LEARNING TO DELHI DANCE

 

Delhi to Srinagar... hot work!

Listening to LE FREAK bY Chic 1978 

It's 1978...

Deano's got hair, and Marianne's has a lapse of judgement in boyfriends.  

THE REST IS HISTORY!

Yes folks, smash this one on, spin that knob up to eleven, and suddenly you're back at SAM's disco at the Redlegs Club greasing up the floor! 

Nile Rogers awesome funk rhythm on the Stratocaster

helps propel this classic disco number to seven million 

sales and number one on the Billboard Hot 100

Welcome to Delhi.

It's ten pm, still thirty degrees, and there's a kinda muggy thickness to the air. Brian and I are finally finished our eighteen hour flight from Oz and are now locked inside a tiny Suzuki taxi van wizzing along Delhi's shadowy main inner roads hopefully  towards our hotel. 

The driver looks pretty crook...

 actually, he looks like shit!

He mops away at his dripping face with a giant grimy rag and hawks and gurgles while deftly splitting lanes, tailgating and blowing his horn at all the other lane splitters, tailgaters and horn blowers who dare share our road. Suddenly he kinda chokes, attacks the window winder, and hawks a giant oyster out the side window into the shadowy darkness.

  I'm thinking its kinda funny, you know, different cultures and all, 

who am I to judge? Maybe this is normal...

 Suddenly, he pulls up in the middle of the road, throws the door open and hawks  an even  bigger one out onto the steaming bitumen and sits there with his head down moaning for a minute or so... gulp... I'm not touching him if keels over. Fortunately he comes good and is back on the job mopping at his dial while  winning the Delhi Gran Prix. We zoom around the edge of some sort of deep dark park thing in the middle of the city when once again  he hits the brakes, pulls up, and smashes on the hazards while  blocking the outside lane. He bounds out of the van and disappears into the darkness behind a huge tree. 

Brian and I look at each other... 

he must be taking a leak right... 

but... he's gone ages! 

 When he finally returns he opens the passenger door, grabs an ancient used water bottle off the floor, and pours something all  over his hands. Another one nostril oyster on the road, and he's driving off with dripping hands and renewed gusto... eek. 

Yeah nah buuut, now he's lost, aaaaargh.

Aaaand I have to show him how to get there on my phone. I try to show him without him touching it but he grabs it for a sec to steady it and now I'm sure we're gonna die of covid or something before we even get started... yech! We finally get to the hotel where he demonstrates remarkable speed for a sick person, and  bounds round the back of the van first man handling our bags and handing them to us... 

NOOOO.... 

Hey Brian... yes mate...

 did ya bring lots of hand sanitizer?

Can you see where we're going Brian? 

Nope... maybe lucky huh!

LEARNING TO DELHI DANCE

Ok we've done the research, we know it's hot...

but... cripes!

It's Friday morning 9.30, its mid thirties heat and we are sweating big time!

 Brian and I are stuffed into a Tuk Tuk (motorised rickshaw?) threading our way through Delhi traffic to Tony Bike Centre to grab our bikes. We are laughing our heads off as the extra large size driver (curiously not sweating) deftly taktaktaks through the traffic mayhem practising admirable collision avoidance on every side. God it's hot. On arrival at tennish we wait for the staff to arrive before being ushered upstairs by a handsome young fellow to complete the mountain of paperwork. We knock over some delicious chai as we pretend to read and understand agreements of if this or that  happens and happily sign our lives away a dozen times. Then it's off a block away on foot to inspect the bikes. 

Oh oh.... erm... the bike I've signed up for is a Scram, 

not quite an Enfield Himalayan as ordered. Kinda close, mostly the same, but not as adventurous and kinda suits short people and city riding...  aaargh! Sigh... I'm still a bit wrecked from the flight and the heat and it's not what I've ordered so I have a bit of a whinge. There's nothing else available and the local lads are scratching their heads and eventually bring in the big boss Rajesh to sort it. Rajesh is a total gentleman and I can see he really wants to help and he even offers to bang a bigger front wheel in (!) and change other stuff 

buuuut, I surrender, sigh, looks like

its the Scram for me!

So this is my Scram... and below is what I kinda

had in mind. Ah well, as the charming Mala said

"maybe someone up above has a different plan for me"

OK, she is way too nice to doubt!

Thankyou someone up above... I think!

We go back to the main office and meet the charming Mala,

 who supplies us with a pile of valuable tips on staying alive and places to stay. 

