Day 280 - Dhaka

Well I am back in Dhaka and leave for Myanmar tomorrow.

The plan was to get to Khulna as early as possible to book the Rocket, or at least carry on cycling to Bagerhat. I got to the office at 12:30, but there was nobody there to issue a ticket, only somebody who kept telling me to sit down and I kept telling him I didn't want to. Then he told me his boss wouldn't be able to issue a ticket until 19:00. Oh well, it looks as though I wouldn't reach Bagerhat. I returned at 19:00 to be told to sit down again, but I felt even less inclined to as the mosies were after my ankles in a big way. By 19:30 boss man still hadn't turned up and Mr Sitdown couldn't find him, but assured me he would be there as 10am tomorrow, so my ankles were glad to leave, even without a ticket.

At 9:45 the following day I was back at the office and Boss man was already there, but the bad new was that the Rocket didn't leave until 3am on 27th, to arrive in Dhaka 6am 28th, 6 hours before my flight. I was also told it might be delayed due to fog and I guessed transport in Bangladesh is hit and miss at the best of times, so I decided it was best not to risk it. So it was back to the hotel, pack and get on the road again, somewhat behind schedule. I made it another short day stopping off and looking at the decaying mosques and monuments at Bagerhat before finishing the day at Perojpur. Bagerhat and Perojpur took the brunt on the cyclone in November, but other than the fact that there were more trees down than elsewhere, there was little evidence that anything had happened. There were still a few wrecked dwellings, but I guessed they belonged to people that didn't survive, so there was no rush to rebuild. Those I spoke to said that the people of the area are used to disasters as cyclones and flooding accur every year and there makeshift homes of bamboo and corrugated iron can be rebuilt very quickly. I bought a new belt on Perojpur, feeling very pleased with myself as it meant I could continue wearing my trousers that are now way too big for me. My current belt is useless, it just hangs there and I only wear for somewhere to keep the camera. To keep my trousers up I have to keep my hands in my pockets. I didn't feel so pleased with myself after I had broken it twice before I had even worn it. I threw it in the bin.

Yesterday threatened to be a long day as the road on the map looked very basic. After 4km there was a ferry crossing which I had to wait 15 minutes for. I made best of the time by having a quick breakfast. I got talking to somebody who was on a bus and heading for Barisal where I needed to pass through. That was good news as if buses were using the roads, they must be reasonable. I made it to Barisal in good time and decided to stop for some more food. Needless to say a small crowd soon gathered with the head questioner sitting opposite me. After a few minutes he left and within seconds his place had been taken and I was asked the same questions again. A few minutes later he left too and the same thing happened, somebody sat down and asked exactly the same questions again. I felt like saying `if you are so interested in me why didn't you listen to the questions and answers rather than just staring at me?` My patience was wearing thin, especially when he tried to stir my tea for me whilst I was trying to drink it. Being asked the same questions does get a bit tiresome, but my favourite, and one I never get tired of is `Are you one person?` Of course it is not always exactly the same question, the other day in a hotel I was asked `Are you two or three persons?`, `No, no` I said, `I am only one person, it's just that I need a new pair of trousers.` I reached Maradipur 7km back from the road. On asking about hotel I was told of the Circuit House, a government run chain that are usually very good, but it took an age to find, again no signs in English, but when I asked for a room he said I need the Deputy Commissioner's permission and waved in the general direction of where I had come in from. I decided I had no chance of finding him so went in search of another hotel and found 2 next to each other. At the 2nd I was told it was 80 Taka, but another man immediately raised it to 200, but having seen the soom took great pleasure in telling him it wasn't worth anywhere near 200 and went to the hotel next door instead.

Today was another dash for a ferry, needless to say after cycling hard for 62k, it left just as I arrived. I reckon if I hadn't have stopped for a pee with 6k to go I would have been on it. Thankfully I didn't have to wait long for the next one. It was a pretty small ferry with 4 buses, 3 lorries and 4 cars and nowhere for anybody to go on the 2 hour river crossing. I made the most of my foriegn cyclist's charm and managed to get a seat on the bridge, shaded, high up and with good views of all around. Once off the ferry it was a pretty easy run into Dhaka, I didn't even get lost and went straight to the hotel I stayed in before. I have some left luggage to pick up which I had trouble explaining to the guy on reception, I think it will be a real challenge to get it back.

So as I said at the start, I leave Bangladesh tomorrow. I wasn't that enthusiastic about coming here, but I have had a great time, the people are nice, there is a relaxed feel about the place, the food is good, the weather has been kind to me, I couldn't ask for any more. But I feel sorry for the people here, they have a tough life and work very hard, but they have little support from the government, who in honesty probably don't have the resources, and added to that they bare the brunt of natural forces too.

David and Lyndsey have asked a host of questions, so here are few answers.

(1) Are you going to write a book about your experiences?

Yes, I would love to, but in reality even if I did it would be unlikely to be published, I don't think my writing would be up to it.

(2) When you finally get to Australia, will you decide to keep going all around the world?

You are not supposed to ask that question! (Yet)

(3) Apart from friends & family what do you miss? (If anything!)

A washing machine and cheese sandwiches made with Tesco's crappy, cheap, floppy, rubbery cheese.

(4) Are you fed up of eating rice yet?

I get fed up with rice very quickly, even at home, but it is such a good food for cycling that I still actively look for it. In Bangladesh I just make sure I follow it up with their wonderful sweets.

(5)Favourite place/country visited so far?(you will get asked this question a lot when you get home, so good preparation!)

Tough one, there haven't been many places/countries that I haven't liked. Vienna was a great place but Bulgaria was the nice surprise for me. I didn't expect to like it but thought it was great and would have like to stopped there longer.

(6)Would you like to live in any of the countries you have visited?

No, I would miss my family and friends too much, not to mention Teso's crappy cheese.

(7) How many punctures have you had so far?

Tut, tut, you don't read all of the blog as this was mentioned a little while back, but I would guess it's about 15 due to failure of meterials, ie rim tape and innertubes. Since I relaced everything I have had one puncture in about the last 6,000km.

(8)Will Norwich make the play-offs?

No, but I keep hoping!

Day 276 - Jessore

I have taken on celebrity status here in Bangladesh, and I am not sure that it is always welcome.

Having left Srimongal I turned and started to head west right the way across the country, leaving the main roads behind. Once off the main roads navigation becomes a real challenge. There are a number of reasons for this, there are no signposts, no place name signs as you enter a village, no kilometre stones, nobody who speaks English, me who speaks no Bangla. My only aids are the maps I have, one in a book, the other a proper map, but they are both inacurate in different way. I found my way to Habiganj which was in the book, but not on the map, then it was a simple 15k westish to Baniyachung, except after 15k there was nothing but emptiness. I carried on heading slightly more south than I had expected but eventually arrived, except it wasn't Baniyachung, it was Hobiganj. I asked the way, discovering I had to go 20k north. Great, I now had 5k more to go than when I was at Habiganj, 25k ago, if you get my drift. At last I arrived and asked around for a hotel. I was taken to one and soon had a large crowd around me. Small hotels here only have signs in Bangla so it just a case of asking around. The hotel I had been shown to was the only one in town, a real dive, but I had no choice. Having brought all my kit up to the room it was time for a shower and once again I had to physically push people out of the room so that I could get changed. Once back in the room I could still hear the gaggle of people outside the door. Every now and then they would knock, then when I opened the door they would try to come in saying 'look, look', and I had to push them out again, clearly I am fascinating to them. I went out and managed to get away from them as I walked around the market and the mosque. When I stopped in a cafe to drink tea another crowd soon formed, some inside, some looking through the windows (photo). It was best to keep on the move, so I went for another walk but was soon picked up by the English speaking Government worker called Abdlqart and I became his prize pocession. After he had shown me around the village and taken me to a world heritage lake, it was just an ordinary lake but I made the right noises, he took me to the Press Club, a room where men just sit around and read the newspapers. I escaped to have dinner so we said farewell, but 5 minutes later he was there again, this time with a journalist who wanted to take me somewhere for an interview and photos. I said he could write what he liked about me but I was going nowhere, I had had enough attention for one day. In the end I went around the corner to a photo studio for a couple of photos, then retreated to my room. 5 minutes later there was a knock at the door, Abdlqart was there again, this time he had brought his nephew for a look, but I told him enough was enough. Further interuptions came from other people, roughly every 10 minutes, until I got annoyed with them, then they got the message.


