor road leading into the hills at 75 km at a little before noon. I was hoping to find a place to stay part way along the road that would lead to the town of Munnar, another 90 km and 1100 m higher. On this road the hills now became increasingly more apparent, but I was still not climbing much. I was also hoping on getting some of the climbing out of the way today. Suddenly I hit a gate and the Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary. The guards indicated that there would be no place to stay until Munnar, now 72 km away and still the full climb ahead. A kiosk guy indicated that no, there would be a lodge, I heard him say Marion Lodge, another 30 kms along, and that there was no place to stay close by. So off I went.

The road was immediately the single lane sealed type, with lots of pot holes. The trouble with this type road is that at no time can you go fast, even down hill, because you are weaving all over the road finding un-broken segments, and so it would be slow going, my 30 kms. The climbing began, initially up and down and later a continuous climb for many kilometers. I also began to meet quite a few vehicles, cars, and buses, which meant I was in the dirt or bouncing through the cavities.

About 13 km in, I hit the Kerala border and the road was better from there on in, but that was also when the serious climbing started. I now felt better, because it looked like I would be able to get to my prospective lodging before dark. And so I began to enjoy the jungle ride. I couldn’t stop too much because of my time constraints, but I was drinking a lot. Luckily I had filled up at the entry gate. The climb took me high above a tumbling creek, as it wound through the hills. It was too convoluted for me to figure out if we were climbing to a pass or if it looked like we would gain a plateau, that would continue on to Munnar, still a long way away. I thought about eventualities at this prospective lodge I was heading for, and worried that I might miss it and ride past, or maybe the lodge did not exist or have space. I knew I would not go onto Munnar. I would have to find a porch or something to sleep on. I still have a few power bars to get me through the night.

The kms ticked off slowly, each one indicated by km posts along the road. I was climbing at about 7-9 kph, so I knew it wasn’t as steep as it could be, but I was getting pretty wiped after the long day. I passed two places to stay about 2 km away from the goal, but neither appealed and so I pushed on until I came into the town of Marayoor, with signs for a number of places to stay. It took some time for me to figure out I had been told there were lodges at the town of Marayoor, in fact about twenty, not one Marion Lodge. Once again the poor communication really kills me at times. I chose a fairly nice place, had a great room, got showered, beered and later a nice dinner. I had a couple of hours of grace on the sunlight, but almost no poop left in my legs.

I rode 130 km and gained about 600 m today.

Nov 16,17 – Anachal

Heading away from Marayoor I thought I was facing a 600 m climb, or at least I knew that Munnar, the named hill town I was kind of heading towards was 600 m higher. But I also had 40 km and so knew that there could be some up and down. Well I started with a 100 m drop, which I would had to regain.

The riding was incredible, I knew it would be slow and that I had all day and so I kind of just enjoyed it. The day was sunny but not all that warm. As I gained altitude, slowly but surely the cool air became ever more refreshing. The road wound in and out of the enormous tea plantations. The plants are planted in small clusters, possibly 1 m square, so that the pickers can walk between them. And so you have an enormous checker-board pattern spread out over impossibly steep slopes. There were quite a few pickers out in sporadic places. They have a little metal box that they squeeze to pick the top-most leaves almost individually. When the box is filled they dump it in the big sack they are pulling. When the sack is filled they carry it up to the road and wait under a shade tree for a truck to come along. Given the size of the fields and the number of pickers and their rate of picking it would take years to harvest what I have seen as I ride along. Something must change as the fields need picking. At any rate, the whole scene is incredible, with the flame trees and hibiscus plants adding colour to the glorious green of the tea plants. And so the kms and m slip by as I toil my way up. It took some 25 km to climb to 1800 m, well above Munnar. I then had a fast sail down, still in tea plantations.

Entering Munnar, just before noon, I saw no reason to stop; it is not a pretty place, and I was hoping to find a place in the countryside, either the jungle or a tea plantation. I had the name of a guesthouse and when I saw a tourist office (tourist towns do have some value) they directed me to where I might find out more. I was passed on twice more and finally found out about a little guesthouse, Woods Cottage, in the jungle about 10 km down the road.

I went back to the edge of Munnar and had a wonderful buffet lunch at a high end restaurant. It was possibly the new best meal of my trip. I guess tourist towns have more than one thing in their favour. After lunch I was on the by now very rough steeply down-hill road. I had to leave the main road and got to my rendezvous spot with the guardian of the guesthouse at exactly the appointed time. He took me down the steepest road I have been on this trip. I will be pushing my bike back up here for sure. My brakes only just kept me in control. We had to leave my bike in a house by the road and we carried my bags about 300 m up the hill side to my little place. I am the only client; the manager, his wife and two small boys live in the back. I am fed a beer over looking the trees and up the steep hill to the other side of the road we have come down. While having my beer two golden orioles fly by and the only competition for the bird singing is the periodic beeping of the tuk-tuks on the road.

I will stay two nights here and just sit and see whatever birds fly by the door.

Getting here today I rode 55 k, climbed 950 m and dropped 1050 m.

My second day here, I walked a small amount and re-read the Kite Runner, enjoying it even more than the first time. A group of four young Brits came for lunch at the tail end of a 20 km trek, lead by the guy who booked me into the cottage. They were beat and would be taking a taxi back to Munnar. I continued my relaxing day.

Nov 18 – Thattekad Bird Sanctuary

I left the Woods Cottage early, got a tuk-tuk to take me, my bike and stuff to the top of the hill, and then I had a pretty nice down hill morning. The side road that brought me to Anachal connected with the main road down the valley after 5 km, and after that it was a little busier. The road took me past two nice waterfalls, both littered extensively with garbage. One of the people shepherding the British hiking group pointed out a nicer route off of the main road that would get me to Thattekad. I crossed the Periyar river just before the town I was supposed to find the branch road. I stopped beside a small unmarked road and a local confirmed that I could take the road. It was wonderful. I had worried that it would climb back up into the hills, but it basically followed the Periyar on down stream. I was now down to a little over 100 m, and so the heat and humidity were up, but not oppressively thanks to the deep forest. I began to pass through some rubber plantations, and had a nice stretch of riding with butterflies as my only road companions.

I had the name of a resort, from Lonely Planet, but came to it 12 km before the Bird Sanctuary and so did not stop to check it out. I crossed the Periyar again and there was a sign for the Bird Sanctuary, so I stopped and within a minute a man came out from a kiosk to sell me on a guesthouse in the Park. I was still thinking about the recommended resort, thinking there may be another one close by. In the meanwhile he had called a woman who came down and talked me into walking into the park with her to look at her place, the Jungle Bird Guesthouse. Before we got there, about 300 m into the park, I had decided this was exactly what I wanted. The place was full of birders, an American, a Scots couple who were leaving, and six Indian birders who would leave in the evening. And it costs 900R (~$17) for accommodation and meals. Guided sessions were extra. This was the start of my longest and friendliest stop of the trip. I am now down out of the hills and into the Kerala jungle proper. The hills have been wonderful and I am somewhat reticent about trading in the cool hills for the humid jungle. We shall see.

I rode 65 km to get here and dropped about 800 m.

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The Nilgiri Hills

Posted on November 13, 2012 by kenmyhre

 Nov 9 – Forest Hills Resort near Masinagudi, Tamil Nadu

Boy, do I know how to screw up a great day.

I got away from the Parklane in Mysore after a good breakfast before 8:00. Actually, breakfast was funny. This is the most “with it” hotel, tourist wise place I have stayed in India. Each night there was probably 50 foreign travellers, and so they know how to handle us. Anyway..breakfast. I was in a bit of a hurry, as always. I ordered a pot of coffee, a sweet lassi and two poached eggs on toast. The coffee and lassi came quickly, as I wanted, and then the eggs came, and then a few minutes later they came again. An order of poached eggs comes with two eggs, and so when I ordered two poached eggs I got two orders. We argued a bit and they took the second order away and did not charge me. They must anguish over the language issues as much as we do.

Down the road it was wonderful. I was free of Mysore in minutes, the traffic was not too bad, the road smooth and the temperature in the low 20s with little humidity, due to the 700 m altitude that I was starting at in Mysore. I was comfortable riding in India for the first time. The road was wide enough that very few vehicles found the need to blow their horn. I was extensively in high range as the gently rolling hills began. I knew I was climbing, but only just and so I was well above 20 kph most of the time. I love going fast.

I went through a few villages and had the usual enjoyable scenes of people on the road.  Before long I began seeing the mountains rising in the morning haze. I stopped at one point to take a picture of a pond heron, and also took distant shots of a kingfisher and an Indienne roller. Clearing the last major town before getting into the hills proper I stopped early, 11:00 and had a tasty vegetable biriyani and was on the way into Bandipur Tigre Preserve. The world changed.

No stopping, photos, smoking, picnics, littering. It is amazing they let me ride through on my bike. I began with a long steep climb, but it was so attractive nothing could take my pleasure away. It is amazing how much you get used to the litter and garbage along the way. In the park, a few idiots had thrown their Styrofoam, plastic bottles and cigarette boxes out, but it was pretty good compared to normal. The road was only a bit wider than one lane and the traffic was down to a vehicle, mostly cars, every two minutes. I saw no animals on my ride through Bandipur, until the park headquarters where I took some shots of a chained elephant and her baby.

Soon I passed into Tamil Nadu and the wildlife preserve changed to Mudumalai National Park, with the same list of don’ts and lots more hill climbing. Before long I came across a mother elephant and her baby. She positioned herself between me and the baby, but did let me take some pics. I know I wasn’t supposed to but she didn’t seem to mind too much. Within half an hour I came across what looked like a young single male. He scurried off a bit when I stopped, and then a bit more, to about 75 m. When I started to pull out my camera he started to charge. I had a down hill in front of me and as he stopped and trumpeted loudly I was on my way. I guess I can see why the extensive list of don’ts includes stopping and photos.

