Agra to Khajuraho: Eat, Sleep, Ride and Reflect

After leaving Agra and seeing the incomparable Taj Mahal and Agra Fort, it seemed as if everything would be an anti-climax but quite to the contrary, partly to the cessation of the pulsing tooth and getting into a rhythm of the trip, its seems as if each day has its own uniqueness not the least of which is eating, sleeping, riding and having time to reflect on the marvels of the universe.

Within a few hours of riding from Agra, we left behind the heavy cloud of smoke and grime, so characteristic of large cities and the agglomeration that is an extension of New Delhi. To our delight, the temperature also warmed up, starting the day in the high single digits and reaching the mid-twenties quite rapidly, as the blue sky became the norm. Riding in glorious sunshine with a faint coolness in the air, is ideal for cyclists.

Even the traffic started to abate, obeying the gravitational model of traffic generation: the volume being directly related to the size of the cities and inversely related to the distance between them. After Agra only Gwalior and Jhansi were of any size, and soon thereafter, we left the four lane national highway, for the mostly quite two lane roads. Much has been said about the chaotic traffic in India, and certainly in the cities and at most cross roads, where people, animals and goods are transferred from wholesale to retail; from large buses to small tuk tuks, from trucks to small vans, it is noisy, dusty and with a fight for space seemingly disorderly. And yet, after a few days of riding, cyclists are the most nimble and despite our loads, we are able to navigate and like the locals, we too can fight for a fair share of the space. Although I have no musical talents, nor did I ever aspire to acquire any, at times in the heaviest of traffics jams, I think of the hapless concert master, on the first day of an orchestra’s rehearsal, full of head-strong musician: everyone knows the score, ie. the rules of the road, and yet wants to play the music their own way; in the midst of all the other players, I am humming the choral section of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, and while not a perfect rendition, it feels and sounds good.

One of the joys of riding and particularly being in India, is that it’s largely vegetarian, and after two and a half weeks, and riding about 700 kilometers, we still not have had any meat, and that the food is wonderful. Partly because of building up a healthy appetite, but mostly because of eating “authentically” on the street and on the roads, without menus, without a discussion of the degree of spiciness, no specifying of ingredients, (unlike the interminable ritual of order a coffee in the western world), there has not been a single meal which has not begun with both of us declaring “this is delicious”. There is the ubiquitous chai, hot, spicy and fragrant, an ounce of which is an energy booster, and at its best, from a chai wallah who takes pride in adding fresh ginger and boiling it long enough to meet an exacting standard. For breakfasts, potato stuffed parathas with thick yogurt-like curd have become our staples. For lunch, usually at a place where truckers stop, it’s a “tali”, meaning a complete meal of several dishes, (ie curries, dhal, aloo gobi, rice and tandoori baked breads), the best feature of which is that it’s an all you can eat affair, and we have a prodigious appetite and the food is offered and served with delight. Along the way pick up bunches of small bananas, tangerines and as fragrant guavas are in season, we buy them by the kilo. In the evenings, we have simple bread omelettes, full of spices, a simple soup or perhaps more breads, and in the touristy towns, it’s hard to resist pasta, which unlike in most places in North America, has not been siting pre-cooked, is freshly cook, el dente!

Accommodations have also been excellent ranging from staying in one of only eight rooms in the fortified palace in Orchha from the 1500s run by the Madhya Pradesh tourist department, where being the only guest were treated royally, to small guest houses along the way, where the staff to guest ratio is at least five to one. On a couple of nights, there being no heating available, we did benefit from having as many as six heavy blankets as the temperatures dipped to single digits: this and our mode of travel, the fact that we are not eating meat, is our contribution to lowering carbon emissions.

Beyond the basics, the riding, scenery and sights have been also great, such that between Orchha and Nowgong, we covered 110kms on the flat to rolling two lane country road, almost effortlessly. As in most parts of the world, where people still live off the land, it’s the people waving, smiling and greeting, who make the journey special.

As if great food, comfortable stays, and friendly people were not enough there is the ever present antiquity, which is barely if at all mentioned in our guidebooks, the focus of which are the star attractions. In Gwallior, we had a peak from a distance at a fort from a distance on top of a 300 foot hill as we rode into town. After a quick shower, and no lunch, we took a ride to the easterly gate, where a magnetic force seemed to draw us up a steep cobble-stoned ramp, through five different gates to ward off attackers, to the fort itself and various temples. Exiting by the western gate, we were once again full of “wows” as we marveled at the massive carvings directly into the stone face of the hill.

Between Gwalior and Datia, from a distance of about 10kms over the horizon, a series of spires loomed large and even though it was getting late in the day, we were drawn to Sonagira, well off the main road, with dozens of breath-taking temples dating back to the 1500s. Later that day, stopped at a small village cross-roads, peaking through an opening was the Datia Fort, eliciting more “wows” of excitement. To add to our delight the only guest house in the region had a recently remodeled room, with a clear view of the fort for us to admire in the rays of the near full moon, and a warm welcome from Israil Khan, who is from Kochin, who is a Muslim, but we could not help but imagine that at one time, his last name might have been Cohen?