7am the following morning Abdlqart was again at my room door, no peace for the wicked. I was away by 7:45, it is much more peaceful on the road. The days destination was Mymensingh, I didn't get there, I knew within 30 minutes I wouldn't as the narrow single tracked road turned to sand. Bridges had gone missing, which meant I had to keep skirting around watery bits to get across the narrowest bit. There was no traffic, surprise surprise, but I did meet a flock of ducks being herded the other way. The narrow sand track turned into just a couple of tyre marks across the grass, but I asked everybody I saw the direction to the next village and they confirmed I was heading in the right direction. It was great riding though, but so slow that I regretted leaving my tent in Dhaka. At last I arrived at Ajmirghat where I stopped for a bite to eat. Once in the cafe I was mobbed again and as I left I was greeted by a mass of about 100 people around my bike. I stopped on the step amd said `Wow!`, 100 voice laughing and saying `Wow` in return. The weather was looking threatening. I couldn't find the right way out of the village, but the wind was picking up and it started to rain so I went back and was offered refuge in a small book shop, where at least I had a few feet between me and the mob. Here I met a guy who could speak English. He told me that my road to Mymensingh didn't exist and there was no way of getting there, but he gave me precise directions on how to get to Kishorganj, so once the rain had stopped I decided to follow his advice. The first part was a river crossing by a little ferry, big enough for my bike and 3 people. Once across that it was back on sand tracks, over various rickety bamboo bridges (photo), then onto what were no more than footpaths to the next villages. Once through there I was surprised to find a concrete road leading to Itna where I got another ferry, this time 14km downstream on a 2 hour ride. Cabin class was a bit cramped as when it started to rain, we had to crawl inside rather than sit on the roof. The heavens opened as a thunderstorm set in, but it eased once I was back on dry land at Chamraghat. It didn't last long so I dived into a cafe as the next storm passed over. I set off again thankful to be on tarmac, wet sand would have been a nightmare. A few kilometres further along the narrow road was blocked. There was a muddy section of roadworks, the soil being made up of clay, being claggy and slippery so nothing could get through unless it had legs to assist it. I had to push the bike through, within minutes the back brakes disappearing in the sticky mud and soon after the back wheel stopping altogether. Once I was out of the roadworks I had to extract the mud from the brakes and mudgaurds with my hands. Thankfully I reached Kishoganj before the next storm started. There was a decent hotel there, but they wouldn't let me stay. I found a guy in the developing crowd that could speak a little English and once he had shown my passport to the receptionist and explained that the visa was in order I was allowed to stay. They were then very helpful, even cleaning my sandals of the claggy mud I had brought with me. The English speaking guy was an English teacher on a 3 day course so I was joined by him and 3 others for dinner. Earlier I had sat on my glasses and broken them during a power cut, so they took me to an optician and got them repaired.


The last few days have been on tarmac and pretty uneventful, until I arrived at a long bridge. They wouldn't let me cycle over it, I don't know why there were only the occasional buses crossing. I had to go to the office where I was questioned. `Why do you want to cross the bridge?` I know I shouldn't have said it but I just couldn't stop myself, so I said `to get to the other side`. `Why do you want to get to the other side?`, `I am going to Pabna`, `Why are you going to Pabna?`. I explained I was a cyclist and touring Bangladesh. `Ah, you are a tourist. Show me your papers`, `What papers? I don't have any, I have a passport`, `A passport is no good, I need papers that prove you are a tourist`, `I have a tourist visa how about that`, `That is no good, how about ID`, `I have no ID, I have a driving license`, `No I need ID, how can I be sure you are a tourist?`, `Well I am sat here in cycling gear and outside is my bike, fully laden with touring gear`, `But that doesn't prove you are a tourist`. I pointed out that whilst we sat here buses carry lots of people were crossing the bridge, why were they not being questioned? I eventually gave him my passport and showed him the visa that states tourist, then his mood changed and tea was brought and we chatted away for the next hour while I waited for a vehicle to arrive to take me over the bridge. The same thing happened yesterday at another bridge, but this time without the questioning.


Today has been mundain, an easy ride from Kushtia to Jessore, but my time in Bangladesh has been really good. It has been your constant enthusiasm for Bangladesh Mr Barlow, that has made me want to visit here, to experience for myself the things you have told me about the place. I have to admit I was a bit reluctant to come here after India, I thought it would be more of the same but worse. I would say they are very much poorer than the Indians, but they conduct themselves with dignity and are far cleaner, harder working and genuine people. It has been good fun, despite the fact that as such the sights here are hardly worth the effort, but the culture and the people, the way of life here have made it excellent. I also expected the roads to be clogged with traffic and polution, but they aren't as most traffic is the thousands of rickshaws that are everywhere and badly driven buses. If bus drivers drove like that at home, every one of them would be banned for dangerous driving. I am really glad to have come here, I thought I would be really glad to leave, but I wont be, I will take away good memories.


The building you mention Aoiffe, is the National Assembly. Construction was started pre 1970, but was halted by the war of Independance, eventually being completed in 1982. As modern buildings goes I really like it, but sadly couldn't get any closer to it for a proper look. There are few buildings in Bangledesh that stand out from the rest, but this one certainly does.

The weather here is just perfect for cycling, around 20 degrees over night, then reaching 30 during the day, with harldly any wind. My tan is coming back and the line on my wrist is visible where I wear my cycling mit.

Tomorrow I head off to Khulna, where I have to make a decision. I would love to take the Rocket from Khulna back to Dhaka. The Rocket is an old paddle boat that does the journey through the mangrove swamps and up the river delta in 24 hrs, but I don't know what days they depart on and I need to book in advance. The trouble is looking at the map the roads look very basic, which means quiet sand roads and I would really like to cycle it too. I can't do both. Time will tell.

njoyed

Day 270 - Sreemongal

Heading out of Dhaka was a doddle, far easier than getting in. I took Mahmud's advice and followed a road that was not marked on the map. It proved to be a good recommendation as it was a little road heading through villages and paddy fields. The drivers here have the same mentality as the Indians thoguh, because at a single track bridge they blocked both carriageways in both side so that nobody could get through. I just about managed to squeeze the bike through, but even that was tricky. I eventually had to join a main road to Bhairdar Bazar where I stopped the night, but the roads were quiet as very few people own cars leaving the highway for a few lorries, but mainly buses that will slow down for nothing. In the town I was struggling to find a hotel, but a couple of men helped and led me through a little alleyway where I had to force my bike past the goods spilling out from the stalls. The hotel was up some steps but I didn't even make it to reception before I was turned away as they didn't take foreigners. I was led to another, neither of which I would have found by myself as they had no signs in English. This one was down another little alley, but I was assured it was the next best place in town. I suppose I shouldn't complain as it had an attached loo and tap and was the cheapest hotel of the trip at 61p. But that is nothing to get excited about as it wasn't worth it! It was a little cell, no window, concrete floor, puke green walls to disguise the phlem running down the walls and the mosquitos and fleas were all in the price. But home is where the bike is and I just about managed to get that into the cell. I went for a wander, a strange place where pink sheep roam the streets. The town is on the bank of a river which effectively makes it a little port. News travels fast here and people of the river front knew that I had arrived by bike even though I hadn't ridden there. It also seems to be a transportation hub for rice as there were wholesalers in town and sacks of the stuff where being manually loaded on to wooden boats, being carried on the heads of both men and women. I was latched on to by a guy and when I stopped to take a photo of a man and a bunch of children no older than 5 crowded around he kicked out at them. I gave him a lecture and told him to go, but he kept following me. I made it clear that I wanted no more to do with him and he walked off laughing, so I called him back and gave him a far more aggressive lecture telling him that kicking childen was not a laughing matter. I know I come from a very different culture, but there is no excuse for kicking yougsters, especially if they aren't even yours.

Today was more paddy fields and rivers. Bangladesh is very much a nation dominated by water. In the rivers men fished with nets dropped into the water from bamboo poles and everywhere you looked you could see people working in the fields, and by heck they work hard here, the men being very fit and supple. Even with my new slim look they make me feel a slob. The scenery suddenly changed this afternoon as the paddy fields gave way to gently rolling hill and tea plantations. The roads were easy going weaving there way through the hills.

I keep learning a bit more about ettiquette here. Latest tricks are to gob out any bones straight on to the table, then when you have finished your dinner wash you hands by pouring your drinking water over them into the bowl you have just finished with. I feel a right snob eating rice with a spoon. I am messy enough with that let alone just using my right hand.

But so far I have liked Bangladesh, far cleaner than India and it seems less crowded. There are fewer people in the streets, but people everywher in the fields making a pee stopped nigh on impossible.

I am travelling light too, having left all of my camping gear back at the hotel in Dhaka as I have to return there. Weight was so much the consideration, I was more interested in saving a journey up and down all the steps of hotels for a load of things I wont even be using.

I am also getting used to being stared at. My every move is watched, waiters stand and watch me eat, people watch me take photos and are looking over my shoulders and hotel staff fill my room until I physically have to push them out when I want a bit of privacy as they seem to understand nothing else. Strangely enough though it doesn't bother me, I just carry on with what I am doing, as no harm is meant. On the whole people are friendly here but also very inquisitive.

Aoiffe, the windows without glas that you refer to are balconies with washing hanging from them, at least I think that is the one you are talking about.

Day 268 - Dhaka (Bangladesh)

My last day in Nepal was just spent doing a few odd jobs, one being a stint at the Post Office to send some bits home. Sonya and Aaldrik were doing the same so it was much easier with more than one. As with most things in Nepal, why have one person doing a job that takes just a few minutes when you can employ 10 and make it last an hour and 10 minutes. I was given a good send off on my last evening by 'Uncle' Mark from Australia, Sonya, Aaldrik and various others who joined our table from time to time. I consumed more alchohol that evening than I have done in a long time, but I still didn't drink much! I had breakfast with Sonya and Aaldrik before I left for the airport. It's always hard to leave people who have been such good campany, but we will keep in touch just in case our paths cross in the future.