I got to my junction about 10 km before I expected and I was on my way to Masinagudi, now on a an even narrower one lane sealed road, with lots of up and down, still gradually climbing. I got to town and found a restaurant to have a drink and make my phone calls. I am looking for a wildlife resort where I can spend a couple of days. It took a couple of calls before I found one, 6 km ride higher into the hills. At the end of another one lane sealed road I had a km of rough trail, only to be turned back. I had been given the wrong name, but after heading up another rocky road I ended up at Forest Hills Guest House. It is pretty rough on the surface, but beneath that veneer, it was wonderful. There are a number of cabins spread around their grounds and a few nice rooms in the main lodge. All will be filled tomorrow and so they offer me a rough room in an old cabin at a price I cannot turn down. Most importantly to me is that the place is deep in the forest, up against the park , completely isolated from anything else.

The first thing they offered was a cold beer on my porch and so I like the place already. I had a shower and began getting set to head out and do a look around, when I noticed my cell phone was missing.

After a thorough search I concluded that it was gone. The manager phoned the restaurant I phoned from in Masinagudi but it was not there. I rode the 6 km back into town just to talk to them, but that didn’t do any good. I must not have zipped up the pocket I carry it in well enough and so it fell out on the rough roads. My cell has my India guide book, all my reading books, and a host of other applications I use in Calgary. It is also my main connection with Rich at this point.

After the best riding day of the trip, I bugger it up like this. The evening meal was a very nice buffet that helped to sooth my battered ego.

I rode 110 km to get here and another 12 to no avail.

Nov 10 – Forest Hills

I was out front of the office at 6:15 for a coffee with Jeff and Becky, while we wait for our wild life guide to turn up. They are an American couple, I’d say about 50 doing a week holiday on top of a business trip. They are fit and have been out the day before with Ravi our guide. He indicates that we have some climbing to do this morning and wants to know if we are up for that. We agree.

The park borders the resort property and so we are soon out in the morning dew which even makes the elephant and cat tracks apparent even to me. We follow some elephant tracks carefully. Ravi’s stories about elephant attacks on tourists and locals points out how dangerous they are, and how lucky I was on my ride through the park.

We get close enough to see signs of a big bull through foliage, but skirt widely not having a safe place to get a better look. We do see some black backed woodpeckers, the biggest in India. Away from the elephant we fairly quickly follow game trails higher up the mountain, stopping on rock outcrops to view the jungle below. We saw many sign of both leopard and tiger, including fresh tracks and old claw marks on trees. A sloth bear has been out this morning digging for termites. As the sun came over the mountain we headed down into the creek bottom and back down again. We again came into contact with the old bull elephant, and quickly continued down as we were between him and his harem.

This was a pretty good 3 1/2 hr workout and I really enjoyed the tracking process and the company of our guide and Jeff and Becky. We had a great breakfast and I had a relax for a while.

They have a viewing tower, looking over the park, well away from the main lodge. I spent a couple of hours watching for animals and enjoying the flitting about of the birds. I saw a few pheasants and some of the giant squirrels and had a thrill for a moment as I awoke from a snooze. I saw some movement through the trees and then a let down as five cows came filing single file through the trees.

For an afternoon session we went by jeep to the home of a local who has a great viewing veranda at his home. Jeff and Becky has seen tiger, elephant and samburu there two days earlier. Naturally, we sat there for three hours and saw only some wild boars. I seem destined not to see any big cats.

A big group was at the resort and it was not until 9:00 that we had a big outdoor meal of many dishes. By then Jeff and Becky and I were joined by a Finish Vet, her Indian husband and two children, the owner of the resort, and her son who does wonderful bird photos. The long wait also meant that more beer was consumed than normal. I had another great day and the Forest Hills has become one of my favourite places anywhere.

Nov 11 – Ooty

I have agreed to phone Rich from Ooty, or I would probably stay another day at Forest Hills, but I am off after a good breakfast and a surprisingly small bill for all I consumed and the tours I went on.

This was to be a challenging ride. I dropped the 5 km back to the road and then gradually began climbing towards Ooty. 15 km from the resort I hit the first of 36 switchbacks. They are marked and the road is renowned for its steepness. At the first switchback I began pushing my bike. I do not know how steep it is, but I was only able to ride about 1/3 rd of the switchbacks, pushing being not much easier. I entered the tea field and stopped once for tea at a roadside kiosk. Over the top finally after about 3 1/2 hours to do the 30 km, I had another 6 km into Ooty . The road got quite busy as we joined the main road in from Mysore and in town, I was wondering why I left the jungle.

I found a place to stay and at 8:00 I was able to find a phone and connect with Rich. He will not be here for four more days and so rushing here made no sense after all. I need to do some further research so I will be here for two nights.

My visit began with a walk through the very extensive gardens that are a legacy of the British who planted all of their favourite trees and flowers from Britain, and they thrive here at 2200 m, as did the Brits themselves.

Today I cycled 40 km and gained 1500 m in the process.

Nov 12 – Ooty

I walked a bit and cycled quite a bit around the area today. I struck out on finding an effective way to get into Mukurti NP, a high level preserve that they don’t seem to be giving trekking permits for. Not sure why. One interesting place I ran into Fern Hill Palace, a Maharaja Palace turned into a hotel, that seemed to be too expensive for anyone to stay at. It is lovely though.

Nov 13 – Kotagiri

I have chosen this routes away from Ooty based upon reviews I have read about the road choices I have. This one is longer and starts by climbing, but it much less busy and supposedly very scenic.

It took a steep 5 km climb to reach the trail that goes up to Mt Doddabetta, at 2637 m, the highest point in South India. I left my bike and walked the 3 km up to the summit and back. You can drive up and so the top is a bit of a zoo with souvenir and food vendors aplenty. The narrow road is the only walking path and with all the jeeps and minis running people up, it was not quite the Nilgiri walk I was looking for.

For the next couple of hours I coasted slowly down to Kotagiri, passing through many small villages and stopping frequently as I was captivated by the tea fields rolling over the mountains. The road, unlike most in India, is glassy smooth and twists through the trees giving endless panoramas. In the high air, and not doing any work I had to stop to put a sweater on. What luxury.

Kotagiri, the first hill town in the Nilgiri, is a fraction of the size of Ooty or Coonoor, the other hill town I may have headed to. But I have a nice place to stay and am enjoying having put in a very easy half day ride/walk. But I will head on tomorrow leaving the Nilgir after 6 very nice days. I have a dramatic drop left to do and hopefully will not drop all the way to sea level for a while.

I cycled 35 km, climbed 550 m and dropped 785 m today.

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Goa to Mysore

Posted on November 8, 2012 by kenmyhre

 Nov 3,4, – Panjim, Goa

It is a luxury for us, after six days on the move early every morning, to read the paper and dawdle over breakfast. But we still have the early morning habit and so we were out with the morning traffic to cycle the 10 km to Old Goa. We had to make our way back around the complicated traffic circles at the end of the large bridge that brought us into town and then down a narrow two lane road right along the bay. The traffic was thick, which as always means there are at least three sometimes four lanes of vehicles, using the two lanes, so I couldn’t watch to see that Rich was following. I stopped about half way to Old Goa at the first old church, but he didn’t turn up. I waited again when I got to the large square in the middle of Old Goa where the main churches are. I figured he had stopped to look at something and would turn up sometime. At any rate we are independent here.

Tiny Goa, the smallest province in India, was established by the Portuguese some 500 years ago and was only brought into India in 1947. One result is that it is heavily Christian and the attractions in Goa are all relics of early Christianity, built in Portuguese times.

I visited the massive Cathedral Se, two almost equally large churches and a number of small museums. I tire of old religious art pretty quickly, but the architecture, old cemeteries and plaques showing those buried in the churches are interesting for me. St Francis Xavier came to Goa, ostensibly to clean up debauchery, died here and his burial coffin is on display here.

I bumped into Rich, as we both wandered around this site. Apparently he had missed the turn to the road along the bay and done a somewhat longer run in.

Old Goa was abandoned as the capital of Goa a few hundred years ago, I understand because of the Malaria problems or something. Hence Panjim, only 10 km away, but is not as marshy I expect. I spent the afternoon having a leisurely lunch while watching divers picking shell fish from the river bottom and looking around hoping to find an internet site. Panjim is not overly tourist oriented as most Goan tourists head for the beaches north or south of Panjim.

The next day I did another ride around town, looking at the old beach area and searching for old interesting houses. Of interest was an ornate ashram, if that is the right thing to call it, that sits above town. I made my way up there, but other than a young guy doing his homework while watching over the place I never saw anyone doing anything. Coming to India, I expected to see a more active involvement with these extreme religious sects, but other than periodic buildings where I guess people come and involve themselves, I don’t think these things figure in the everyday life of India at all, mind you normal Hindu activities are mystifying enough to me.

I struck out completely on the Internet thing here, in part because our second day was Sunday. Rich had taken a cab out to the beach area north of town and found all sorts of activity there, including an internet cafe.

Rich also told me that his plan, for our last three weeks and some, is to leave his bike in Goa and get to a number of places by bus or train. He will then pick his bike up on the way back to Delhi. The traffic has begun to wear on him, and I think he would just prefer not to spend his time biking when he could be visiting sites, important for him to see. For me, the sites are less important than the travel between them, and I guess the prime thing I wanted to do when coming to India is to cycle in the Nilgiri Hills, which is still to come. No doubt when I get there and am struggling up the umpteenth steep hill I might question that desire, but I really don’t want to give up that opportunity when I am so close.

We went out for our best meal yet on this trip, a Gujurat vegetarian thali at the nicest hotel in town. This meal was so much better than anything we have had that I wonder how we could be missing finding more like it.

I cycled 50 km looking around Goa

Nov 5 – Palolem Beach

Rich and I had our final breakfast together and I headed off alone. He is going to hang around Panjim to get some more information before deciding where to head next. I am cycling south towards Mangalore, about 400 km away. From there I will get a bus to Mysore and begin my cycle into the Western Ghats and the Nilgiri Hills.

