Retrieving Big Sal from the Border

The lads were stopped at the Indian customs border after leaving Nepal. The Indians require a document called a Carnet of Passage to accompany a foreign vehicle on a temporary visit to India. The document allows entry without paying import tax for the vehicle. The issuing body guarantees the import tax is paid if the vehicle does not leave the country within the allowed 1 year period. We didn't have the Carnet document so the van was impounded by Indian customs. The first country on the whole trip to require a Carnet.

We had two options. Empty all our belongings and ditch the van, then post all our belongings home. Or buy a Carnet from the RAC in the UK to release the vehicle. The Carnet could take up to 4 weeks to be processed which was too long, we had to meet the girls in Goa in 3.5 weeks. We were in a bit of a pickle. After pleading with the RAC to fast track our Carnet application, making spreadsheets to compare costs for both options and having some lengthy discussions we decided to pursue the Carnet option. Jessica at the RAC had assured us it will be at the front of the que. We took the gamble and sent off a fair whack of money for the Carnet. Within two days the Carnet was processed and with DHL on its way to our hostel in Delhi.

We had a few days to kill so we rode the three bikes up to Hardiwar, 200km North of Delhi. Two people on two bikes and one on the other. We had a tracking number for the document, we woke one morning with an update that it was in the air on the way to Delhi. That was our que to head back to the hostel. The Carnet arrived! The plan was coming together, we had the document which could release Big Sal. Me, Dunny and Stew booked onto a 14 hour night train that night for an extortionate £4.50 each! We played cards and bought a bottle of rum to help us sleep. The 14 hour journey turned into 20, apparently the fog had slowed progress. Next was a 4 hour bus journey to the border town. Because our train was delayed we arrived at the border too late to process the paperwork, even though they had confirmed by telephone we could get the van 24 hours 7 days a week,

Bangalore

We had been slogging it in the van and on the bikes for two days. We decided to drive late into the night because every hotel we stopped at told us they were full. There was no chance they were full but they just didn't want to have to deal with the complicated foreigner paperwork, either that or they just didn't like the look of us.

It was Dunny and my late shift in the van and Stew, Gaz and Jon on the bikes. It was 1am and we were getting hungry, in the distance appeared a pair of golden arches, spot on. We parked the van opposite in an abandoned fuel station, waited for the bikes to arrive then got stuck into a McDonalds.  We made up the 5 beds in the van and got our heads down.

We woke and set off to drive the last 40km into Bangalore. Stews bike ran out of fuel so we stuck it in the back of a van. Me and Gaz on the bikes got separated from the van in traffic. Half hour later Stew came running down the road, he had spotted us on the other side of the road.

We found the road full of hotels and booked into one. Stew did a brilliant job of negotiating a rate with the parking attendant. The parking attendant eye's lit up when we arrived and tried charging us way more than his big sign said. Stew politely explained we would only pay the amount on his sign.

We had been slogging it on the roads for the last few days so we all agreed a few beers were in order. We checked the lonely planet for the best drinking spots then hit the town. The night started slow until the bar we were in started blasting out some absolute classics. The beer towers were flowing and Gaz took up the spicy chicken wing challenge. We met some British expats working in Bangalore for a year, they recommended a bar down the road. We continued drinking, playing pool, table football and generally having a good time. Stew and Jon left first. An hour and a half later me dunny and Gaz left the bar. Stew and Jon had just arrived, they had been driving around the whole time trying to find the hotel.

We woke the following day feeling rough but we had a big day ahead. We had decided to pack all the motorbikes into the van for the drive back to Mumbai. The van was quicker on the big roads and we could drive for longer in comfort. This meant we had to spend the day sorting out the van and packing the bikes into the back. It all went to plan and even left enough room for a booth in the back for a 4th passenger.

We finished packing then went for a curry before setting off on the 1000km drive to Mumbai. When we returned to the van a lady greeted Dunny, she was from the local TV news show and wanted to interview us about our travels. We had no time to prepare and were put on the spot a bit but it went OK. We exchanged contact details and hopefully we can get a copy of the report.

We then set off towards Mumbai at about 7PM. It took the first two hours just to get out of Bangalore. We spotted a weigh bridge so we quickly snuck onto it, 4.3 tonnes, the max gross weight is 3.5tonnes. It just reinforces how well big Sal has done on this trip. She had a similar weight onboard in Mongolia and we were smashing it across uneven dirt tracks.  We drove non stop and completed the 1000km in 22 hours.

Our hungover packing of the bikes wasn't quite up to scratch, mine and Stew's collided leaving a big dent in Stew's fuel tank, another problem to sort out in Mumbai.

We arrived safely in Mumbai and checked into India guest house

Rob

After Pokarah, border town and Varanasi

After pokarah we had arranged to go canyoning on the edge of chitwan national park in an area of famous jungle, where they do elephant safaris and where I had been years before on my first trip. Unfortunately we didn't have time for a safari.

We arrived at the start point, a hotel, it was quality! We were on the edge of a big river with straw huts and a bar on the beach. Dunny had hurt himself to badly to do canyoning... He'd fallen off a cliff... 4 times!

The canyoning was class, we hiked along a river to the top of a 60ft waterfall which we where to absail down. The walk had taken it's toll, we had all slipped and fallen more than once and where bleeding, the guides dogs where leading the way and seemed to be taking the piss as they bounded up things we struggled with. We started with a natural slide along the river that was cut into the rock. It was mine and Scottish's first time absailing and we where strapped on and off, after a quick briefing which would not have counted for anything at all in the uk. Getting off the edge was the hardest bit, trusting myself and the knot. Once over the edge with the water crashing down on me I loved it! We had another waterfall on the way back and a plunge pool, although this first one was the best.