There did turn out to be one very good advantage to flying out of Nepal and that was that I got to have a great view of Mount Everest (photo), or at least I assume it was as it was much higher than anything else around. The flight was straight forward enough, especially as there were only about 30 people on the flight. The worst part was the departure lounge, only one being used for all the flights. Details were on a screen that never changed the whole time I was there and boarding was done by somebody standing at the front and calling out the destination. At Dhaka it was very simple as we were the only incoming flight, so everything was really quick and I was on the road just one hour after landing and that included sorting the bike out.

The route into Dhaka was pretty simple and I was soon in for a few surprises as the road surfaces were really good and drivers even give way to you rather than just expecting you to get out of the way, bus drivers excepted. I checked into the Ramna Hotel, a much bigger place than I had expected. The floor numbering is a bit confusing. I have room 509 which is actually on the 7th floor, but is labelled as the fourth floor....strange. Once settled in I gave Mahmud a call and he said he would send his brother over the following day to help me with getting an air ticket to Yangon.

Mahfuz arrived soon after 9 and we took a rickshaw to the travel agent, which I would never have found on my own. Having agreed on the flight and the price I then had to go to get photocopies of the details of my passport plus copies of the Bangladesh and Myanmar visas, then on to the bank to cash in US dollars to get a certificate and Bangladesh Taka to make the final payment. It would have been far cheaper to get Taka from an ATM, but you have to go to the bank to get ripped off for the certificate. At last I had the ticket in my grubby mit and I can now relax for the rest of my time here. Hmm, can you really relax in the most densely populated country in the world, a country the size of England and Wales with the 8th largest population at 140 million, most of whom are all very inquisitive as they see very few foriegners, let alone tourists. The afternon was spent wandering around Old Dhaka and going down to the very hectic river at Sadarghat (photo). I stopped at a little cafe for lunch and my miming of a menu resulted in me being led to have my hands washed, oh well! I got lost in some back streets but found a ladder leading up to a textile market. Once in I was invited into a shop for tea, then shouted at for entering with my shoes on. It was a maze of stalls and took me quite a while to find my way out. People stopped me and asked questions, what is my name, country, age, marital status etc. They are all delighted and surprised when I tell them it is my first visit here, but lets face it, who would come here twice? On my first night here I got lucky with the menu at the restuarant as they had everything I ordered from the extensive menu, but on the second night it turned out that that was all they had, so I had the same again. I am back on meat too as there is very little for the vegetarian. Ettiquette isn't quite the same as at home. Knives and forks are out, belching and loud lip smacking are in. Actually most things that you would never do at home are in, playing with food with your fingers to make a nice mush, drinking the remaining liquid from a bowl to name a couple. But it is a great place for a hungry cyclist as once you have ordered a couple of dishes you keep getting free refills until you leave some is the dish. If you emtpy your dish you just get more and more. I guess they would stop if I threw up, may be I will give it a try.

Mahmud joined me at breakfast this morning. Curry and fresh chillies is not my first choice for breakfast, but the chillies wake you up quick enough, phwooor!! Mahmud gave the low down on a good route to cycle around the country, some of which involved going on roads not even marked on my map. Once he left I went out for a bike ride as the sights here are pretty out. I am back in the muslim world so being a Friday the streets have free moving traffic and cycling around has been a pleasure. Most traffic consists of the wonderfully decorated rickshaws, of which there are said to be about 600,000 of in Dhaka alone.

Thats about it for now. This evening I am off out to eat with Mahmud and a cycling friend of his so I will see if I can eat something different tonight.

Oh, I discoverd I had a puncture, a very slow one that when I repaired it I couldn't even see the hole. I discovered whilst I was in the hotel and it could have happened in either Kathmandu or here in Dhaka it is that slow. It's the first puncture since Dubai, 4919 km ago, so I can't complain.

Day 264 - Kathmandu

Well I have been in Kahmandu almost a week now, but it has been an immensely frustrating time. It is the end of the road here, I have to fly into Bangladesh as the roads borders are closed, apparently due to bird flu. Getting a flight should be easy enough after all its not that far away, but it isn't. In theory I need an onward ticket out of Bangladesh before I am allowed in, and that is where the problem lies. I now have a visa for Myanmar, that bit was really easy, far easier than expected, so the obvious thing is to get an onward flight to Yangon (Rangoon). Unfortunately there are no direct flights between Bangladesh and Myanmar, so the easiest way is via Bangkok, but nobody here can arrange a flight from Bangkok. Getting to Bangkok is not a problem, but I really dont want the hassle of collecting the bike heading into town, arranging another flight, then heading back to the airport. There are other problems too. The flight to Yangon is very expensive for the shortish trip, the power seems to be off more often than it is on, making booking anything or checking flights an impossible task. Added to that I cant book online with the airlines in this area and I know more about the route now than the agents. They tell me one thing which I tell them is not possible, and when I return the following day when there is power they "oh yeah, you are right. But there was a flight on the route yesterday, but it is not showing today".

To make things worse I also need dollars cash for Myanmar as there are no ATMs there and they don't change travellers checks, pretty much the same as Iran. Unfortunately the banks here wont give me US dollars so I have had to raid the cash machines and get rupees exchanged for dollars.

I have managed to a little bit of sight seeing around Kathmandu and Patan (photo) which is really just a suburb of Kathmandu. The main squares are fantastic, crammed full of temples of all sizes that make the place feel really exotic. Wandering the back streets reveal little alleyways that open out to squares with more temples and stupas.

It has also been very sociable here. I have been staying at the Yellow House Guest House and my plan to stay a week makes me one of the short termers. The longest has been here 3 months and most seems to be here for a few weeks. I have enjoyed the company of Aaldrik and he has had to take me letting off steam each evening as I fill him in with the details of my frustration of flight arrangements, Sonya having gone to Varanasi in India for a few days. He has been useful to talk to and has come up with ideas and suggestions which have been very useful. The people staying at the Guest House fall into two groups, the French speakers and the English speakers, but there is a bit of a cross over. It's good though, no matter what time of day you are there, there is always somebody to have a chat to making it hard to get away at times.

I have even taken my bike into a bike shop here, Dawn till Dusk being a well known stop here amongst the long distance cyclists. My gears haven't been exactly smooth on gear change for a while so I got the very knowledgable guy there to have a look. He replaced a piece of bent plastic that the cable passes through at the gear changer that was restricting movement, carefully straightened the cable, oiled it all and reset the gears. It took him about 25 minutes and he didn't charge me a single rupee. Gear change is now perfect and feels wonderful. I had just got used to it over time and hadn't realised how bad it had got.

Well after 5 days of chasing around travel agents and airline offices and still not being able to get a firm answer of whether I need an onward ticket, I took the risk and bought a one-way ticket to Dhaka. I suspect it is officially a requirement, but something that never gets checked. I know for a fact that it's even more complicated getting a ticket in Dhaka as you don't pay the agent but have to go to a bank and pay the money in and return to them with a certificate. Aint life complicated? Thankfully I have a contact in Dhaka who I have just met through forum pages on the internet and he is going to arrange the ticket and he assures me I will be able to pick the ticket up the day after I arrive. When I am in Dhaka I will get in touch with him and we will have a tea together.

Today has been a good day, the first day that I haven't been chasing around for something or other. Ali, Sonya, a German girl whose name I keep forgetting, and I went out into the valley for a bike ride. Kathmandu is a bit of a sprawl, but its not a massive city so it doesn't take too long to get out into the fields. Before long we were heading for the mountains, but took a loop back along a rough track, which at times turned into grass at the edge of a field. I was mighty thankful that it hadn't rained recently otherwise it would have been a quagmire. To start with we could just see the tops of the high mountians, but as time went by it cleared and we had much better views, though on a totally clear day it would have been fantastic. The company was good and it made a nice change to get out of the city. Later in the afternoon we split up as I wanted to go to the temples and cremation ghats at Pashupatinath and the big stupa at Bodhnath (photo). At various sights they are all too keen to relieve you of your cash when really they are pubic thoroughfares, but they aren't exactly tight on entry as there is normally only the main entrance manned, so a short walk around to a different entrance and you can walk around for free. I don't feel guilty about it as in Durbar Square in Kathmandu cars, bikes, locals just pass straight through as there is a road through the middle and at Bodhnath there are shops hotels and cafe once through the 'entrance'.

Overall I have really liked and enjoyed Kathmandu. It's a very manageable size, some of the backstreets and squares are delightful and somewhat rustic, and I just love the stupas, but they would be even better without all the gift shops, afterall they are religeous sites. The company at the Guest House has been great too, there is always somebody to talk to. Once again I shall be sorry to say goodbye to Ali and Sonya. Today has been the only day I have cycled with them but I am sure we would have got on well if we had travelled together.

So I depart for Dhaka, Bangladesh on Wednesday at 12:15. I am not looking forward to the hassle of the flight, but I am looking forward to a new country and environment and the challenges that it brings, and I really do expect them to be challenges in Bangadesh.

