Traffic..

Traffic I remember sitting in the minibus after arriving in Dehli staring out the window in utter disbeleif at the complete cluster-fuck of chaotic traffic, wondering - how on earth we would ever survive in these road conditions! Two weeks later - I had never been so calm about driving around in rush hour traffic, tooting my horn merrily as I overtake a tractor and motorbike, narrowly squeezing past the oncoming bus or lorry with inches to spare. I have grown to love the simplicity that lies within the chaos of Indian roads; there are few rules, there is a hierarchy to adhere to so that you don’t die, but beyond that you are free to do what you like. There are often people driving on the hard shoulder towards you - from a cyclist to a truck, people will overtake you only to stop in front of you a few metres later. Traffic lights are an utter free-4-all, overtaking does not have to happen one at a time, sometimes four vehicles will simultaneously overtake each other. And most surprisingly of all - no-one is getting angry; everyone just gets on with it. The term ‘cutting someone up’ doesn’t exist in Indian culture, you have simply acted first. There is no need to check your blind spots, you simply honk and manoeuvre and hope the person behind reacts accordingly.

At the top of this hierarchy lie COWS. Cows, standing in the middle of a state highway, basically not giving a fuck. I found it was best to aim for their butts as I rarely saw cows moving backwards. Next and for completely different reasons comes buses…. maniacal , insane, high-speed buses! Buses would overtake a car that was overtaking a rickshaw, going uphill on a blind corner without thinking twice; scary when you are in a tin can on wheels.

When it comes to cars, rickshaws and bikes - there becomes somewhat of a rock, paper scissors affair. Cars beat rickshaws and bikes in size, so gain right of way. However motorbikes beat cars and rickshaws on maneuverability, so can squeeze into all the gaps and so gain advantage in slow, busy traffic and can go around most speed bumps. And much to my delight rickshaws lie in a nice middle-ground of having a bit of both and if you are ballsy enough you can usually stop a car from claiming its right of way…!

Beyond these are your stray dogs, goats, people, cyclists and general debris. Road users don’t care much for these.

Gave up on blogging - time to summarise!!

So - I’m back. I’m in one piece and I have too much to ever tell any one person about my adventure.

Four days in, I was still attempting to find the time to complete a blog from the first day. Too much to explain too little time, and with Wi-Fi accessibility coming but once every few evenings I eventually gave up trying. Instead I plan to create a summary blog, encapsulating the whole experience via different topics without including every which detail.

These topics will include, traffic, breakdowns, people, culture and other such topics. Enjoy

BREAKDOWNS!

BREAKDOWNS

It was clear from the outset that our Rickshaw, aptly named "Tiny Rick" - was considerably less powerful than our counterparts little machine named "Gerty". However, it was not Tiny Rick that struck the first problem. About 200km of the 260km journey to Jodhpur, Gerty gave up completely. Now beyond the three obvious problems: Air and Compression; Fuel; and Ignition - we were going to be at a loss to fix any deeper problems than these. So when Gertys clutch went on the first day, it was safe to say we were going to need som assistance. However since it was Sunday at about 17.30pm, we would need to make our way to Jodhpur regardless to get it fixed. This meant it was down to Tiny Rick and his crew to tow Gerty the remainder of the way to Jodhpur. NOT easy. More on Night time driving later.

After her first fix, Gerty caused very little trouble for the rest of the trip. YAWN! Boring. Tiny Rick however... lets just say he had "some" issues.

On our trip between Jhabua and Dhule, our ricks clocked up quite a few offroad miles as well as about 100km of highways. This, you are thinking must have been kind to our little rickshaws compared to offroading. This would be the case - were it not for the infinite amount of speed bumps varying from the single bumps to the terrifying six no. bumps. Needless to say a few Km from our intended place of rest - Tiny Rick's entire engine mount sheared! We nursed him to accommodation in the dark (again) held together by wire and cable ties. The engine mount was replaced in the morning then we were back on our way.

Following his second visit to the mechanic after a catastrophic engine failure (and being pushed up a hill by the mechanics foot whilst driving the other rickshaw) Tiny Rick came out with a new exhaust silencer, new dampers, a complete top up of gearbox oil, lots of grease and his accelerator cable re-jigged.

By the time we made it to Ahmednagar we knew Tiny Rick couldn't survive much longer without a trip to the mechanics and that Goa was still some 750km away. So we took the decision to stick the tuks on the back of some trucks and skip a potentially quite dull part of the journey. Upon arrival in Goa we found ourselves our third and final mechanics of the trip. To where we would return 3 times! At first the gearbox seal was resealed following quite a blatent leak etc etc long story short it turns out that most of Tiny Rick's problems were stemming from a tiny bit of fluff in one of the carburetor's jets. On the third revisit to this mechanics after a failed early start we final had the problem solved.