*

Back at the hotel we'd arranged to stay for the night, for £4 each well happy. They the. Proceeded to show us to our tents! Are you retarded? You've seen us turn up in a camper with beds, why would we then pay for a tent with no beds? Needless to say we left and headed towards the border. A bad night sleeping by the road and we where at the birth place of Buddha. What a waste of time, just a few ruins that we couldn't be bothered to walk the 12 miles to see. We did see a bloke with the most disgusting piles we have ever seen! Hobbit don't have shit on that! This bloke was squatted by the road and was literally shitting out his insides! Bigger then a coke can by miles!

The border was now in sight! Hello India! We passed through the Nepalese side without issue, this was great news as when Gaz crashed...add that to the list Dunny...we where told by police that we couldn't get out without paperwork! Ha screw you! On the way into India we where sent back to customs... "Do you have your Carnet de Passage?" Umm... Nope. 

After two days of listening to jobsworths and people with massive egos and we where still without Sal. How this country functions with so much paperwork and lazy beurocrates I dont know. The van was stuck at the border, whilst we where to continue and try to get a Carnet sorted on the way. As useless the guys at the border where it was an interesting, if not enjoyable experience. They where also very hospitable and the top boys (who did nothing except read the paper, boss people around, shout for a stapler and sign the occasional paper) ordered us breakfast and lunch off their lackeys. 

Next stop Gorkpur, hoping that the hotel would be better than the COD set from last night! The hotel was banging! We stayed in the former home of the first deputy police commissioner from the days of British occupation. This colonial mansion is now run by his grandson and there was a wedding there during our stay, good fun and a nice place to chill for a couple of days. The big differences we've noticed so far is the filth, India is disgustingly dirty! The people, they love us!  And the poverty, India has more incredibly poor people than anywhere else we've been.

The train to Varanasi was a nice journey through rural India, field and small hamlets to the backdrop of a red sunset, with mist rolling over the fields. Varanasi itself was like something out of lord of the rings once you got to the far side of the Ganges and looked back across, enormous buildings standing right on the river front and bodies burning up and down the river. Very impressive. On the boat a young lad with great English and a really cheeky selling tactic sold us some floating candles with flowers on. We all brought some and lit them for a family member, to give them luck, the overall look when loads of different boats with people on where doing it all at once was class.

We signed up for a tour, £6 each and we got a tour of the city where we went to a monkey temple where they queued up for hours to walk one way around the centre piece and a guard whacked any monkey that came close enough to him, one baby monkey squeaked and jumped up on it's mother who scarpered up the building. Another temple had the weirdest electric puppet display, proper freaky!

That night we went out on the water and watched the sunset then a religious fire show with drums and dancing. Religion is nuts! 

All the kids here fly these little kites that get to tremendous heights, pretty impressive and some get so high that it takes a while to work out who's flying them.

On the bank with all the buildings however it was a bit of a different tale, rubbish piled up and a stench of urine was unavoidable and it was astonishing that people burnt their families amongst all this crap. We did however get to play the locals at cricket and that was class...although we lost, when Scottish came into bat they all laughed as he held the bat like a faggot. I was still the worst though.

A frustrating start to India 

Stew

Jaipur to Mumbai

We left Jaipur around lunchtime and headed towards Ahmedabad. We had some long days ahead of us. Our mission now was to get to Mumbai in good enough time to give us a day searching for a shipping agent. It was getting late as we arrived Ahmedabad, it was dark and rush hour was in full swing. Me and Dunny were on the bikes and got separated from the van. We found ourselves on different roads out of the city. We managed to get hold of the lads in the van, they were parked on the other side of a toll gate about 100km south of where me and Dunny were. We got to the toll gate where we thought the lads were at about 11.30pm but there was no sign of them. We tried ringing again with no luck. We gave up and began to head off, then we saw the van and the lads. It was surrounded by a group of Sikh's who insisted we came into their temple for food and drink. They took us upstairs to meet the Sikh gurus who were reading from the big book. The gurus were cool looking guys, big white beards and traditional dress. The Sikhs hospitality and sense of community had impressed us all and we left with good impression of their faith.

We decided to put one more hour under us, we finally parked up for the night in a petrol station at about 1am. The 5 of us in the van bedded down for the night. The following day Dunny's bike was playing up. It had lost compression was wasn't starting. We put it in the back of the van and continued on towards Mumbai.

After another slog of a day we were approaching the outskirts of Mumbai. We had all been reading a book called Shantaram, a story of a New Zealand convict who lived in the Mumbai slums for years. He wrote about a bar called Leopolds which was popular with expats, we had decided to go there for a drink when we arrived in Mumbai.  This time it was mine and Stews turn to get separated. After a toll gate and a load of traffic there was no sign of the van. We had no way of contacting each other so headed straight to Leopolds hoping the others would think the same. We fought our way through the traffic asking for directions to the Colaba area. One guy we asked said I'm going that way so he jumped on the back of my bike and directed us to Leopolds. There was no sign of the van, we went and got fuel then back to Leopolds, on the other side of the road in the distance was big sal! We sounded our trademark tune on the bikes horn which got the lads attention. We were back together. We parked the van up on a nice street, had a few beers then went to bed in the van.

