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

How a slight documentation problem almost denied me an entry into Nepal

On a motorcycle there is something really exciting about the prospect of entering another country. I remember the time on this trip when I was near the Wagah border, Attari, Amritsar and I saw a board near the border which said Lahore - 24 Kms. Immediately I had this thought that I'll race across to the border gate and make the bike jump across the border gates and land on the Pakistani side. Then I'll just speed across to Lahore city with the Pakistani rangers and the Pakistani police following me in their jeeps and vehicles, shooting at me with guns and missing all the time and just about the time they almost catch me I would have crossed back to the Indian side displaying the same heroic stunts on my bike. Also somewhere in between all this there would be a hot woman in a bikini somewhere coming out of the water. But then I gave up on the thought as I felt it won't exactly play out the way I have described. I mean its too naive to believe that there would be a hot woman in a bikini coming out of the water in that border to Lahore stretch and back.

So yes I had to wait another 40 odd days before I could finally get my motorcycle to a different country. The country being Nepal. Now India - Nepal relations being what they are, it makes Nepal the easiest of countries for an Indian to get in. But trust me to complicate the easiest of things. If rules were followed to the letter I would not have been allowed entry in Nepal with my motorcycle but I am extremely grateful to the Nepalese custom authorities who followed it in spirit and allowed me to enter. Now during the trip I had written a blog on Nepal (http://thecluelessrider.blogspot.in/2013/07/nepal-country-you-ought-to-visit.html) and there I had mentioned about the slight documentation problem with my motorcycle. I had also mentioned that I might write about the documentation problem once I complete the trip. So now since the trip is complete and the fact that I want to look like a person who keeps his promises, I shall get into more detail about that slight documentation problem.

Now my motorcycle is registered in my Dad's name and I had lost the original RC book of the motorcycle a few years back. I have a photocopy of the RC book and I have never really made an effort to get a duplicate copy of the RC book from the RTO. In my defense the motorcycle is registered at the Chennai RTO as my Dad was there at the time of buying the bike in 2006. Now my Dad is settled in Kerala and since its registered in his name it is him who will need to go to Chennai, register an FIR and get the duplicate copy of the RC book. To make matters worse the motorcycle also needs to be present in Chennai at that time. When I was starting the trip I thought I'll ask my Dad to just take the bike, go to Chennai and somehow get me an original RC book for the motorcycle. But then at the start of my trip he did agree to the idea that I undergo this 7 month trip but he wasn't really all gaga about it. So somewhere I had this feeling that maybe if I suggest something of this sort to him he would just tell me to forget about the trip. I wasn't really sure but then I did not want to take any chances. As that old saying in Rome goes "If you are getting laid in the night never ruin your chances by asking her if she could cook dinner too"

So like most problems that young people face, even this one can be blamed on one's father and the systems prevalent in the country.

So anyway I was prepared of the possibility that I may not be able to enter Nepal and should that be the case I'll just call it sour grapes and continue the trip inside India. But as it turned out a good friend planned his vacation accordingly so that we meet in Katmandu for three days and more importantly since he was footing the bill for a very comfortable hotel room, I was very determined to enter Nepal at any cost. Don't judge me on this - when you are traveling budget every comfortable bed free of cost is something to kill for. So I started from Lucknow on a Tuesday morning and kept on riding till the Nepal border at Sanauli near Gorakhpur stopping only for food and nothing else. My only aim was to enter Nepal by doing whatever it takes and sleep the night on the Nepalese side of the border so that I ride tension free to Katmandu the next day.

Now entering Nepal by road is a very simple process for an Indian. If you are using public transport you just enter. There's no need of a passport or anything. I guess its handy to carry one id proof in case they check but its not at all a cumbersome task. Now in case you are entering by your own vehicle you just need to get photocopies of your vehicle's papers and pay a specified amount depending on the number of days you plan to be in the country. It comes out to 70 Indian Rupees per day for a two wheeler. The only problem is they check the original copies before they give you a challan to enter the country. Now with whatever limited experience that I have I can tell you whenever you are in a government office for any documentation purposes in a motorcycle trip make sure you enter the office wearing the riding gear. It tends to impress and sometimes intimidate the other person. The next thing you need to do is to smile a lot and look very lost and confused and ask stupid doubts regarding the filling of forms. The smile is very important. There is something about a cheerful, stupid, lost man in riding gear that makes people want to help you out.

