Four Boats And A Beer

The Brahmaputra divides the whole state of Assam in a nearly perfect half creating along its path a very fertile valley on both sides of the river. Lush green paddy fields, the Kaziranga national park, the tea gardens in Dibrugarh - Assam has a lot to offer to the tourist visiting there. Unlike me, a lot of tourists do not have the luxury of time while traveling in Assam. I had the luxury of time but still Assam is one place where I can look back and say "Been there and NOT done any of that".

Not that I had anything against Assam. I actually wanted to spend a lot of time there. Its just that Assam happened to be the wrong place at the wrong time. I had reached Guwahati after spending some 10 odd days in Bhutan. Trust me Bhutan tends to linger in your mind for some time. The fact that Assam is more of plains rather than hills doesn't help matters. When you are riding in the mountains for a long time and suddenly you reach the plains, the heat and the crowd in the plains get to you. You want to head back to the hills as soon as possible.  I thought I'll pay a visit to the Kaziranga national park before I head to Tawang in the Arunachal hills but then I am not really fond of animals. I do like them when they are cooked and if I can help save a tiger or two, I would gladly do it but then I don't like visiting them in their homes and I prefer that they too return the favour. So I skipped the urge (if we can call it that) to visit Kaziranga and headed to Tawang. After that I reached Itanagar, serviced my motorcycle in a shop that had just opened that day. My motorcycle had the distinction of being the first ever bike being serviced by that mechanic in his independent shop that he had opened along with two others. Well he did an average job but I was searching for a bike servicing center in that area and I just happened to ask him for directions and his enthusiasm won me over and I ended up getting it serviced from him. But I don't hold it against him. I really think his enthusiasm will make him a respectable mechanic one day.

So Majauli was my only chance to undo all the wrong and give Assam the chance it deserves. Majauli is the large fresh water island on the Brahmaputra river. Claims vary from being the largest fresh water island in the world to the 24th largest fresh water island in the world. It is home to the Mising tribe of people and it has its own unique traditions. The fact that it is an island would mean there would be boats to carry the motorcycle to the place and that is just an icing on the cake. There is something very romantic about loading your motorcycle on a boat and I was very excited about it. So I started off early morning from Itanagar and reached Khaboli ghat crossing North Lakhimpur and a drunk cop who just stopped me unawares at 9 in the morning somewhere on the way, looking to make a few bucks of me. Tactfully (which involves pretending like an Army officer on leave and giving him a contemptuous look) I avoided paying him anything and reached Khaboli ghat. The boat to take me to the other side was due in an hour and I decided to eat something in one of the huts nearby. While I was eating my poori sabji, I noticed men in a group all smiles drinking something. You don't need the IQ of an Einstein to understand that it is quite likely an alcoholic beverage. I was curious to check how it tasted and asked for a small sip and they gladly obliged.

Rice beer is one of the best things invented by man after the wheel . Since I had to drive I resisted the temptation to have more. But those guys egged me on and somewhere I have noticed that I have a big heart when there is alcohol on offer. I got one whole glass for myself, drank with them and by then it was time for my boat. I bid them goodbye and embarked on the boat. 

It was some 25 minute ride to the other side and I came to know from other passengers that I needed to cross two more islands to reach Majauli. Two more boats on the slight rice beer buzz would be just heavenly. I reach the other side, ride on the kutcha roads for some 15 min take the next 5 min boat. Then another kutcha road ride for about 10 min and another 5 min boat ride and finally I am in Majauli. I look for hotel rooms within my budget - they are filthy. I really wanted to stay a night there. If not for anything else maybe just for the rice beer. But with a heavy heart I went to the Majauli boat Jetty and caught the last boat to Jorhat - a 1.5 hour boat ride on the majestic Brahmaputra river, to head to Nagaland the next day. Check out the link below for the photographs of that day.

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.151801335026996.1073741867.101961743344289&type=3

Well Assam its not you its me. You are beautiful and your people were very nice to me. I am just a jerk. I never kept my promises and it was just one night stands with you. Please forgive me. One day I'll come back and we will take it to the next level.

Oh by the way please do not drink and drive. Unless of course it is rice beer and there happens to be four boats in the story.

About Me:

A 7 month motorcycle ride that took me to every state in India, parts of Nepal and Bhutan and one town in Burma. These blog entries are inspired by this trip. Stories about people I met, stories about places I saw. Things that intrigued me, things that amused me. They say traveling changes you, they say traveling inspires you and they say a lot of other stuff. I don't know. I think a gun on the head is a better way to change people. I just hope that my travel stories entertain you

Right now I am in the process of writing a book based on this trip and figuring out the difference between a writer's block and procrastination.