The following day we had a fair bit to do. We wanted to find a shipping agent and get the ball rolling for shipping the van home. Me, Stew and Dunny rode to the port, after being sent to the customs house then back to the main gate we found a few agents. Stew went into one, me and Dunny another. Stews looked promising, he was in their office for about an hour until they turned around and said sorry we don't deal with this sort of shipping. Me and Dunny made a bit more progress, got a quote but didn't have much confidence in the agent. It wasn't looking particularly good, we were about to give up for the day then me and Dunny spotted one more agent. We went in and were impressed. He gave us an itemised quote explaining all the costs. We exchanged contact details then headed back to the van.

It was our last night in Mumbai for a while so we decided to have a night out. We had some pre drinks in the van. Stew had met a guy from Monaco earlier in the day so he came along too. Before long there was a small gathering of locals around the van. There was a group of school kids who were becoming really annoying, they were trying to grab anything they get there hands on. We asked them nicely to leave a few times but they didn't listen. Gaz came up with the solution. A few blasts of the powder fire extinguisher in the rough direction did the trick. The whole area was in a white cloud. There was no more sign of the kids. We headed to a couple of bars and a club.

The following day we met a Belgian guy and French girl. The Belgian guy had cycled from Belgium to India. He wanted to go to Goa by bus but taking his bike on the bus was troublesome. We took it down and planned to meet them in Goa.

Later that day we left for Goa.

Rob

After Pokarah, border town and Varanasi

After pokarah we had arranged to go canyoning on the edge of chitwan national park in an area of famous jungle, where they do elephant safaris and where I had been years before on my first trip. Unfortunately we didn't have time for a safari.

We arrived at the start point, a hotel, it was quality! We were on the edge of a big river with straw huts and a bar on the beach. Dunny had hurt himself to badly to do canyoning... He'd fallen off a cliff... 4 times!

The canyoning was class, we hiked along a river to the top of a 60ft waterfall which we where to absail down. The walk had taken it's toll, we had all slipped and fallen more than once and where bleeding, the guides dogs where leading the way and seemed to be taking the piss as they bounded up things we struggled with. We started with a natural slide along the river that was cut into the rock. It was mine and Scottish's first time absailing and we where strapped on and off, after a quick briefing which would not have counted for anything at all in the uk. Getting off the edge was the hardest bit, trusting myself and the knot. Once over the edge with the water crashing down on me I loved it! We had another waterfall on the way back and a plunge pool, although this first one was the best.

*

Back at the hotel we'd arranged to stay for the night, for £4 each well happy. They the. Proceeded to show us to our tents! Are you retarded? You've seen us turn up in a camper with beds, why would we then pay for a tent with no beds? Needless to say we left and headed towards the border. A bad night sleeping by the road and we where at the birth place of Buddha. What a waste of time, just a few ruins that we couldn't be bothered to walk the 12 miles to see. We did see a bloke with the most disgusting piles we have ever seen! Hobbit don't have shit on that! This bloke was squatted by the road and was literally shitting out his insides! Bigger then a coke can by miles!

The border was now in sight! Hello India! We passed through the Nepalese side without issue, this was great news as when Gaz crashed...add that to the list Dunny...we where told by police that we couldn't get out without paperwork! Ha screw you! On the way into India we where sent back to customs... "Do you have your Carnet de Passage?" Umm... Nope. 

After two days of listening to jobsworths and people with massive egos and we where still without Sal. How this country functions with so much paperwork and lazy beurocrates I dont know. The van was stuck at the border, whilst we where to continue and try to get a Carnet sorted on the way. As useless the guys at the border where it was an interesting, if not enjoyable experience. They where also very hospitable and the top boys (who did nothing except read the paper, boss people around, shout for a stapler and sign the occasional paper) ordered us breakfast and lunch off their lackeys. 

Next stop Gorkpur, hoping that the hotel would be better than the COD set from last night! The hotel was banging! We stayed in the former home of the first deputy police commissioner from the days of British occupation. This colonial mansion is now run by his grandson and there was a wedding there during our stay, good fun and a nice place to chill for a couple of days. The big differences we've noticed so far is the filth, India is disgustingly dirty! The people, they love us!  And the poverty, India has more incredibly poor people than anywhere else we've been.

The train to Varanasi was a nice journey through rural India, field and small hamlets to the backdrop of a red sunset, with mist rolling over the fields. Varanasi itself was like something out of lord of the rings once you got to the far side of the Ganges and looked back across, enormous buildings standing right on the river front and bodies burning up and down the river. Very impressive. On the boat a young lad with great English and a really cheeky selling tactic sold us some floating candles with flowers on. We all brought some and lit them for a family member, to give them luck, the overall look when loads of different boats with people on where doing it all at once was class.

We signed up for a tour, £6 each and we got a tour of the city where we went to a monkey temple where they queued up for hours to walk one way around the centre piece and a guard whacked any monkey that came close enough to him, one baby monkey squeaked and jumped up on it's mother who scarpered up the building. Another temple had the weirdest electric puppet display, proper freaky!

That night we went out on the water and watched the sunset then a religious fire show with drums and dancing. Religion is nuts! 

All the kids here fly these little kites that get to tremendous heights, pretty impressive and some get so high that it takes a while to work out who's flying them.

On the bank with all the buildings however it was a bit of a different tale, rubbish piled up and a stench of urine was unavoidable and it was astonishing that people burnt their families amongst all this crap. We did however get to play the locals at cricket and that was class...although we lost, when Scottish came into bat they all laughed as he held the bat like a faggot. I was still the worst though.