Final Furlong

As we woke on the final morning of our adventure the sun was rising over the Arabian sea and we had around 40km to go to the finish line. We stayed the night in a beautiful beach-side villa with sea access and some of the nicest fresh seafood we had seen through the journey, although mixed with authentic Kerala heat it was a little spicy for some! As we drove out from the compound we were still sporting the hammer and sickle flag that we had purloined from a lamp-post on the way through a village, it is fair to say we weren’t entirely sure what it meant but we got some very welcoming cheers and claps from passers by. Only once we got to the finish did we learn more about the ruling political party and some of their less orthodox methods; still it all adds to the legend that was our rickshaw run.


They say the most likely time you will be involved in an accident is within 10km of your house, in our case it was within 10km of the finishing line. Me being well and truly indoctrinated into the Indian driving mentality by this time went for a typically risky overtaking manoeuvre and nearly ended up as the meat in a bus car sandwich, whether I was emboldened by the high tempo music that was pushing us towards the finish line or just excited for the last few km’s I am not sure, but sufficed it to say I got cheeky and India slapped my ass and told me to behave. The final day would also include a brief ferry journey from the island of Vypin to Fort Kochi, as we arrived at the ferry terminal it was clear we would be in for a bit of a wait as a throng of moped drivers and passengers swarmed the quayside waiting for the next boat to dock. As it happens we waited only an hour and decided that we would head to the finish line and see if there was anyone already there, if not we would stop and get some photos. Driving into the parade ground it was all relatively quiet and there were a few shocked faces, it was 12pm on the 13th April and no other teams were even close to the finish line, surprisingly and totally by accident we had finished first!! Some photos and exchanges of stories with the organisers filled the next hour or so before we decamped and headed to our accommodation.



Deciding that we had enough of hotels and cheap motels we had jumped on Air BNB and organised a colonial house in the old Dutch quarter of Kochi, what looked good on the website turned out to be outstanding in real life and we immediately felt at home. One vital warning had been heard loud and clear, which was that good Friday in Kerala is also a “dry” good Friday so if we wanted any drinks for the weekend it’d be wise to get out and buy some from the local booze merchants; we located it on a map and set off to stock up. Booze bought we took the time to chill out by the pool and relax in what was a very well deserved lull in proceedings, an early night followed and we all slept until mid-morning happy in the knowledge that we were no longer in danger from the red busses.


The next day was spent exploring the beautiful fort Kochi area and some more high level relaxation pool-side, knowing the following day would include the closing party we didn’t want to burn out too soon. We were all watching avidly as news of progress from our fellow runners was coming through on the whatsapp channel and we were seeing the teams finishing one by one, while we agreed that it was an epic 12 days in the saddle both us and the spicy boys were very glad not to be rushing towards the finish line on the last day of the event. Night fell on the evening of the 15th April and we were readying ourselves for the closing party, Kevin had popped out to purchase our traditional Lungi (a tied sarong that is shortened to just above knee length) which is the clothing of choice for all well appointed men. Sporting matching tuking the void tshirts and Lungi’s well and truly secured we headed to meet the other teams for the epic closing party. Arriving from the ferry to Bolgatty palace was an experience, the trees were lit and a traditional drum band were beating out a welcome to the weary runners. Lots of other acts were to follow but the beat of the drum and the ting ting of the symbols was hypnotic and enchanting and brought back memories of the preceding two weeks. Much beer was drunk and dancing, singing, and exchanging of war stories went on into the early hours of the morning. It was a fitting end to what was an incredible journey.



The final post in this blog will hopefully be a little more profound as myself and Kevin try to articulate what the last two weeks has been like and what we have seen throughout, we will try to do it justice.

Love JP & Kev

The end!

After a long two weeks we made it to Cochin yesterday just in time to return the keys and join the celebrations! It's been a crazy trip India lets do it again some time...  ![Uploading file...]()

I'll miss you like a boil

Well dear readers, this is it. I'm writing to you from my final hotel stay in India. I suppose I owe you all an explanation of my two previous days.

