Our time in Kolkata came to an end. We were fatter, healthier, and complete with new sponsored gear ready for the cold winter months ahead. Riding out of Kolkata we were in dense fog. We crossed the Hooghly River and began the trek north. I had left my gloves behind in Myanmar so was riding with nothing protecting my hands from the cold. An order was placed with mum, still in Kolkata and planning to meet us up the road in Shantiniketan, for full finger winter gloves. On that first day we sat in a roadside ditch, 60kms out of Kolkata, eating the sandwiches mum had packed for us and shivering. Never had we ever dreamed India to be a cold place, let along a very cold place.
A rare stretch of clear road. The crowds gathered soon
You can here the Heroes coming from a mile away. There are millions of these bikes in India
The early formations of a crowd. They would soon be on their phones to make sure more would come.
We rolled into Shantiniketan after two days of riding and testing the legs and new equipment. Sean had forgotten to adjust his brakes so spent the first 90km of our second leg feeling like a log. Why was he going so slow? He put it down to lack of experience but on a downhill when I let the others go ahead I noticed something had to be up. These teething issues we resolved in those two days and arrived feeling fit and well at Shantiniiketan. We stayed in a small village homestay. There was no hot water and we all slept in a communal setting upstairs in our clay house. It was absolutely beautiful and such a nice change in pace from the mad Kolkata lifestyle. During the day we played cricket with the locals and visited the famed University where Tagore studied.
Local paintings at the cultural village
Cricket with the locals. They really screwed up putting me at cow corner
The entrance to our village home
Tea and diary writing, a regular on The Big Bike Trip
We adopted a lovely stray with a bung leg. He had the loveliest disposition and would bark at other dogs that approached us to protect us. God I miss that boy
Ah some misc locals
We had a fire on our last night. Fires are always most mesmerising and kept the evil spirits at bay god I'm talking nonsense we're in Nepal of all places and the other boys are sick in bed next to me I'm losing it!
Then came time to leave. It was a wee bit sad saying goodbye to mum who helped us so much with our mechanical package and getting us healthy and fit for the second leg of our journey across the globe. We threw on the bags and headed off into West Bengal and the unknown. We didn't have a town lined up to stay in and were just hoping to find something. At the 100km mark there was nothing. The face masks had come out for the first time as pollution levels reached an all time high for the trip. The roads were dusty and challenging. Finally we found a small highway hotel that would take us. After food and a good sleep we were back on our way.
One of the things about Bengalis is that they don't get up early. In fact shops don't open until 10am at the very earliest. When we woke up at 6 and got ready to go by 7 we found breakfast wasn't available (even though they'd promised it) and the front door was well and truly locked. There was no way out. We had to wake the disgruntled staff up to let us out of the building. From then on we bought breakfast the night before and would eat in our rooms. Usually a mixture of samosas, bread and spread, and fruit.
The days in Bengal were characterised by a similar routine. We'd get up in the freezing cold and put on thermals, full fingered gloves, neck warmers, and beanies and then go out into the fog. At times visibility was only 50m. Trucks would emerge out of the fog, mercifully driving slowly. At times trucks would drive on the wrong side of the road and emerge out of the fog. God the driving is something else. Things would usually clear up around 1pm. Until then we rode in a tunnel and didn't really see much of the country side at all. When it cleared up we would see the sunflowers of India - mustard seeds in full bloom which were particularly beautiful at this time of year.
Our first road lunch - "You will have everything!" our host announced (the man with no shirt). He then tried to get us to stay with him for free for an entire week even though his hotel was beside a power plant and a bustling main highway. Lovely soul he was.
The sunflowers of Bengal in a rare moment of clarity
Just your usual hotel scene. No biggy. The three of us slept on the one bed.
Every chai stop was an event. The bikes would be laid to rest for no longer than 10 seconds when I would spot someone running (yes actually running) across the road to crowd in. It's a strange concept that anyone who's been to India will have had experience with. Crowd culture. Something happens, anything happens, and they all crowd in. There are no females to be seen. It's a very repressive society and heavily testosterone fuelled. Smiles are few and far between and it was all a wee bit intimidating and uncomfortable at the time. We would just smile at them and then mention something about Martin Guptill or Brendon McCullum and before you knew it they'd be laughing and smiling. We weren't so alien after all. Cricket the unifier.
A regular crowd. They gathered with lightning pace and had the ability to stand very close to us and stare for a very long time.
