Potholes, Policeman and Tonk Speedbumps

As was to be expected, no insurance was delivered by 7pm on our last night in Agra. in true Indian political fashion, those who i had paid for the privilege of same day delivery dropped pens and had an impromptu festival. It wasn't until 11:45 the next morning after we had viewed the spectacular Taj Mahal upclose that we were finally insured. Steph and I then set off on an unplanned backstreet tour of Agra. When we finally managed to leave the city, we set sail for Jaipur. The drive was long but reasonably uneventful, and we arrived at sunset at the spectacular entrance to the enchanting Pink City of Jaipur. Then the fun began...

Having previously selected a hotel, it was then left to us to try and locate it in this sprawling metropolis of a city. Easier said then done at night. In the end we picked up a helpful but clueless Indian, who claimed to know where the hotel was. When it turned out he didn't and had us driving the wrong way down a one way street into busy oncoming traffic my simmering road rage finally hit boiling point. I should really learn to control my temper, but in this case it approved effective, as when we finally arrived he was so terrified he forgot to ask for a tip and left without a word. Having been planning rooms with a view to how comfortable they would be to be sick in, I knew I'd chosen well. After my heartless mockery of Steph's suffering Karma bit back and I was suffering at the hands of a horrid microbe wishing I was dead. After a slow 24 hours we set off to the transit town of Kota. It was here that we first experienced the 'National Highway 12'. Only in India would a piece of land resembling the M42 after a successful bombing raid pass as a National Highway. The journey, slowed massively by this uniquely frustrating challenge, was not dissimilar to the earthquake we experienced in Pokhara.This however, was not the only challenge. When you were able to get any speed on a reasonable surface, the Indian road authorities like to treat you with a combination of lethal speed humps. These are not the speedhumps you find in the UK, rather their larger, meaner, steroid-using, cousin, and they are not forgiving. All was not lost, we passed through one of India's most wonderfully named dwellings, Tonk and we made it in one piece to the blissfully simple town of Kota.

We left Kota and much to our dismay we found ourselves once again riding the hellish nightmare of the NH 12. This time the Tuk Tuk didn't fair so well. After about 3 hours the fuel gauge stopped working and after a panicked stop for fuel we found the battery had disconnected. This may not sound like a big deal, but to two mechanical retards such as Steph and myself, this was our worst nightmare come true. By some divine power and with the use of much foul language and many cable ties, we combined our two brain cells and made it work again. Once we left Rajasthan on a cheeky shortcut we found on a map the roads were beautifully maintained and the scenery stunning. It was here that we were stopped by the police for the first time. This went surprisingly smoothly, the policeman's english was exemplary, and apart from our Rickshaw being documented as a different colour we were ushered on with a smile and a wave. 360 KM later we arrived in the metropolitan jungle of Indore, our tin steed still in good health.     

Lucknow to Agra

Despite our hotel in Lucknow being more than adequate I still found myself tucking my money belt deeper into my groin whilst eying people with Gestapo like suspicion. Unnecessary really when the closest we have come to being robbed is by the cycle rickshaw drivers who do so in plain daylight. after another confusing exit and a quick stop to ask directions from the only white person we say (an albino Indian man incedently, so useless) we set off on the NH2 road to Agra.

It is easy to see why the Taj Mahal is the number one sight to see in India, as Steph and I limped the last remaining kilometers of the 370ish KM drive from Lucknow, the towers and dome of the Taj became visible. the heat of Agra was nothing like what we had experienced anywhere else in India. It was ferocious, made worse by the fact that it was the suns highest point of the day. It is always a challenge trying to find your hotel in the chaotic streets of an Indian city, so we thought we could make things easier by using google maps.. our plan failed and once again we were touring the side streets of an Indian city swearing and wondering how anyone could live like this. Eventually we got to the Taj Mahal and were told that we could drive no further, we would have to park and walk to our hotel, and that the Tuk couldnt be left over night. This was a nightmare as there was literally no where to park within 5 kilometers. The result was we had to abandon our hotel booking after some strong words from the police, and we settled for one further away but still with a good view of the Taj. there really is no way to describe the taste of a cold beer watching the sun set and the bats fly over the Taj Mahal, easily one of the greatest experiences of my life.

After deciding that the Taj was best seen in the morning before the hordes arrived Steph and I decided a day of rest was needed, during which we could finally sort out some sort of insurance for the rickshaw. This proved to be very entertaining, with the help of my new over enthusiastic freind Mathew and his accomplice, we negotiated the streets of Agra to the Transport Naga (transport district). Steph, who had Delhi belly remained at the hotel suffering hard whilst i fought the bureaucracy of three overwheight men sat on chairs by the side of the road with a stack of paper. Needless to say some extra money was needed to ensure that our insurance was done today. After a quick dash across 4 lanes of fast moving motorway traffic and a trip to the ATM I was 4000Rs lighter and awaiting my finished documents which are going to be delivered tonight. We will have to wait and see.