We are now in Khajuraho, a small village with about 25 astonishing temples dating from 900 to 1100, reminiscent of Angkor Wat in style and period of construction. This was the place I initially found by accident and being one of the more remote World Heritage sites, held special attraction and allure. It being well of the beaten path also accounts for why so many of its delicate and intricate stone carvings have survived in excellent condition for more than a 1000 years. Although comprising only about 10% of the total, the most dramatic are the erotic carvings, some a meter in height, showing the range imagination that might make not only the ancients but some current visitors blush. To some they might give a new meaning to the term “hard-core” but above all the carvings illustrate a profound joy and love of life, a love of life that continues to permeate this Incredible India. Our life is simple in this land full of contrasts where appropriately the national flower is the beautiful lotus that can flourish under any, and often adverse conditions whose pedals are held together by central stem, perhaps like a divine force that unites all people of diverse religions and beliefs.

Namaste

Some selected photos

http://picasaweb.google.com/andras1944/ImagesOfIndia?authkey=Gv1sRgCI-P4pmW-ryfxAE#

Cycling 80 kms to the nearest dentist and monkey proofing in Agra

On day three we arrived in Vrindavan, the birth place of Hare Krishna, a spiritual center with 4000 temples. The town is like most things in India, a study in contrasts. From the ancient temples dating back to the 1500s with intricate carvings, falling into disrepair, to a new monstrous one being built by one man at a cost of about $300million, who according to a local fancies himself to be a god. The road approaching the town is beautifully paved and huge condo towers are sprouting in the fields, whereas the pilgrimage route around the town, is like a bumpy road in the desert, apparently the result of someone having forgotten that sewers are to be built before the road is constructed, hence all the digging and bedlam.

During our first morning, we meet Rasa, a professional musician, a warm, charismatic, Polish man with a calm presence, who lives in Shanghai, and was off to a music lesson but we agree to meet for dinner in the hotel, where he owns a unit, having intentions of perhaps living there on a full time basis. While touring the town with our bikes, I become more aware of a nagging tooth ache, which has progressed over the last few days, which I reluctantly decide will need attention.
At the information office of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness ISKCON, a very friendly person, while short on tourist info is most willing to help with finding an endodontist in Agra, some 80 kms away. The prospect of going back to Delhi, and having to retrace our route and spend a few days there, just did not appeal. Within seconds he proudly shows me the results of his search, and I am copying the particulars when I notice that the address is somewhere in California. On my mentioning this he says “Google is not God” to which my instinctive retort is that “God is not Google”.

At Vrindivan, as in many spiritual centres of the world, the search for meaning goes on, and the struggle is best manifested in the two solitudes: God and Google.
Late over dinner with Rasa, after an exchange of travel experiences, our talk returns to the meaning of life and his being a devotee of Hare Krishna, we share opinions about the emptiness of the western way of life with all the material possessions, versus the contentment of many India, with so little. He is impressed by our mode of travel and our preference partly out of necessity, to not consume anything but food and accommodations.

He offers me his dentist in Delhi, a driver wallah who could drive us to Delhi and back in one day at a reasonable cost, but I politely declined, having myself found on the internet, a dentist who seemed highly qualified, who does general dentistry and also a specialist in the technically complex process of implants. Thanks Google!
The ride of about 80kms to Agra was noteworthy as my pedal stokes kept pace with the pulsations in my tooth, but my mind was more occupied by the prospect of having a root canal treatment in a strange setting since I my own selected purveyor of dental services in Toronto for the last 45 years. But after three appointments with Dr Ajay Singh, I think my tooth is now well and we were able to enjoy the sublime experience of the Taj Mahal at sunrise. To try to describe the experience is to repeat the trite as this is truly one of the marvels of the world and one that more than lives up to its reputation. Beyond the majesty of the lofty structure, the intricate details in white marble is the knowledge that it was built in 1631 as a tomb by Shah Jahan after his wife Mumtaz Mahal died while giving birth to their 14th child. Can there be a greater devotion to another? The sequel to this saga, and surprisingly it has not been made into a Hollywood blockbuster, is that the son of Jahan imprisoned the father, for either squandering the people’s money or squandering his inheritance.

Walking back to our Hotel Maya, a lovely guest house filled with colourful Magen Davids, one for each of the six chakras and our resplendent with white marble floors, walls, marble end tables to match, I am thankful for all that we have and reminded that our most immediate need, after a number of cool days and nights, when nothing would dry,the temperature warmed up, and our laundry is safe and dry, having strung all of our clothes through the sleeves on the line. Welcome to monkey proofing your laundry in Agra.