And so we progressed through small town after small town, drawing stares wherever we would go and hearing locals on single speed Hero Bicycles do all they could to keep up with us for even a moment. We ate plenty of samosas, dal, and rice, and got stuck into a lot of chai.
Our crossing of the Ganges was a non event. The fog meant we could only see the river if we leant right over the edge. The road over was 2km long on a bridge that serviced trains as well. It wasn't a relaxing affair crossing the holy river.
On the bridge over the Ganges. Cold, foggy, and very dusty.
Before we knew what had happened the terrain changed and we noticed the tea fields of the Darjeeling region surround us. Faces changed too. We noticed the more mongoloid complexion of the people of Tibet and Nepal. It became a lot more relaxed and we knew we were close to Nepal.
The kids always love having their photo taken.
A park, turned bus park, turned rubbish dump in English Bazaar. It sure was bizarre
'The Great Bengal Traffic Crisis of 2018' we were witness to. A 10km line of vehicles so jammed the drivers were out of vehicles having tea. The main problem was that people got impatient, shooted up the outside and then we ended up with a bottleneck so severe no one was going anywhere with vehicles on all sides of the road.
Riding the tea fields near Darjeeling.
The border crossing was very straight forward. The Indian side had us stamped out in a few moments and the Nepali immigration control spent more time recommending places for us to visit than asking any probing questions or completing paperwork. The horns became less frequent, the crowd culture disappeared, and we saw women! Real women dressed in a variety of traditional and modern clothing. You don't realise how much safer women make you feel in society until you don't have them around. India felt like a tension brimming testosterone filled society that made us feel on edge. In Nepal we felt a lot more relaxed and enjoyed the peace of the place.
In the first town we stopped we met a group of Nepali youths raising money for Teens Nepal, a charity that helps kids in need. They made us tea and then took us around the town. They showed us the carnival that was on for that weekend only and showed us the greatest hospitality we could have asked for. We had very little interaction with the Indian locals. It was a great reflection of Nepal that in our first town we were showered with hospitality.
Our philanthropic hosts. They showed us round like true legends and taught us a lot on Nepalese hospitality
Misc children posing for said camera
My Brooks bike seat broke the next day. The bolt holding it together had severed all the way through with my fat ass sitting on it 8 hours a day for 8 months. Disaster. Walking around town looking for a spare part that resembled what we needed a young man approached. He bought us tea (absolutely insisting!) and then bought us the spare part from a shop he knew of. Afan took us around the town, showing us the local temples and getting us to try the food. We met Ayush as well who invited us to his family home for breakfast the next day. Man it was overwhelming.
Ayush, the man with the aviators, and his family
The next day we had a Nepali banquet. A feast fit for kings that Ayush's mother put on for us. I'll murder attempting to describe it all but there was a delicious cardamon coconut porridge, aloo goby (potato, cauliflower curry), roti, and delicious Nepali sweets. It was bottomless and we left for the ride that day hardly able to move.
The first funeral pyre we saw on day one in Nepal. It was chilling watching the flames engulf the pyre.
We often take breaks on bridges. I guess it's because there's often more of a view.
The riding across Nepal was flat until we had to turn north. We came across our first 600m mountain crossing and then turned towards the Chitwan National Park. Here we saw our first tourists since Shantiniketan. We planned a day off which we spent riding (of course) 20km to a lake and through a bit of the buffer zone of the National Park. The next day we booked a 10 hour walk through the park. The Chitwan National Park is one of the few remaining homes of the Bengal Tiger. It was most exciting to be going out in it only on foot. The excitement of seeing a tiger with nothing to protect ourselves was very real. Due to laws our guides were only able to carry bamboo sticks. We crossed the crocodile infested river to reach the other side. It was like something out of King Kong. We crossed the wall into the wilderness.
If ye squint ya eyes you'll see a croc on that middle island bit
Rhinos often bathe in the river. They hold their heads up, in the river. They don't worry anymore, till they reach that golden shore.
These kids were working collecting watercress in the stream. They are too young to be working, no doubt for nothing or a pittance. We gave them a wee tip each for the photo
They were most interested in our bikes.
So interested I gave them a wee ride.
One of the many wild rhinos in the park.
A baby elephant, sadly born into captivity and no doubt working life. They still have a number of adults that are used for walking wealthy tourists through the park although demand is falling.
The sunrise through the mist on the morning of our walk was unreal. Very little editing of the photos was needed.