You can find more information on my Facebook page and Instagram account

The Indian Army - lest we forget

The Army - there is something about this profession that turns on every man. You are trained to kill, you fire guns at will and no matter where you are, most people in the country respect you. Also the amount of alcohol available for consumption at cheaper prices certainly does not hurt. Alright you can't really fire guns at will, I just wrote it because it rhymed but the point is there is so much pride and honour attached to the profession that if you have some or the other connection to the Army you try to associate yourself to it. Well I have it pretty easy - My father was an Officer in the Indian Army.

As an Army kid I have been raised in different parts of the country and as is the norm with Army kids I also used to arrogantly flaunt it around. A lot of Army kids have difficulty coming to terms with the fact that it is their parents and not them who are special and worthy of all the respect showered. Different people take different amounts of time but gradually every Army kid does get over it. Growing up in various Army cantonments with Army men all around, every Army kid has fancied himself to be an Army officer at least once in his life and even though he might have come to terms with his civilian life - the sight of the olive green rekindles in him with a thought of what could have been.

That is why the ride from Guwahati to Tawang was special. As a young officer my father was stationed in these parts in the late 1970's, early 1980's. Basically he was my age when he was there. Although grudgingly I must admit a lot more fit and a very lot more good looking. All throughout the ride whenever I see an Army installation or an Army officer pass me by, I would start imagining my Dad passing by these roads. (Although the black and white thing that happens when people do that in movies never happened. Maybe you need to look like a movie star too). In the evenings when I talked to him on the phone he'll keep telling me about how the roads were pathetic and how the place was very beautiful and I would tell him the roads have improved now. Now they are just bad but the place is as beautiful as ever. So I can just imagine how things would have been during the 1962 war.

Well for your benefit I'll try to give you an idea of the present condition of the roads. There's a place called Sappar and a place called Senge some 20 odd Kms from Sappar on the way to Tawang after you cross Bomdilla. There is a 5 - 6 odd Km stretch where roads are not yet constructed and the road is all slushy. Even in the slushy road there are 4 or 5 stretches about 100 or 200 odd metres long where your whole tyre sinks in the mud. When that happens you have no other option other than to accelerate and your bike starts swaying here and there but then you can't stop because if you do you just might get stuck. Going uphill is still ok cause no matter how much you accelerate you still move at a slow speed. Its when after you visit Tawang and you have to come back the same road that these stretches just scare the living daylights out of you. Its like white water rafting. Your bike starts moving like a raft in a rapid and you hardly have any control over your bike and the fact that you did not fall from the bike has nothing to do with your biking skills. Its just plain luck. The only thing I was trying to ensure was that the bike is on the side of the cliff and not on the side of the valley. After every such stretch I would stop my bike, smoke a cigarette to calm myself (Mom in case you are reading this - this line is just a creative liberty I take), pray to God that keep me single for the rest of my life if you want, but just make me cross these stretches safely. The moment I crossed the last stretch I was so elated that I stopped my bike, sat on the ground on the side of the road for some 10 minutes, looked in the sky and said "You know the thing about keeping me single the rest of my life was just a figure of speech. Do not take it very seriously".

Now imagine the year 1962. There is a war going on in these areas and the Chinese have captured a lot of territory. The Indian troops fighting are four days away from the nearest road. That means supplies are to be air dropped because mules have their limitations. Fuel (basically kerosene for cooking and all) is dropped in cylindrical drums and food items are airdropped via parachutes to the troops fighting over there. The terrain is hilly so a lot of these drums roll over to the Chinese side and depending on the wind, a lot of the food supplies also reach the Chinese side. For all you know if we had just poisoned the food supplies maybe a lot more Chinese casualties could have been inflicted. To make matters more interesting Chinese troops are fighting with AK - 47's and our troops fight with .303 guns wearing cotton uniforms in extreme cold conditions. Yet brave men fought valiantly and many laid down their lives to capture back these areas so that I could travel these parts 50 years later and act all cool about it. Suddenly the quotes inscribed in a lot of war memorials "When you go home, Tell them of us and say, For your tomorrow, we gave our today" start making a lot of sense.

