We rolled into Kathmandu at 5:15 p.m. January 14, 2008.3825 kilometers (2377 miles) in 14 days which put us 14th out of 64 teams. It was a fantastic journey and we would happily do it again.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
We Made It!
Thank You!
Thanks to all of you, we are able to contribute over $4700 to Mercy Corps India. Your Rickshaw Fresheners were an inspiration!
Mountain Driving
Our last day behind the wheel was our best day. Our one lane road climbed through steep foothills and tiny villages. It was tricky driving, but in a fun way and we stopped often to take in the views. It was the perfect finish.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Across the Border
It’s just a line on a map, but change was quickly apparent as we crossed into Nepal. Nepal feels less formal than India. It was not a problem that we did not have passport photos for our Nepal visa application and the hotels wave us in without the lengthy document production routine we found in India. The border magically reduced temperatures—we’re cold, especially the guy in the backseat where the wind swirls.Road conditions (on the National Highway anyway) are better and there is little traffic, which is another way of saying slow economic development. Gas stations are scarce and our drive yesterday was entirely rural. The well-equipped soldiers of the large military presence wave at us as they wait for the Maoists. Nepal is a case of large military expenditures contributing to the cycle of poverty. Our first night in Nepal we stayed in Damak, where Mercy Corps plans to work with People Living with HIV/AIDS. Poor and depressing, it’s no wonder a majority of the PLHA are former injecting drug users. Kathmandu is just around the corner.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Bird Sanctuary
Arriving in Raijanj we thought we were on the outskirts when the town suddenly ended. We asked for a hotel and ended up at a Government Tourist Bird Sanctuary Lodge, a peaceful place with a beautiful flower garden and woke up to chirping birds. As the only guests, we are treated like family, which made us miss our own. The big bonus for us was that we got to toss a happy hip baby girl around for the evening.
Borderlands
We are crawling north on the National Highway 34 in West Bengal along the Bangladesh border to the Nepal border near Siliguri. From the eastern outskirts of Kolkata we almost made it through the city without hassle, but got off too early from the “No Rickshaw Expressway” we greased our way on to, and landed in the heart of Kolkata. In my mind, besides Cairo, Kolkata has the most horrific driving conditions in the world. David cruised right through.
From Kolkata, we landed in Baharampur, not a spectacular day in kilometers but the traffic jams on the two lane pothole infested national highway slowed progress. The roads are obviously a problem for commerce. Road maintenance is part of the State and National budgets, so funds are obviously being funneled off to line government officials’ pockets. The towns up north are darker and poorer. Intermintent power and no street lights gives Baharampur a gloomy edge and the proximity to the border causes headaches. Bangladeshi citizens are flooding the rural towns here for a better life. We are now in Raijanj and will cross the border into Nepal for our final 600 kilometers to Kathmandu. We've been focused on the drive and sort of forgot that we will soon see an entirely new country and culture-- we can't wait to see Nepal.
Stalin's Smile
We were happy to finally have a chance to return a favor. Stalin needed a ride to the airport. Communism is alive and well here and that really is his name. Believe me, we confirmed.
"Stalin, right or left here?" "Hey Stalin, anybody in that lane behind us?" Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, but I used his name as much as possible nevertheless.
Stalin's eyes widened as cops waved us down. He's a bellboy at our Kolkata hotel and, in spite of his name, any interaction with authority deeply freaked him out. I thought he was going to bolt. We explained ourselves to the police and they happily waved us through with smiles and a thumbs-up. Stalin was all smiles himself until we were stopped again. This time, the authorities had clearly seen other teams and we didn't have to say a word-- big smiles and the gate to the forbidden highway opened.
Neither John nor I are really law and order guys, so this was just another day at the office for us. But Stalin's face was pure exhilaration as he cheered out loud.
Rules and bureaucracy soak everything here and in wildly inconsistent ways. Drive your rickshaw on the six-lane expressway? No problem. Tea at 6:30 a.m.? Absolutely not, sir. Tea is at 7:00, as stated on that sign. We were glad to give Stalin a little taste of the dark side.
After his ride with us, I like to think that Stalin rose the next morning to start a punk rock band with the first hit single "No Room For The Man In My Rickshaw."
The reality is probably that he just went back to work, but at least we gave him a really fun ride to the airport. And that's something I've never had.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
You Got to Have Faith
A puja was performed this morning for our Rickshaw as we set off for Calcutta. Steering wheel, hood, bumper, were all blessed by a Hindu priest, with special attention paid to the tires. Incense and flowers came with us on the road. Rickshaw eating potholes, highway diversions, traffic from all angles and a muffler repair complicated our day. We (Rickshaw, David, and Strick) survived and found a brilliant hotel (with more staff than patrons) next a toll booth on the outskirts of Calcutta at dusk.
