End of the road....for now
Day 18 - Fort Kochi and finish line party.
When man created the concept of an overland journey, he simultaneously created the concept of the finish line. Although, anti-climatically, we had crossed the finish line the previous day, the moment of realisation that our epic struggle against road markings and bitumen had come to a final and triumphant end. The last day of the tour and potentially the blog, the beefsters are all tiring of having to creatively write our memoires at the end of each day, although we're glad that we have documented some of the craziest days of our lives.
The plan was to take a boat trip on the much hyped 'Keralan backwaters' - this conjures up images of local riverside villagers going about their everyday lives in the intense heat with the boat drifting along past lurid green vegetation. The reality was a tacky tour that wouldn't have looked out of place on 'Coachtrip'. Brendan (Tom) was unable to make the tour as his once-hardened stomach has been reduced to a quivering wreck by the roadside cafes and 12 hour driving days. The remaining team members left early pretending they had only booked a half-day tour.
After returning to our now much-loved accomodation Tom was found in a slightly better state, having dabbled in a concoction of drugs, well, imodium and ibuprofen. We all decided it was time to reintroduce our little Rick to his friends and took the little beaut back to the parade ground where the other 44 rickshaws were lined up, this signified that we had come in 45th place out of 65. To race ahead was not the point for any team however, and to do so would have been completely missing the whole idea behind the event, i.e seeing the real India at 30 miles an hour.Â
At the finish line we signed the board and made a comment. Many of the other adventurists mimicked our thoughts of the trip in their comments...'Left is Right, today is yesterday, police don't take bribes' (hmmm...well at least the one we saw gave it back while we were still around). Beforehand we had taken one last drive with Mark at the helm and behaving like a typical Indian driver. Unfortunately one without the required skills. After 2700km (ish) of deadly bus drivers and a cacophony of horns he nearly ended it all in a quiet backstreet. We then headed for lunch and found the first truly good coffee for a loooong time. With Kerry beaming from ear to ear at this little gem we were off to get ready for the finish party.
Arriving at the tourist dock doled up in out finest indian garb we boarded our vessel bound for Bolghatty Island and the Palace Hotel. The boat was rammed with Runners admiring the beautiful night scenery, looks of relief and reckless abandon etched upon many a face. The drinking and festivities began with a traditional Keralan martial arts show. Featuring many different weapons and choreographed moves this was mildly interesting and the smell of petrol from the fire eaters filled the air like the smell of a roadside filling station for minutes afterwards. The finale however involved more petrol being spat from mouths than we had purchased on our entire trip! Now this was massively impressive! Especially in the dark of the night with duets of fireballs rising 15ft into the air and backflips while breathing fire leaving everyone astonished.Â
The party continued interspersed with awards for ingenuity of rickshaw pimping, fancy dress costumes and the most disasterous run award. This one was well deserved...one rickshaw burned to a crisp after welding with the fuel tank in place...this before the run had even started. The second ended in a ditch with a resultant hospital visit. One of the teams were deservedly rewarded for determination beyond the call of duty. Having to push their steed the last 10km following a run in with a lorry.
Many other injuries had clearly been sustained and we all felt slightly blessed to be in such good health. Discounting, of course, the slightly odd behaviour of stomachs and intestinal tracts here and there.Â
We left the party early and in true holy beef style we turned the return boat into a better party than the one held at the five star hotel behind us. One of the deckhands played us some 70's classics on the boat's sound system while we danced stupidly around like we were at a Keralan carnival on diesel filmed water. The resident occasional DJ gave us all a bizarre kiss as we docked up at Fort Kochi and we felt we had made his year let alone his night. Matheo from Venezuela/Colombia/New York joined for a night cap at the Tree House bar which was closed but we woke up the owner and stayed for a while. Morgan was touched by the comments of the bar owner that he had 'no money but great friends' with us all there with him. At this point, Morgan felt that the 'secret millionnaire' plan had to be put into action and left an astromical tip, at least by Indian standards. It was greatly received and a complete surprise to the owner. We all left to huge hugs. It was Morgan's final goodbye to the rickshaw run and India. We all went to bed with big imodium assisted smiles. Â
The final cut.
Day 17 - Kannur to Fort Cochi (280km)
We packed and mounted our trusty steed for the final long journey, our confidence in her sky high now we had experienced several days of good running. What do you know...30km up the road and we seem to experience the old problem again. Resigned to a day of constant stopping we soldier on. It soon becomes apparent however that sure Rick was only taking the piss and she's running as sweet as ever.
The journey goes well and we have few stops...only to fill Sure rick and to stop for a KFC or EFC as its locally known - European fried chicken???! Again everybody is astounded by the nature of our trip and we are greeted warmly.