Day 258 - Kathmandu

Pokhara felt a bit of a waste of time. The first day I decided to chill out, wander down the main Lakeside street and see all the luxuries available that haven't been there for so long. I even had a pizza which I had been craving for since I was ill and just wanted simple foods. I took a boat out to the island where there is a small temple and generally enjoyed the nice weather and surroundings and looked at the mountains. The second day was to be sent climbing another 800m above Pokhara to a ridge that gives unobstructed views of the Himalayas, but when I got up early the cloud covered most of them, so I delayed my start and had a relaxed breakfast and after that only the tip of one of them was visible, and that went soon after too. I decided I didn't need to climb so high for an obstructed view of the clouds, afterall had had seen the inside of one a couple of days ago in Tansen. So I went to the 'Bat Cave' instead, where as I entered I met a large American woman waiting for her husband to come out of the alternative very narrow exit. I descended into the cave with my torch, through a smallish hole into the main cavern where sure enough there were thousands of Horseshow Bats hanging from the top of the cavern. I almost expect one to drop off and land on me. I could see lights from the direction of the narrow exit and before long they all passed me having given up and I was left in the cave all on my own. I switched my lights off, then closed my eyes as tight as possible, then opened them as wide as possible and I couldn't tell the difference. We are talking dark. On exiting through the way I went in, I met the American husband who matched the size of his wife. "I bet you didn't get through that little hole" I thought. I was right.

The following day I was paying just before leaving the hotel at 7:15. There was a low mist and I couldn't even see the nearby hills let alone the mountains and the rain was settling in nicely. The guy at reception said it would be like this the whole day as there was no wind and suggested I should stay another day. Being somebody that does not give in easily once my mind is set, I wet back to bed! When I got up the rain had stopped but I still couldn't see any hills and it had seemed a bit silly to me to cycle through the wonderful landscape and not see anything of it. As I had breakfast it rained again and that was the theme for the day, so I didn't do alot apart from wandering around the book shops and drinking tea and coffee. A waste of a day, but surely the weather would be better the next day.
With the simple life, the low season and a lack of electricity the night life is not great here, consequently I read a reasonable amount. Whilst I am happy to look in bookshops I never buy anything, I prefer to exchange, normally at hostels, lodges, hotels etc. The thing I like about that is that the selection is not so good and I am forced to read books that I would normally never choose, I have even read a few novels recently. I have just aquired 'Angela's Ashes' but I need to read it quickly as it is a big heavy edition. I now have 3 books so that I don't run out of material before I get another chance to exchange, also it stops me dashing up the hills too quickly. Talking of Angela`s Ashes, it has made me think. He had a tough time of his youth in New York and Ireland, but taking nothing away from his hardships, what I see around me everyday here is very similar. The photos of the 2 little children are pretty much as I would have imagined him and his brother.

The following day didn't dawn much better, but at least it wasn't raining, so I was going come what may. The route out of Pokhara was like the weather, dismal, but at least I was on the move, even if I couldn't see any mountains. I had decided to take the short route along the main road to Kathmandu, as there was no point taking the longer route over a high pass just to see more clouds. My map was wrong again as the 92k to the turn off to Bandipur was in fact 71k, so I arrived much earlier than expect. I was told that there was a 600m climb off the main road up to Bandipur in 8km, that's steep I thought, they must be wrong, but after slogging up it for an hour and a half I can confirm that they were spot on. The weather improved greatly in the afternoon, it was still hazy, but at least I had a bit of a view heading up the climb. Bandipur is a very rustic little town sat on a ride top. There is no traffic there as its difficult even for bike with a few steep steps needing to be negotiated. I checked in at a very 'rustic' Guest House, complete with wooden floors, steps and tiny balcony looking down the valley, and after a days cycling you cant beat a freezing cold shower! The whole village is rustic, lovely old wooden houses, kids playing the the traffic free street, and wonderful views of the nearby mountains and more clouds.

The next day was clear, at least it was at Bandipur, but the mountains beyond were still obscured by mist and as I dropped back down the same road back to the main road I descended into cloud, lovely cold cloud. Back on the main drag the weather wasn't much better, but I felt better in myself and decided not to stick to the main road, but take the longer route south to the Terai, then east to Sauraha and Chitwan National Park. The road south rolled alongside a large river (photo) and would have been fanastic if it had been clear, but it was still good. Sauraha is across the river from the National Park, but everything there was expensive, so being a cheapskate I didn't go in but satisfied my self with a cycle down the rough track to the Elephant Breeding Centre which involved a little punted boat across another river. The elephants where just returning from a days work/training and evidence of its success was obvious from the number of babies about. They were allowed to run loose and terrorised the kids there, in there search for biscuits which soon appeared. 'Lights out' has now increased to 2 blocks of 4 hours, yippee! At least it was a couple of degrees warmer here as it is back at seaish level, but I still live in a jacket and a hat.

The following day I waited around for the elephants bath time at the river, a bit of a disappointment as there were only 4. Entertainment was provided by the tourists that went in to sit on the elephants and get showered from their trunks. They had also been trained to shake their back and deposited them in the river. The ride in the afternoon was flat all the way to Hetauda, a largish town, which felt really strange after all the little places I had stayed in.
I was awake early the following morning, probably aprehensive of the climb into the mountains ahead of me, climbing from 420m to 2488. After 10k I reached the first village and had assumed I had climbed about 300m but was really depressed to discover I was only 150m higher than Hetauda, it was going to be a long day. I wasn't long before visibility was reduced to not a lot. I then hit the school run, literally. As I climbed kids ran along beside me and I picked up more the further I went. If it wasn't tough enough already they made it harder by hanging on the back or pushing down on the brake levers. I was somewhat relieved when I saw the school ahead, but it soon turned to disappointment as they kept on running past it. They were getting a bit excited so I rather encouraged them to head back to school. From there I could see just far enough to see the road zig zagging up the mountain, it was a long time before that village disappeared from sight. I later stopped at a village cafe and had tea and a snack where I met some students on motorcycles. I was asked the usual questions, was I married, how many children, how old was I. When I told them my age I said I was papa, but they said no no, papas papa. That made me feel really good but in a country where the average age is just 20, that is probably about right. The road carried on winding its way up, houses being few and far between and the temperature dropping, so I stopped and put another layer on and ate at the same time. Soon after I had a rough patch and decided to throw more food at the problem, a spicey snack which was salty and biscuits and that seemed to so the trick. I was heading for Daman but still had no idea how far it was, then I realised the kilometre stones were to the village at the top of the pass. That seemed to made it tougher, but it was all in the mind. At last I came out of the top of the murk and the sun shone and I soon began to warm up and to make it worse I could see the road further ahead way up the mountain. But at last I made it to the top where I stopped for another tea. It had been a climb on 2180m over 52k, taken 6 hours 20 minutes and I had used 4800 calories, sometimes I even bore myself you know. It was cold at the top but got even colder on the north facing descent but thankfully it was only another 3k to Daman.I checked into another basic hotel, where there was one little hand basin to serve everybody, guests, family and kitchen. Good, I couldn't face a cold shower, I was shivvering already. After I had changed I went down to the view point for a wonderful view of the clouds. The only place to eat was at the hotel and having seen the kitchen I didn't really relish it but I needed to replace some of those calories. Mother brought over the rice and veg I had ordered and sat very close with her arm around me which made all the other women there laugh, but she soon scooted laughing off as 2 men walked in. She returned after a while and did the same which didn't bother me that much as I was far more concerned about all the other women that had gathered around and were sneezing over my dinner, yum, yum, extra calories. It was cold during the evening as the clouds cleared and I could see the stars. The ground was crisp and there was likely to be a frost. It dropped to 5 degrees in my room and I sat on my bed and read a book with my jacket, hat and gloves on and a duvet over the lot.

Yesterday dawned bright and clear, an almost perfect day and at last I could see the Himalayas layed out in front of me, that really lifted my spirits and made the wasted day in Pokhara worth while. I was very cautious on the 9k of steep descent at the start as there were odd bits of ice about. The after a few undulations there was another 7km climb which my legs really weren't interested in. At the top of that there was another fantastic vista across to the high mountains again and I could see the road twisting way down the mountainside miles ahead. I started a 30k descent to the main road and a bus passed as I stopped to take photos. I kept catching it and then losing it as I took more photos. The descent was slow, twisty and bumpy the whole way, but what a delight it had been the whole way from Hetauda, on a traffic free single tracked road, bliss. At the town at the bottom I refueled and got talking to a man who had been on the bus and had been tracking my progress down the hill. Back on the main road it was terrible, lots or lorries and buses, but the worst of it was the road surface, it was awful the whole way up a another 12k climb, great patches of road had disintergrated and I either had to skirt around them or squeeze through on a thin strip on the inside with drops just inches away, hoping the trucks wouldn't come too close to me. It wasn't long before I was heading down into Kathmandu valley. The city is busy for Nepal, but its not that big and it didn't take me long to find the Guest House recommended by Judith and Andre. Before I could even go in I was accosted by an Aussie nutter. I could tell he was a nutter before he even spoke. He was dressed very strangely, but I couldn't take my eyes off the playing card held on to his jacket with coloured clothes pegs. He said I was bonkers to be cycling in Nepal and as he talked he got louder and louder. He told me his unlikely name, which I have forgotten already, but said he was the richest man in the world and was going to bring down the pound sterling. As I was wondering how I was going to get away from him, when I saw Aldrick walking up the street. He and Sonya are the 2 cyclists we met in Agra. They were in the Guest House opposite so I checked in there instead. I had hoped to find them in Kathmandu by email as I guessed they would still be here but I didn't expect to find them that easily. Whilst stood there another cyclist introduced himself to me, Andreas from Germany and he had met Judith and Andre at Chitwan. It's a small world. So I now have a decent little room here, but it is freezing cold in there, it's warmer outside. I expect to be here about a week while I sight see, head into the valley and sort out flights etc. S and A have a flight booked to Malaysia and will then head back up to Bangkok. They too are fed up with to cold. 5 degrees might not sound cold to you back home, but you all have central heating. Central heating here is an open fire outside in a metal container with a group of people huddled around it trying to get warm. Even with jacket and hat on its hard to get warmed up in the evenings. I spent the evening chatting away to S & A, comparing notes as they, J & A and I had all taken exactly the same route through Nepal, not that there is a lot of cloice mind. They had met up again with J & A in Pokhara after they had come back from a trek.