So the guy in charge in that Nepalese customs office asks me for the original RC book of the bike. I tell him that I forgot it at home in Bangalore. I make a sad face and cook up a story as to how I have been saving money for the past four years to live this dream of mine and if there is any way I could enter Nepal I would be just grateful to him. I might not have been entirely truthful with him but the being grateful part was something I sincerely meant. I did have the originals for every other document and this one thing could probably be ignored. He took pity on me and told me that if I could just go to the Indian custom officials office just 200m away on the Indian side of the border and get that photocopy of the RC book attested by them telling them of my predicament he'll take care of it.

So I went to the Indian custom officials and employed the same strategy of smiles, confused looks and a sob story of saving money for four years for living this dream of a trip. But I was disgusted by the way the Indian officials behaved. I do not blame them for refusing to help me out. They had every right not to help me out. The thing that disgusted me was their highhandedness and the mocking tone they indulged in. There is nothing brave in being rude to a guy who is alone and not from those parts. I lost patience when he said two months of a ride is enough and now you can go back home. I just told him not to tell me what I what I should or should not be doing. Its none of his business and I don't need his help. I'll ask the Nepalese guys to help me out and started walking towards the Nepalese side of the border. Then I cursed him with the choicest of abuse words. Well of course I am not stupid enough to do it in front of his face. I abused him only when I was confident that I was out of his line of sight and out of earshot.

So I reach the Nepalese customs office. Its already dark and some 7:30 pm. I was angry, disgusted and to be a honest there was disappointment written all over my face. The Nepalese guy in charge there asked me what happened. I just told him that the Indian custom officials refused to entertain me. He just looked at me and patted my back and gave me a 'Don't you worry child' look and just passed my papers and gave me the challan. I can't really express the sense of gratitude I felt at that moment. I just knew at that very moment that my time in Nepal is going to be a great one.

I do know I was at fault and rules are meant to be followed in letter but there are exceptions when you need to follow it in spirit. I never greased palms to get this thing done. Somewhere in the trip I had started believing in the goodness of people and small things like these help me strengthen my beliefs. I am really grateful that I could visit Nepal. When you are travelling alone there comes a certain point where you feel totally free. You tend to let go of a lot of things that were bogging you down. Nepal ended up to be that place. Maybe there is something about Nepal or maybe I was just there at the right point in my trip, Nepal is a place I will never forget.

Oh by the way just to show my gratitude I only consumed alcohol brands which were authentic Nepalese brands. Gorkha beer, Everest beer and Khukri rum and trust me Gorkha beer is one of the best beers that I have had anywhere in the world.

Also some people have suggested its not really a slight documentation problem but then I have rode across every state in India, parts of Nepal, parts of Bhutan and one town in Burma too without an original RC book. So I think its just a slight documentation problem that you can ignore :)

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

How To Classify People You Meet On The Road

Traveling alone in a motorcycle tends to get you a fair amount of attention wherever you are passing by. Basically it gets you a lot of opportunities to have brief interactions with a few people (around 12 - 15) in hotels you stop for food or lodging, wayside tea stalls or just some random place in the middle of nowhere where you stop to rest for a while. The interactions can leave you in a state of mixed emotions but generally it keeps you humoured on your way. Classifying a motorcycle rider based on their behaviour and motives is something a lot of you may have come across but there is very little research on classifying the locals based on their behaviour that a motorcycle rider meets briefly on the road. So I present a humble attempt on my part to understand and explain these people based on two factors - Curiosity and Shyness.

Now to understand a person a brief interaction helps. Trust me just keeping on stalking their facebook profiles has its limitations. So let me first take these two factors - Curiosity & Shyness and explain through the help of a flowchart as to how based on the amount of curiosity or shyness you can make them interact with you by using these helpful activities 'A', 'B' & 'C' as shown in the flowchart.