Namaste + Hare Krishna

From New Delhi to Vrindavan, India

On arrival in Delhi, the front page of the newspaper blared that the school vacation is extended because of the cold, and that numerous flights, thankfully not ours, and trains were cancelled because temperatures are about five degrees below normal with record lows of 40 years. Because of the cold theatre owners were bemoaning the fact that people are not venturing out in the evenings and numerous deaths were associated with the deep freeze. Cold is hardly what one associates with Indida and It’s a small consolation, but we did have early warning that this will be a cool trip, not as in the 70’s lingo but as in temperatures being lower than what one generally associates with India. My early planning suggested that nights would be in the teens and during the day, it would warm up to about 20 degrees, with a likelihood of some fog and a rare drizzle.
During the ride from IGI (Indira Gandhi International) airport, we were in our own daze, having departed from Perth at 2:30 a.m. but we rapidly had a sense of being in India. The traffic had its unique way of flowing, thanks to the belief of drivers that by constantly blowing their horn they create imaginary spaces where there is none, and that flashing the bright beams, somehow acts as jet propulsion energy, a new branch of quantum physics, an invisible after burner, speeding them along to the next opportunity to break precipitously.
At our comfortable guest house, Soni Villa in Gurgaon, we were warmly greeted by Sunjay the manager and Sunny the owner. The old fashioned single element electric heater in our room, potentially deadly to the touch, did take a bit of the chill off in our marble clad room, clearly designed to cope with the heat of summer. We spent a day getting acclimatized by walking about in this sprawling suburb of high rise office buildings, hotels, shopping malls and apartment blocks that have transformed the sleepy rural village over the last 15 years.
One benefit of starting our cycling in 4 degree cold and 100% humidity, was that packing our gear was remarkably quick: we wore nearly all our clothes, properly layered. By riding we quickly got a sense of the “real” India. There is no substitute to seeing first-hand the massive pace of construction with high rises sprouting out of fields, heavy machinery alongside women in colourful saris toiling along the roads. From a real estate perspective, most telling are the simple 10’ by 10’ tent structures used as sales offices to sell the apartments.
Yet within 20km, we were back in familiar India – with colourful markets, vendors selling fruit, fabric and clothing, Brahman bulls in the street, water buffalo along the roads, carts being drawn by camels and horses, motorbikes, motorized tricycles and trucks overloaded with wares, and the constant noise of horns blaring as vehicles navigate roads and intersections. We stopped in a delightful small town, Sohna for a delicious meal: our standard fare of chipatis, daal, aloo gobi and sweet fragrant chai which we enjoyed at a simple family run place, watching the many men with colourful turbans and huge bushy mustaches – each craggy face furrowed with deep lines and piercing eyes, they were friendly and happy to be photographed. We watched women in colourful saris of red, orange and magenta, wearing thick shawls against the cold, toiling in the fields or engaged in other manual work, while children shouted greetings to us as we cycled by. Day one of our 80-day adventure involved a cool 72 km in the saddle – so far, so good.
Day two found us tempo riding along National Highway #2 a multi-lane expressway, of sorts, where traffic flows in every direction and a stay at Grace Hotel in Palwal, by which time we were getting used to the practice of the ancient art of highway usury. After a simple meal on the road, we were presented with a bill about double the norm. I said no and smiled. The waiter said yes with a straight face. I said no with an irritated voice. He said yes with a sterner face. I said no with a big laugh. Ten minutes of back and forth and the waiter retreats to consult and we leave after a reduction of about 40%, smiles all around.
At the above hotel, I asked the rate, to be told 2500 rupees. I say but website indicates 1400. An immediate OK; to be followed by a demand for taxes and service charges of 25%. We shake hands on 1500 all in. Welcome to traveling on the tourist highway. It pays to pay attention and not just to the traffic.

New Year, Perth Australia and New Delhi India

I believe that this is my 16th time in Perth, (and Alison's 26th) which perhaps explains why I have not yet been motivated to blog about the experience, even though I could describe in excruciating detail the 26 hours of actual flying time and the nearly 48 hours it took to get here, by way of New Delhi. But having done it so many times, its no longer memorable and even the experience leaving Toronto at minus 20 degrees and arriving in plus 40 degrees Celsius, seemed hardly worth a mention. Then there are the endless bicycle paths along the river, lakes and ocean, the exotic cockatoos, pelicans and the famous black swans, and did I mention the white beaches of the Indian Ocean, and yet I have stayed away from the blog as if this is all so "ordinary".

Perhaps its spending time with family, ranging from Issy the patriarch in his ninth decade and his great grandson,Daniel in his nine month, and the familiar family patterns of eating, sleeping, nightly movies etc. which has been so much the focus of our stay; the fact that in about two weeks we logged about 450kms on the bikes and the odometer on my bike passed 71,000 kms also seems to have gone by without much fanfare.

Then I came across an article by Matt Ridley that described how the brain is more active when it is surprised. It cited an experiment wherein volunteers followed a moving pattern of dots while having their brains scanned. Occasionally, a dot would appear out of step, which caused the brain to be more active.

Ridley then goes on to suggest that based on related research, that the human mind's main preoccupations is prediction, which is based largely on past experiences, and that the longer the memory of past events, the better ones ability to predict future possibilities.

In my case, as my short term memory is fading, I look forward to those random dots and recharging the memory bank with memories and experience, of which which I am sure there will be many, as we enter the New Year, in New Delhi, India and travel on to Kathmandu on two wheels.

Wishing you many new dots and experiences in the New Year,

Namaste,

andrew

Our bicycle tour of Burma (Myanmar)

Date Destination Route Distance Km



Feb 22 Mandalay Rest day 0
Feb 23 Mingun Riverboat 0
Feb 24 Mandalay Temples 29
Feb 25 Sagaing Amarapura, U Bein Bridge, Inwa 43
Feb 26 Myittha 71
Feb 27 Myinayan ` 91
Feb 28 Bagan 75
Feb 29 Bagan 0
Mar 1 Bagan 16
Mar 2 Bagan Salaw 60
Mar 3 Mount Popa 54
Mar 4 Meiktila 115
Mar 5 Kalaw Tarzi 69
Mar 6 Kalaw Pindaya (van ride) 0
Mar 7 Kalaw Market 0
Mar 8 Yaungshwe Inle Lake 69
Mar 9 Yaungshwe Kakku (van ride) 0
Mar 10 Yaungshwe Inle lake boat ride 0
Mar 11 Yaungshwe 25
Mar 12 Thazi Train – upper class 15
Mar 13 Bago Train – upper class 10
Mar 14 Bago Golden Rock 0
Mar 15 Rangoon 92
Mar 16 Yangon 0
Mar 17 Yangon Kyauktan 68
Mar 18 Yangon 0
Mar 19 Perth Singapore 0
TOTAL 902km