Today I decided to try my luck at the Myanmar Embassy. It took an age to find. It was only a few hundred metres from where it was marked on the map but everybody I asked said they didn't know where it was, or sent me off in different directions, but perseverance paid off. As I head off for a visa I always think of packed chaotic consolates, trying to find forms and information, getting photocopied done etc, but this one was great. I was the only one there and I just sat at a desk with and official and filled out the forms with his help. There were some tricky questions like, the colour of my hair, I wish, the colour of my eyes, which I didn't know the answer to so I asked him and he just laughed so I just put brown. I paid my $20, gave him 4 photos (what a waste!) and was told to pick it up at 3pm on Friday. Excellent. It was down hill all the way there, but strangely enough down hill all the way back too, so it just goes to show what a difference no baggage or mountains makes. I spent the rest of the day wandering around the Thamel district of Kathmandu, a bit like Pokhara Lakeside with hotels, guest houses, gift shops, book shops, travel agents, internet cafes etc. I know need more maps, books and air tickets. Oh to be able to cross those borders by bike, wouldn't life be a doddle. I heard on the news recently that the India - Pakistan border is shut because of bird flu, may be that's why they told me I had to fly.

Every bus that passes here has people sitting on top, they must be absolutely bloody freezing! I read in the paper this morning about a bus accident that killed 7 and injured 60, it was travelling full shall we say. It was carrying 70 more than its legal limit. The headline was "7 die and 60 injured in bus mishap" Mishap! That's a bit of an understatement.

I have just topped 16,000km, that's 10,000 of those strange English things. I am sure it shouldn't have been that far to Kathmandu, so I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.

I suffered from a tooth ache a couple of days ago. I think it was the same tooth as I had some work done on when I was in Dubai, but I really don't fancy a dentist going anywhere near it in this part of the world. I noticed there is a monument to the Toothache God here, so I will go and pay it a visit, it's probably cheaper too.

Day 250 - Pokhara

Oh its refreshing to be in Nepal.

I set off from Mahendranager in the western Terai which is very flat and agricultural, just south of the Himalayas and really only a few kilometres from India, but it is a world apart. It is a very poor country for a start and life here is very basic, I never expected it to make India look wealthy by comparison. But the cycling was just wonderful as there was nothing on the roads apart from a few pedestrians and cyclists, very peaceful. All the young wave and call out "bye bye", blimey, I have only just arrived. Progress was much quicker than I expected too. I worked out roughly where my stops would be based on the distances stated on the map, but they are way out, so I reached Lumbini with 2 days in hand. The map is double sided and has an overlap and even the distances on either side dont match. One section I will be travelling on is 73k on one side and 133k on the other. That makes the kilometre stones really important to me, but to start with they were useless as the Nepali numbers are different to ours, but I got somebody to write them out for me, so now I have learnt them the stones are once again very useful.

Being a non tourist area I had no idea where I would find a room, but I have always been lucky, not that they are easy to find as some only have Nepali signs, but by asking around I am normally pointed in the right dirction. But accommodation is very basic too, but so long as it is reasonably clean I like it that way. Restaurants too are basic. When I say restaurants you can forget your waiter taking your coat and showing you to a laid table with wine glasses and table cloths, they are more thatched huts with just holes for doors and windows, long old wooden tables and wobbly wooden benches, the kitchen is normally at the front and the stoves fuelled by firewood causing wood smoke to come back into the restaurant and make your eyes sore. I try mot to look at the kitchen too much as I keep hearing myself saying "ooh, that's not very hygenic". Occasionally a goat will wander through and if it times it right it gets to lick the pots and pans clean, "ooh, that's not very hygenic!" The only similarity to home is the candle lights on the tables, but thats only because in the Terai the electricity is cut every evening between 5 and 8 pm. They sell their electricty to India and don't have enough for themselves. My headtorch has become invaluable and I never stray to far without it and always make sure I can find it.

I was latched onto by a student the other day and he showed me around the village school, which was empty at the time. He showed me a piece of paper that had all his exam marks on and at the top was his date of birth. I was somewhat surprised to see that he was born in 2046! I asked him who won the Grand National in 2008 as I wanted to put some money on it but he couldn't help me. It is now the 10th month of 2064, I think its the 12th with the date being written as 064/10/12.

I also have a new record for the number of people I have seen on a single motorcycle, 6. There was the rider, 2 little kids in front of him and another 3 behind. We should be doing that at home to save on fuel and traffic congestion.

Fuel prices have risen here recently and a couple of days ago I passed a protest against them that was blocking the road. They had set fire to some tyres and blocked the road causing massive tailbacks, 3 buses on one side and 2 lorries on the other. It all seemed very light hearted to me, less of a protest, more of a sing song around a camp fire. There have also been a number of army roadblocks too, aimed at combatting Moaist Rebels, but I am always let through with a smile.

Travelling through the Terai was a bit boring at time. On one day it was almost entirely through forest which reminded me of the New Forest. I was a bit concerned about the size of a poo I saw at the roadside. It would have been a bloody big cow that dropped that one and as I didn't know what was out there I didn't hang about to find out. After a few hours it became a bit of a drag and so I decided to see how many calories I used per kilometre, 25 at a steady rate on the flat. It was 40 into a headwind. Like all cyclists I hate a headwind but I shall now take comfort in the fact that at least I can eat more at the end of the day. On Friday I turned and headed into the mountains and I seemed to be using around 55, not that I was bored, the scenery was fantastic.

I stopped a couple of nights in Lumbini. The village is tiny but it is well known as it is the birth place of Buddha, a stone covering the exact spot. A large Developement Zone has built up around it and monastries from countries all over the world have been built. The Chinese one was like part of the Forbidden City and right opposite the Koreans are building one to surpass it. The most pristine and colourful one was German, and I didn't even know there were Buddists there. It was interesting to see them all with their cultures showing through in the designs, though there is alot of ongoing construction which made me compare it to Dubia. Sabastian, a Frenchman that I met in the evening said he thought it was a Buddists Disneyworld and I could see his point.

Saturday was spent in Tansen a hilltop town with a maze of steep cobbled streets. I chose the wrong day though as everything was closed on Saturday and the weather was bad too so no point going in the countryside to see the views of the mountains. I had a great view down the valley from the hotel I stayed at but at times you could see nothing, just white cloud. I ordered food in the hotel restuarant, they had a fine selection on the menu, but everything I chose was either not available or would take 1-2 hours to prepare. I only quick option was chowmein. Noodles seem to be their staple diet here along with rice. As I pass through little towns and villages I see a number of painted adverts on walls from various companies, my favourite being Shaka Laka Boom, which reminds me of a Saw Doctors song and starts me singing. On Saturday evening 17 cyclists turned up at the hotel, a group of Italians on a 2 week holiday, they had just come over from Lumbini, the same journey as I made the day before. Only a couple spoke English so conversation was limited, but they were also heading for Pokhara on Sunday. One of the women wore a Paris-Brest-Paris cycling shirt and she finished in time, some going as it was the wettest event for 30 years.