On entry into Kerala from Karnataka we are met with the sight of the sea just off the road. In bouyant mood we stop briefly to take in one of the best views of the trip so far. Sea one side and and a beautiful lagoon the other. A blissful place which, yet again, we were unable to do justice to by spending some time there. This has been a serious frustration during our trip...had we started with a working rickshaw the time spent stopping in random locations would have increased dramatically.
On the cruise down the coast we ended up in convoy with 4 other rickshaws and it was comforting to know we were back in the thick of the action. We also learned that the finish party was not actually today but tomorrow, Doh!. All that complaining about not being able to stop. Again disorganisation strikes at our hearts! Still....thats us.
The approach to Cochi was rather a shock to us. Naively expecting to turn up in the city centre and not hit the traffic. Its unbelieveable that we have learn't nothing in our two weeks of travel. Heading for Fort Cochi we came to a halt numerous times and began to get used to breathing fumes instead of air again.
Arriving in the Fort area at sunset we set about trying to find some accomodation. After a couple of viewings and pricings we settled on a lovely home stay (b&b) place with a delightfully charming host named Abbu 'Honolulu Homestay' if you need a recommendation.
After tuk-tuking to the seagull for drinkies and dinner we meandered randomly through the streets looking for a driver. The genius of this was that we found a lovely little place called 'Bob Marleys Cafe' for a nightcap. One of the customers there seemed to be enjoying himself a great deal and hence you may find us somewhere on youtube going 'Meeep Meeep!'. We just prayed the guy got home.
Off to bed fairly early for a backwater boat trip in the morning....Yay.
Record mileage
Day 16 - Gokarna (Om Beach) to Kannur (approx 400kms!!!!!!!)
Why do something today when you can put it off for tomorrow? Today was a harsh lesson in why this proverb does not exist. Whilst idly enjoying the sun and abundance of palm trees the previous day, a niggling feeling of still having to complete 700 kilometres on roads of dubious quality had been eating away at Holybeef. Today we had to face it head on and started at half past the ridiculous hour of seven and sped noisily up hills and deep into potholes towards Mangalore.Â
The occasional stop for refueling soon became every two hours as we tried little rick at his full speed of 60kmph. A pitstop at the hindu pilgrimage town of Udupi was slightly disappointing but it gave us a very acute realisation of the intensifying heat. We powered on and passed Mangalore by the early afternoon, 240kms under our belt and brimming with sunburnt confidence.Â
Another pitstop at an 'Arabian Restaurant' opposite a mosque was our first real taste of Kerala as we had crossed the state border half an hour earlier. People stopped and stared in their usual way but the overall feeling was not as welcoming as we had come accustomed to. A tasty dish of chicken fried noodles tasted anything but Arabian but did the job and we were back on the road by 4pm.Â
We said we wouldn't drive at night but we say a lot of things and once again we went against our own word. The driving got more difficult as the roads became steadily busier and more potholed. Mark took over as our resident night driver and we slowly made our way to Kannur, a journey of 100kms that took the best part of three and a half hours.Â
We checked into the Malabar Residency and despite the cockroaches it was 'the first three star hotel in Kannur' - the excrutiatingly slow lift to the fourth floor led us to use the stairs instead. Morgan and Tom took a trip out to the seedy beer shop where they were surrounded by drunk Indians and a less than friendly barman. A meal in possibly the most sterile restaurant capped off a day of contrasts, ready for bed now, night night, love you, mean it, bye xxxxÂ
'On the road again!'
Day 13 - Vagator to Palolem to Gokarna - approx 160 kms
A semi rest day, with still a fair bit of driving thrown in. We woke early but were tempted into having breakfast at our hotel. On the road for 11 and cruising through ultra-bright green rice paddies and lazy palm trees for the next two and a half hours, we arrived at Palolem for the early afternoon. Palolem is possibly Goa's most beautiful beach and ticks every box on a checklist of what a tropical beach should look like. The second time round for Tom and Kerry was not a disappointment and neither was the first time round for Mark and Morgan. We spent the best part of the afternoon soaking up rays and deflecting the tireless energy of the beach sellers. Morgan tried his hardest to give them the polite brush off and then the impolite brush off but every time I came back from a swim he had made friends with them and was practically swapping email addresses never mind buying coral necklaces. Kerry and Mark looked on in amusement and before we knew it the time had arrived to head off on the second leg of the day's journey.Â
The drive to Gokarna was slightly underestimated (by Tom)."It's only about 50k or so..." it turned out ot 110 km and as the journey was attempted at 5.30 in the evening, most of it had to completed in total darkness. The police at the Goa-Karnataka border asked us for english coins, I happened to have some so gave them 50p. Was this a bribe? I don't know but once I handed the coin over, a crowd of border guards descended on us and soon a further 20p was handed over, if these amounts had been handed out in indian currency then I would have felt seriously wronged but the surplus english change was happily parted with and we drove on. The rickshaw got us down a few more steep hills and we arrived at Om beach at 9pm. Too much night driving again but we were happy to see another rickshaw from our group, we shared dinner with the four australians driving herby the lovebug. They were planning to head straight to Mangalore in the morning and we were considering the prospect of driving up bad roads to Jog Falls. Our negative feelings about the drive were compounded when the waiter at the Namaste Cafe told us there was no way of cutting south from the falls and we would have to travel 150kms back on ourselves in order to rejoin the NH17 South towards Kerala. Holybeef rule: 'never go back' .... It was settled, another rest day in Gokarna.