A frustrating start to India 

Stew

Erenhot to the Great Wall

After meeting jimmy our guide we proceeded to clear the van into china. It was all going well till they informed us that we needed to leave Big Sal at the border for a day to sort relevant paperwork. This meaning spending a night at a hotel in the reasonably smart town of Erenhot. Quite good to get a shower and a decent nights kip ready for our adventure through china. Straight away we noticed the difference from Mongolia. There was a system, roads that were roads, clean streets and everyone seemed to be doing something.

The next morning we woke up bright and early to go collect Big Sal. She was free and we were ready to hit the road en route to the mighty Great Wall. The roads were class, didn't take us long to knock the miles off. Stopping at a old dinosaur site was a highlight of the drive. The general industry in china was noticeable straight away, every town had factories standing out from miles away. After making good progress we hit a stinking traffic jam holding us up for hours, only to find out we were in the wrong bloody que. The drive following this was stunning which made up for it. 

The next morning was the Great Wall. Booooommmmmm!!! As we approached, all around you could see the wall stretching along the hills. Winding in and out, up and down. Quite an impressive sight. Amazing to think they built in thousands of years ago. The first part of the wall to visit was a more touristy section Bandaling. Built in1368-1644 and heavily restored in the 1950s. It was a stronghold point, a fort surrounded by a series of walls running into the rolling hills with many watchtowers scattered throughout. One of the watchtowers was a place they used to set fires to raise an alarm of an attack for the rest of the wall to let others know the wall had been breached. There was hundreds maybe thousands of people so we were keen to move to a less touristy spot. But before that perfect opportunity for a where's willy!

The next spot that we arrived at was a part of the wall that had not been rebuilt. It was to much of a walk so we proceeded to the next part Mutianyu. A 3km section with 26 watchtowers built in the Ming dynasty

We caught the chair lift to the top of the wall. Trying to walk as much of it as we could before it shut. This part of the wall was rebuilt to a really good standard, until we reached a part that was still in ruins. It was good to see what it really looked like. After chilling for a bit we headed back down. Finding a perfect spot for some photos, we stopped and got our camera man (jimmy) to take a few photos. We noticed a few people looking up at us as were in full posing position. Oops we obviously had no clothes on. A few people had a eyeball of all three of us. Next thing was the slide away, basically a toboggan type thing that takes you down from the top of the wall to ground level. "Your a pussy if you use the breaks" we didn't we nailed it down! Every little junction Chinese blokes telling us to slow down. Bollocks to that we went even faster! Cya! 

At the bottom we met a few Germans who were keen for a lift to Beijing. As we were going that way they jumped in and Beijing was in our sights. 

Dunny 

Beijing birthday

Getting into Beijing was easy enough as jimmy had been to uni there, we dropped ze Germans off and found a tidy hostel and arranged to meet them later for a drink. We had a quick turn around and got down to the hostel bar. After chatting to some Swiss, Swedes and a Yank, together we headed out to meet Ze Germans lakeside. Our taxis split up and we had no way of getting hold of each other as Dunny and Jimmy (the only 2 with phones) where in the same car... Well thought through! Pissed we wandered around the lakes looking for them, after about an hour we where giving up when we spotted some whites... Ze Germans! Then almost straight after we met Dunny and co. Jackpot! Keen to make up lost time we headed to a bar £3.50 a drink jog on! A man promised to take us to a bar for £1.70 a drink, off we went and got some beers. Sitting round chatting we started to realise there was a really high ratio of women to men. Bit more chatting and beers, they're not wearing much. Few more beers and "would you like a woman?"... Definitely in a brass house! One of our number was extremely happy about this and had mixed emotions as we moved on. A great night was finished off with singing on the way home and back at the hostel. Big day tommorrow!

Woke up feeling rough! Only one thing for it at 10am...firewater and a trip to the forbidden city! As it was my big day I had very little to say in the proceedings. A great bag and hat combo later and I was ready for one of the most famous places in china and the number one thing to see according to the lonely planet. In all fairness it was pretty cool. Ringed by a 52m-wide moat at the very heart of Běijīng, the Forbidden City is China’s largest and best-preserved collection of ancient buildings, and the largest palace complex in the world. So called because it was off limits for 500 years. Jimmy tried his hardest to educate us on the history of china as we ran around the forbidden city, chasing each other, photo bombing and trying to out gay the Chinese photo's (a very hard task but i think we managed) one fact that stands out from Jimmy's speale is that the emperor had 1000 wives in one room... and they don't even make sandwiches in china! After falling/diving into a cauldron and kicking a man in the face in the process, jimmy finally gave up on us and agreed that we should move on. The first thing on the boys agenda was a shopping trip to get me something suitable to wear...a Chinese ladies dress. 

In the silk market they sell everything! We decided to come back sober to spend more time looking around, at that moment we went only to dress shops. We found the perfect dress, tried haggling but when you start the conversation with "lads that is f@#king perfect!" You're never getting far. I was obliged to immediately put on the dress and walk around the silk market, still with firewater in hand. As Chinese people take photos of normal white people a large white transvestite really got their attention! 