But first I have to get safely out of Panjim, which turned out to be a challenge as I hit the heaviest traffic yet. For fifty km, through Margoa, on two lane and four lane roads, over hills across big and small bridges, I was cheek to jowl with trucks, buses, cars and motorcycles weaving their way through the pedestrians, cows and dogs. I am fairly comfortable doing this, but when it is this heavy you can not let your attention stray for a second; it gets taxing. In this situation I push harder, in part to keep up as best as I can with the speed of the traffic and in part to just get it over with. This might be one of the reasons Rich is worn out, he tends to be more careful and slows down in these situations. At any rate I was down the road, and out of the heavy traffic pretty fast. As the traffic thinned, I began to enjoy the ride. The continuous hills and thick trees that we had been in all the way from Mumbai returned and I had a lot of shade that helped some, as the sun that we had escaped the last two days on our ride into Goa, had returned.

My initial plans, based on travelling with Rich, had been to cycle to the south end of Goa and spend the night at a beach that had been described in my Lonely Planet. As noon approached, and I needed a break and a meal, I came to the turnoff to Palolem Beach. It is about 3 km off the road, about the maximum I would let myself stray from the way. Once there I checked out a guesthouse advertising wifi. It is run by an expat who took one look at me and ran and got me a large drink of water. Sweat was dripping off of me and I was probably the colour of an old beet. They didn’t have food and so I went on around the corner and was accosted by people selling their guesthouses. I left my bike at one and walked around to the beach, which was crowded by mostly young westerners in skimpy swim wear. I was looking for a place to eat and stumbled into the swankiest place on the beach and ordered their lunch special, but not before ordering a beer. I had decided to stay, do my internet catch up and have a half day at the beach, about my limit.

My little guesthouse was away from the beach, but it has internet and all the facilities that I need, and was pretty cheap. I ate well, had lots of beer and got some blog updates done. I even walked the beach three times.

I cycled 75 km getting to Palolem

Nov 6 – Kumta, Karnataka

I read a book, while at Palolem, which cost me much of a night’s sleep, but I guess I needed to sooth that need. Still I was underway, at 7:00, significantly less energetic than yesterday. The hills began immediately, but the traffic was light and the road good, so all was fine. I found a nice place for breakfast at about 8:30; breakfast being a bottle of juice, a samosa and some warm Goan bread (buns). I hesitated for a bit at a turnoff to a game sanctuary, but continued on when my map indicated that it could be 20 km away, with no guarantee of a place to stay or eat. Even though I had not slept enough I was enjoying the day and making reasonable progress, although with the hills average speeds are not much.

I finally ran into a calf this morning. An incredible experience, travelling Indian roads, is the slaloming you do through the cows that wander at will, lie down to sleep or, as calves do play. No matter how busy the traffic is the cows serenely occupy the roads as they will. Two calves were jousting and I slowed down to pass them when one jumped in front of me. I was only going about 7-8 kph when I hit him, and so he bounded away, showing no ill effects. More importantly to me is my bike is ok as well; I hope I didn’t anger any Hindu gods in the process.

At my extended lunch break, extended to wait for the heat of the day to abate, I actually dropped off to sleep for a while. As I continued the road began to break up in parts, never for long, but it was worrying anyway. On other sections it would begin this way and then get worse. As the day was getting on, I was looking for a place to stay. Rich and I had been lucky, except for one night, to find an upscale hotel along the way, but I had not seen any all day, until I was pulling into the little town I was not going to go past. Right at the end of where I was going to ride before looking for a less than desirable place I found a perfect place, and checked in.

I had a long long shower to try to cool off and drifted off to sleep for an hour, making up a bit for my sleepless night. I awoke to a terrible thirst and staggered out to buy some beer, the hotel was vegetarian which also means sans-alcohol, to begin the re-hydration process. During the ride, I drink the 1.5 l of water I carry, stop 2-3 times for 1 and usually 2 bottles of soft drink or juice. At lunch more juice or soft drink and at least a litre of water. By the time I stop riding for the day, more of this sort of drinking is not very palatable, but beer is and so, I need my beer. Needless to say I was also looking forward to a full night’s sleep, but I did catch the start of the US election on the tube.

I cycled 110 km today

Nov 7 – Mysore

Having scrutinized my maps at each of my stops along the way, I had noticed a major intersection near Kumta that headed in the direction of Mysore. I was never that keen on cycling into Mangalore, yet another big Indian city, just to catch a bus to Mysore so, when I saw the bus depot a few minutes after leaving my hotel, in I went. Sure enough there was a direct bus to Mysore leaving in an hour. It was a local bus, which meant hundreds of stops along the way, but it would get there today. The issue is always about the bike, can they, will they load it on the bus.

The appointed bus pulled up and it was pretty full, people got off and more got on. I was standing back a bit but the driver and attendant indicated I should take my bike on the bus. I grabbed a seat and carried my bags on while the attendant was passing my bike in through the doors. We threaded my bike down the narrow passage right to the front of the bus beside the driver, where my battered up old Dahon sat, looking out the front window all day long. The best seat in the house. On all other rides he had been thrown into baggage cars or strapped to a roof top, usually getting somewhat mangled in the process.

At the first stop many got off and I moved into a front seat where I can see all things and which I had to myself all day. I got to observe, over a twelve hour period one of the best drivers I have seen. Manoeuvring this big bus through all of the obstructions that I deal with on my bike, but with dramatically less space to do it in, and never faltering, although he must be exhausted by the day’s end. Rich had commented that I was sometimes 4 inches from vehicles as they passed me, I think this driver is capable of using 2 inches as his margin of error, and it left me a bit more confident that things will continue to go well.

We started by climbing about 700 m into the hills on a hairpin, winding often one lane road. We passed India’s highest water fall, although I only got a brief look. Once up, we stayed up the rest of the day. We stopped to let off and pick up new passengers continually. I only dozed once for an hour or so and really enjoyed the day. At 8:00 pm, as we trundled along in the dark close to Mysore, I got a scheduled call from Rich and we each talked about our progress and scheduled our next call. It looks like we might connect again in 4 days in Ooty.

I checked into the Parklane hotel and will spend the day in Mysore, visiting and getting more information about the route into the Nilgiri. Before bed I was able to get some updates on Obama’s win in the US. I am so pleased that at least a slim majority of Americans are still with the rest of us in the world.

My bus ride was about 300 km and took almost 12 hours

Nov 8 – Mysore

I was up, after a good long sleep, and had a leisurely breakfast before heading out to see the attractions.  I have become inured to the attractions is large Indian cities, but Mysore held some mystique for me, and I do like the people watching in small doses.  In Mysore the prime tourist attraction is the Maharaja’s Palace. Built beginning in 1897 after the original burned down.  Mysore was the former seat of the Wodeyar maharajas for 500 years. The new palace is considered one of the premier palace structures in India. Designed by a Brit, it incorporates aspects of Mughal, British Raj and Indian in a style called Indo-Saracenic. It utilizes heavily steel and concrete, ornately painted, to guard against fire. But, there is some beautiful wood work in the doors and ceilings. As the building was not compleed until 1912 electricity was build in and it even has an elevator.  And loads of stained glass. Too bad you can’t take photos, I thought the whole thing quite incredible.

I rode my bike around a bit, but soon saw all I needed, including more buildings from the Raj days. This is a real tourist town, my hotel is expensive, but to make up there are lots of good English speakers and it is easy to get all sorts of food.

But tomorrow I will head for the hills.

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Mumbai to Goa

Posted on November 5, 2012 by kenmyhre

 Oct 29 – Murud

We had scouted out the ferry crossing that would get us out of Mumbai, and I had confirmed on the internet that the way on south was possible from the ferry. We were starting out to cycle the 600 km from Mumbai to Goa, possibly six days. This way out of Mumbai was one of the reasons that we were able to come into Mumbai in the first place. Getting away from a city of 17 million can obviously be an enormous issue.

We had a fast breakfast at 7:20 and rode to the ferry terminal in 5 minutes and made the 7:45 ferry to Mandawa. The ferry was basically full and we had to carry our bikes down stairs to the boat. It took about an hour and some for the crossing and we were riding down a pretty peaceful country road by 9:00. We soon got into the traffic that feeds into Alibag and got lost a bit before finding our way on down the road. The heat and humidity started to hit by 11:00, and we stopped and had a light meal. We rode on for less that an hour hitting a lovely sand beach with some concessions where we each had three drinks, and dozed in the shad of the the concession, while watching the young people playing on the beach and sea.

We cycled on for another hour or so, hitting Murdu where we tried a couple of places before checking into one of them. It was pretty good, but there was no beer and we had to wait until 7:30 to eat. We had done 75 km, some of it on the rough back roads we had seen further north, but mostly it was a pretty nice day. We now had to make a decision of how to proceed further south. Our hotel host explained that he thought the best would be to get inland to the main road going south, as the coast road was very rough. He drew out a description of how we would get to highway NH17.

Oct 29 – Mahad

We had breakfast at the same hotel we ate at last night and were on the road a bit after 8. For the couple of hours the cycling was idyllic as we snaked our way east, stopping at every intersection to confirm our route. The road was good, it was still cool and there was no traffic. As the heat began to build we hit a 13 km rough section that drained us. We again had three drinks at the first stop with cold drinks. We had 15 km more to go at this point and were dreading it, anticipating more of the same, but it turned out to be wonderful, including a long down hill that we didn’t have to brake on due to the rough road surface that had been the norm up to this point.

We hit NH17 at noon, after 55 km and had a long lunch break before heading out in the heat. We did 40 more km, stopping often to drink and suffer.

In many ways this day was not too bad, but the heat really drained us. We had entered Mahad having seen about a dozen signs advertising a Visava motel, and so had high hopes of finding something above the basic hotels we see everywhere, and it is. We had beer, a great shower and nice room and are getting rejuvenated for the push on.

We did 95 km today.