It isn't about the patriotism. Patriotism is an overrated term that everyone from your politician to your cricketer, to your movie star, to just about anyone uses to win an argument in their favour. More than patriotism the Indian Army is about the professionalism. I love to quote this incident about Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw to anyone who cares to listen. At the time of partition the British Indian Army was split into the Indian Army and the Pakistan Army. Soldiers had a choice to either be in the Indian Army or be a part of the Pakistani Army. Sam Bahadur (as he is more lovingly known) chose to be in the Indian Army. Although technically a Field Marshal never retires but years later after he had finished active service, a journalist asked him what would have it been like had he joined the Pakistani Army. He just had his trademark witty retort "then I guess Pakistan would have won the 71 war". Not undermining his wit one bit, I also like to believe that this particular statement reeks of professionalism too. This is the kind of professionalism that sets the Army apart from a lot of other organizations in the country. Perhaps more than patriotism, what this country really needs is professionalism.

So if possible do travel to these far flung parts of the country. Most of them are such beautiful places that will just blow you away. Talk to someone who has been in the forces for quite some time, if you don't believe me. And if you happen to be traveling to Tawang do stop at the Jaswantgarh war memorial. Read the stories of the 62 battle over there. Come out and on the opposite side of the road the Army has a stall which provides free tea to all who pass by. Have a cup of tea and spare a thought for the soldiers. Not just the ones who were involved in this battle but for every man and woman who guard your borders. When you think of them never sympathize with them. Its the utmost disrespect you can ever show to a soldier. Reserve your sympathies for mediocre men because soldiers deserve better.

They are always meant to be saluted.

About Me:

A 7 month motorcycle ride that took me to every state in India, parts of Nepal and Bhutan and one town in Burma. These blog entries are inspired by this trip. Stories about people I met, stories about places I saw. Things that intrigued me, things that amused me. They say traveling changes you, they say traveling inspires you and they say a lot of other stuff. I don't know. I think a gun on the head is a better way to change people. I just hope that my travel stories entertain you

Right now I am in the process of writing a book based on this trip and figuring out the difference between a writer's block and procrastination.

You can find more information on my Facebook page and Instagram account

Barless in Jaigaon, Speechless in Bhutan

Bhutan is a mythical place. The stories you hear of Bhutan will always intrigue and excite you. You are full of expectations and you look forward to visit Bhutan. Bhutan conducts itself in sharp contrast to what the rest of the world considers normal or rather practical. Gross National Happiness instead of Gross Domestic product, preserving the forest cover instead of rapid industrialization and the reluctance to embrace globalization at a fast pace is very opposite to the conventional wisdom prevalent in most parts of the world. Critics and there are quite a few, might argue that it is Utopian dream - a bubble waiting to burst and burst out pretty loud. Well I am no expert. Maybe its just a Utopian dream and the bubble is set to burst. I just wanted to make sure I have visited Bhutan before the bubble bursts.

Walking an unconventional path often tends to create idiosyncrasies of their own. Bhutan is no different. There is so much confusion regarding entry formalities in Bhutan for tourists that no matter how much you research you are still bound to be a little confused when you reach the border town. In case you are Indian things are a lot easier but still a bit confusing. I have penned down my experiences in a blog at that time. I'll paste the link to that blog entry at the end of this post. I hope it would be of help to any Indian tourist who plans to enter Bhutan by road.

This entry however is the story of the evening when I was in Jaigaon. Jaigaon is the border town in West Bengal wherein you enter Bhutan through Phuntshooling. Jaigaon is like any typical Indian small town - chaotic, loud and unorganized. Being Indian I am used to all this and if I don't have to drive in these conditions I sometimes like it too. Where it is unlike a lot of other small towns is the fact that there is a very unimpressive gate just near the marketplace and on the other side of the gate is a different country. I reached Jaigaon in the evening and even in the fading lights I could make out that the other side was cleaner and more orderly. Anyway I found a hotel room some 200 metres from the border gate and checked in there for the night.

Like I mentioned there is a lot of confusion about entry formalities in Bhutan specially if you are a single traveler. I had read up on the internet that single tourists are not allowed entry and that sort of thing and I had pretty much prepared myself with the fact that I might not be allowed to enter Bhutan. Also as soon as I checked into the hotel, the reception guy who also acted as a tourist guide told me with a lot of conviction citing his years of experience as a tourist guide in these parts that single tourists will not be allowed into Bhutan. I anyway told him that since I had come this far I might as well try for it the next morning. He was supportive but it was the kind of support you tend to give to a losing cause just to keep you happy for some more time. I realized it and went to my room and I knew there was a problem. I really wanted to travel Bhutan and I realized I might have to do it some other time or if luck favoured me some motorcycle groups might end up here and I can tag along with them. I was trying to find solutions sitting and thinking about the problem in hand and after a while I realized the best way to deal with these problems is the most obvious one - go out get drunk and deal with the problem at the time when it is supposed to be dealt with. So I went out looking for a bar in that small town of Jaigaon to drown my sorrows in alcohol.