After an interesting tube ride we arrived at the hostel at happy hour! Luck continues!  They loved the dress and more photos where taken. Then the staff brought me out a birthday cake and sang me happy birthday. Jimmy is a proper lightweight! After one drinking sesh with the English he was sick on himself and put to bed, he was trying his hardest to be professional too... Chin up son! Things quickly escalated as we got people of all nationalities in on ring of fire, they loved it! King is sing then put it back in. When we eventually brought our own firewater down, the staff noticed after a while and decided this was enough of a reason to send us to bed. Back in the room with the firewater and Dunny hit dribble mode, then aggressive mode, 'Nobby you Scottish t#%t don't tell me what to do' mode as Nobby tried to put the not walking Dunny to bed as he swang at him " try and hit me again and I'll drop you!" Me and Nobby headed out, didn't get far and stumbled back to find James asleep on the road... He'd managed to walk again. We put him over our shoulders and headed back. My night ended here and I can't remember falling asleep in a thong, Dunny somehow got a second wind and made it out with Nobby and a New Zealander. His second wind didn't last long though and he passed out in a bar...on the New Zealander. When Nobby finally put him to bed he still had his shoes on. Unlucky son! He got nail varnish to the face and eye brows. At some point during the night he got his trousers halfway down and it looked well dodge! All the people in the hostel got treated to a great view through the window of our room...

The next day we went to the silk market and brought electrics, what a place! Everything you could want to buy under one roof. Haggling people, every shop with a "fixed price" sign, the best fake electrics ever and also dress shops. Later we went to a Kung fu show put on by the ancient shaulin monks. It wasn't great, more a love story than what we wanted...people doing acrobatics with Kung fu is what we'd expected. We think Jimmy was on a bit of an earner by taking us there. 

Anyway, we've had a class time in Beijing now onwards to mount Tai.

Stew

Delhi and Hardiwar

I said farewell to my Dad and booked into Zostel in Delhi to wait for the lads to arrive.  It was good to meet up again after a month of being apart. We had some decisions to make with regards to what to do with the van which was still impounded at the border. It was 3weeks until the girls arrived in Goa so we had to decide fast. After investigating every possibility it left us with two options.

Option 1-hire a van, drive the hire van to the border town, empty our belongings and anything worth any money, say goodbye to big sal, drive back to Delhi, ship belongings home and continue by backpack.

Option 2 - send a load of money off to the RAC in England for the carnet of passage, then hope they can process the carnet and deliver it to Delhi in 2weeks, half the time it normally takes just to process it. 2 weeks left us with one week left to get to Goa to meet the girls for Christmas, it was cutting it very fine by possible.

A carnet of passage is a document which allows a foreign vehicle to be temporarily imported to a country without paying import duty. The affiliated automobile association from the country where the vehicle is registered (RAC in the UK), needs to guarantee that if the vehicle is not exported within the permitted 1 year allowed they will pay the relevant import duty.  It is therefore the responsibility of the vehicle owner, us, to pay a whacking great big deposit to the RAC for them to issue the carnet. Half of the deposit will be returned to us when we prove the vehicle has left India.

We obviously made a spreadsheet to compare the costs and after a vote we decided to take the gamble and go with option 2. We sent the money off and were promised that the carnet would be fast tracked due to our situation and be processed within a week. Things were looking up.

Next on the agenda was to go Enfield shopping for Stew and Dunny. Stew found a nice 500cc bike and negotiated a good price. After the transaction was complete it was time for Stew to get on and ride it. 'Stew, it's 1 up and 3 down' Stew looked blank, 'ahhhhh the gears...' The vendor asked Stew, who had never rode a bike before, where are you heading? Stew replied with Kerala, 3000km away. The guy looked shocked as Stew stalled a few times then wobbled his way down the road.

Next was Dunny's turn. We found a shop on the next road with a very nice looking 350 for a good price. After a bit of tweaking and fine tuning the bike was ready and the money had changed hands. It was Dunny's turn to make a fool out of himself. After struggling to get it to start, and a few  stalls he was off, like a rocket almost taking out a pedestrian.  To finish off their first lesson we hit Delhi rush hour.

During this time Gaz was bed bound, his Delhi belly was still in full swing. He had a problem with farting in his sleep, but the farts weren't only farts. After soiling his boxers he went for the 'wrap yourself in a towel' approach. All this meant was he woke up with a shitty towel. He had yellow bile coming out of both ends but was gradually on the mend.

We were excited, we had three Enfields and were all competent motor cyclists, sort of. That evening there was one thing for it, go for a blast around Delhi. Gaz was felling well enough to get out and was able to controll his bowels. We smashed it around Connaught Place, a ring road system around New Delhi centre. It felt like we were on the Cheltenham cruise. Next stop was India Gate, again a massive roundabout circling the India Gate archway. Dunny's bike developed a knocking sound so we pottered back to the hostel.

Our plan was to head off early towards the mountains but we had to go via the bike shop to repair Dunny's. They stripped the engine down and found the problem. The big end bearing had disintegrated leaving chunks of white metal bearing shell in the sump. It needed a complete rebuild. This meant another night in Delhi and a good excuse for a night out. Delhi has a no drinking policy in most areas but one road is cordoned off as a drinking spot. We had a good night. We went to collect Dunny's bike at the agreed time and surprise surprise it wasn't finished. We were getting fed up of Indians constantly promising what they couldn't deliver. It was getting frustrating. 6 hours later Dunny's bike was back together.

We had some good news, the carnet had been processed and was on it's way to India. Eager to get out of Delhi for a few days we began heading north towards Hardiwar. Three bikes, with five of us in total. Me, Stew and Dunny riding with Gaz and Scottish on the back. As we were leaving the outskirts of Delhi, Stew and Gaz came past me and Scottish in traffic. Stew thought it was funny to look over and give us a rude hand signal, then whack, the joke was on him as he went into the back of a parked lorry. It was only slow so no real damage was done but hilarious.  It began to get dark so we started looking for a place to stay. It was wedding season and a Saturday so all the hotels along the main road were fully booked. After food and a puncture we managed to find one room in a hotel at 11.30pm. There was three in the bed and the little one said roll over. With the 5 of us in one room we settled down for the night.