Our bicycle tour of Vietnam,Ho Chi Minh City. (Hanoi) to Saigon

Date Destination Route Distance Km

NORTH VIETNAM

January 28 Hanoi 0
January 29 Hai Phong 113
January 30 Cat Ba Island Hydrofoil 41
January 31 Hai Phong 2
February 1 Thai Bhin 71
February 2 Ninh Binh 87
February 3 Thanh Hoa 65
February 4 Vinh 142
February 5 Ha Tinh 67
February 6 Deo Ngang 75
February 7 Dong Hoi 76
February 8 Dong Ha DMZ 98
February 9 Hue 74
February 10 Hue Rest Day 0
February 11 Danang Hai Van Pass 110

SUB TOTAL 1,021km

SOUTH VIETNAM

February 12 Hoi An 40
February 13 Hoi An Rest day 0
February 14 Quan Ngai 50
February 15 Sa Huynh 65
February 16 Qui Nhon 115
February 17 Tuy Hoa 112
February 18 Tuy Hoa Rest day 0
February 19 Nha Trang Dia Lahn Beach 128
February 20 Nha Trang Rest day 0
February 21 Phan Rang 110
February 22 Dalat Van up passes 64
February 23 Dalat Rest day 0
February 24 Boa Luc Gounan Falls 126
February 25 N of Bien Hoa Wedding Feast 133
February 26 Cantho Bien Hoa, Bus rides passed Saigon to Mekong delta 40
February 27 Cantho 50
February 28 Saigon Backroads van ride to airport 0

SUB TOTAL 1,042km

GRAND TOTAL 2,063km

Our bicycle tour from Bangkok, Thailand, through Malaysia to Singapore

Destination Route Distance Km
THAILAND

Bangkok 6
Nakhon Pathon 86
Damnoen Saduak Bang Phae 66
Petchiburi 80
Hua Hin 73
Praduap Khiri Khan 101
Bang Saphan 95
Chumphon 95
Chumphon Rest day 0
Hat Arunothai 101
San Mok Khapalarum Chaiya 110
Surat Thani 62
Don Sak 72
Hat Sichon 76
Hat Sichon Rest Day 0
Nakhon si Thammarat Tha Sala 80
Sating Pura Kao Seng 141
Songkla 34
Thepha 68
Pattani Nong Chik 54
Narathiwat Saiburi 108
Tak Bai 45

Sub Total 1,553km

MALAYSIA

Kota Bharu 35
Kuala Besut 67
Tapai Kampung Penarik 79
Marang Terengganu 56
Paka Dungan 80
Cherating 72
Cherating Rest day 0
Cembaka Kuantan 60
Pekan 45
Lanjut 84
Rompin 43
Mersing 68
Tengeng Leman 72
Kota Tinggi Falls 91
Desaru 69
Desaru Rest Day 0
Singapore Belangkor 65


Malaysia 986km
GRAND TOTAL 2,539km

Our bicycle tour of Sulawesi, Indonesia January/February 2009

Makassar Rest day 0
Takalar 50
Jeneponto 55
Bulukumba 68
Bira 47
Bira Rest day 0
Sinjai Truck ride for 30km 61
Paulette Watabone (Bone) 95
Sangkeng 83
Sangkeng Rest day (on lake) 0
Buntu Matabing 105
Buntu Matabing Rest day (Flores Sea) 0
Palopo Winding up into hills 80
Puncak Very steep incline 26
Rantepao
Tana Toraja Cool jungle, terraced rice paddies 36
Rantepoa Lemo, Londa Caves 0
Rantepoa Basar Bulo 0
Rantepoa Funeral Celebration 0
Batutumonga Steep winding ascent 24
Makala Steep decent 35
Ekrakang Karst mountains 79
Pare Pare Corn fields 82
Pare Pare Rest Day (on ocean) 0
Lejje Pools Batu Batu 73
Watangsoppeng Rice paddies 46
Malawa Many mountains 71
Bantimurung Huge mountains, humid jungle 53
Maros At Airport 33


TOTAL 1202

Our bicycle tour of Southern India, February/March 2001

Chennai 0
Chennai 0
Mamallampuram 60
Pondicherry 100
Chidambaram Cuddalore 76
Kumbakonam 80
Thanjavur 42
Puddukkottai 63
Karaikkudi 41
Madurai 88
Madurai Rest day 0
Sattur 77
Tirunelveli 61
Kanyakumari 86
Kovolam 96
Kovolam Rest Day 0
Varkala 68
Verkala Rest Day 0
Kollam (Quilon) 36
Allepy (Alephuzha) Backwater boat 0
Cochin 62
Cochin Rest Day 0
Guruvayor 88
Guruvayor Rest Day Hartel 0
Kottokal 68
Calicut 66
Tellicherry 76
Nileshwar Hartel 86
Ulli Beach 79
Ulli Beach Rest day 0
Udipi Malpe 86
Udipi 0
Gangoli 61
Kollur 48
Murudeshwar 63
Gorkana 88
Palolem 106
Palolem Rest day 0
Colvo 44
Colvo Old Goa 0
Bomallo 27