Oct 30 – Chitlun

We got away with a hotel breakfast by 8:00 and started with a 7-8 km climb, probably gaining 3-400 m in the process. The road is well engineered, with only a few steep gradients, it is probably in the 6% level most of the time, so we were pretty slow. I experienced some back pain and so for the first time this trip took some ibuprofin which seemed to work. We are riding in the Western Ghats, and will be until we drop down to Goa in a few days time. The road is continually climbing and dropping and so it is a workout. NH17 is pretty busy the whole time. Periodically the road surface simply deteriorates and so we have pot holes or even no sealing left, just rough gravel. But then we get some kms of great surface and moments of quiet on the road. Each town we go through is a bee-hive of activity with people wandering across the road and tuk-tuks picking up and dropping people off.

Sometime after noon we decided to have a lunch break, rather than pushing non-stop to Chitlun, where we had been told there should be some good hotels. It is good we did, because the hour and some in a cool room with a little food quite rejuvenated us. We are not travelling long distances, but the riding is tough and past about 11:00 it is well above 30C, and so we sweat profusely.

At Chitlun we found a good hotel, but nothing on the level of last night at the Visava. Regardless of the level of the places we stay in the people are so helpful, friendly and enjoyable. We struggle a bit with the language sometime, but they almost always help us up to our room with our bags and every request is met with a head waggle and a smile, even if they don’t know what we want. Indians are so easy to like.

Today we did 95 km again.

Oct 31 – Lanja

We were supposed to have breakfast as part of our room, but they were not going to be ready any time soon, and so they gave us some finger sandwiches and tea and off we went. We did not have the long climb off the start today, but we made up for is with a never ending series of climbs in the 2-4 km range. We stopped for a restaurant break at about 10:30 today and that made a big difference. After that we continued strong for a couple of hours before we had another restaurant break. At these breaks we mostly try to cool off, drink a lot and have a snack, at this one it was a shared order of fries.

We headed on, now on the lookout for a hotel. 20 km found us in a small town, with some very basic places, but we weren’t going any farther and so we chose one. This one cost us 300 R (~$6), while we normally feel that 1500 R is a good deal. Our showers were accomplished with a dipper from a tap and we expect bed-bugs will be our companions as we sleep, but we are able to get showered, beered, fed and in a bed (albeit shared like so often in these places).

I walked up the road and found a place selling cold beer, which we had in our room, and the meal was alright, if a bit salty.

Today we did 110 km.

Nov 1 – On the Road

We had bananas and hit the road about 7:30, to a different day, it was overcast almost drizzly. Which meant that it was a bit cooler and so I went a bit harder than usual as it warmed me and felt so good. We had a lot of climbing, basically continuous up for 50 to 100 m and then down again. I guess I got a bit too far ahead of Rich, because when I stopped, he did not turn up for half an hour. We both tried our phones in this period and they did not connect. We had no cell coverage .. wouldn’t you know it. I rode back 4 km and found Rich waiting in a town that he thought I would have stopped in. He had only gone 18 km since the start, but I guess because of the time it took us I should have stopped earlier.  

The continuous climbing persisted until we stopped for our second lunch break and then we had about 30 km of pretty flat riding, to our night stop. We also rode longer into the day because without the sun hitting it was a little less draining, even though with the humidity we still sweated profusely, especially when we stopped.

Cycling in this way is very tough and you watch the road happening continually, but the scenery gives some mental respite to the riding.  It may sound like it is drudgery, but the hard work does pay off with the visual and viseral. 

The place we stopped at on this night was one of the fairly regularly occurring nice places. Our only exception on the run down from Mumbai was last night. This one had basic rooms, but cost 1400 R unlike the 300 R of last night, but we had more confidence that we would not have any little crawlies in bed with us, not that we had last night.

I did 113 km today.

Nov 2 – Panijim, Goa

Our hotel served us breakfast in the room and off we went. The day continued to be overcast and the road was fairly flat. After about an hour it actually started to rain, for the first time seven weeks into this trip. We waited about half an hour in a sheltered spot and then continued on, continuing to make good time. NH17 finally drops down to the coast briefly before climbing over on last series of hills before entering Goa, the smallest province in India and our destination for this leg. We had some serious climbing on this section and as we got to within 20 km of Panijim, the capital, the road got quite a bit busier. We had one final meal at a nice place and then did the somewhat hectic ride into the town. We used our GPS to get us to a hotel, but it was not up to snuff and so we found another close by and booked in for three nights.

We did 97 km today.

Our six day, 600 km ride down through Maharashtra province was pretty tough with quite a bit of rough road but the endless hills of the Western Ghats is probably what it the toughest. I just read in the paper that October was one of the hottest on record and so that was certainly a factor. Tough as it was, it was great, and the best section of cycling on this trip yet.

We will now have two days off to visit Goa.

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Jaipur & Mumbai – Superficially

Posted on November 5, 2012 by kenmyhre

 Oct 23,24 – Jaipur

We had a nice breakfast at the hotel and then walked down the street to a RDTC hotel where we booked an all day Jaipur tour. More than I wanted, but we missed the half day tour. Rich and I were the first to board our full sized bus and we took our assigned last row seats. After a couple of more stops the bus was full and off we went. Our guide was good enough to speak English, basically to us and a Japanese couple. The Indians hopefully understood as well.

We visited three forts, including the most famous Amber Palace late in the day. We visited the City Palace and Jantar Mantar, a wonderful astrological park , filled with huge sun dials of various designs, instruments to predict the location of the planets and things. We must have seen all of the main city attractions and we did not get back until close to 8:00 pm, much too much for me, but is was enjoyable seeing all the great things here. I was impressed by the dedication illustrated by the less privileged in their long lines to get into the temple at the Amber Palace to honour the last days of Diwali. It was fun watching the monkeys cavorting, and crawling around the palace walls with them.

We had good meals on the roof top of our hotel on both nights in town. Our train back to Sawai cost us 1300 R each, for first class AC, coming it was 50 R each for rush where we horned in on a second class train. As the train left at night we had all day in Jaipur. I went back into the old town to visit the Hama Mahal, one of the attractions on my ticket we did not use yesterday, and Jaipur’s most famous landmark. We also ate a very good vegetarian restaurant called LMB, that has attracted locals and tourists alike since 1954.

Jaipur is certainly the nicest city I have been in in India so far. There is still lots of hectic traffic, but also some places which are not so bad. The architecture though, is what is most attractive. There is a salmon colour to many of the buildings in the old town, and the ornate domes and pillars that are seen in the palaces and forts appear often in small buildings around the town. There are still no end of touts selling everything and the tuk-tuk drivers like to drive a hard bargain, but that is part of things here so we live with it.

Our two hour train ride put us back in Sawai at 7:15 and we checked back into the hotel where we had left our bikes and bags. We have been talking about taking a big jump south on a train. The small station of Sawai should be easy to book at and to get our bikes arranged. We are so leery of the road quality and the hassle of getting on trains makes it hard to use trains to get us out of trouble, so hence if we do a big jump, possibly we can stay on our bikes until it is time to get back to Delhi.

A railway agent at the station in Jaipur gave us an idea for getting to Mumbai. Tomorrow we will try that.

Oct 25,26,27 – Mumbai

After breakfast we headed down to the station which was pretty peaceful. Naturally the suggestion the agent in Jaipur made didn’t work. Instead of getting 1st class AC, we are wait listed on 3rd class AC, on a different train. We feel that is a pretty good possibility, but it will be a rough 16 hours. A small possibility exists that we can upgrade while on the train. So we hang around for a while and then I will go back to attempt to get moved off of the wait list and then hopefully we can go back to get our bikes booked on.

Our efforts at getting our bikes on our train were only partially successful. We had no trouble with lines or communicating but our agent suggested that our bikes might take three days to get to Mumbai, and that it was only a 50% chance that it would be on our train. We made our bookings and headed towards the platform our train would arrive at. We still had an hour to wait.

As the departure time came closer we saw our bikes being rolled towards where we hoped the baggage car would be and signs began to appear which put us close to where our car would stop. There are about 30 cars in a train like this.

We were very pleasantly surprised with our seats. We had the two lower bunks in a three level bunk cubicle and the car was pretty new. We also had no bunk mates when we boarded. And the train was pretty fast. No stops in the first hour. We watched the country side slip by for a while and then pulled the curtains, turned out the lights, pulled down some sheets and were soon sleeping to the restful sway of our car as it headed into the night.

Around an hour into our dreams the curtains were pulled open, the light turned on and a family of about 8 began to settle in, first with bags and then with assigning bunks and with eating. The mother handed out food to everyone and finally the father made up bunks; our compartment was now full of 6 people with 2 more across the hall, and a couple hours after their arrival our fitful sleep was allowed to continue.

We finally pulled into Mumbai Central, at 7:30 am, 15 hours after departing Sawai, pretty fast for the 1000 km journey. I went down to the baggage car and could not find our bikes, was taken in tow and lead to the front of the train where there were more baggage cars; still no bike. At this point an elderly man took control, and we went to his office and he began phoning. At first it looked like our bikes might come on a later train, but finally they were found. We had tea and chatted for an hour until they turned up. Rich’s bike was scrunched a bit, but my front wheel was bent and I had to operate once we were established in our room. This was the first time our bikes were buggered on the train.

We had about 5 km to cycle to our booked room, the YWCA, where we spent two nights. I cycled and Rich walked/cabbed about and we had a brief visit of some of the highlights of this old colonial bastion. I liked it much more than I had expected, mostly the ornate old buildings from the British Raj days, but also the coffee houses, a fine museum and the fairly reason able traffic. At any rate, our city respite is close to being over and I am looking forward to setting out on our bikes again in the morning.

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Birds and Game Viewing

Posted on October 24, 2012 by kenmyhre

Oct 18,19 – Bharatpur

We left our hotel in Agra at 7:30, and for almost an hour followed the GPS directions out of town. Unfortunately our hotel was on the east end and we had to get out of the west end to get to Fatehpur Sikri, our first destination. For a place like Agra and a significant road like HH 11 which is the main route into Rajasthan, the way out of town was particularly intricate and congested, in part because we were part of the morning rush.