The following afternoon we arrived in Hardiwar, a sacred town on the banks of the River Ganges. It was a nice town where many Indian pilgrims visit for a dip in the Holy Ganges. We had been tracking the status of our consignment and after going from Heathrow to Germany and back to Heathrow, it was finally on it's way to Delhi. This was our que to return. We put in a long day and got back to Zostel in Delhi at 8pm that evening. It was a shame we didn't have time to go 50 km further north, into the foot hills of the Himalayas but our time precious so we had to return.

We had a good and productive week, now we had our fingers crossed the carnet would arrive and we could free big sal.

Rob

Xian and Terracotta Warriors

We arrived in Xian after a long days driving. Jimmy had arranged to spend a few days at his cousins who lives in Xian. On the first day we got on the mountain bikes and went out exploring. As expected the city was massive, spotlessly clean and full of historical gems. We stopped at the largest water fountain display in Asia. It was pretty impressive. Then we continued on the bikes towards the town wall. Its a 16km long defensive wall surrounding the old city. The next stop was the Muslim quarter, bright lights, vibrant colours and amazing street food. After eating our way through the narrow streets, tasting everything that took our fancy, we decided to head back to the van, which was parked on the outskirts of the city....somewhere. It was Friday night and the city nightlife was beckoning. On our way back to the van we got lost, 'I could of sworn it was that way...' we stopped and asked some police for directions. They replied with 'follow us'. We followed the car full of 5 policemen the few km back to the van. It was getting on a bit so we decided to give the night out a miss promising a big one the following night.

We woke up excited because we were going to see the terracotta warriors. One of the big things we were looking forward to seeing on the whole trip. The warriors were discovered by a local farmer in 1974 when he was digging for a well in his field. The site consists of a whole army made from terracotta entombed in three pits by the first emperor of China. The army consists of 8,000 soldiers, 130 chariots with 520 horses and 150 cavalry horses spread over three aircraft hanger sized pits. No two soldiers or horses are the same, each with their own facial features. The detail on them was intricate enough to identify different hair styles which can be used to distinguish different ranks. The warriors were situated next to the emperors tomb and were said to be protecting him in his afterlife. They were built in 210BC and took 700,000 workers to complete. It was a pretty impressive sight.

Up until now we had been driving on fast but expensive toll roads. One days toll had totaled £120 on one of the big driving days. Jimmy had assured us they were the only option. On our way to the warriors we ended up on a Chinese national road, similar to our A roads in England. It was virtually toll free and allowed us to see so much more of 'real China'. We made the decision to only use the national roads from that point onwards.

On the drive back to Xian the two non drivers bought a couple of beers, we were ready for a big one. We parked the van up and had some pre drinks.  A few Cass Reds and fire waters later we were ready to hit the town. We rode our bikes into town stopping for supplies and also at the fountains again but for the night music/light show. We rode to the central bar street and locked the bikes up. We went to a few bars then ended up meeting some other travelers. After some karaoke we hit a club. A group of Chinese beckoned us over and offered us a drink, and another, and another. I thought something a bit fishy was going on so I stopped drinking and offered my drink to Dunny. He drank it but noticed something hard in the drink so spat it back into the glass. Out came a little black pill. That was our que to leave, we rounded up the group and headed to a different club. After some research the following day we discovered the black pill was most likely opium. Luckily everybody was OK. Our next task was to find the bikes, which proved much more difficult than anticipated. After walking around Xian for two ours we gave up and returned to the van in a taxi, without the bikes. We woke up and went on a search for the bikes. After an hour we found them locked up to the same lamppost, pretty lucky!

We spent the rest of Sunday recovering from our big night out and eating our body weight in Pizza Hut. We really enjoyed Xian, it was on a par with Beijing and Shanghai for our favourite city in China.

Rob.

Delhi

We arrived back to Delhi and dropped my bike off at the shop for them to begin work on the paint job. I swapped it for one of their hire bikes for a few days whilst mine was being painted.

We had about three days until dad's flight back to the UK. We researched things to do in Delhi and started ticking them off. The red fort - an old walled royal settlement and fort, Qutab Minar - an ancient temple and tomb settlement, India gate -  a huge archway war memorial, Janter Manter - an old site used for observing stars and time keeping and a park area. We weren't too bothered about seeing each sight but it was more of an excuse to ride the bikes and gave us a purpose and a route. The ride to the red fort took us down Chandni Chowk, the oldest and busiest market road in Old Delhi, and we ended up going down the wrong side of the road!

On the roads you have to avoid tuk tuks, cows, scooters, cows pulling carts, camels pulling carts, horses pulling carts and the occasional pig. There's no concept of queuing to wait your turn, everyone just fights their way through carving each other up. Considering the amount of chaos and the occasional bump there is very little road rage, people just accept that's how it is and get on with it. Out on the roads there is a big range of potent smells. Rotting garbage, amazing spices from street restaurants, human excrement from open sewers and nice smelling incense.

There are some sad and thought provoking sights whilst walking around at night. You see whole families with young children bedding down for the night on a pavement under a bridge, all huddling under one blanket. You see a significant number of people begging who have extremely bad health, missing or deformed limbs and skin conditions. It makes you really appreciate the healthcare and welfare systems at home. It makes you feel pretty shit after spending a reasonable amount of money on a motorbike which would of been enough to fund a basic shelter for a family. But that money has gone into the Indian economy one way or another which is better then not spending the money at all.