Tansen to India

Once we had paid the full amount, and explored Pokhara a little more the time had come to start the adventure for real. At 6am Steph and I set off up the steep unforgiving terrain of the mountains of Nepal carving our own tread pattern in the subcontinents already swollen carbon footprint. The views from the mountain road joining Pokhara and the little town of Tansen are breathtaking, if it wasnt for the very loud chugging of the diesel engine, all I would have heard is steph's camera click. We encountered our first real problem when we were approaching Tansen. The Tuk had been making odd noises along the journey, something we attributed to the undulating terrain. When faced by the brutal climb into Tansen the Tuk decided that gears were no longer and option and gave up on us. It took a combined effort of the village passers by and Steph and I and 30 minutes worth of pushing up a 1:3 incline to get the rickshaw on to some flat(ish) ground. A further two hours and much head shaking and Nepalese cursing ensued. We stood by hopelessly as the towns mystri (mechanics) set to work. Finally there was a flurry of movement from the tiny man now inside our engine, and he told us to start her up and test his work.. result, the remaining hilly climb to our hotel was made easy by the Tuk and we arrived in time for a cold shower, some tea and a poor nights sleep.

The next morning we woke to the sound of horns (a now regular occurrence) and possibly the greatest view either of us have ever seen. A hasty breakfast and then we hit the road heading for the boarder town of Sonauli. After a brief stop at a Hindu temple for a blessing for our journey and some red dots smeared on our sweating brows we could see the boarder. One would think that in Nepal and India crossing the boarder would at least have some formality to it, but we literally drove straight through at about 50KM P/H and we greeted by the smell of shit and curry on the other side. Words cannot describe the change in scenery literally yards from the crossing point, squalid is an understatement. Not deterred we carried on in the searing heat through forests, paddies and through crowded bizaars to finally reach the Indian City of Gorakpur. Once there we battled through the traffic, horns blazing to find a suitable looking hotel that promised a room for Rs1000 (approx 12 quid) with aircon and a double bed... It was full, so too were every other reasonable looking hotel in the whole of the city. After 2 hours in the now stifling midday heat and with much swearing at confused desk clerks we settled for Hotel Sunrise, opposite the railway station and right next to where everyone tests their horns.. at least it has aircon. Next stop Lucknow.. 

Witchcraft related injuries..

Pokhara is by far my favourite part of Nepal. An airport second to none, no luggage carousel, no air con, no shops, just a man with a large rifle. I have never had an airport experience like it, England could learn a thing or two from Nepalese logistics, they are flawlessly simple. I was pleased to find out my ticket had contributed towards a charity that helps children who are victims of domestic and witchcraft related violence etc. It was the inclusion of the etc that made me laugh, witchcraft related violence had to be mentioned and no covered simply by the etc.

Pokhara is much nicer than Kathmandu, it's cleaner, lusher and warmer and the people don't eye you with the ferocity of a rapist. We met up with Rick of Hearts and Tears fame to touch base and talk rickshaw. Needless to say we got very drunk, i moreso than usual and out the otherside of my expensive drinking degree and out of practice I was punished by the cruel hand of Ghurka beer and am now writing this in-between alcohol shakes.

After a hair raising test drive today, Steph and I are now the proud owners of a diesel powered Piaggio Rickshaw. The beast is a bugger to drive and noisy and smelly, but you can't stop smiling in it, particularly when your presence attracts an audience everywhere you go. With the final payment going down tomorrow Steph's and my adventure starts for real.

Kathmandu or Kathmadon't

After approximately 14 hours of travel, Steph and I made it to Kathmandu. We were welcomed by an hour and a half wait to get a visa, which was maddening  as all we wanted to do by this point was sleep. We arrived at the hotel by car, and our taxi driver actually admitted to enjoying cannabis a little too much, which was the perfect compliment to his driving. We got the opportunity to explore the city by night, a terrifying but rewarding experience as it really is quite special. It seems to be the perfect place for trekkers and people who enjoy recreational drugs, as we were offered a number of different narcotics within 20 minutes of setting off from the hotel. After almost 12 hours of well deserved sleep, we are heading off to visit a monkey temple and then unfortunately flying up to Pokhara this afternoon to get our first glimpse of the Tuk Tuk.. We are Kathmandon't's but to every one else I would recommend Kathmandu!

The Plan.

For those who are used to listening to my constant babble of usually incoherent nonsense, this is my first journey into the world of online blogging. A new medium for me to keep you up to date, and one hopefully bolstered by my recent degree courtesy of wikipedia.

Not content with conventional means of travelling and in search of adventure, I thought I would try something new and exciting. Far beyond the normal realms of what may be considered exciting, dragging my long suffering girlfriend on an epic drive from Pokhara in central Nepal ,to Kanyakumari on India's most Southern tip, seemed like a good way to scratch my traveling itch. To add to my enjoyment, and to Stephs growing number of concerns, this will be undertaken in monsoon season and in an Auto-Rickshaw.

The planning of this trip started about 7 weeks ago, when I started wearing Steph down and convincing her this was a 'good idea'. Once this had been achieved we got the ball rolling by buying a map of India. After much discussion and excited talk about all the wonders the subcontinent held in store it was decided that researching the idea of this mode of transport would be a wise place to start. It was through this half minded browsing that we came across a rickshaw for sale in Pokhara, and after discovering it had been driven their by three equally as adventurous characters, we set about contacting the seller.

Rickshaw sorted, aside from amassing our own bodyweight in kit, all that remained was to plan the journey. I would love to say we thought about this a lot, but I am a firm believer in the 'we'll just see when we get there' school of thought. The route reflects both the tourist, and towards the end, the beach lover in both Steph and I, with the Taj Mahal and the beaches of Goa on the itinerary.

Less than a week remains until we fly. Provided is a rough route map, with an estimated distance of 2,250 miles, for you to puzzle over whilst Steph gets on with the important business of graduating from university and stopping me from adding further danger to the trip.