The tiger was always close...
Another sunrise shot.
We waited on the road near the watering hole for half an our in silence for our tiger to cross.
The park was beautiful and extended for many miles beyond the hills and far away...
It was cold in the forest and a low mist hung around the park. All was quiet. Suddenly Sean saw a flicker, a black shape not 20 metres away from us. There were two bears in the process of courting. Our guide told us to be dead silent and got in front of us, standing with feet apart and raising his bamboo pole. We watched the bears for a while when our guide slammed the pole into the ground and roared at the bears. It was so loud and there was plenty of commotion. The bears both looked up and stared at us directly in the eyes. At this point I was unsure which way they were going to run, at us or away. Fortunately they both fled but the reality of our precarious on foot situation hit home a wee bit. What would happen if we saw a tiger?
There were plenty of rhinos. We even accidentally snuck up on one that charged away through the bushes when it realised we were only 5m away. We ran back in terror. That was probably the most real threat. There were tiger prints only 2 hours old which we tracked. We silently waited on the path for half an hour near a watering hole but no tiger emerged. When they want to hide they hide pretty well.
We didn't see a tiger but it was enough just being in their presence. We loved the time in Chitwan although it was hardly the rest days we needed. The cycle to Kathmandu approached and we knew we had 3000m of vertical climbing to do. We opted for a back route. It was shorter and with less climbing. What we should have known is that you should always take the main road in a third world country. Always. We learnt that in Laos but forgot to apply the lesson, being tempted by the easier stats of the back road.
A good stretch of road on the way to Kathmandu. It really deteriorated.
The views were incredible though.
Absolute scenes were seen in the early morning light.
The switch backs were steep and unrelenting. We quickly climbed to 1900m above sea level.
Prayer flags fluttered against a stupa at the top of our first pass, willing us onwards!
1900m up. We descended to below the lake on the left and then climbed well above it on the surrounding hills. If only it went up and stayed up!
The climb began blissfully through the valley and up a river gorge. Prayer flags flew in every small village and the buildings looked like a Nepalese version of the houses in Hoi An or Luang Prabang or the French Alps. Beautiful stone things with wooden shutters. The road took a turn up. It really went up. We found ourselves on switch back after switch back. Art and I rather competitively raced our way up and found time to hover in on Sean with the drone, much to his annoyance. At 1900m above sea level we crossed the first obstacle for the day. We had lunch atop the pass and then dropped down the other side, brakes threatening to give in. We had some navigational concerns and the roads really took a turn for the worse. As we climbed again up a dam and above a lake the road degenerated to potholed gravel and stones. The mettle was being tested. I rode ahead at one point and waited in the shadow of the hill. It was cold and getting on. Art didn't come. He was taking too long. I was shattered but rode down the hill again and found him, bike upside down, with the chain jammed on the inner side of the cassette up against the spokes. Not a good place to be. We managed to wedge it out and get going again. After another climb we turned a corner and saw the valley open up to Kathmandu below. What a sight that was! We felt like we made it. Sitting atop the view platform we exhaled and looked forward to the light descent into the town.
This was not to be. The road spun away from the city and we had to keep climbing. The road deteriorated further to the point where two of the three screws holding one of my panniers together popped leaving my heaviest bag hanging by a thread. This bag came off and was strapped to Art's bike while I took his guitar and rode a lop sided set up. My panniers bounced off no less than 5 times as we descended the 17km in 1.5 hours. That's how bad the road was. It was a lunar landscape. At one point I asked a local on a motorbike where the main road was cause we needed it. He smiled and said 'This is the main road!'.
Hetauda, the town we launched our assault on Kathmandu from.
A shot of the brutal switchbacks... and hilarious driving that created a jam far below us. Patience doesn't exist which means they all get stuck.
The sun went down and the bikes kept rolling. At 6 30 we arrived at Hotel Tibet, covered in dust like we'd been in battle and exhausted. The staff were the most friendly we have encountered anywhere. We were welcomed into the lobby with the bikes being rolled over carpet! It was a 5 star welcome. That night our good friend Tsering, who mum and dad had met on their bike trip through India and Nepal, treated us to a buffet dinner. We had hot showers for the first time since Kolkata and I almost cried. We loaded up on three plates of food and polished it off with a good dosage of chocolate mousse. Sinking into a soft bed that night was the best feeling ever.
Below you see Arthur at the top of the valley looking at Kathmandu and our post ride photos. They are not flattering.