Once out of town we had a nice hour on a two lane treed and shady lane. Still a bit of traffic, but not so much we could not enjoy the activity in the fields and along the road. We entered a four lane toll road as we entered Fatehpur for the run through to the ancient city.

We parked our bikes and had a cold drink in a nice looking hotel before walking up to one of the many attractions at this old capital of Emperor Akbar. He had three wives, a christian, a Hindu and a Muslim, each said to have their own palace, but we did not venture off to see them. As we entered through an enormous gate to an inner courtyard we were each beset by young men selling themselves, their wares, their information or whatever. We both shook them for a while, but they kept popping up like a bad penny. At one point Rich told his that if he said one more word Rich would just leave. We walked back down to the hotel watching our bikes, with no appetite for further visits at Fatehpur.

We had a leisurely lunch and decided to head off in the mid day for Bharatpur as it seemed to be only an hour away. Riding mid-day would normally be something we would try to avoid. The Birder’s Inn is recommded in LP as a good place to station for visits to Keoladeo NP.

Rich was stronger than me, on this day, and I pulled into the Inn quite spent. We chose the upper end room, deciding not to share one of the matrimonial bed rooms. We started with a cold beer on a padded seat overlooking the garden, before even rolling our bikes around. This place is the best place we have stayed in all aspects, and if the birding is good we will certain spend two nights here. After weeks of peeling paint in our rooms, here we have stencilled patterns in our arched ceilings; after fraying carpets here we have inlaid marble floors; after bare light bulbs here we have stained glass shades on all fixtures, even the bathroom. I am a bit queasy and am not sure what to do. I have a medicine recommended by a pharmacist in Delhi, I guess I will give that a go.

Our guide, Soran, turned up at 3:00 armed with a Swarovsky spotting scope, one of the best money can buy. This is a good sign. We rode our bikes a few hundred meters to the Park Entry, and the three of us headed off on our bikes. We stopped withing 200 m and viewed a Black-shouldered kite and an Indienne roller through the incredible scope. It feels like you can reach in and touch the delicate feathers. We were out less than three hours and saw about 35 species, not counting the common ones like peacocks. We would ride on for a few minutes and Soran would jump off his bike and have the scope focused in on a bird before we could get there. We saw numerous other guides with clients. Only one or two had scopes, some not even binoculars. There is no doubt we got a special guide here.

Near dark we had a 5 km ride back to the hotel and arranged for a 6:30 am start in the morning. We headed off a different road, this one dirt and then brick, and continued to add to our list. I was able to get some reasonable pictures, but the resolution is just not there to zero in on the very small part of the image I am able to capture. Still it will act as reminders for me, the pictures I include will be the central very small part of the image my camera captures.

We had breakfast at 10:30, as all other things here, the best one so far, and arranged another go at 3:00. This is probably over kill, but if you have great birding and an excellent guide you have to take advantage.

Our evening birding did not bring any new birds, except for a sarum crane, which is a large red-headcd crane., and we spent longer watching the raucous painted storks.  We did a bit more riding on this evening, which got us to the end of the park and then we again had a fairly fast ride back into town. Possibly my best picutre was of the Rajasthan ladies in their colourful outfits as they walked back to their village from working in the park, each with a load of wood on their heads. They had initially covered their faces, but as the passed me on their way home they all gave me a big smile. It is hard to tell what their customs regarding hiding their faces.

We cycled 70 km getting to Baratpur from Agra and then another 30 km on our three birding rides into the park.

Oct 20, 21– Gangapur

We left The Birders Inn after a full breakfast and then rode 7 km along NH 11 the main highway to Jaipur, and then turned off on a non-coloured road, the least popular on our map. At first the road seemed to be very broken, but after about 5 km we had nice running for 80 km. It was a quiet road and we saw many of the birds that we had identified for us by Soran in the park. The life along the road was very colourful, but as we had a long day ahead we kept trucking. We had questionable snack at 80 km and kept going. The afternoon was opposite from the monring. The road started out well and then turned terrible. At one time the road had been sealed, but it was continuously eroded unto often there was only a strip down the centre wide enough for a motorcycle, which kind of rules the roost here. Meeting one, every 30 seconds or so we both ride to the sides of the pavement, but if you fall off it is in the rubble. This was the best of the road. Most often it was just broken up road with sharp rocks and loose dust to pick through. Another ugly feature was where the road was there, but it would be interlaced with 3 in cracks that you could only just bounce over. We rode continually hoping for a 100 m of relatively clean road, wbich kin of kept us going.

Arriving in our destination town, Gangapur, the road continued to be brutal right into town. We used the GPS to get us to an area where we found a basic room. The main part of our sustenance this night was 1 1/2 very strong beers each. Outside of the tourist places food will be tough.

We did 130 km today.

Oct 21 – Sawai Madopur

After yesterday’s road we chose a longer route to get us to the town at the base of Ranthambhore National Park, where we have little hope of seeing wild tigers. We had an interesting narrow lane route through Gangapur that put us onto the highway, two levels above yesterday’s road. It was exactly the same and we bounced along for almost two hours to cover 20 km. I had stopped to wait for Rich and when he came along, despondently, he announced that he was going to change from his clipless cycling shoes into his walking shoes as the road was so bad. This worked, from then on we had good roads into Lalsot, where we again had the same questionable snack and a drink. Our route now turned south again and we found ouselves on a higher end main road, that was not marked as such on our map. Still we had 65 km to go and the heat to contend with.

With the better road we can look around a bit and we are still entertained with the camel carts, women drawing water and carrying loads on their heads and the endless stream of kids either wanting to say hello or to get sassy. When we stop we are soon swarmed with mostly young and older boys who ask the usual set of questions and want to flip our levers and size up our bikes, which are very different to the standard one speed 50 lb variety you see here.

It is tough cycling, even with a .good road as it is so hot and dry. We can not keep the fluid level up and when we stop it is usually about re-hydrating.

We are stopping here to visit Ranthamphore National park, famous for its tigers. We are in a resort hotel, our for the budget minded, no doubt other very much higher end are here as well. We will be taking a jeep into the park tomorrow morning, as that is the only way visitors can enter. We do no have high expections.

We did 110 km today.

Oct 22 -Jaipur

At our hotel, the Azur Safari Lodge we had breakfast at 6:00, and then waited from 6:30 to 7;00 for our jeep to turn up. I was upset as if there is any chance of seeing tigre, I would imagine that it is the early bird that gets the worm. All sorts of jeeps, and canters (they hold 20) went by and I imagined following that cavalcade into Ramthanbhore park. Our jeep turned up finally and I got about five reasons why no one was at fault. We were with an American couple who had been on 6 earlier safaris and a Russian who had been on three. She asked if we had been on others. In response to my “no, this is the first”, she replied “oh, that is why you were upset, they were an hour late for my first one.”

We drove for half an hour before getting into zone 8 of the park, and then on some rough park roads where we saw no other vehicles, dispelling one of my concerns. We climbed up the rocky escarpment and had some nice views. We saw some antelope and some nice birds, but no new ones for us. The Americans had seen a mother tiger and three young ones on one of their outings, but I think the possibilities are very low, still the environment was great and we didn’t really have high hopes for a Spotting.

Rich and I paid the same for our three hour outing that we paid for our individual guide for close to 12 hours at Keoladeo, where we saw about 70 different species. Not much comparison here.

Back at the hotel we rested abit, ate and then headed to the train station for a ride in an out of Jaipur, one of our destination cities. We left bikes and bags behind and will return after two nights.

We got tickets for the equivalent of $1 each, for the two hour trip. We are obviously not going in style. When the train pulled in we joined in the rush of hundreds trying to get on before anyone on the train could get off. Once on we walked up and down a few cars looking for a seat. We found ourselves in a reserved sleeper section and no one there was too keen on sharing their benchs with us. But after we looked beseechingly long enough we were both allowed to crawl into an upper berth, where the sleeper had enough sleep and was sitting with others in a lower seat. We expected to either get hit up for money or asked to leave; neither happened and within two hours we were magically in Jaipur, and in a very nice hotel.

Tomorrow we hope to do a one day visit. I may have trouble dragging Rich back to the road.

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Taj Mahal

Posted on October 17, 2012 by kenmyhre

 Oct 16,17 – Agra

Agra is only a two hour train ride south of Delhi, but for us because of our bikes, it means getting up at 3:30 am. We cycled in the dark around to the north side of the train station, got separated yet again and made our way separately to the baggage office where we negotiated rides for our bikes. There is much paperwork and labelling on or bikes to do, and so I wasn’t too worried about Rich finding his way to the office; particularly as we had been there on a trial the day before. I did try our new phones, but of course his was still off. Rich turned up in plenty of time to roll our bikes across a few tracks, up and over a few others to our track and the baggage car, in time for our 6:00 am departure.

The two hour train ride gets us out of Delhi avoiding many ugly stressful cycling hour and it puts us into Agra, the home of the Taj Mahal, possibly the most beautiful structure in the world and the Red Fort, possibly the most important Mughal fort in India.

We had pre-arranged a hotel and after checking in I headed out to the Red Fort. Rich had been there before and would rest awhile and then choose one of the lesser attractions. I wandered a bit on my bike before finding the huge red sandstone walls that rise above the river.

Entering the labyrinth of ramps and gates built to slow invaders, I was struck by the work using age-old methods cutting slabs and carving details in replacement red sandstone. Initially, it was the sheer size that impressed me, but once inside my interest was again drawn to ornate intricate details of the Moghul architecture which I have becoming attuned to of late. There are many structures within the Red Fort, some in red sandstone and some in beautiful while marble. The carving of rock is of various themes. Some panels are of inter- woven vines and flowers, others geometric and on others intricate calligraphy. As the Red Fort was once the capital of the country, the carvings are of high quality, quite deeply incised and often is inset with semi-precious stones.