Now when you stop somewhere and you see a person, instinctively you first have to identify whether that person is

1) Low on curiosity - if yes do activity 'A'
2) Either High on curiosity or Low on shyness - if yes do activity 'B'
3) High on shyness - if yes do activity 'C'

For all the activities please do ensure you are in the line of sight of the person you are trying to interact with

Activity A

• Take out the road map and keeping a confused look in your face draw out directions in the air with your fingers
• Start your engine and pretend to look in the bike as if there is something wrong with it. Ensure that you keep on revving it up to make a lot of noise 
• Pretend that you are talking to your Mom on the phone and say things like 'Todays ride is so exciting. 3 months back when I started from home I had no idea that even after 15000 Kms on the road I would still be all excited'. 
• I guess you get the hint of this activity. The whole idea as you would have guessed is to be subtle enough to increase curiosity in the people. 

Activity B

• Take your helmet off and shake your head to feel the hair ruffling. Wash your face and wet your hair with water and run your fingers through your hair.
• Just act cool. They will come and talk to you
• For best results sport long hair before you start the ride

Activity C

• If possible block all paths of entry and exit and then smile at them
• Ask for directions even if you know them
• Once they are done telling the directions smile and then prolong the conversation by asking the directions for the same place again.
• Repeat the above till you get bored or till he takes out a gun or any other sharp object

So now that you have an idea of how to interact with people let me go ahead and classify the people based on the two factors - Curiosity and Shyness this time taken together. The below graph where Curiosity is plotted on the y - axis and Shyness is plotted on the x - axis gives us four different scenarios which help us to formulate archetypes of people we meet on the road.

The various archetypes are

1) INDIFFERENT (Curiosity - Low, Shyness - Low)

• They are low on shyness but are low on curiosity too. So they generally don't give a damn about you
• Not really good for your self esteem.
• You can't act all cool in front of them

2) INTIMIDATED (Curiosity - Low, Shyness - High)

• They are almost like the Indifferent people. The only thing is because they are highly shy you can intimidate them a bit
• Slightly better for your self esteem

3) INTRUSIVE (Curiosity - High, Shyness - Low)

• These are highly curious people with low shyness. 
• Questions like when do you plan to get married, how much do you earn and a lot of personal questions can also be expected
• A little too friendly for comfort
• But on the bright side, good for your self esteem

4) PLEASANT (Curiosity - High, Shyness - High)

• These are the people who just make your day
• Most people you meet would be in this category
• A high level of curiosity combined with a high level of shyness just brings out the sweetest of smiles from people. A sentence is always spoken with a shy smile on the face.
• If this happens to be a very pretty woman, trust me you will never be able to forget that smile. 

So next time if you happen to travel and you meet people try to put them in one of these boxes. After all what fun is life and meeting people if we can't stereotype them.

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

Truck Drivers - The guardians on the road

A motorcycle accident is a very unforgettable experience. The way that people just fly, somersault in the air and roll on the ground is just incredible to watch. Once you are back on your feet, there are a few seconds where your mind is just blank. You are too stunned to think anything and then when you start figuring out things the rush of adrenaline ensures you don't feel any pain for sometime. Now I am not a sadist or anything. I don't want to be involved in an accident. All I am saying is that in case I am involved in a motorcycle accident, I would like the whole thing to be filmed so that I can watch it again. Its somewhat funny too.Well if you permanently lose a limb or someone dies in the process, funny might not be a word you like to associate it with but thankfully the few accidents that I have had in my life haven't been that bad that I can't find humour  in them. The only sour experience I have carried is that accident I had some 3.5 years back which has left a prominent 10 cm scar on my left hand. It still hasn't got me laid as I had hoped it would. Hopefully it would one day.

So anyway I had this accident in Sarchu and long story short I have loaded my motorcycle and luggage in the back of the truck and Rs 2000 is the amount that has been agreed upon to truck the bike till Manali which is some 250 Kms away. Read more about it here (http://thecluelessrider.blogspot.in/2014/01/leh-to-mandi-sometimes-only-goodwill.html)

So I was sitting in the front of the truck and just getting to terms with the fact that I might not be able to meet that pretty woman again whom I had met briefly yesterday ( read about it here http://thecluelessrider.blogspot.in/2014/01/leh-to-mandi-sometimes-only-goodwill.html) and with whom I had this instinctive feeling that there was some connection. But I should know better than to trust my instincts because if my instincts were to be believed I would have had gone out with every pretty face that I have come across in my life and I would have been driving a Rolls Royce by now. But as John Lenon puts it much more poetically "You may say I am a dreamer, but I am not the only one"

Suddenly my thoughts are interrupted by something Raju (the truck driver) said. Now I don't remember what he said but I guess it was addressed to me as he was looking in my direction and there was nobody else in that truck. That is when I had a more careful look of the interiors of the truck. It's basically just a box designed accidentally or purposely to torture people. In a kinder world people are just clobbered to death. No wonder its quite difficult to find a truck driver in a good mood.