Sunday morning was just perfect. I have been staying in Hotel The White Lake (photo), so named after one of the valleys that can be seen from the hotel terrace. Each morning there is a low covering of cloud across it that make it look like a white lake, and it certainly did on Sunday morning, really beautiful. I set off at 7:30 for a long ride through the mountains and it was absolutely glorious and the scenery fantastic. I kept expecting the Italians to pass me as they were setting off at 8. I passed there support team at lunchtime preparing a meal for them. The afternoon scenery was not as good, but there was plenty of land terracing cascading down the hills like molten lava. It might not have been as good as in the morning, but it was never dull. With about 15k to go 4 of the Italians caught and passed me. The day had clouded over and it looked threatening. It proved not to be an empty threat as it soon started to rain, then turned to a hailstorm, I was going to get seriously wet and the first time it has rained whilst cycling since 28th August, whilst in central Turkey, so I can't complain. Thankfully there were only a few k to Pokhara, but I soon heard shouts from the Italians who had been sensible and stopped at a little cafe and soon they were filling me with tea and busciuts, so much better than getting bombarded by hail. About an hour later once the rain had stopped and all the others had regrouped we set off for Pokhara. I had no intention of staying with them as they would fill a hotel. Pokhara is a major trekking centre and is cram packed with hotels, lodges and guest houses, restaurants where tablecloths are in and goats are out, internet cafes, trekking shops, travel agents and gift shops. I made my way up a quiet street off the main drag to a guest house, it looked far too posh for me but I would check it out as a bench mark for others. It had large rooms spotlessly clean, crisp clean sheets, even a carpet, a really nice bathroom with hot water, pure luxury compared to what I have been used to this last couple of weeks, it even had comfy chairs on a terrace surrounded by well kept large pot plants and a well kept and attractive garden, but I couldn't believe the price, just 2 pounds. I couldn't turn it down, especially as I would be here for 3 nights.

I suppose I ought to let you know that I am now back to normal healthwise and my fitness has returned thankfully as I will be in the mountains for a while now. A cold is still hanging on though and occasionally I cough, but otherwise I am 100%.

Every now and then I am overcome by guilt for doing this trip. I felt it the other night as I lay on the bed in Tansen, feeling totally content in the basic room that has just a bed with a desk and chair, the roof being corragated. I think, should I really be doing this, checking into yet another hotel. Shouldn't I be at home looking to start a new career and trying to earn a bit of money. The other night I was reading my book be torchlight, the electricty went off at 5 came back at 8 for half an hour, never to return, when a quote leapt out at me. It a fascinating book about womens life in Iran before during and after the Islamic Revolution and it has really given me an insight into life there that I could never find out just by travelling through it, I just wish I had read it before I had been there rather than after. Anyway, the auther was quoting from a book by Henry James, Ambassadors, and it was as follows: "Live all you can: It's a mistake not to. It doesn't matter so much what you do in particular so long as you have your life. If you haven't had that, what HAVE you had?" Well it's pretty obvious to me that you can't always live the life you want to, I can't, I am not in control of my first choice, but as a second choice I think I have got it about right. I have no doubt that the guilt feeling will return many a time, but I shall remember that quote and try and live life to the full.


Tony, I have cycled up THAT hill once. I hate cycling down it as it is so long and steep I feel I wont be able to stop at the bottom, but I hate riding up it even more, far tougher than anything I have ridden on this trip I can asure you.

Oh, and I have managed to upload a number of Nepal photos for when you are looking for something to do!

Day 240 - Mahendranagar (Nepal)

Leaving Delhi was tough, even though I wanted to get out of the place, I think it had become to familiar and easy, even seeing a few western faces and talking to people in cafes made it feel like a home from home. But get away I did and finding my way out was really easy despite the lack of a map and any useful signposts, I suppose I just got lucky. I did have a distinct lack of energy though and it was all I could do to turn my legs, so I was thankful it was flat the whole way. The only 'hills' were flyovers and they reduced me to a crawl. I stopped at Hapur after just 67k. I had intended to go further but it became apparent very early on that I shouldn't go too far so I was sensible.

The following day I aimed for and got to Moradabed at 103k, I felt a little stronger and by the time I got there I had a tailwind and was fairly racing along, again flat the whole day.

Yesterday navigation proved to be interesting. I reached Rampur easily on the main road but needed to turn off on to a minor road. I think I turned too soon and ended up just following my compass through the busy bazaar streets of a town that was much bigger than I expected. I passed an area of butchers where meat was being hacked about in the open air. Thankfully I have become vegetarian for the last 2 months in India. I had meat about 3 times but each time I might as well have been eating veg as there was no meat in any of the dishes, just a pile of bones in a sauce. I eventually assumed I was on the right road as somewhere was 25k away, about right for Bilaspur, but Rudrapur was signposted as 40k away. I was on the right road but my 2 photographed maps showed different place names, Singh Nagar on one, Ramspur on the other, but when I got there it was in fact Radrapur. Lots of adverts by the roadside showed a modern city with new houses, cinemas and hotels, but it was just another decaying old town, may be I had just arrived a couple of years too soon! I reached Kitchha, signposted and on the maps, but then it all went wrong. I should have continued east to Sitarnagar, but there was no road going east, or at least it had been closed for some years. Roads heading north and south were definately not wanted. I asked and each time I was directed south then told to turn right, i.e. west, back the way I came. I ignored the advice and checked out all the other possibilities before giving up and following the locals advice. I ended up on a main road heading south, but it was the best of my options, then I at last reached a turning to Sitarnagar, so they had been right the whole time. Oh well! All that added quite a few kilometers on and I ended up going 123k, far further than I had wanted in my condition.

Today I made a short day, just 57k, then relaxed for the afternoon. My legs are feeling really stiff, like when you are unfit and then go running, and I still lack any real power in my legs. But today the main task was to cross the border into Nepal. I reached the Indian border town of Banbasa and expected to see buses and trucks crossing, but it was all most unconvincing as a little lane led away from the town, just used by bike and motorcycling. The route then crossed over a large river via a single tracked bridge and sluice gates. At the far side was an immigration office with one guy sat outide. I did the paper work and waited for him to do his official bit. Whilst I waited I ate a snack attracting the monkeys which he scared off from his neatly kept garden. I took over that job as I had encouraged them in the first place. Then there was a rough track and rough road leading into Nepal where I found their immigration post. I was the only person at both of them so passage was nice and quick. It was also the quickest and easiest visa I have obtained with the 3 guys there all very friendly and helpful and all too keen to relieve me of 20 pounds for a visa. That done I was on my way with a short stop at the bank, well little hut with a bank sign and a few rupees in cash, then about a 6km ride to Mahendranager, ridden with locals on either side chatting away to me, the first town with a good choice of hotels. Its too early to notice any real differences, but the changes are there but subtle. I have had a wander around town, nothing special, but lots and lots of bikes and very few motor vehicles...great.

I feel tired again today so I was glad of a shorter day and restful afternoon. It feels as though I am having to build my fitness from scratch. I am glad to inform you that I have no pictures of my new sleek looking body. Actually it doesn't look that sleek, more like a pile of old clothes with a had sticking out of the top!

And hello to you Blondebutbright. Now if we met in Chandigarh that narrows it down a bit. Your hair looks a bit too long for you to be Anthony, and I am guessing you don't have a beard so that rules out Narinder and anyway you are not wearing a brown turban. So that leaves Janelle and it looks as though your photo might have been taken at the Taj Mahal, but I am probably wrong. Its always good to hear that people are reading this trivial stuff. As I have said before, it makes it all the more worthwhile.

Day 236 - Delhi, still!

When I set off on this trip 7 months ago I was reasonably fit but somewhat over weight, as I had been for about the last 25 years. I had expected my body to change shape pretty rapidly, afterall it always changed due to weight loss even after one of my 3 week cycling holidays. But it never did change. I reached the Alps and thought "That'll sort it out"...nothing. I was a bit despondant but took consolation in the fact that I must be eating well and keeping in reasonable shape. Through the hills and mountains of Turkey I think I toned up a little, but before I entered Iran I teamed up with Judith and Andre and consequently put on weight. I think there were 3 reasons for that, I cycled less distance each day when I was with them, I cycled slower and finally Andre's excellent cooking and the quantity he cooked. So I put on weight, not that I complained, I had a great time in good company. But now when I stand infront of the mirror I am still amazed at just how different I look and how quickly it happened, but then a bit of illness always does have immediate impact. I don't know how much I weigh, but to me I look just puny, not an ounce of fat and my normally ill fitting clothes have room for 2 people, as well as me!


So I am on the mend, but weight doesn't seem to be coming back very quickly to me. Days are monotonous and repetative, but for some reason it doesn't really bother me. I still haven't strayed much more than a couple of hundred metres from the hotel and my days have been spent watching films and sport, on the internet, reading and socialising in cafes, it's not a bad life.
Having said that I am still looking forward to moving on. To be honest I have had enough of India and I feel a need a change. So what are my plans when at last I get away from this place. Originally I had intended to go to Calcutta via Varanasi, but that is a long way through Northern India, so I had decided to take the shortest route from Delhi to the Nepalese border. On reflection that has proved a good decision as with my prolonged spell here I don't know if I would have reached Calcutta before my Indian visa runs out. Before Christmas I aquired my visa for Bangladesh, that was fun. Visa applications are dealt with outside the main consulate at a little kiosk. When I eventually got to the front they said "You fly in", "No, I cycle in" I replied, "You fly in", "No, I cycle in", "You fly in", No, I cycle in, look, there is my bike over there, see", "Oh" he said and made a phone call. I was instructed to go inside where I was questioned about why I wanted to go there and the route I would take. I negotiated a 20 day visa as I was cycling as they normally only give 14 day visas. Excellent, sorted. No not excellent as when I picked it up I had 30 day but had to fly in and they wouldn't change it. They are strict on their borders and I know they wont let me in by road on my visa, still as least I wont need another Indian visa. So the upshot of all that is that I will be in Nepal 4 days after I leave Delhi, cycle to Kathmandu via Pokhara, then take a flight to Dhaka in Bangladesh, tour for 2 or 3 weeks then take another flight to Thailand, probably Bangkok. Easy!