So I exited my hotel and took a right on the market road and walked a good 800 metres. Then I walked a little more. Then I walked back to my hotel and started walking in the other direction. I couldn't walk for more than 500 meters in that direction because of a fencing erected between the Indian and the Bhutanese borders. It was very surprising that I couldn't spot a single bar or a liquor shop all this while. I have slept the night in a lot of small towns during the course of my trip and I know for a fact that there is an alcohol shop in a 1 Km radius 90% of the times unless there is a religious significance to the city. Jaigaon is no significant city - religious or otherwise. Its only claim to fame is being the border town and even then most people will be impressed by Phuntshooling - the town on the Bhutanese side of the border. I was perplexed and thought of going back to my room but then I thought I'll just ask a shopkeeper for directions to the bar.

Thank God for that. He told me that there are no bars in Jaigaon and if you want to drink you need to cross over to the Bhutanese side some 100 metres away where you will find lots n lots of bars. Apparently Indians can cross over Phuntshooling town without any documentation. They just have to cross back to the Indian side by 9:30 pm IST (10:00 pm BST) before the border gates close. I crossed over, found a modest bar and suddenly understood the reason why Jaigaon is barless. Special Courier Whisky a very decent Bhutanese Scotch (I found it better than Blenders pride) was available for Rs 35 for a large peg. I had three different types of meat, one plate of fish and three large pegs of Special courier whisky and when I asked for the bill it turned out to be 325 Rupees. I was speechless. I decided even if I had to sleep with the immigration authorities in Bhutan I will do that but I'll make sure that I enter Bhutan.

Oh by the way just out of context a lot of people specially after watching the movie 'Lunchbox' tend to believe that 1 Indian Rupees equals to 5 Nu (Bhutanese currency). It is not the case. The Indian and Bhutanese currencies are of equal value.

Anyway the next day I did get an entry to Bhutan and NO I did not have to sleep with anyone. As it turns out the hotel reception guys conviction was misplaced and I traveled the entire breadth of Bhutan on my motorcycle. The landscape is something that will render you speechless. I remember riding through Eastern Bhutan and stopping every 10 to 15 min to click pictures and sometimes just to soak in the atmosphere. There is definitely something about Bhutan - I kid you not. The people, the places - its not something you will easily forget. Maybe its the Utopian dream they are trying to live. Maybe its impractical in the long run, so make sure you visit before the bubble bursts and Bhutan becomes just like the rest of us. But do pray and hope that the bubble never bursts.

About Me:

A 7 month motorcycle ride that took me to every state in India, parts of Nepal and Bhutan and one town in Burma. These blog entries are inspired by this trip. Stories about people I met, stories about places I saw. Things that intrigued me, things that amused me. They say traveling changes you, they say traveling inspires you and they say a lot of other stuff. I don't know. I think a gun on the head is a better way to change people. I just hope that my travel stories entertain you

Right now I am in the process of writing a book based on this trip and figuring out the difference between a writer's block and procrastination.

You can find more information on my Facebook page and Instagram account

P.S
This is my blog entry I had penned down about entering Bhutan. This is for Indian tourists only. Hope it is of some help in case someone plans a road trip to Bhutan.
http://thecluelessrider.blogspot.in/2013/08/guidelines-for-indian-tourists-entering.html

Of Football matches, Political agitations and being the only tourist in town

The football match between the Pelling school team and a visiting school team from a neighbouring village at the Pelling village football ground does not really look in the favour of the home team. They are trailing 1 - 0 in the second half and the whole crowd in this ground is hoping for an equalizer. Why am I watching a local school level football match ? I'll get to that later but the point is when you are in a small touristy village like Pelling and you are an outsider you can't really go unnoticed and to make it worse I happened to be there in a time when I was the only tourist in the whole village. Well there is a foul called by the referee and the home team just got a free kick from some 30 metres from the goal.