On the 14th we started our drive into Kochi. I'll admit I got a little teary eyed driving towards our tuk's final resting place. It felt like I was driving to an amputation appointment. Our little team started a joke twords the middle of our trip about finish line fantasies. We'd said that there would be Russian women in bikinis and drinks on beautiful beaches pretty much any time we needed a goofy pick-me-up. I think along the way we drank our own kool-aid and started believing in that. We were sorely mistaken obviously. Good luck trying to get a drink on a beach near kochi. I'm sure it can be done but we couldn't manage it. Our spirits were low to say the least, our young man fantasy was crushed and our adventure was coming to a close. We loaded the tuk onto a ferry to Kochi and found that this place is pretty touristy. It kind of reminded me of Newport Rhode island. An easily walkable town, but we had wheels. Out of all the swanky places we could've chosen, we went with our classic economy option and Jamie had to sleep on a floor mat again.

The next day things got better. We crossed the finish line just as a couple of our very first Adventurist friends pulled up behind us. Team double Dutch. Such good folks. Normally when you finish the race they take your tuk away but we had our cameraman lie and say we had more filming to do. Double Dutch jumped in our ride and we cruised the drag. We got beers at an official beer store and a wave of Adventurists came pouring in. Smiles and stories were exchanged. Lots of good belly laughs from everyone. Double Dutch and koddiwomple eventually went for some lunch at an Italian place that served us some illegal mojitos. We had two full meals back to back with them and talked about all manner of things. After our extravagant meal, double Dutch invited me to swim in their fancy rooftop pool and I was more than happy to oblige. After a nice swim it was time to get on the party ferry to the island where the finish shindig was taking place. As we got off the boat they had drummers and horn players play us into the party. I immediately switched into social butterfly mode. I was all over that party. As the night wore on I got very drunk and started kissing folks on the head but they didn't seem to mind. My kind of folks. Dear readers, it's hard to write about how good a party is because you just have to be there to experience it but I will say this, that was the best party I've ever been to. It'll be tough to top it.

This morning we had some serious king Fisher headaches and were practically out of commission. I had what I can only assume my last dosa (a delicious Indian dish) for a very long time. After laying around for a bit, I got a classic hangover remedy: a tattoo. It's a tuk tuk on my ankle. I felt like I needed one seeing as how I couldn't bring the real thing home. The one on my ankle doesn't need permits or a smog check.

Jamie said "you end up missing India like a boil, you poke at it and feel something but when it's gone you miss it." Full of wisdom that guy. I suppose I agree in a sense. I was a glutton for punishment on this trip, with moments of pure elation. I think what I'm taking away from this is there's a lot of different ways to live your life and this is definitely one way of doing it.

The sweet finish line in Sweet Ride!!

We crossed the finish line yesterday!! Amazing adventure across India!! We have now travelled a 10th of the earth's circumference -- wow!!

Day 13. Soft Serve Ice Cream Under the Golden Arches

Day 13 Guruvayur to Kochi

It had rained overnight. Heavily. Up at 6am ready for our early escape. I went to check the gates. A huge padlock and chain could be seen on the gates but on closer inspection, I realised it hadn't been done up to lock us in.

After draining a large pool of water from the vinyl tuk tuk roof, I started it up. Normally we would warm it up for a good 10 minutes or so. Not on this occasion. The owner had arrived early. I drove outside of the gates. Chris and William dashed out with their bags which we threw in. We took off before the owner had realised he had been outwitted. Or maybe he was happy with the 1500rs after and just didn't want to confront Chris again?

Either way, we were off on our last day of rickshaw running. With the early start, we felt sure we would be in Kochi in just 3 hours or so.

Dumb thought again.

Heavy traffic. We tried all sorts of detours. None worked. We just had to be patient and go with the flow.

As we approached Kochi, we thought it would be fun to catch one of the small ferry boats across one of the backwater canals. After working our way through a maze of twisting lanes, we found the first ferry terminal. The locals all indicated this was the place to catch the ferry. Just not today. It is Vishnu New Year and Good Friday. No ferries today!

Instead we thought we'd play silly buggers. At least William did. Time to test out the roof rack. I didn't want to get involved and being a true journalist realised my task was to record the news. Not be a part of it.

So the next thing I knew, I had footage of silly William atop of the tuk tuk with Chris trying not to roll the top heavy vehicle around the corners. At least if he did roll it, William would have ended up in the backwaters instead of the road.

With enough footage to prove to their mother how stupid they both are, we pushed on to our digs for the night. The Lake County Homestead. A grand old 130 year old mansion. The owners both very religious and Surnians. Some kind of Christian sect. No point in even asking them where we could buy some beer from.

They were quite impressed once they realised we had driven the rickshaw all the way from Jaisalmer. He was on the phone to the local newspaper to arrange a travel article. We however were more concerned about checking out Kochi and meeting up with some of the others and having a well earned beer.