On Sunday I ventured out on the bike for the first time, having done some maintenance the previous day. The new chain and cassette made the ride feel great, lovely and smooth. I also felt a sense of freedom and I suddenly realised I was singing as I rode along. People approached me, talked to me, begged, I was living again. A guy said something to me, aiming for a sell I guessed, "Pardon" I replied not catching what he said, oops, missed it the second time too, but on the third time it was loud and clear "I specialise in cleaning out ears", "No honest, I don't need mine doing, bye".


Well today is Monday and I am to push on tomorrow. My intention was a leisurely breakfast, then a bit of sight seeing on the bike that would have covered about 25km. The first part went well i.e. the breakfast but then I was overcome by apathy and just moved to another rooftop cafe, read a book and people watched for a while. Then I thought, is it apathy? To be honest I couldn't face the traffic, the constant squeeze at junctions (photo), the constant noise, what I really want is peace and solitude, fresh air, space and a quiet road leading into the mountains, leading into Nepal, tomorrow will be a new dawn. I have also thought about my time here in Delhi. I haven't done much, not strayed far as most of the time I couldn't, but it is the longest time I have spent anywhere, people in the hotel and in the streets recognise me, people at stalls I frequent say "see you tomorrow" and invariably they do. Delhi as unwittingly become the nearest thing I have to a home...crikey, it must be time to leave!


It's now 7pm. Normally at this time I feel as though I have an age ahead of me before I set off the following morning, but tonight is different, tomorrow morning feels so close. I don't know if I am ready but I am going anyway, if I don't move soon I feel I will become stuck here. I still don't feel physically strong, bu there I haven't done much exercise for the last 3 weeks so why should I?

So what of Caroline? Well she as last got to see a doctor on Friday, not that they could be bothered to come out mind you. She is now on medication and is making a very slow recovery. I feel somewhat bad about it to be honest, she has now been at home ill longer than she was out here with me. I wish her a speedy recovery.

All being well you wont hear from me for a while as it will bhe 3 or 4 days before I enter Nepal, then a good few days before I reach anywhere big anough to have an internet connection, but its flat for the first few days giving me time to build up a bit of strength before the mountains. See you soon.

Day 231 - Delhi again

First of all, it's a bit late, but happy New Year to you all.

Well it has to be said that the holiday wasn't entirely successful, but it was enjoyable. Just 12 hours before the arrival of Caroline I managed to a aquire a sore throat that was very painful and took hold very quickly, so that when she arrived I had an unwanted gift for her. Unfortunately she accepted it but it seemed to affect her far worse which she left to get to its peak on New Years Eve, then she mucked about with it, mashed it up and passed it back to me. We seem to be bouncing it between the pair of us getting worse each time.

But Caroline is a tough character and she didn't let it bother her too much so we managed to do a fair bit of walking around Old Delhi before taking cycle rickshaw to Raj Ghat, the spot where Gandi was cremated. She didn't go too much on the cycle rickhaw ride there though, I think she didn't take too kindly to going the wrong way down a busy dual carriageway, but I admit it takes a bit of getting used to.

We then had to get to Agra by public transport, something I had been dreading as it is so much easier at your own pace and time on a bike. We opted out of the 6am tourist buses, and then out of buses altogether as I didn't realise that Caroline suffered from travel sickness on them, nor did she fancy the crowds on the "black holes" as she called them and I have to agree it wouldn't have been exactly comfortable, so we aimed for the train station. These too are really busy but made easier for us by having a foreigner's booking office. There were lots of people sitting around but no queue, until we discovered the queue was sitting around and that it would take about one hour twenty minutes to reach the front. Still at least that gave us time to work out which train name and number we needed, then to find out that you cant go on that train as booking closes 4 hours before departure. So we ended up on the 17:30 train, but at least booked our onward journey from Agra, a 06:15 train, Caroline wasn't there so I had to make the decision and once again she took it well despite not relishing the prospect, not that I did either mind. We spent the rest of the day looking around New Delhi, spacious and relaxed compared to old Delhi, we even sat on the grass and enjoyed the sunshine for a while. The train journey itself was great. They are big trains, 20 carriages plus, and you have a coach number and seat number, made very easy to find as the coach numbers appear on electronic boards on the platform well before the train arrives, made slightly more confusing by the train turning up on a different platform. The train was going much further than we were so it was a sleeper with a bed each that converted into seat which meant just 4 people per compartment, we shared ours with Adam from Canada who had booked his seat a month ago, and Ankit from Delhi going to pick his wife and car up from the in-laws in Agra. It made for a sociable journey though Ankit painted a rosy picture of India. He was well educated and obviously had a very good job and said was surprised when we said he spoke good English. He said that all Indians did and that they nearly all had a car. Most Indians speak no English in my experience, very few as good as his and if all Indians had cars then the roads wouldn't be as congested and polluted as they are now because nothing would be able to move. A nice man though and as we left the station on a cold evening he was there waiting for us prouding holding his year old son who he had been telling us about and introducing us to his wife. We took an auto-rickshaw for the 9km ride to the hotel but the ventillation was just a bit too good for a cold night.

We changed rooms after the first night for one with a Taj view, a little way off, 600m or so, but still a classic view across the tree tops. The following day was Sunday, the Indian's day off and we walked past the Taj which had massive queues at the West Gate when I had seen none on my previous visit, they must have been 200-300m long so we were thankful we were heading for the Fort. The Fort was busy, but no queueing involved and far more interesting that the Red Fort in Delhi. There were wonderful pillar supported hall, palaces, and ornately covered quarters, added to that views along the river to the Taj. We then walked back to the Taj hoping the queues would have died down, not at all, the heavy traffic gave the game away and the queues were even longer. Having decided our stratergy over the next days we had to bite the bullet and go for it. The West Gate seemed to be where all the Indians came in on coaches, the East Gate had shorter queues of tourists from coaches, so we went through the little lanes to the South Gate which has a queue of about 20m, so we were soon being searched by security and in, until I was told to leave my bag behind in a locker room that closed 2 hours before the Taj did, then I had to queue again to be searched which took much longer, I wasn't best pleased as I only had an hour and 3/4 there. Once inside, yes it busy down the central paths, but the outer paths were empty. Leaving shoes and getting up to the next level was a bit more challenging, though once up you again had some space. The mosque was also wonderful, the beautiful architecture only spoilt by the addition of a very out of place electronic noticeboard. Time was running out so we tried to get up the steps to the Taj level, people going up and down the same staircase. It was a horrible struggle as it ground to a halt, people start to push. We inched our way up to find just a small gap at the top with the same happening on the other side from an identical staircase opposite. We could only get out by going on a small ledge with a tiny foot high railing to a drop straight back down, this is how disasters happen with crowds of people. Thankfully by the time we went down police had arrived and implemented a one way system giving easy access. We didn't get to see the tombs as we were running out of time, despite our attempts to go in the wrong way. It was then time to make a dash for the bag before the kiosk closed so I left Caroline to take her time. I enjoyed being there, its a wonderful place, but because of time I always felt rushed and on edge, I would have liked to and wandered around relaxed, reflecting on the place and taking more time with my photos, nevermind.

I don't know if I have got my dates right, but I think the following day was New Years Eve. Caroline had gone downhill health wise and had a fever so decided to stay in bed, but the plus side was that it was a great place to be ill and look out of the window at the Taj. After a trip to the pharmacist to buy anything that might be useful, also calling in at a herbal shop to see what they could offer. I bought a remedy for coughs ad cold and jar of honey for making hot drinks but declined his sales pitch on the remedy for hair loss. By the afternoon Caroline was feeling a bit better so was got a tuk-tuk to the baby taj, probably mentioned in an early posting, but a lovely peaceful place and a fantastic little building with serene gardens where we sat and relaxed a while in the sunshine. Its construction was completed just 30 years before contruction started on the Taj and whilst different you can certainly see alot of similarities in it. I suspect Old Money Bags who had the Taj built for his 2nd wife who died during childbirth of their 14th child said to his architect "I want one like that, only bigger, MUCH bigger...and better. I've got wads of cash just burning a whole in my pocket". We returned to the hotel to watch the sunset for the final time of 2007 from the hotel rooftop, through sadly not behind the Taj. Entertainment was provided from the very posh Hotel Amas Vilas next door, for too posh for me with prices from $500-2400, but the entertainment was missed by those within. They employed somebody to keep pigeons of the roof, his only tool a flag on a long pole. He wasn't you average Indian though, he was really up for the task in had and having seen him I would employ him. I would have employed that last pigeon as well mind you as there was a long lasting battle of wits between man a very persistant bird. He would chase it off, then it would do a lap or two, land else where, only for our intrepid hero to come running along to see it off again, and so it continued for over 30 minutes. Sometimes it would land below the rooftop but he would track it down and the game continued, great to watch and all for free. Caroline was feeling rough again so we had a early night but a bit wasted as very loud music was being played from across the road. When I went to see what a great party it was there were all of about 6 people there! I settled down knowing I would get much sleep but 2 minutes later I was fast asleep, not even woken by the fireworks!