Each night me and dad did the same routine. Walk under the bridge and go to what we named the bridge cafe. Each night we ate the same food, two stuffed naans, a chilli paneer and large chi. The naans are cooked in charcoal fired ovens, they are stuck to the inside of the barrel. We got to know the staff quite well. Each night after food we walked about a mile to Conaught Place, three contra direction roundabouts inside each other. The centre one is about a mile long lined with nice shops and Western takeaways. We had a mcflurry most nights. MacDonalds only sell chicken and make it clear on signs that not pork or beef is sold there. But still tuk tuk drivers, who are normally fighting for our custom, would refuse to take us to MacDonalds because they disagreed with the company due to religious regions.

We went to check on the work being done to my bike. They had stripped the whole thing down to the frame which was also getting painted. It looked like they were doing a through job.

I said my farewell to dad. We had a good week together and I enjoyed seeing what I had heard so many stories about from my childhood.

The lads arrive in Delhi. It was good to meet up with them after 3 weeks apart.

I collected my bike from the shop and it looks lovely, very pleased with it.

Rob

Purchasing some Royal Enfields

36 years ago dad rode his motorbike to India from England. He lived in a small Indian village for 9 months in total. We had decided to try and find the village and re-trace some of his steps and what better way to do it than on Royal Enfield motorbikes.

An Indian company bought the Royal Enfield brand, designs and production equipment from the original English company and set up making the bikes in India in 1955. They are still made here today.

We had arranged to meet our driver from the Golden Triangle, Ram, to show us a place he knew for me to buy one and dad to rent. He didn't show up at the agreed meeting place so we headed back to the travel agent to try and contact him. They also knew a place and began making phone calls. We arranged to see a couple and got in their car. We pulled up in a lay by which was a bit strange because we thought we were going to a garage/showroom. 10 mins later two Enfield bullets turned up. They took me up the road on the back then offered me to ride. I had never ridden a bike bigger than 125cc semi automatic so getting on the Bullet on the busy Delhi roads was a bit daunting. I rode it down the road, stalled it a couple of times then arrived back in the lay by. We went off to think about it over a McDonalds.

We flagged down a tuk tuk and a couple of English speaking Nepalese lads moved over to make space. The driver asked what we wanted and we replied with buy a Royal Enfield. Luckily the English speaking Nepalese were able to translate exactly to the driver what we were after. He took us to a street full of motorbike shops known as Delhi motorbike market. Hundreds of bikes parked up, loads of Enfields and bikes blasting up and down the road. This was more like it. We approached a shop specialising in Enfields and he had two old ones parked out the front with our names written on them. They were such good value that dad bought one and will ship it home as well as an early 60th birthday present. We gave them a good look over and agreed a list of things to do to them. They began work immediately. Mine was older and needed more work, it was given new wheel bearings, new chain and sprockets, new clutch plates, new headset, new brake shoes, new battery and new wheel damper blocks. Basically every wear item on the bike. Dad's was much better to start with but got the same thorough inspection and worn parts replaced where needed.

It took two days to complete the work. We spent most of that in the workshop drinking chi, learning what goes where and checking all the work was completed as agreed. We bought piss pot helmets, glasses, security chain and sorted insurance through the seller. It was an interesting and good two days. The next task was to ride them back to the hotel. We paid the same tuk tuk driver who took us there to show us the way back. We gave ourselves a quick lesson, that one makes you go, that one makes you stop and that one changes gear. We were ready to hit statistically the worst roads in the world in Delhi rush hour! We got to the hotel fine. The bikes are brilliant. 350cc singles, kick start, lots of chrome and almost straight through exhausts. They're not quick compared to modern bikes but they sound brilliant, you can hear the individual firing strokes. After a week of riding we were returning to the shop for a re spray on each bike also included in the purchase price.

We were happy, we had two bikes and were all set for a weeks riding around North India.

Rob

Ride to Amritsar

Continuing dads route from 36 years ago we continued on towards Amritsar. The bikes were going well, cruising along nicely side by side, easy rider style. We stopped every 50km or so for a cup of chi from roadside dhaba's (restaurants). Indian chi is made of mainly milk, boiled with tea leaves, sugar and ginger then strained into the cup, it's bloody lovely and was always a good enough excuse for a 20 minute stop and leg stretch.

It took two days to ride to Amritsar, about 500km. The road was straight and wide but you still had to stay on the ball. There's no real rules on the road, just toot and go. It's predominantly drive on the left but if you miss your turning there's no problem with riding/driving down the wrong side of the dual carriageway.
I got squeezed between a tuk tuk and concrete barrier, good job I had the bull bars on the bike, they protected my leg when I hit the concrete. Each day when we arrived at our destination our faces were covered in black road grime. The air on the roads is pretty polluted.

We arrived in Amritsar,  about 20 km from the Pakistan border, and followed signs to the Golden Temple. The signs took us down the high street full of people. By chance we ended up in an underground bike park with 24 hour security. We parked the bikes right next to the guard then set off to find a place to stay.

We dumped our bags at the hotel and went to the temple. It is the most sacred Sikh temple in the world. It is the same as the Vatican city for Catholics or Mecca for Muslims. The temple itself is covered entirely in gold leaf and surrounded by a holy lake called the pool of nectar. The lake is surrounded by a gated precinct. We removed our shoes and covered our heads before we entered. We arrived as the sun was going down, it was lighting up the gold temple and making it glow. Pretty impressive looking. We went back into town for food then returned to see it lit at night. I think it looked even better at night.