Walking along the western parts of the Fort the windows open onto a view along the river to the Taj Mahal’s bulbous domes rising in the afternoon haze.

My second day had me at the Taj Mahal in the morning. There are three gates in the Taj, I had been at the Western gate yesterday and on my cycle here this morning I went by the East Gate. These two gates are designed to serve tour buses while the South Gate is hidden within the rabbit warren streets of the old city, and quite un-approachable by bus. By entering via the south gate the iconic images of the Taj Mahal unfold as you pass through each enclosing structure. Finally, you stand on a raised marble platform and the Taj rises into the sky with a series of symmetric water ponds, pathways and gardens acting as foreground. Symmetry is a huge part of the theme here. To the left, as you face the Taj, is a Muslim mosque. An identical building was built to the right that has no purpose other than symmetry.

Often long awaited visits can be a disappointment. My initial impresions of the Taj Mahal surpassed my expectations. I continued my visit by walking on down the main pathways, stopping often to try to capture some of the visual impression I was experiencing. I was thinking about the love that the Emperor Shah Jahan must have had for his wife Mumtaz Mahal. She had died giving birth to their fourteenth child. It was his broken heart that lead to the Taj. The monument, the main iconic building we know, took eight years and the entire complex another 12 years to complete. Sadly, a year after its completion Shah Jahan was deposed by his son Aurangzeb and spent the next eight years until his death imprisoned in the Red Fort.

As you finally enter the mausoleum itself, and the fine detail of the carving and inlaid stones become more apparent a feeling of reverence, if it is possible for me to have such a thing, came over me. The Taj is a mausoleum. Its walls are intricately carved lattice work and as such it is not an enclosed building. This entire place is an homage to one man’s love for his wife and sadness at her death. I was deeply impressed.

I spent the next two hours walking the grounds, sitting on some of its many peaceful benches enjoying visages of the Taj as it poked its faces at me through the trees. I tried going back through the mausoleum before I left, but by now it was filled with loud visitors and the feeling was gone.

The Taj Mahal experience is a highlight of all of my travels.

Tomorrow we hope to get away early for a full day of cycling that should include a stop at an ancient city Fatephur Sikri and for the evening we should arrive at Keoladeo, a world class birding site.

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Hospital Stay

Posted on October 15, 2012 by kenmyhre

 Oct 11 – Amritsar

We had an lazy morning in Wagah as the border did not open until 9:30, and then it took close to an hour to make our way through the multiple checks on both sides, but it was not busy and every one was interested in these two old guys on bikes, so it went pretty well.

The 32 km ride from there in was pretty nice, starting with an empty 4 lane road. I may be wrong, but on the maps it looks like this is the only significant border connection between Pakistan and India. Pity, given the long history together and the need for them to get together. My GPS is now working, and it took us nicely along the streets of Amritsar to the hotel that we had picked out, and it worked out fine. The very first thing we did was have a picture of cold beer in the courtyard garden cafe.

After settling in and relaxing for a while we took a tuk-tuk to the Golden Temple, the main temple for the Sikh religion. We took our shoes off and donned a headscarf, walked through a cleansing pool and entered a large courtyard, surrounded by white marble buildings, onto a patterned while marble walkway. People were walking peacefully or sitting and observing the main point of interest. The Golden Temple sits in the middle of a pool and so it rises above its reflection from all sides. Most of the temple has been coated in gold, over its 450 year existence, 750 kg our books say. In the walk around the outside people stop and say prayers at inscribed dedication stones, or at alcoves where a holy man might be reading from Sikh scriptures. People were bathing in the water, drinking it or buying it to take away. It is interesting how water, in many religions is seen as purifying or curative.

We cued up to walk the causeway that brought us into the temple where there were more holy men, chanters and people playing instruments including an unusual accordion. We had to keep on walking out the door in the queue. The gentle music we heard in the temple was piped into the courtyard and followed around as our walk continued.

Obviously the majority people here were Sikhs and we were able to observe the full range of colourful apparel and styles for all ages. No one hassled us to buy things and so it was quite a moving experience; one of the better ones at religious centres.

The night walk back to the hotel was nice, through the old town and markets until it came time cross the rail tracks and the busy roads around the station, Not much fun as you have to thread your way through the cars and motor bikes that do tend to weave around you, but can you trust them to see and to avoid you.

Oct 12,13 – Amritsar

We walked to a park and visited a museum, dedicated to Maharaja Ranjit Singh, the same guy who gilded the Golden Temple. The temple illustrates, using colourful dioramas, Ranjit’s battles which wrested much of the area around Lahore and Amritsar from the Moghuls. We went thinking the museum could have been tacky, but it was not.

As the area from here down through Delhi to Agra is very busy, possibly hot and tedious and because we are both a bit under the weather we had decided to fast track our trip to the south by taking trains as far as Agra. If think that if it sounds like rationalization it usually is. So we went and stood in lines at the Train Station for the next number of hours, and I began to wilt, seriously. After some time I could no longer stand up for more than a few minutes and on our walk back to the hotel I could not keep a continuous walk. At the hotel Rich, I was now in his hands, asked about a doctor. We were sent to doctor in his clinic and he did some diagnosis. Not too hard I guess. I was completely de-hydrated from the diarrhoea, and all of my body indicators were off. He prescribed a bunch of stuff and was sending us out when I almost toppled over. It took him no time to decide to send us to a hospital down the street.

I spent the next 30 hours there most of that in emergency. They had me on intravenous the whole time getting drugs into me and getting my electrolytes back to normal.

Other than my problems and what it might mean for our trip, after they reduced my agony I thoroughly enjoyed the Emergency Room experience. I was able to watch a very effective medical system, had no end of the staff stopping to visit with me, when they had a moment. I found them all of them delightful and helpful. During my stay in emergency I watched the team work on three different victims of some mishap or other and was impressed by the work they did. An interesting aside was the way they so skillfully let the concerned family members in at first and then gradually ushered them out and then locked the door as the work got serious. In our world we would be much more brusque when the serious work had to be done.

A highlight for me was the many good conversations I had with a young nurse, Sandeep, who had earned a scholarship that brought her from her small village to an English language school, and then on to Bachelors and Masters degrees in Nursing. She has now applied for a PhD program in Toronto. She was on duty in emergency while I was there. In fact she worked 14 hours that night, and so she did much of the work on me. I began to learn how to get her to do the little head wag the Indians do so endearingly. It might mean yes or no, or possibly or we will see or just about anything.

“Sandeep, will that lady they brought in earlier be all right?”

Smile, head wiggle, no discernible verbal response. Possibly in this case it means “as god wills”, as the muslims would say. No doubt you need to grow up with it to fully understand. It didn’t matter to me, When a pretty young thing smiles and waggles her head at me it makes me happy no matter what it means.

They must have pumped a gallon of medicine and salts into me, and it brought my body measurements back in order, but I will have to admit I cheated a bit on the diarrhoea, lying to them about how fast it was clearing up. Rich had changed our train departure to the next day and I had to get out, so I left without clearing out the offending beasties. Hopefully the medication our good doctor put me on will complete the job. I am still having emergency little dribbles that I have to watch very closely, and am concerned about getting it cleared up.

Oct 14,15 – Delhi

We had to be up at 3:30 am to be ready to deposit our bikes in the baggage area of the train and make our way onto our car for the 5:45 departure. It is a pretty basic sleeper car, with no AC. We had been assigned seats and had room to strech out across a bench that had four seat numbers marked above. We travelled with the windows open for about 8 hours to go less than 400 km, stopping countless times. We were entertained by a continuous stream of vendors selling everything from food and drink to trinkets of all sorts. Beggars were also numerous and they included children, often maimed, gypsy types, ostensibly from Rajasthan and transvestites, to provide us with the continuous reminder of how strange this country is. By the time the train got to Delhi people were all over the place with as many as eight sitting in the four seats. The only exception was our seat as they mostly left us alone, except for the odd intrepid traveller who would sit with us for a while, talk a bit, possibly offer a bit of food, and then move on.

We arrived at 2:00, found a very nice hotel near the station, where we will leave some things while we go south and return to for our flight home in December. We also outfitted ourselves with cells, me with a sim card, Rich with his very first cell phone. Tomorrow we will get ready to take another train leg to Agra and the Taj Mahal. We will leave our tourist visit of Delhi until we return at the end of November.

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Pakistani Cities

Posted on October 11, 2012 by kenmyhre

Oct 6 – Islamabad

Rich headed off by cab to find a mini to take him to Taxila, an archaeological site some way out of town. He had done a pretty complete job of the city while here last year. I headed off to bike the 15 km or so to Islamabad. I will visit a couple of the attractions that I am most interested in and also spend some time riding the streets, which for me is a great benefit of having a bike in foreign cities.

It was the morning rush hour and hectic, but with an unloaded bike I can easily keep up with the flow. I find if I can ride with the fastest vehicles I feel safest. I zig-zagged my way through the unfamiliar streets, but the twin cities are mostly on a grid system so I always knew approximately where I was. There are numerous high volume roads and multi-level traffic interchanges that are the only complication, but with a bike I can hop across barriers if needed.

At the far end of Islamabad is the Shah Faisal Mosque, that is my first destination. It was pretty easy to find, once I found myself on Faisal Avenue, as it rises dramatically against the Margalla Hills. Like Islamabad itself, it is a modern adaptation of the traditional elements of mosque design. It was primarily funded by the King Faisal of Saudi Arabia. I was quite impressed by the grandeur. There were cleaners on both the Minarets and the Dome while I was there. They also impressed me. I removed my shoes upon entering and I was able to take some photos away from the prayer hall, where I was allowed to look in. Some number of people, including a few women, talked to me, further adding to my comfort and enjoyment.

I had cold drink in the shade with the taxi drivers, and then cycled on into the business part of town. I wasn’t too interested in looking at much of this world, but was looking for a coffee house, after a couple of weeks without. The main business thorough fare is Jinnah Ave, and after some looking I found a Dunkin Donut, where I spent a pleasant hour drinking coffee and reading an Islamabad English newspaper, fulfilling another need that builds over time.