Kochi is quite a big city. The Fort Kochi area however is a very pleasant. Distinct Portuguese architecture. Many buildings had been restored. Most hadn't. Large trees provided plenty of shade. Hundreds of Indians paraded along the waterfront promenade littered with all kinds of tourist trinkets, ice cream vendors and the like. A public holiday so most shops shut. We had to settle for deep fried ice cream whilst we joined the parade.

Our accommodation was a good half hour from the Fort Kochi area so no way were we going to hand in our tuk tuk just yet.

We considered our options. We could travel a couple of hours further to check out more of the Kerala backwaters. But with the traffic and uncertainty of the public holidays, we instead opted for the Lulu Mall. It was here we would see how the middle class of India spend their time (and money).

A fully air-conditioned shopping mall. Absolutely packed with well dress shoppers and families. For the first time in a couple of weeks, we decided to break apart our small family group for half an hour whilst we each did our own thing. Chris wanted to buy some work clothes for back home. William went searching for beer. I just wandered around in a mall like stupor.

Chris found clothes. William found no beer. I was keen to get into a stupor. The 5 star Marriott was adjacent to the mall and it would surely have beer? We were advised not but that the Holiday Inn a couple of kilometres away would. After arriving their and having our tuk tuk parked by a valet, we found the bar - which was shut and no longer operational. Our valet was a little dumbfounded when we asked for our tuk tuk back just moments after he had slotted it in somewhere.

What to do now? And then we saw the Golden Arches of Maccas. Ice cream time. We proudly entered the drive through and ordered 3 cones. (In Goa, do that and you don't end up with ice cream!)

Let me tell you something about trying to eat a chocolate coated soft serve ice cream on a stinking hot day while trying to drive a tuk tuk in heavy traffic.

Driving a tuk tuk requires squeezing your left hand on the clutch throttle and rotating your wrist to change gears. Your right hand controls the accelerator with your right hand thumb constantly on the horn. Not much room left for a decent grip on the rapidly dripping ice cream cone. Dang!

I drove back to Fort Kochin with rather sticky hands and a few new stains on my shirt. (Other stains included sweat, oil, masala chai and several forms of mould and other bacteria.)

We found our next nights hotel and were pleasantly surprised to see it was just a hundred metres or so from the Rickshaw Run finish line.

The What's App app was going full throttle. The main conversation being how to get beers and from where. Consensus was a couple of the upmarket restaurants were willing to bend the rules. By the time we arrived at the Lighthouse Inn restaurant, the place was very busy. And not surprisingly, the beer price was probably triple what it should have been We ordered some anyway. And waited. And waited. And waited.

How hard can it be to bring over 3 beers for three weary Rickshaw Wallahs? This was not a good Friday for us. Stuff em! We'll go the other restaurant.

Too late. They had run out of beer and some other runners were polishing off the last bottle of their rum. We were now totally disheartened. A rumour of another restaurant serving beer turned out to be fruitless as well.

Tired. Thirsty. Filthy dirty. Hungry. We now just wanted something to eat so we could get this night over with.

A rooftop Tibetan Restaurant with a few westerners seemed our best option. We ordered 3 dishes. 10 minutes later, the "waitress" (who looked to be in her early teens) told us there was no chicken left. Or mutton. Or any other dish we ordered. No worries. We ordered some spring rolls, vegetable momos and rice instead. In around 15 minutes, a couple of spring rolls turned up. With no plates or cutlery. After some gesticulating, we ended up with a spoon each devoured our third of the spring rolls.

Another half hour rolled by.....Eventually we realised something wasn't quite right. We were the only diners left. Down the stairs to question the child waitress about the remainder of our food. She had no idea. Off to the kitchen where a couple of cooks were playing games on their phones. When they realised this crazy and hungry westerner was wanting his food, they looked at the waitress and told her.....they forgot to cook it.

All we had to do was wait for another half hour or so and the could cook something.

Bullshit. We were out of there vowing never to return.

Kochi had not been the holy grail we were expecting after 3000km on the road.

Could this night get any worse!

Yes.

And no.

The bad news is we ran out of fuel and had no back up supplies.

The good news was we had run out literally 50 metres from the gates of our mansion. So not a huge problem after all. At least not for me who volunteered to steer the tuk tuk whilst Chris and William pushed.

Let's just say two young adults pushing a tuk tuk were less powerful than its 7hp 140cc motor! No matter how much I encouraged them, we rolled into the courtyard slower than a wandering cow.

Bed.