Then it's off to grab some bags nearby aaand then... it's time to ride back to the hotel. The hotel is only a couple of K's away and with no small trepidation we mount up and pour into the never ending flow of Delhi traffic.

What a hoot!

So imagine you can ride anyhow you'd like to on the road. If there's a gap, or even half a gap, just zoom on in there, if someone cuts you up or you cut someone up who cares, just take a breath smile and move on. Horn usage every few seconds is mandatory, not cos you're angry, just hey I'm here champ and I'm goin round, under or over you! Why waste time waiting at traffic lights if nobody is coming, just keep on going! Of course the fact you're encased in a horn blowing, smoke and heat belching, weaving and braking, river of scooters, cows, trucks, bicycles, cars, tuk tuks,  dogs, tricycles, pedestrians and the odd horse and cart does erm,

lift you're concentration level a little... actually, 

it's mental!

Brian outside the hotel ready to go...

He's super organised and a super early riser!

Sooo, I'm not gonna even enter that race!

So mate our first meal in India... yummy

...and still behaving itself inside!

View out the window on the first night.

Drinks, chips, hardware, or what about a new dog sir.

Mate he won't fit in my bag... oh yes he will, he's a very clever dog!

Yeah nah all good.

There's a gap past the white car, go for it!

Let's review this, its 38 in the shade and it's a crap road.

Why did we come here again?

Wow over 38 outside and only 37 in here with the fans! 

Winner!

THE HEAT IS ON

The next morning we're up early keen to get out of Delhi. It's already mid thirties and we're dripping wet before we start. I have to say the ride out of central Delhi blew my mind. Of course the traffic was crazy, it's always crazy, but the stuff of life going on in the packed streets we rode through was mind boggling. Markets, food stalls, garbage, cows, non stop horn blowing, bullocks with or without carts, rickshaws, people selling stuff, people carrying stuff, people sitting anywhere, soldiers, beggars, more garbage, roads totally torn up with pot holes and mud, police, sewage smells, spice smells, sweat smells, food smells... bloody amazing! 

It's like being in a movie where the director yells action and the whole scenery comes alive around you. Just the best best memory, which is kinda fortunate as it was impossible to photograph while swimming midstream!

Hmm that front tyre looks tastier than the

 garbage I've been munching on!

Do not enter one of these and expect it to stop or have brakes!

This huge stationary engine thing thumps away grinding up cane and makes juice. Stationary engine and sweet stuff, I want one!

All trucks have this on the tail gate. Mashing the horn button 

just doesn't have the same psychological effect 

when they ask politely for it!

Just Hot.

Once we cleared Delhi it just got hotter and hotter and the scenery was pretty  ordinary. The traffic on the open road is a weird mix of super slow tractors, trucks, buses, and tiny cars, playing a dangerous game of open road Tetris  with families in late model SUV's full of luggage and kids going way too fast carving everything in their path. When I say carving I mean within inches at high speed. Yikes! There's no cops or speed limits that I could tell, just everyone sets their own pace. As for us, well, eighty - ninety kph  seems to be sweet and almost safe. 

It's not a pleasant ride. 

The scenery is scorchingly ordinary with hundreds and hundreds of kilometres of what we might perceive to be struggle street, bathed in a steaming blue smokey haze. We eat at roadside open tin shed restaurants, vaguely cooled by ridiculously noisy fan blowers which threaten to blow our food right off the table. We spend the first night in a hotel on the highway just out of Chandigarh and move on to Pathankot the next night. The hotels are kinda ordinary but hey, we only need somewhere to sleep, maybe some air-conditioning, and a shower. There's no hot water at either hotel but the water coming out of the tap at air temperature is almost warm enough anyway. The relief from the heat is fleeting as each morning we are yet again bathed in sweat packing our bikes before we leave.

Random night time shots of people at work.

As soon as it's dark and the temperature drops 

a few degrees people get stuck in.

Hold my bag for me will ya mate.

Hmm I wonder if the fan is hooked up!

Lost and Found

Day three on the road and it's time to try and make Srinagar and some cooler temperatures. It's a longer ride but we set out early hoping to arrive mid afternoon. Once again we are ground down into a ridiculous melange of  heat traffic and road works. It's dog eat dog getting through the crowded scrum of  lumbering trucks buses and cars. We get separated and lose blue tooth connection. Aaaargh. I wait forty five minutes in the heat but no Brian. I whip out the !@#kin mobile phone with a new Indian sim card which we purchased at the airport aaaand... no service! Crap! Seems we had crossed into the state of Jammu and in that state and Kashmir prepaid cards are shut down for I imagine security stuff. 