TOTAL 2022 KMS

Our bicycle tour of Sri Lanka, February/March 2003

Negombo 0
Chilaw 46
Puttalam 55
Anarudnapura 80
Anarudnapura Explored ruins 27
Anarudnapura Mihintale 36
Habanara 64
Polunnaruwa 47
Polunnaruwa Explored ruins 16
Sigiriya Climbed ruins 57
Dumbulla Explored caves 16
Matale 52
Kandy 28
Kandy Rest day 0
Nuwara Eliya Ride in van 0
Bandarawela 54
Ella 13
Wellawaya Waterfall 28
Tissamahara Kataragama 64
Hambantota Kirinda 51
Tangalla 43
Tangalla Wedding 0
Marissa 53
Marissa Rest Day 0
Unawatuna Galle 45
Bentota Hikkaduwa 58
Mt Lavinia 58
Negombo Colombo 36
Negombo 0

TOTAL 1,027km

Tour from Vientienne Laos to Bangkok Thailand, through Cambodia

Southern Laos

January 7 – February 5, 2010

Date Destination Route Distance Km
Jan 8 Udon Thani Bangkok 0
Jan 9 Nong Khai 69
Jan 10 Vientiane 29
Jan 11 Vientiane 0
Jan 12 Ban Naxay 68
Jan 13 Paksan 84
Jan 14 Vien Khan Pakkading 104
Jan 15 Na Hin 40
Jan 16 Vien Khan 49
Jan 17 Tha Khaek 111
Jan 18 Tha Khaek Than Pha Po Cave 54
Jan 19 Xeno (Sino) 104
Jan 20 Savannakhet That Ing Hung Temple 40
Jan 21 Paxsong 77
Jan 22 Xedone (Sedone) 110
Jan 23 Pakse 66
Jan 24 Pakse 0
Jan 25 Tat Fan Bolavan Plateau 40
Jan 26 Tat Lo Paksing 80
Jan 27 Tat Lo 0
Jan 28 Tat Lo 0
Jan 29 Pakse Banana Junction 88
Jan 30 Champasak Ferry across Mekong 37
Jan 31 Champasak Wat Phou and back 28
Feb 1 Kiet Ngong Tomo Temple 48
Feb 2 Don Khong Si Phan Don Island 90
Feb 3 Don Khong Around island 25
Feb 4 Khon Phapheng Khon Phapheng Falls
Voen Kham border crossing 39
TOTAL 1,480


1,480km in 21 full cycling days = 70km per day (average)

Cambodia & Thailand

Feb 5 – March 2, 2010

Date Destination Route/comments Distance Km
Feb 5
CAMBODIA
Stung Treng Dom Kralor (border crossing) 63
Feb 6 Kratie Flat, hot, very long 144
Feb 7 Kratie 0
Feb 8 Chhlong Dirt road 36
Feb 9 Kampung Cham 91
Feb 10 Kampong Thon 111
Feb 11 Kampong Kdei 91
Feb 12 Siem Reap 63
Feb 13 Siem Reap Angkor Temples 15
Feb 14 Siem Reap Angkor Temples 48
Feb 15 Siem Reap Angkor Temples 37
Feb 16 Siem Reap Angkor Temples 36
Feb 17 Siem Reap 0
Feb 18 Sisophon Dirt road 109
Feb 19 Battambang 69
Feb 20 Battambang 0
Feb 21 Pailin Dirt Road 90
Sub Total 1003

Feb 22
THAILAND
Chantaburi 73
Feb 23 Laem Mae Phim 91
Feb 24 Laem Mae Phim 0
Feb 25 Pattaya Rayon, Sattahip 135
Feb 26 Pattaya 25
Feb 27 Pattaya 0
Feb 28 Pattaya 15
Mar 1 Pattaya 0
Mar 2 Bangkok, Bombay 0
Mar 3 London, Toronto 0
Sub Total 339
TOTAL 1,342
GRAND TOTAL 3,825 KMS
(excluding India 1,270 kms)

The route of our trip last year in Rajasthan

Date Destination Distance Km
Nov1-10 Mumbai, Hyderabad, Pune 0
Nov11-13 Mumbai 0
Nov 14 Udaipur 0
Nov 15 Udaipur 0
Nov 16 Udaipur 15
Nov 17 Nathdwara 53
Nov 18 Kumbalgarh 62
Nov 19 Kumbalgarh 10
Nov 20 Ranakpur 55
Nov 21 Ranakpur 25
Nov 22 Pali 85
Nov 23 Luni Fort 60
Nov 24 Jodphur 42
Nov 25 Jodphur 0
Nov 26 Osian 65
Nov 27 Phalodi 85
Nov 28 Pokaran 70
Nov 29 Minerva 65
Nov 30 Jaisamer 62
Dec 1 Jaisamer 0
Dec 2 Sam Sand Dunes 54
Dec 3 Jaisamer 42
Dec 4 Bikaner 5
Dec 5 Bikaner 0
Dec 6 Naguar 118
Dec 7 Merta City 82
Dec 8 Pushkar 62
Dec 9 Pushkar 0
Dec 10 Pushkar 0
Dec 11 Pushkar 0
Dec 12 Ajmer 16
Dec 13 Dudu 71
Dec 14 Jaipur 66
Dec 15 Jaipur 0
Dec 16 Delhi 0
TOTAL 1270km

Planning the next trip

After cook books, diet books, and financial self-help books, travel guides have to be one the most popular book genres, and as an avid traveler I devour them like chocolate, and were it not for the fact that my main mode of travel is by bicycle, I would be fat like a sumo wrestler and poor like the beggars of mid-town Toronto and needing the aforementioned diet and financial aid books. But as much as I consume guide books, I don’t actually read them carefully, lest their detailed descriptions spoil the reality to be experienced, but I do mine them for content, mostly to divine accommodations to be had and sites to be savored along the way. While I could write volumes about planning an independent bicycle tour, having a place to sleep at a reasonable day’s riding distance apart, is one of the important considerations. There are of course considerations of weather, topography, road conditions etc.