Now since I wasn't listening to what he was asking and I did not want to upset him I decided to deal with the situation tactfully. I looked at him, cringed in pain and deftly changed the topic. After that over the next few hours we talked about everything under the sun - from women, sports, movies, religion, politics and even about the greater purposes in life. Truck drivers I realized are very lonely people who are away from their families and loved ones most of the times and just to rub it in further they are paid a pittance. Its a hard job and while I have almost always experienced kindness and goodness throughout the country from people belonging to every walk of life, I guess a truck driver isn't accorded the same courtesy. Being at the wrong end of the social structure every Tom, Dick and Harry - be it the policeman out to earn an extra buck, the excise department on the state borders or the village drunk out to feel good about himself, the truck driver is an easy target to extort from and ridicule.

Well since I don't want to make it a sob story I'll subtly change the topic. So somewhere in the conversation he suggested that instead of Manali I get my bike fixed in Mandi - another 100 Kms from Manali. He said Mandi would turn out to be cheaper for me as it was not a tourist town like Manali. I was a little reluctant as I still hoped that I would meet that woman in Manali but then I guess the truck driver was more logical. So with a heavy heart I agreed. I don't know if the heartbreak was very evident or its just that he was a very generous man when we stopped for dinner at Manali, he paid for my meal and refused any payment for it.

After dinner we were heading towards Mandi at around 10 when he did the sweetest thing. Somewhere 8 Kms after Manali on the roadside there is a natural hot water spring. Since I was in pain because of the accident he stopped the truck and suggested that I spend some time in that hot water pool so that I would feel a little better. So me, Raju and one more truck driver who was following us in another truck went to bathe in that hot water pool in the dead of the night. I kid you not if there was a woman or better two women with me at that time it would just have been way too romantic but then since we were just three men in our undergarments let me just leave it here. But all said and done it did feel heavenly sitting in a hot water pool when you are in pain. The pain just resides. Now since we had spent more than an hour in the pool and everyone was feeling sleepy we decided to sleep in the truck and head to Mandi early the next morning. The only problem was I and Raju were sharing the front seat of the truck to sleep in and also sharing a blanket as it was cold. It sounded very gay but then when you have just spent an hour in a pool in pitch darkness with two other men in your undergarments I guess I can take this too.

The next morning we headed to Mandi and reached the bike garage by 8am. The garage only opened at 9 but Raju waited with me till the garage opened and helped me unload the luggage and the motorcycle and when I paid him the 2000 bucks we agreed upon he gave me back 400 saying that I would undergo a lot of expenses on my bike repairing. I was overwhelmed and at a loss of words. I was very sure even if nothing else this is one story I'll definitely write about when I complete the trip.

Sarchu to Mandi through the Rohtang pass is one of worst stretch of roads with the most breathtaking of views. I am just glad I had some company on this stretch. Ever since I have always been nice to truck drivers whenever I meet them on the way in Dhaba's and other places. If you are ever on a motorcycle trip be nice to truck drivers. They are generally better with directions and more accurate with distances. Even logistically they are the ones who are better equipped to help you out and they have a lot of interesting stories to tell if you ever get an opportunity to spend more time with them. They really are your guardians on the road. I just hope I impressed them enough to ensure that the next time they see any motorcycle riders in distress they will gladly help them out.

Oh btw three months later there was another set of truck drivers in Manipur who helped me out. That one is a more interesting story. It also involved trucking the bike, sleeping under a truck and come to think of it I was again bathing with 7 or 8 men in undergarments - this time under a waterfall. Why are there never any women.. Sigh... But that story a lot later after I finish with the stories in between..

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