A roadside hotel calmed the day’s biggest worry--motoring into the heart of Calcutta in darkness. Results are the bottom line. The puja was a big part of our day.
Relief
Yelling in the hallway. I opened my door to find this man, a follower of Sai Baba and a travelling masseuse. Great massage.
The Right Ratio
Thirty milliliters of oil to one liter of petrol. We take care to get the ratio just right, even when it requires doing some math. Care pays off-- we have had no engine problems (I hope you are all knocking wood right this second.) We are well beyond the required 1000 km engine break-in period so now 60 KmPH is the norm on smooth stretches of road. The speed is welcome, but yesterday it was hard to speed right by Bhubaneswar, knowing that there are over 500 4th Century BC temples scattered through the suburbs.
I'll be back, though. This place is too rich, huge, amazing to only visit once. And next time, no days of acclimatization will be needed. We can just jump in the nearest rickshaw and give the driver a break--I'll drive us to the temples.
"Weird. Hey man, you ever seen an abandoned toll booth before?"
Perhaps we should have taken the ghost toll booth as our first clue. I guess we weren't CC'd on the memo about rerouting the highway. Or maybe we just missed a detour sign...Anyway, it worked out, as it always does.
Virtual Tour?
Several map geeks have asked us to update our Google Map. We don’t have bandwidth in more ways than one. If you are really asking, as suspected, to assure that we are not kicking back at a 5 Star Kelara Beach Resort staging an India virtual tour, let it be known we have some regrets not thinking about that earlier!
Our progress by date by cities where we have slumbered:
- Jan 1st Kochi to Thrissur (Kelara)
- Jan 2nd Salem (Tamil Nadu)
- Jan 3rd Vellore (Tamil Nadu)
- Jan 4th Cuddapah (Andhra Pradesh)
- Jan 5th Ongole (Andhra Pradesh)
- Jan 6th Tuni (Andhra Pradesh)
- Jan 7th Palasa (Andhra Pradesh)-Andhra Pradesh started to feel and look like Texas
- Jan 8th Bhadrak (Orissa)
- Jan 9th Today we are off to the metropolis of Calcutta/Kolkata, West Bengal (380 kilometers)
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Strick's Glass is Half Full
Heavy padlocks outside every door, walls splattered with... with what?, fluorescent lights flickering with the intermittent electricity and a bug so big I didn't even want to kill it for fear of the mess. Our hotel in Tuni had all the charms of an asylum. Even after a long day on the road, a look at the bathroom told me that using it would mean a net loss in my cleanliness. I declined a shower.
John's only comment on our lodging: "Look at these high ceilings!"
He was right. The ceiling soared to a majestic height that would be enviable in any home. Love that guy, a perfect traveling partner.
Note: Don't judge Tuni by its lone hotel. We shared a great meal with Sharif and Fayaz who refined our eating-with-your-hand technique, went to the movies, shared a table & a beer with some guys in the back of the wine store and got a great shave. Great place.
Different Type of Tourism
We are seeing India through the lens of our rickshaw. Zen and the Art of Rickshaw Maintenance. Slowly clicking off kilometers. The cast of characters are the short interactions/relationships with fellow rickshaw drivers, gas station attendants, mechanics, hotel staff, fellow customers in restaurants, people we ask directions from, and the inquiring minds of crowds that surround our rickshaw when we stop. Receptions are full of warmth and curiosity. With 1.2 billion people (17% of the world’s population) to our surprise the landscape is vast and open, except the densely populated urban areas. We share the road with ox carts, water buffalo, dogs, goats, sacred cows, pigs, and ducks. It no longer shocks us when we see a whole family or three men on a motorcycle or a couple with the woman riding side saddle and only the man wearing a helmet. We see women in background doing a majority of the work, carrying water/firewood and working in the fields, but interactions with women are rare. Poverty. Everywhere. We are at about the halfway point and have picked up our pace as we have “mastered” our driving skills and understand the rules of the road. This is an experience everyone should have once in their life.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Language Skills Not Required
When we hit the large towns finding a hotel is a hurdle, as none of the cities are in our guide book and directions get confusing, “go about two furlongs that a right a little before the canal and the hotel is on the left.” So our strategy has been to hire a rickshaw and we follow it through the maze to a hotel. Each of the drivers has become our friend, helping tune our vehicle up, and taking us to get tires repaired. Membership in the Rickshaw Fraternity is enough to solidify our friendship, language not required. The next morning the same driver will show up early to leads out of town. All roads lead to Rome, but it not easy getting out of Dodge on the road to Kathmandu.
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