The New Year started early, too early, 4:45 to be exact to catch that 6:15 train, which was not feeling such a good idea now. By 5:30 we were in reception and our ordered taxi was waiting for us to whisk us through the empty street to the packed railway station. There must be a mistake, it says on the board that it departs at 8:55. I checked, it wasn't a mistake, just very late. Great. We had got up early when Caroline needed rest, not that she had slept much, and skipped breakfast to sit on a cold unwelcoming platform for 3 hours. How is that that I have to rush around the Taj yet have as much time as I would possibly desire at this place. We tried to make the most of it by having hot tea and talking the time away, then after about an hour and a half I discovered a waiting room which was a bit warmer, then our departure put back to 9:15 then 9:30. At 8am we went for a walk to get warmed up and outside was once again buzzing. We got back to find at 8:45 to find it was still scheduled for 9:30 but when I wasn't looking they put it back to 9:45, then 10. We seemed to constantly have 45 minutes to wait, they were just teasing us a sort of "please don't go it will be here in a minute". Finally it went back to 10:10 and they even announced that it was incoming so we stood be our coach number, but still it didn't arrive. At last to turned up at 10:25 but its 5 min stop turned out to be 20 minutes so at 10:45 we had been waiting 5 hours, oh joy. But at least it was another sleeper and Caroline made the most of it and got a little rest as there was nobody with us. We arrived at Jaipur at 15:20, longer than scheduled, so it was slipping further and further back. We were both tired so we just rested making the most of the nice relaxing rooftop area covered in pot plants.

The following day Caroline had picked up somewhat despite another restless night and we got out to see the Pink City as it is called, vistiting a good tower for some wonderful views, the city palace and Jatar Mantar and area full of large astrological instruments, really interesting but impossible to understand and therefore to explain to you. We saw one in Delhi to but the instruments were far bigger than here and had become little more than a kids playground. During the night it was my turn to go downhill. Whilst I was lying down I didn't feel I wasn't right but I needed the loo. I sat up and felt worse, stood up and felt worse still but thought I could make it, I couldn't. I couldn't work out where I was going and felt very faint and found a wall to hang on to and asked for the light to be turned on. I remember nothing for the next few seconds but it felt like an age then I heard "John, are you alright", "I need the light turned on" I said and was surprised of the answer "It is". Then things became clearer and I made it to the loo and slowly recovered enough for the return journey. The following day was pretty much a write off.

Just ordering breakfast and heading up to the rooftop made me feel a little feint so I was relieved to sit down. Caroline was feeling reasonable but there was no real chance of doing any site seeing. Having been given a web address for the online booking of train tickets I used the internet in the Guest House to try and book them. What a stange site it was too! Sure enough it was for Indian train booking but the sub menu gave about 6 option, all of which sounded like the one I need such as "e-train ticket", "train reservation" etc, but go into any of these and the best I could get out of it was to book a flight. Finding a wife was another option, so whats that got to do with trains. On reflection perhaps I should have given it a go. So we had the only option of going back to the train station and fighting the masses. I did my best at queueing but was struggling to stand up so good old Caroline queued whilst I sat down. Once we had our train details, 05:05 or 17:35, we had to queue again to get the ticket but at least there were seats right next to that queue. At last we got to the front and up went the Closed sign, deep joy, but thankfully only for a 15 minute shift handover. Once tickets were in hand we returned and relaxed in the sun on the roof. Caroline went downhill then and neither of us fancied eating out in the evening.

The following day we both felt rough. I had hoped we would both be on the mend and get the bus to Amber Fort, but none of it. All we could managed was a tuk-tuk to the Palace of the Winds and back, then just waiting for our evening train, a long wait. The train was not an overnighter so had ordinary seat. Once away we were given a litre of mineral water, a nice bonus. That was followed mango juice, a light snack, a flask of water to make tea, bread stick, soup, a very good full meal, yogurt and finally icecream. Caroline gave up early on but I boldly fought my way through the lot, and some of hers. It was 5 hours of eating.We got to New Delhi at 22:45 and had to fight through all the hassle of the tuk-tuk drivers in their bid to rip us off. We were both feeling rough and just needed to lie down and I was getting irritable with them but Caroline just told me to calm down, nothing seems to bother her, she seems to have embraced India better than I have.

Thankfully we both felt much better the following morning, the day for Caroline to return. There seemed a lot to due such as giving her all my unwanted things to take home, before we departed for the airport at 10:30. We said our farewells for the last time as distances will be too great now. As I left the airport building I was called back, "You can't leave the building" he said, "Why not I am not on a flight" I replied. I guessed I shouldn't have entered as he checked everybodies tickets and passports except mine, but I got away with it as I was carrying Caroline's rucksac. He got a bit stroppy and I thought he was going to send me off for questioning, "Who let you in?" he asked, "You did" I said which was true. That changed his mind for him he didn't want me to being questioned if I was going to tell them that he hadn't been doing his job properly, so he let me go. I enjoyed her being here, she is a great companion and a good person to travel with apart from the facts that she wont stay in crappy hotels that you have to at times and she doesn't ride a bike. Never was there a word of complaint, she is just great, but before she left she gave me her best parting shot of the bug we had been passing back and forth (I don't really blame her at all, it just sounds good). On the my return to the hotel the taxi driver who had been silent on the way out now let his personality flow to the extent that he was singing to me, thats no way to get a bigger tip in my opinion! I moved from my nice comfortable hotel to my cheap shabby hotel, back to reality. My bike had been in the clean and tidy reception area and had been cleaned before I left, but was now covered in a layer of dust. By about 5pm I could feel myself going downhill again, so I lay down. The only way I could stop myself coughing was to lie on my front and that is pretty much how I remained for the next 48 hours.

The night was long and tough, I felt very ill. I kept nodding off and having the same abstact dream over and over again. The were 2 sets of parallel lines forming a V shape. Between those line were grey circles or spheres to the right and pale red to the left. For some reason there seemed to be an Indian connection and they appeared to be route, the grey being the easier. I tried both constantly but never got top the end, all very strange. I felt slightly better during the day but couldnt even face watching the live FA Cup matches on the television, how bad is that? I remained very thirsty the whole time and just couldn't drink enough.

The following night wasn't quite so bad, but far from good. I got up to have a shower in the morning and looked in the mirror, but who the hell was that looking back at me. I looked terrible, no, even worse than usual. I looked incredibly thin, my stomach seemed to have fallen off since I last looked, my face was long drawn and thin, wrinked with big bags under the eyes and a dark red mucas on my lips, some of which had been deposited on my teeth. Even my hands look so thin, I didn't know they could do that! For the first time in my life I felt I needed to put on a little weight, if only to stop the trousers falling down. After a shower I called reception and asked for a doctor. Within minutes I was talking to one on the bedside phone and having told him my symptoms he said he would be around in half an hour, such a relief as I had expected to have to wait all day. Sure enough he was bang on time and after a brief checkup and gave me a variety of pills to be taken at various time of the day over the next five days, some had to be taken after food. He also gave me a perscription and told me there was a pharmacist around the corner but I told him there was no way I could get there, I had hardly enough strength to stand up, so he arrange for the hotel staff to sort it out. Once he left I ordered some porridge but could only manage a few spoonfuls, took my pills and lay on my stomach again. I don't know how long I slept but when I woke up the top half of my sheet and the whole of the pillow were covered in sweat, not just damp but sopping wet. There wasn't much point in drinking water I might as well have thrown it over the bed. I called room service and they changed the sheets. When they turned the mattress over the sweat had already reached the other side.

Yesterday I felt a lot better and got up for a few hours but have no strength what so ever and struggle to walk let alone go up the stairs. This thing has hit me hard this time that is for sure. I gave Caroline a quick call before she went to work to let her know I was ok, so imagine my surprise when I heard that she is suffering even worse than me and can't keep any liquids down. She called the doctor for the first time in years and they advised her over the phone but seem to have the attitude of "If you can not be bothered to come into the surgery, you casn't really be ill". Third World India with 1 billion people can manage it in 30 minutes and we even have a load of their doctors. Well done Britain!

Last night was slight worse. The number of blankets I used went in the sequnce of 1-2-3-2-1-0 in the space of 90 minutes as I froze then sweated it out. Today has been much the same as yesterday, sadly no improvement. I think this will take a while to get over, I could be in Delhi for some time.

A note for Audax cyclists reading this. Yesterday I enjoyed reading your comments and reports on the Poor Student from last weekend, it brought me right back home to the countryside on my own doorstep and having ridden it a number of time I could relive it all again. But what is this ice thing that you all talk about? I can tell you it get down to a bone chilling 7 or 8 overnight here at the moment and struggles to make 23 during the day but I haven't seen any of this ice stuff that you talk about. I read that a number fell, so I hope your are all alright, well done to you all. I hope I don't meet such conditions on this trip.

Lorna, you say you have just caught up with the photos, but I have just put another 60 odd on there, sorry, but it keep you on your toes.

I will post again in a few days all being well, not that I will have much to report but it will let my family know that I am fine. And I am fine fine, if I wasn't I probably wouldn't have told you.