Entry to the temple is free, they offer a free meal for every person regardless of faith and provide a place to sleep for the night. The morals of the place seem spot on and the Sikhs we met seemed very proud of it. The kitchen area was on an industrial scale, huge cooking pots and a massive line of troughs for washing up. Everyone was calm and friendly, it was a nice place to be.  We walked through the temple itself and up onto the roof. It's a lovely building covered in gold leaf.

The following day we left Amritsar and headed back to Delhi. We stopped at a town for breakfast and to have our bikes looked at. My gear selector was contacting the foot peg and making gear selection difficult. I also got my valve clearance adjusted and the chain tensioned on both mine and dads.

We continued back and came across a shopping mall complex. It housed a KFC, McDonald's and subway, it looked very out of place amongst the Indian agricultural land!

We arrived back in Delhi 2 days after leaving Amritsar. About 1000 km done in 4 days. The bikes went very well and are a blast to ride.

Rob

Pipli Khera

We set off on the national highway 1 from Delhi armed with two Royal Enfields.  We were in search of the village where dad lived for 9 months in the 70's. First stop was a town called Sonepat. It has completely changed since dad was here 36 years ago but he knew which road we needed to be on. We stopped at a police station to ask for directions, they were all sat on string beds drinking chi. They obviously had all the crime under control. We declined there offer of chi but followed a cop car back to the main road. He obviously thought we might struggle retracing 100m of straight road! Just up the main road was a big public school with a sign saying English speaking. We pulled the bikes up at one of the four security gates. They were a bit dismissive to begin with but gave in to our pestering and phoned an English speaking receptionist. She sent their private driver to the gate and dad explained we were looking for Pipli Khera. He directed us further 12 km up the national highway one. Back on the bikes we counted 12 km on the speedos. We stopped at a petrol station. The owner invited us into his office and made us chi. Dad explained what we were trying to do and mentioned the name of one of his old friends, Rameshwar Malik.

The owner said 'l know that family'. He got straight on the phone and rang Sanjay who then rang Pankaj. Pankaj, son of Rameshwar, didn't believe the petrol station owner, he said don't be silly. Eventually they were convinced it wasn't a joke so Pankaj and Sanjay were in the car on their way to meet us. Pankaj was a baby when dad was in the village so didn't remember him. However he knew about dad as the Englishman who rode his motorbike too fast. Pipli Khera is a small village in Haryana, a million miles from a tourist destination which made dad's stay there very memorable for the villagers who passed on the stories to their children. Everybody we met, young and old, had heard of dad's stay in the village, it was a big thing for them to have a foreigner living with them.

We left the motorbikes with the petrol station owner and got in Sanjay's car. He drove us to the village and we visited a few buildings where dad used to stay. One in particular was a 1st floor room over a buffalo shed where he lived for three months (photo). The village had changed dramatically, what was a population of 2000 is now 5000 but luckily some familiar buildings were still standing.  When we were walking through the village a few heads popped up, one in particular over a roof parapet wall. The elderly residents remembered dad and were pleased to see him. We had chi in the courtyard, where dad used to park his bike, with the brother of one of dad's old friends and a few locals. Dad was pleased to hear that most of his old friends were still about and we were able to meet up with them that afternoon.

We got back in the car and headed back for Sonipat, where the families were now living. We met Rameshwar, the person dad spent most time with and Sanjay's father, Ved Singh. Dad was again being remembered by people as the man who rode his motorbike too fast. Then back in the car to go and visit an Indian theme park called Chokhi Dhani. It is owned by Sonita and her husband. Sonita was also from the village.
We had a nice lunch then went back to the petrol station to pick the bikes up. Then we rode to Veesan's house where they kindly put us up for the night. We were driven to Sanjay's farm to have a look around. They were harvesting basmati rice and planting wheat in it's place. The fertile land of Haryana allows two harvests per year, one of rice and one of wheat. They showed us their buffalo and cow sheds.

That evening we returned to Chokhi Dhani theme park and met Sonita and her family. There was a Rajistani cultural experience with dancers, music, camel rides, magicians and traditional food. We were invited to Sanjay's car in the car park for a few beers. It seemed to be quite a popular drinking spot because alcohol was not served inside Chokhi Dhani. They ordered pakoras and bhajees which were delivered to the car. After beers we went back inside to the Rajistani restaurant where we sat on the floor and ate a meal off banana leaf plates. It was a good evening which we spent most of the time eating and drinking.

Lots of people we met recalled a story from 36 years ago. When dad was at the village he had to do some work on his bike so went to the bike mechanic in Sonepat. Lots of locals crowded around dad and the mechanic. The mechanic had heard dad's bike was fast in comparison to theirs so asked dad how much horsepower his bike was, he replied with 68. The most powerful bike in India at the time was 8 horsepower (measured in a slightly different way). The mechanic made a joke and everybody laughed along with him at dads claim, he said this foreigner doesn't have a clue, his bike can't be 68 hp. Dad said 'get your helmet'. He took the mechanic out and opened it up down a straight, through an s-bend and over a hump back bridge. The mechanic was actually shaking and white with fear when he got back. We learned on this trip that the mechanic had told his Indian friends some time after that if he was offered every property in Sonepat  (population 20,000) he wouldn't get back on that bike! We went to the same courtyard where the mechanic was based 36 years ago (photo of gates).

Later on in the morning the family barber arrived and we had a shave in their front garden.

We had a brilliant two days with the Malik family and their hospitality was generous and welcoming. It was excellent for dad to return and also for me to see where I had heard so many stories from throughout my childhood.

Rob