Still, every once in a while a description raises the wanderlust barometer, as did the following in the first and only 2001 edition of North India, by Lonely Planet: “Khajularho’s temples were build by the Chandelas, …most date from a one century-long burst of creative genius from AD 950 to 1050. Almost as intriguing as the sheer beauty and size of the temples is the question of why and how they were built here. Khajularho is a long way from anywhere and was probably just as far off the beaten track a thousand years ago as it is today.”

While nothing on the plant today is truly off the tourist path but the prospect is still enticing, and I Andrew Jacob, self-appointed Chief Explorer of Andrew’s bicycle tours, am ready to pump up tires and lubricate chains, to visit the three groups of World-Heritage listed temples, as much as for their remote location, as for their prolific Kama Sutra carvings, which are reputedly among the finest temple art in the world.

As might be expected, as I am in the midst of planning this winter’s tour, which will take us from Delhi, Agra, Varanasi and Nepal and various places along the way, it will most definitely include Khajularho.

Stay tuned.

How to keep your garden green in Mumbai: one of thousands of photos taken on a 4,500 km bicycle tour of India, Laos, Cambodia and Thailand

 

Drink anyone?

 
How can one not take great photos when everything in India is so colourful?

Street vendor Mumbai

 

Back home in Toronto

What one fool can do?

We have been back in Toronto for a few days, and not that I am complaining or looking for sympathy, but having been away four months, and travelled 4,500 kms on two wheels, I am finding the adjustment tough.

On the positive side, having slept in nearly a hundred different beds recently, short of anyone, ala George Washington, placing a sign that “AC and AJ slept here” there is something to be said for sleeping in your own bed.

It’s also a comfort to come home to a house that has been cleaned by our house-sitters, Alison’s cousin, and there is now a fridge full of familiar foods and shortly, I will get used to the pleasure of drinking tap water and not polluting the planet with plastic bottles.

It is also comforting to have access to family, friends via reliable local telephone services and my computer keyboard that does not suffer from terminal tropical stickiness.

Then there is the weather, which fortunately has been sunny, but the drop in temperature of about 40 degrees had me shivering for a number of days. Saturday I got on my bike to go to the gym, the Spring Bicycle Show that we always miss since we are travelling, and to do some errands and with numerous layers, I survived, albeit chilled to the bones. Having acclimatized to the tropics, I am now appreciating why in Rajasthan locals were buying Tibetan woolens when the temperature hovered around 15 degrees.

There is also the usual adjustment to dealing with four months of mail, and thousands of emails, mostly junk but there are those nasty bills that need to be paid and all the papers to prepare tax returns: a far cry from the care free days of riding on quiet roads, savoring the local cuisine or watching the sunset over the ocean.

I also miss all the exotic sites and smells that come with the open road and destinations that unfold with each twist and turn of the road and the simplicity of living with possessions that fit into two small bags and enjoying meals after a day's ride and actually feeling hungry.

Now that I am back, I am replacing one routine with another: my near daily attendance at the gym of the local Jewish Community Center, where the morning regulars are there exactly like four months ago. There is the usual jockeying for the two elliptical machines with stationary arms that I like and the usual suspects are running or pedaling furiously going nowhere on treadmills or stationary bikes.

Since I am back to my old routines, I can be hardly critical of others’
given the limitation of time and climate and the desire to maintain some level of fitness. I do however wonder about the treadmill of life that cages so many wherein they always seem to have some reasons or other why they cannot get away from work and break patterns that tie them to home and their daily routines.

There were many cyclists and travelers that we met on the road, that become inspirational: the Swiss couple who had been on the road for about nine months, the Dutch couple who had been riding for about a year, and they all rode through the “stans” Kurdistan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan etc. and the couple from Spain that rode their bikes through Central Africa, parts of the globe, which till know for me had been a great void, like the New Yorker’s view of the American mid-west and of course are now tonic for future travel plans.

However, I was most struck by Pete, the Dutchman, 64 years old, who with tears in his eyes would recount to all, how he and his wife had planned to travel on retirement. Unfortunately, Pete’s wife died four years ago and he is now travelling solo and trying to find solace on the road. His tale reinforced for me the belief that what one old fool can do, others can too and to do so while they still can?

Jomtien Beach, Gulf of Thailand

When I tell friends that we are off on another bicycle touring adventure, the response often is an incredulous, "You're going where, to do what?" Now that we are a couple of days before returning, I am also starting to question myself by asking "You've gone where and did what?". But I am a bit ahead of myself.

From Battambang in Cambodia, we decided to head to Thailand and its beautiful beaches, which took us on another less travelled road to Pailin. I use the word road'' advisably, since about half of the 90 kms was dirt or under contruction and Pailin itself, was like a construction zone on all the main streets. As such we wanted to get to a guest house which was described as about 3 kms north of town but without any road signs the only clue that I followed was that there was an unexpected paved cross road which suggested that this may be the Bamboo Guest House we were looking for and would eventually lead us to the Thai border.