Pelling is a beautiful village some 80 Kms from Gangtok. Tourists flock this place for a beautiful view of the Kanchenjunga. The hotel rooms are generally packed and as one would expect that finding hotel rooms which offer a brilliant view are slightly heavy on your pocket. But if you plan it out smartly like the way I did you might get a good deal. I reach this place in the first week of August 2013 and I manage to get a spacious room with a king size bed with huge windows that overlook the kanchenjunga peak, very clean bathrooms with hot water etc etc all for a paltry sum of Rs 500 a night. All of this was achieved because the month of August being the rainy one over here and the month with a somewhat permanent cloud cover it is not exactly the tourist season. So rooms get very cheap. Well there is always one odd thing that you can ignore. I stayed there for three nights and not even once could I view the Kanchenjunga peaks.

Still being the only tourist in a village has its own charm. Since this village does receive its fair bit of tourists, a tourist wandering around is not probably an unfamiliar sight but then everyone looks in amusement thinking "What is this moron doing here at this time of the year" and chuckle. Fortunately people in these parts are sweet enough not to think it out loud. Other perks include that the only restaurant open in the village at night time (which closes by 8:30 pm) send their waiters to the hotel room (which is a good 500 meters away from the restaurant) to check if I am having dinner before they decide to close the place down. Most importantly though, a school level football match also kind of gets you excited.

Coming back to the football match and why the hell was I there ? Most unpredictable situations in this country can be blamed on the political climate prevalent and this one is no different. Had it not been for a political agitation in a neighbouring state, I might have in all likelihood missed this football match. A wonderful one I must add in hindsight and hence I am willing to take part of the blame.When I had started from Gangtok towards Pelling the fuel in my tank was on the lower side and skipped the intelligent advise of people I met in Gangtok to fill up the tank in Gangtok before heading to Pelling. Long story short when I reached Pelling in the evening, the fuel was on reserve. Now Pelling does not have a petrol pump in the village but ration shops sell petrol in bottles at a slightly higher price. So all was good or so I thought. The next morning I realized petrol was not reaching these parts of Sikkim because of the Gorkhaland agitations in the Darjeeling hills nearby and locals around convinced me that there is no fuel trucks reaching these parts and nowhere in a 40 Km radius is it likely to get any fuel. So that upsets all my plans of riding around to nearby places and monastries and come back to the room by evening. So when you sitting there laughing at yourself at being stuck in a village where you can't even view the Kanchenjunga peaks, someone somewhere mentions a football match that is about to start at the village ground and your eyes light up. I think why not. I just might be the lucky charm that this school football team of the Pelling village needs to decimate the visiting team. So I am here and there is this guy who is about to take the free kick which the whole crowd is hoping to be the equalizer.

At this point let me just mention I was taking still pictures in between the game from the sidelines. (https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.145712808969182.1073741857.101961743344289&type=3#!/media/set/?set=a.145712808969182.1073741857.101961743344289&type=3) Not that I am too much into high school level football but I just thought when I am very easily the odd one out in the crowd I might as well do some attention seeking stunts. I initially thought I might try my hand (or rather feet) at a bicycle kick or something like that but I generally resist the temptation to perform such stunts in the month of August and the seven months preceding and the four months succeeding August in the calendar. So I chose to take pictures instead. But there was something about this free kick. I just thought I'll take a video of this particular free kick as somewhere I believed this would be the equalizer. And it was. Here is the proof

I had imagined that the grateful villagers will come running up to me to celebrate the goal and there would be talks about constructing a monument in my honour in this particular village. Nothing of that sort happened and I was crestfallen that the villagers never acknowledged my contribution to the equalizer. I really believe I had a part and had I not captured that free kick in video the equalizer would have never been there. I guess it just serves them right that they ultimately lost in the penalty shootouts.

Oh by the way the next morning I did take a jeep taxi to the town 12 Kms away and got some Rs 450 worth of petrol from a petrol pump which was sufficient to make me reach the next petrol pump on the way to my next destination. Well it was a little difficult to procure the petrol - I'll give you that but it just was not impossible to procure as everyone in Pelling made me to believe. I guess I am not the only one who exaggerates for effect :)

About Me:

A 7 month motorcycle ride that took me to every state in India, parts of Nepal and Bhutan and one town in Burma. These blog entries are inspired by this trip. Stories about people I met, stories about places I saw. Things that intrigued me, things that amused me. They say traveling changes you, they say traveling inspires you and they say a lot of other stuff. I don't know. I think a gun on the head is a better way to change people. I just hope that my travel stories entertain you

Right now I am in the process of writing a book based on this trip and figuring out the difference between a writer's block and procrastination.

You can find more information on my Facebook page and Instagram account