I'm taking the welder to my pushy as soon as I get home. 

Should get all my empties up to the depot and spend the 

measly five bucks on a ten dollar pint on the way home!

Yeh yeh stare at me I understand. Ya not gonna

see skinny legs this white too often. 

So... what to do. 

Well, Brian's my mate and what if he's had an accident. 

I remount and dive back into the dust and heat and ride most of the way back, aaaaand nothing, hmm. Well, what to do. I zoom back through the shit and get back on route and zoom onto the monkey road behind Jammu. What a great road, finally! I zoom through some great scenery and past numerous groups of monkeys but, as I'm still figuring out how to contact Brian, I don't get any photos. I stop at a roadside restaurant, beg some Wi-Fi and wait another hour while I email him to say I'm finally heading towards Srinagar although by now it's getting latish. The road from Jammu us to to Srinagar runs up the NH44 highway through some absolutely spectacular mountain scenery to Kashmir... but! The government is building some sort of monster highway through the mountains, maybe for military purposes, and most of the road is a nonstop winding obstacle course of dust and crawling trucks. Hours and hours were spent in first and second gear, blind passing in dangerous situations, and just non stop fine dust.

 I pass through crazy long tunnels under mountains, one I think maybe nine kilometres long and one so full of dust that visibility was maybe ten to twenty metres... so dangerous! 

My clutch hand aches from hours of clutch slipping and crawling, my back and luggage are constantly slammed by giant unseen potholes and my eyes are a red streaming mess from dust and searching for the next tiny passing opportunity. It begins to get dark and I stop at a village where most of the people appear Islamic and look for a hotel with no success. With maybe eighty kilometres to go I grab a half warm Coke from a roadside vendor, slam it down, burp loud enough to set off a land slide, and set off in the dark to Srinagar. The last part of road is a lot better  but is littered with slow and immobile vehicles with no lights making for a crazy unlit obstacle course.  I finally roll into town totally filthy with bulging eyes aching muscles and a fresh coat of nocturnal bugs. That night I stay in a cheap hotel on the edge of town at 1500 rupee ($30au), use all their hot water, and collapse for the night on the worst bed ever.

 Brian has emailed back - he's safe and also in Srinagar! 

All good but what a day!

More random empties collection vehicles.

So I was a way back behind Brian when these mutts took a disliking to him.

They started up a racket of barking and carrying on till the big head mutt appeared from around the corner. He took a good long look at Brian, and decided he wasn't worth even a sniff! He called off the gang and wandered back around the corner! Sorry  mate thumbs down for you on this one!

The monkey road... sorry no Monkeys!

Markets in Pathankot

Vote for me and you can have all the garbage you want!

Ain't I a pretty thing? Yeh I guess so...

Listening to DUST IN THE WIND Kansas 1977

Ok if you remember this one you're old! Produced

in 1977 by Kansas, a bunch of hippie sorts with way too much 

hair, it's still a great song. Give it a spin, sit back, and let the dust sweep over you... almost makes dust seem pleasant...

Wrong!

Do they write songs like this anymore...

Do they have hair like this anymore...

Maybe not!

REALITY CHECK

Brian and I are in Srinagar together at the Queens Palace Houseboat. So good he's arrived safe and well. It's stunning here, especially in contrast to what we've just been through. Both bikes have dragged us through the heat and crap so far and are running reasonably Ok. Brian's having a great time and doing well on the bike. Me, well, as usual I'm crook as a dog with the worst cold... bloody taxi driver!  I'm writing this sniffing away armed only with a totally soaked hanky and no medication. I guess I will have to wait a day or two to try and ward this mongrel thing off. I've lost my camera charge cable as well so it's 21st century time for me and I have to use the phone camera... shit... someone call a young person! Also my main debit card has been a pain to use... as in, it won't give me money (sorta why I brought it) so that's been a pain as weIl. I couldn't be happier otherwise. India and Kashmir has been an  eye popping contrast of awful and amazing. Just what I was hoping for. As we're about to get rather remote soon I'm not sure when the next blog will be...

stick with us!

NEXT, IT'S GOING UP TIME,

INTO THE MOUNTAINS WE GO!

Thankyou for all your comments 

and please keep them coming! 

I know it's a crappy process but 

they are all read and appreciated!