My next tourist destination was the Pakistan Monument. I had the location pegged pretty well and some more side street cycling got me in view of the monument sticking up out of the park trees that it sits in. The trouble was that I had a very large complicated interchange in front of me. I hopped a couple of medians, rode against the stream a little and then went up a road that got me to the locked back gate. Some friendly grounds keepers showed me a trail through the trees that got me to the entrance parking lot.

Inside, as usual, a number of people approached me with the usual questions of “where are you from?….how do you like Pakistan?…How long will you be here?…how old are you? ” I don’t mind these questions because they are almost always honest in their intent; very few are touts after something. People really want to make sure we know this is not a country of terrorists and they see the few visitors they get as potential ambassadors. I am pleased to act in that way, as the people have been the best part of this country for me.

Mostly the people addressing me are men, but just inside the gate a woman came up and said “Will you take a photo of my class? How much will you charge?” This took me back a bit, but I am now used to people asking me to take their picture and asking to have me in a picture with them. However I have yet to be asked how much I would charge for the privilege. I tried to indicate I would be happy to take a picture of the class and that I did not want to be paid anything. The woman was confused, but she was joined by two younger people, a younger man and a woman, teachers at the school, who could both speak better English. By now the students were also beginning to form around us and some of the older ones helped sort things out. Soon we had most of the class and with some juggling to get the smaller ones in front I got a couple of pictures. It was really fun helping to find all of the little ones and shy ones who were going to get left out. I hope I got everyone. The woman who first spoke with me is the principal and the students are from Gujanwala, a city near Lahore. I have the email of the male teacher and will send him the pictures I took. I am not sure what the attraction of having an ugly old foreigner take a picture when almost everyone here will have a smart phone or digital camera, but I really enjoyed the interaction, so I won’t worry about the cause I have served.

The monument, to their independence as a country, was built between 2002 and 2007. Architecturally the monument is four flower petals representing the four provinces. I also spent an hour in the attached museum getting up to snuff on the heroes and issues of the independence movement.

That marked the end of my brief visit to the capital followed by an exhilarating rush hour cycle back to ‘Pindi and a shower and a cold drink before going out to dinner at Larosh restaurant, which has become the mainstay of our food supply here in Pindi.

I cycled 50 km today on my visit.

Tomorrow, early, we will take the train to Lahore, probably the most important Pakistani city, historically and culturally.

Oct 7 – Lahore

We left the hotel in Pindi about 5:30, cycled through the streets, still dark and quiet at this time, and got to the station in about 15 minutes. The fellow who indicated that we might not be able to get our bikes on the train, and then gave us to believe he would help us at 6:00, was asleep at his desk. At about 6:00 he started to move around and then did the paperwork, charging us 400 rupees (~$4), and took our bikes.

Our first class car was pretty seedy, but we did have big chairs and air conditioning. We had lots of opportunity to buy eats and drinks It was a pretty easy ride, closer to 6 hours to do the 280 km than the 4 that was advertised. It was a very flat ride and we were able to observe much of the life in the villages and farm districts we passed through. One difference over our mountain trip to date was the significant increase in people and in water buffalo.

In Lahore, the first hotel we had chosen to try was closed, the second, about half an hour away was a dank hostel, but the manager pointed us to a nicer place that we checked into for 3 nights.

Rich went for a walk, I did a blog and then hit the streets. I started to walk towards a large gathering and was stopped and search lightly and then let through. As I got close to the crowd another person with a ID tag on his neck came running over and said it would not be safe for me here. I asked what was the demonstration was about. As we entered Pindi, the demonstration was in support of teachers; there always seems to be something to demonstrate. Well tonight it was the silly anti-Muslim movie that had drawn their attention. I turned and 

We took a tuk-tuk (I’m not sure what they are called here) to the Fort. One of the two UNESCO sites here in Lahore. Very large, quite run down, but a nice environment. I am really noticing the dry season more and more as everything is dusty and dirty. In the second largest mosque (after Faisal in Islamabad), I had a nice encounter with an old guide who lured me in by asking me to step into a little alcove, where he emitted a deep throat sound that amplified into an eerie moan. I followed him a bit and then gave him some small change, in part because he was so tiny and cute.

The Old Town abuts the fort, and so I walked in with the idea of taking a cab out when I tired. It was so tight and congested that I could find no ride, nor ea drink for over an hour. By then I was beat by the dusty, smelly heat. The traffic, mostly motor bikes and tuk-tuks, which make a high pitched two cylinder scream supplementing their piercing horns. My queasy stomach was not helping. Nothing was going to appeal, but I was going roughly in the direction of the Lahore museum and Zam-Zama, the giant canon made famous by Kiping in Kim. I finally found them and did a cursory job of that visit, and then struggled the rest of the way back to our hotel. Rich had been in most of the afternoon and I joined him for the rest o the night.

Oct 9 – Lahore

Being too lethargic to cycle, we took a tuk-tuk to the Shalimar Gardens, another UNESCO site and tried to imagine the magnificence 400 years ago. In many ways the decadence of today’s garden, acts as a better outline to build your imagined image on than operating fountains,manicured lawns and lush flower beds.

From there we went to Mazid Wazir Khan, a small wonderfully tiled and painted mosque in the old town. An English girl in Karimabad had recommended them to me and it was probably the highlight of our visit here. It was very peaceful, no touts or guides after us. The tiling and painting are incredible. In particular, the decorative writing has to be the most beautiful of all languages.

Rich left me heading into the old town, I came back and spent most of the rest of the day visiting the porcelain throne. Hopefully I will have enough energy to hit the road tomorrow.

Oct 10 – Wagah

We got away from the hotel about 8:00, before the heat of the traffic or the day hits. We chose a very nice ride out of town, down the mall road for about 20 minutes and then 15 km along a canal road that we did with almost no stopping. This took us onto the Grand Trunk road, first brought to my attention in Kim, as he began his journey to help the Buddhist monk he picked up at Zam-Zama on his quest. While not as romantic, as in Kim’s days, the GT, as it is called running all the way from Lahore to Delhis is still a teeming interesting road, one we will try to avoid as much as possible.

When we pulled into the border, after only 27 km I was sweating deeply, and feeling quite punk. At it turned out there was a PTDC motel, like the first one we stayed in in Pakistan. If it hadn’t been for the border ceremonies or if I hadn’t felt so bad we might have continued on through the border to Amritsar. But we checked in and I lay under a fan for much of the afternoon, feeling somewhat better.

At 3:50, we had been told things would start at 4:00, we walked the 100 m down to the gates. We walked through the Pakistan gate, and chose a seat among the 1000 or so that were gathered on both sides of the road before the India gate. We were the only ones there, the India seats, on the other side of the gate seemed full. After 30 minutes people started to dribble in, beginning with classes of students. We began to notice some segregation. When women came in large groups without men the sat on the right side of the road.

Soon a few very tall Pakistani soldiers dressed in black with tall rooster tail hats began strutting about and posing. The guards on both sides are chosen for their imposing presence.

By 5:00 the seats were nearer full than empty and the ceremonies began. The soldiers were very stern, goose stepping, and pumping their fists. There were a couple of cheer leaders who added some levity and got the crowd chanting. The whole thing was quite delightful, and seemed more fun than serious, in large part due to the silly marching. Mostly it was strutting and stamping, but there were also a couple of brief handshakes between soldiers from each country, a flag lowering and the gates were slammed shut a couple of times. It all took about 30 minutes and was definitely worth the wait, even if I hadn’t felt so punk.

All in all Pakistan has been a revelation for me. Rich had indicated as such, but it is always necessary to observe things yourself. That there are hard and fast religious fanatics and some terrorists in this country cannot be denied, but you sure don’t see any on the roads and streets. In some villages in the hills, as we cycled through children, usually in very traditional garb, would run away, but the vast majority of children acted like children everywhere, with glee and fun as we waved and shouted at each other. Many women wear traditional outfits with full or partial veils, but they are also less cloistered than we have been lead to believe. I can’t help but feel that a majority of the country are more religiously liberal than conservative.

Overall the lasting impression for me is how friendly and helpful everyone here has been, and how much they want to be understood and accepted by the rest of the world. Of course our impressions are based upon interactions with common people, which may not reflect government positions.

From here in Wagah we are 100 m from India.

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KKH – Cycling with Escort

Posted on October 7, 2012 by kenmyhre

Sept 29 – Gilgit

We had breakfast and left Karimibad in cool clear weather, as we have had every day so far, knock on wood. From our hotel it was a 2.5 km switchback down to near the river bottom and on through Aliabad, where it was warmer already and a different, less friendly tone to the people. We hit road work shortly and for the first 30 km we had road work for half the time. Once across the river, into Nagyr communities, the road became metalled the whole way but where we were able to get responses to our hellos in Hunza territory, in Nagry we got either silence or what seemed to be derogatory comments.  We did have a nice coke stop to view Rakaposhi for the last time  We had a lunch at a roadside restaurant after having passed through a desolate canyon and a fair headwind. The restaurant was quite busy and graphic, with its hanging carcases.

As we approached a large town across the river from Gilgit, our destination, Rich commented that there was Gilgit, and now we would need to find a way over there. I should have picked up on that because when I stopped a few minutes later and looked for him he was not there. I asked someone if this was the road to Gilgit as it seemed to be going past. He said it was. A few minutes later the pavement stopped, where a bridge had collapsed. But a rough road headed down to the river and cut back towards Gilgit. There was a temporary bridge, which I crossed and then stopped to wait for Rich. After 45 minutes I headed back up the rough road and back through town, watching for him in case he had bike trouble. No luck. I talked to the Police and then stopped in at a hospital. I had asked at the bridge if there were any other bridges that could get him to Gilgit and got a negative. I should have asked again in town. I rode back down and across the bridge and up the worst road i have encountered yet. I came into Gilgit from the south. Tried a Youth Hostel and then as I was continuing on into town, there was Rich.