Intuitition proved right and after a comfortable night's stay, we headed for the border, only to discover that the last 15 kms were not only like rough tracks, but the terrain was also hilly such that the appearance of several multi-storey buildings, hotels with casinos, were a welcome sign, since they indicated that we were just a few meters from Thailand, and the casinos and hotels were built to attract gamblers from just across the imaginary line.

The crossing was nearly effortless, as we were not asked for a bribe at this location and with a quick visa from Thailand, we were soon on our way on well paved roads with smooth shoulders, manicured medians but alas, non of the warm greetings of "hello" we had become accustomed to in Cambodia and Laos. Even swithching to the left side of the road came naturally, as we had ridden thus in India and Australia.

Our ride to Chantiburi was quite easy as we could avail ourselves of the modern gas stations with convenience stores and eateries so we were well fuelled and fed. Chantiburi turned out to be much larger than anticipated but it still had a charming row of shops along the river, dating from about a hundred years ago.

Eager to see the sea we left early to Ban Leam Phim, which deserved a one line mention in Lonely Planet, to discover a well developed beach community with kilometer after kilometer of hotels and restaurant on one side, and umbrellas and chairs and simple foodstands on the beach side. Seeing the turquise ocean for the first time, after so many months of inland riding, was a spectacular feeling.

Our accomodations, Bali Villa, also did not disappoint as we stayed in this cosy development of 20 cottages, each named after a tropical fruit tree which was grown at its front steps. Ours was the Mango and it was truly reminiscent of Bali with the open air feeling shower and the teak construction everywhere.

After a two day stay on the beach we wanted to go to a similar setting and road along the ocean for nearly 50kms to discover that our possible destination Rayong was a bustling industrial town and not at all inviting. I knew that further along the coast there were several options but using some basic logic, I concluded that the best chance of finding a place would be around Sattahip which not only has a military and civilian airport as well as a major naval base. The town proved to be a charming fishing village sorounded by a few block of stores and the aforementioned uses, but alas, only one hotel, that by northern Laos standards would have been quite good, but having enjoyed the comforts of Bali Villas, we only had the option of going further still towards the famous beaches of Pattaya.

After turning off the main highway several times to follow signs, we would either end up at some multi-story condo develpment or a massive hotel, such as the Ambassador with 4,000 rooms, we ended riding another monster day in the heat of 135kms to the smaller community of Jomtien just south of Pattaya, thinking that it would be quieter and less commercial.

We looked at several standard and luxury hotels but after such a long ride, none seemed inviting, when at the southern end of the Jomtien, on a small side street, a few doors from the beach I came acrossa pizza restaurant, guesthouse and pub with the unlikely name of "Miracle Mirage" owned by a Dutchman Gerard and his Thai wife, Kwan. It only has three rooms but has a European feel of a guesthouse or as we soon discovered, more like a guest home, where at each turn, they anticipated our needs, including the offer to use their computer. www.miraclemirage.com

Their pizza lived upto its billing as the "Best Pizza in Thailand" according to the Pattaya People TV and their pasta was equally good. Our plans were to ride to Bangkok Airport, about a 130kms from here, but we discovered that Monday is a public holiday, so elected to use our time here by sampling all the great cuisine and enjoy the beaches and all of the major hotels with such inviting pools, with Gerard driving us in his truck, directly to the airport for Tuesday's departure.

We did ride into Pattaya which is truly an urban jungle and even mid-day it lives upto its notoriety for sex tourism, discos, outdoor beer bars, go-g- clubs, that attracts its share of prostitutes of every shape and form.

We were happy to return to the quieter beaches of Jomtien where last night, as we watched the sunset over the Gulf of Thailand, for the third night in a row, and as I looked back in the opposite direction, I notice a brilliant full moon, did the realization hit me that the previous full moons we had enjoyed were in Jaisamer, India, camping in the desert where it was a brilliant white globe, and in Champasak, Laos, where during the full moon festival, it was a red globe as it was framed by Angkor era ruins, that we have been gone for a considerable time.

The four months seemed to have by so quickly; that we had travelled in five countries, India, Australia, Thailand, Laos and Cambodia, that we had cycled about 4,500kms, is only now raising the question in my mind of where we have been and what we have done.

With a few minor exceptions, the trip seemed effortless and needless to say extremely enjoyable and stimulating, with each day a minor revelation. Looking back, Alison and I are astounded that the trip is nearly at its end and that we went on bicycles where we did. Still, I know that soon after we board the plane, to Mubai, then London and then to Toronto, the first thing I will do is browse the maps at the back of the airline magazines and contemplate the few inches of ground we have covered, and how on four wheels, we uncovered yet another small piece of the planet and that it will be time to plan the next trip as there is so much more to see and to experience.

Happy travelling

Battambang, Cambodia

Tourist Times

The culture shock of being in Siem Reap, the contrast of experiencing one of the true wonders of the world and the commercial trappings of all the material goods and services available here, after travelling for many weeks mostly on quiet rural roads where people live off the land, took us six days to overcome, but we did not only managed, but triumphed with great enjoyment.

With apologies to those who have been here and seen it all, its truly a challenging task to encapsulate what Angkor is about. It is much more than Angkor Wat one of the most famous landmarks that is applied to this area. Angkor in fact is the Capital City or the Holy City of the Khmer Empire that existed between the 9th and 12th centuries and it encompasses not only three or four centuries of massive buildings but an area that spreads over hundreds of kilometers, with ruins that are in various stages of preservation: some well done and others intentionally left unrestored with giant building block size stones scattered like mammoth lego pieces, with equally massive tree roots, like elephant trunks hugging them.

The Khmers also constructed massive water works, for many kilometers, and constructed temples dedicated to the gods, places of worship, as well as cities worthy of their military, economic and cultural dominance of a region that spread over an area that covers modern day Thailand, Laos and Cambodia.

Early in our travels, even though we were moving at a relatively slow pace, covering modest distances and had the benefit of two digital cameras and lots of memory cards, Alison and I agreed that we can't visit all sites and capture every photo opportunity, a promise we had to remind ourselves when we toured Angkor. We had a three day pass, which included an evening tour and we soon discovered that it’s nearly impossible to beat the crowds. The guide books all comment on the monuments and which is the best light to photograph them and then go on to suggest the contrarian strategy of doing them at reverse times, but its all to little or no avail. We would rise around five in the morning and were on the go by sixish, and this gave us a couple of hours of relative quiet but by eight or so, at least at the nearby ruins the buses would disgorge their passengers who eagerly followed their tour leaders' flag.

As our own counter, counter maneuver, we would start at some of the most distant sites which allowed us some of the best undisturbed viewing opportunities, but these would also be relatively short lived. Not that its a complaint, but having others around did take getting used to but it was still a most awe inspiring experience, and one that is not only worth doing but perhaps even repeating, not withstanding the fact that Angkor's popularity will not only increase but will grow rapidly as the roads, as we have discovered to Thailand and Vietnam and Laos have all been paved. One indication of this is that there is a near solid line of hotels built or under construction, west of the city of about four kilometers towards the airport which we only discovered as we were leaving town.

Beyond the hotels, there is a huge tourist infrastructure of eating, drinking, massages and of course shopping which we also got used to, especially the ability buy foods for an early in-room breakfast our favourite being whole wheat baguettes, and European style pastries which very conveniently were half price after eight p.m.

It took us six days of adjustment but we not only coped but thrived under these demanding conditions, building our touristic abilities. During the three days we ended not only bicycling about 175 kms between sites but enduring walking and climbing steep temples that were designed to humble the supplicants and sure provided an ideal training ground for rock climbing, often in the heat of the day, such that by early afternoon we would return nearly exhausted to do battle the following day.

Of course the mental stimulation is one that is most difficult to describe as one contemplates how without the benefit of modern tools and even local stones, over a 1000 years ago the Khmers built an empire that must have required untold amounts of money, labour, planning and execution, all the while fighting internal and external wars.

This wonderment was shared by most of the people who we saw and spoke to but there were some annoyances. The loud speaking foreigners, the groupies who would take ages to pose solemnly in front of a particularly impressive monument, followed by the remaining busloadful of their compatriots and the occasional young eastern oriental women in their slinky, silky, fluorescent outfits, with splayed arms and fingers, struggling to strike sexy posses for that trophy photo to preserve their experiences.

The variety and complexity of the structures and the details of the history are nearly impossible to absorb in such a short visit but left an enduring impression on us. Its also not possible to ignore the question of the decline and fall of major empires, such as the Egyptian, Roman, Greek, Mayan and ultimately our own as we see how in a relatively short period of time, a civilization can thrive and then decline to ruins.

While the comparisons may not be entirely appropriate, I am always stuck by, especially in South East Asia, the contrast between the monuments governments and near government agencies build for themselves and the way people around them live. In Vientiane one of the most imposing, pyramid like structures is the home of the Mekong Commission, with a parking lot full of fancy cars, while the people nearby live most modestly. In Siem Reap I donated blood to a wonderful children’s hospital, established and run by a cello playing Swiss Dr. Beat Richner and is supported by mostly private donations and yet the Ministry of Health is housed in a five storey, palace like structure.

Of course the contrasts within this society are even more striking. In a land like Cambodia where most travel by motorcycle or by bicycle, not counting the few eccentric tourists on two wheels, where if there is a private car, it is a soon to be recalled, beaten up Toyota Corolla from the 1980's and naturally, the typically black high end Lexus SUV, with blaring horns, is bound to stand out.

We could easily have stayed longer but the road called and what a ride it was to Sisophon, on a recently paved near flat, smooth surfaced highway with a paved shoulder, such that with the benefit of a tail wind, it felt like we flew the distance of 110 kms in 4.5 hours. From Sisophon to Battambang was another 70 km and enroute, I recorded 69,000 kms on my odometer marking also that we have since leaving Toronto, travelled more than 4,000 kms on our trusty two wheeled vehicles.

Battambang is the second largest city in Cambodia, on the Stung Sanke River, and we elected to stay in an international class high rise hotel, not because of the wonderful room with all the conveniences, the second floor pool which two days running we have had to ourselves, but to avail ourselves of the buffet breakfast with both western and eastern food options and to take a well deserved rest day after all the tourist challenges of Siem Reap.

Tomorrow we leave for Pailin, not the home of the political wonder woman, but a town near the border of Thailand which is the shortest route to the Gulf of Thailand, where we will be able to squeeze in about a week of sea, sand and sun while we contemplate and try to integrate the wonders of Angkor Wat and prepare ourselves to ride to and to fly home from Bangkok.