He had stopped in town and been given another and better way into Gilgit. Waited for me to come back, rode down to the rough temporary road, and then returned and gone into Gilgit on the recommended road. We had some words about you should and I did. Travelling like this is tough and in spite of all we have done together we still conflict at times.

Gigit is quite large in comparison to other places along the way, but not very attractive. We will spend two nights here, at a very attractive Medina 2 to get our bearings and make plans for down the road.

Sept 30 – Gilgit

We walked out into the street, found an ATM where we got some more money, had a look at the Sunni and Shiite Mosques, watched boys playing pickup cricket on the Polo grounds and visited a British cemetary. This about does it for tourist Gilgit.

There is lots of street activity and so the people watching is endless. We watched boys playing pickup cricket in the polo grounds with a Sharia Mosque in the back ground. I had a nice visit in a lumber yard, drawn in by yet another large band saw. These might be a hundred years old and the owner was so proud of his that I took his picture and another of his three sons. Later in the day I had them printed and took him copies. I often am faced with the need to do this, so today I made the effort to find a print shop. He was very pleased and it made my day.

We also visited a guide Rich used last year and he gave us some good and confirming information on the way ahead. And so, tomorrow we will get on a bus and ride a few hundred kms to Besham to bypass the worst of the road work, which we have had plenty of. From there it should be farily straight forward riding all the way into India.

Oct 1 – Besham

Our bus was scheduled to load at 7:30, and so we left the Medina at 6:30 and rode through town as the sun was rising. We got to the depot and 7:00, had a reasonable breakfast and began loading about 8:00. The attendant let me crawl up on the roof and supervise the placement of our bikes on top of the bags.

We cleared the first police checkpoint on the edge of town at 9:00, and began bouncing down the horrendous road at that point. To Raikot Bridge, about 50 km, was supposed to have some fresh metal surface, it had about 10. Between there and Chilas the road seemed better than we had been lead to believe. From there on there was some bad sections and some not so bad sections. The real issue however, were the police checks. Before we got to Besham we had been through seven, where we had to go out and fill in our particulars. Twice we had to wait for a line of buses to gather, the first wait was an hour. We stood around under a nice shade tree as the buses gathered. We ate apples, talked a bit, and finally talked with a well spoken Ismaili from Hunza. He told us we were waiting for a cavalcade to form so that we could go through the next area under police escort. Sure enough, after close to an hour off we went. At some point we were let carry on without escort for a while, only to be stopped for another armed cavalcade.

Along the way we had my only view of Nanga Parbat.

The Indus River had joined the Hunza close to Raikot Bridge and we would follow the river all the way to Besham, in a canyon that got deeper and tighter as dropped down its length. At times we were many hundreds of meters above the river only to plunge all the way back down and climb again. Looking down from the window of the bus we could often see no road, only the drop to the river. As the darkness began to fall we were very high up the canyon wall and we could see the lights of vehicles winding around ahead and sometime behind as the road snaked in and out of the ravines. At one point we could see across a 300 m gap to a point it would take us 4-5 km to get to. This is a very dramatic drive.

We dropped down into the valley floor to Besham at about 7:30 pm, totally dark. We got our bikes and bags off of the roof, assembled them and headed off under headlight. Within 100 m we were stopped by a police car, with the usual armed men, but this time also with the police chief who wanted to know where we were from, where we had come from and where we were going, the usual stuff. When he heard we needed a hotel he had his driver follow behind us light the way to a hotel. He preceded us in and talked with the attendants and then left us to eat and go to bed.

This had been a tough day on me, and we both felt dirtier than if we had been cycling all day in the dust.

Oct 2 – Manshera

Besham is at about 670 m, the road to Mansehra, 122 km away, reaches 1680 m and we would start by dropping to 600 m. So it was to be a tough day. We were up early and out the door about 7:30, and there was our police chief waiting for us. He followed us for 10 km, as we enjoyed the freedom of being back on our bike, well at least partial freedom given the police escort. But they turned back and we were on our own in a wonderful valley on a cool morning. Even though we knew we were going to face a brutal climb we were enjoying ourselves.

We stopped for a cold drink shortly before I expected to begin the climb. Just around the corner from our drink stop, we were stopped for a police check on each side of Thankot Bridge. We thought this a bit redundant but the second one was stopping us to wait for a police escort. We were some pissed, as we would need every minute to have a chance of getting up the climb today. We sat in the shade of a tree for about 45 minutes waiting and talking with someone who might have been really checking us out.

Finally a police van arrived and we began getting ready to start riding, wondering how patient they would be going behind us a 6-7 kph hour after hour. But they had other ideas and had us load up our bikes and off we went up and up, for 3-400 m of our climb and 11 km. They then stopped and said it was level and that we could ride. It wasn’t level, but we could do about 11-12 kph, so it was not steep. We managed about 8 or 9 km at this pace before another van met us and our escort turned around. We had entered a new police district and we were loaded in their vehicle for the 800 m climb over 16 km to the top of pass at Sharkul.   Rich had the biggest smile on face that I have seen in days. We had no chance of getting to Mansehra without this help, but now we would have a significant downhill for most of the way.

At the pass we had to sign in with the new police district and were given to believe we should wait, but were then told to go ahead. We dropped a few kms and then went into a hill station type hotel/restaurant and had a great meal. While eating some police came in and smiled. I imagine when we had not come down the road they would have got worried. After lunch we came out of the restaurant to a waiting police van which began following us again. Twice more on the way to Mansehra we were passed off to another district. One escort was two men on a motor bike. We had an escort all the way to our first hotel of choice, which was full and then the second which they found for us. Along the way today, in congested markets they would put on their siren to help us get through.

At our hotel they hung around, and when we went out to see if we could find a beer they walked with us to the store where we bought fruit juice. A guard follows us everywhere and is stationed outside of our room. When we leave in the morning we know know they will be with us.

We cycled 90 of the 122 km, but of the 1500 m gained during the ride, we probably were responsible for only about 500 of them. We still had a good workout.

Oct 3 – Nathiangali

We left our hotel with our police escort at about 8:30 and got stuck right into the Mansehra traffic, made worse by a 4 km climb right out of the gate. The road is two lanes with a rough shoulder that often disappears. In these situations we would usually not use the rough shoulder but in heavy traffic it is the wiser choice to get out of the heavy traffic when you can. The rolling hills also means that there are numerous tight turns up and down. The whole 25 km to Abbottabad is built up with activity along the road. At a few places we ran through street market conditions which means the traffic is stopped from the vehicles dropping people and goods off. When this happened we could sometimes skirt in between lanes and our police escort would again sound his siren, which didn’t seem to do much good.

With about 10 km to go to Abbottabad we stopped for a minute and the police jumped out of their vehicle and suggested we go for tea. We drove on a bit and they then took us into a nice hotel where we had cold drinks and took pictures. At this point we also decided that we would try for a mini-van to take us the 30 km and 1300 m up into the Hill town area, specifiably to Nathiangali. One of the police suggested he knew where we would catch a bus and that they would help us find it.

We carried on into the centre of town and on out. We saw a big bunch of buses and minis but they waved us on. A few kms later, we were obviously leaving town and Rich stopped me and said he thought something was wrong. The police got out of the van and we then noticed they were not the same ones. We had been passed on by the Mansehra to the Abbotabad police and they had no notion we were doing anything other than passing through town. We rode back the 2 km to the mini bus station and they negotiated a ride for us. We tried a small van, which we would take ourselves but it was too small. We ended up with a bigger van and our bikes and bags on the roof. The police negotiated a 400 rupee fare (~$4) for four seats for us. Probably a very good price. In these little vans our legs are up around our chests and so the extra room is essential.

It was a lovely 1 1/2 hr ride up the steep steep road. Nathiangali is a favourite summer retreat for those in Islamabad to get away from the heat, and at this time of year it is nice and cool. We had lunch, found a place, washed some clothes, went for a walk and just enjoyed ourselves.

We cycled about 30 kms today and officially left the KKH, near its end point. What with the buses we were forced to take, and those we chose to take we rode about half of the 1300 km KKH, and it looks like we will be taking more transport in the days ahead as we struggle with the riding routine that suits us on this trip.

Oct 4 – Muree

Rich got going bright and early today and so we were on the road at 7:00, but without breakfast. It was lovely and almost cold as we skimmed along the side of the hills, dropping a bit and then climbing again. Each new ridge had a small cluster of stores. We had a nice 3 egg and chapati breakfast at one of the little roadside places. We were concerned that we were not gaining any altitude, in these ups and downs, as the highest point was supposed to be 400 m higher. Finally after one particularly steep climb we reached a high point and signed in with our first police checkpoint of the day. We were told this was the highest point and so the highest point, mentioned in our guide must be off on a side road.

We got to Muree after a wonderful long drop followed by some moderate climbing. What we saw was not very attractive and then we were told that tourist Muree was still higher. It took us another hour to find our way into the Hill town proper, although it is much changed since the British Raj days. We found a hotel after some looking around, and it is alright, but not our idea of a hill town retreat type of place. We are on the edge of a busy market town selling all sorts of tourist kitsch, with hotels and restaurants everywhere. Oh well this will go down as one of those places that are a “been there…done that” place, but not much more.

We rode 40 km along the ridges of the hill country.

Oct 5 – Rawalpindi

We had breakfast brought to our room and then headed out towards the big town. Islamabad, the capital was built on the edge of Rawalpindi and so now it is a big town with the new and modern city the capital and Rawalpindi the old traditional town.

Our road out was a fast switch-backing road taking us down very fast and then onto a four lane divided road for another 45 km that was almost deserted. In all we dropped 1800 m, hardly peddling, but breaking hard, particularly just out of Muree. Naturally as we entered the city traffic things changed, but it was still not bad all the way to the part of Rawalpindi where we would look for a hotel for a couple of days.

The day’s ride was 68 km.

This marks the end of the KKH leg of the trip and we will now do some city visiting, beginning with Islamabad/Rawalpindi, before hitting India.

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