Were we making a huge mistake with 650kms to go and only two actual driving days to eat up the klicks, only time and the NH17 would tell. Â Â
How do we relax again?
Day 12 - Rest day in Goa (approx 0km)
Our first well-earned day off (not counting our forced bed/toilet day in Jaisalmer), and it felt pretty damn good. We rolled straight out of bed and into the pool, then ordered a full english breakfast, tacky but 'needs must'..."anything to drink with your breakfast sir?" ... "four kingfishers please," (needs must). Goa, after all, was always going to be a milestone on our journey and it felt worth celebrating. After beery breakfast a leisurely stroll down to Little Vagator beach followed and more beer flowed. We were being transformed from true travellers with white knuckles from hairy road traffic experiences to four brits abroad, but again it felt good. We tested the water and it was perfect swimming temperature. Cows strolled past and occasionally mooed lazily as the palms swayed in the light breeze, poetry in motion.Â
The evening arrived quickly as we had woken so late but we weren't exactly in a hurry to do anything strenuous at all and a wander around the markets was put off in favour of a few more beers around the pool. An evening meal and a few games of ping pong with Firas, Karim and Pavet and an early(ish) night, good times in the sun. Â Â
Zero to Hero
Day 7: Ahmedabad - Bharuch - approx 200 kms
After the chaos of arriving at night in the hectic smog-bowl of Ahmedabad, our collective frayed nerves were not exactly soothed by our early morning exit of the city. 'No three-wheeler!' we were told as we attempted to merge onto a motorway the size of the M25. Luckily however the traffic officer who pointed out our distinct lack of a fourth wheel also let us turn round and drive the wrong way towards oncoming traffic in order to get back to the right road.Â
Once over a bridge we were met with greenery that would surely have wilted and died after a single day's exposure to the fumes of the city behind us. The scenery then began to rapidly change from urban to rural as factories were replaced with fields of unknown crops in neat rows. An accidental game of chicken with a bus managed to wake everyone up again and the driving then started to get increasingly hairy with no beard trimmers in sight.Â
Next stop was Nadiad where we managed to finally pick up an Ipod speaker for a cut price, unfortunately the parts it was put togather with were also cut price and it lasted no more than 4 tracks before mysteriously switching itself off forever.Â
We saw yet more of our fellow Rickshaw Runners, further enforcing our feeling of catching up from our extra day in bed on New Years Day. We quickly left them though after being told that they were all being hassled by police for their documents. Our own experience with the police was much more welcoming, we were given red stickers to put on our rickshaw, apparently for no reason other than as an excuse for the police to take some picture with us.Â
In the afternoon the rickshaw began to falter and got steadily worse. We located a mechanic to clean our carburetta and we picked up a few new friends along the way. We all ended signing autographs as a crowd of children swamped us. Another team of Canadians arrived and the interest grew, we left a baying crowd of shaking hands and waving and chugged off into the afternoon sun, much hotter now as we crossed the tropic the previous day.Â
Unfortunately the ecstasy of meeting some genuinely kind hearted and welcoming people soon turned to agony as our little rick started to conk out regularly and continued into the early evening. The hero of day 7 however was just round the corner as we sat and drank chai at a petrol station. Faz introduced himself and mentioned that he was 'from Preston' it took us aback slightly but he explained that he is fromn Gujurat but also spends half his time in the Central Lancastrian metropolis. We soon became best of friends and he offered us the biggest ray of hope for our journey towards the tip of India. He arranged for a mechanic to drive our rick waller and see what was wrong, he also told us of a good hotel we could stay in in Bharuch, he also offered to escort us the remaining 25 kms there. So much generousity within minutes of meeting is unheard of anywhere on this planet, as far as we were aware and it touched our tired hearts and brought a big beefy smile to the whole team.Â
We made it to the hotel and bidded goodbye to our saviour and his trusty sidekick the mechanic who really made our day if not our trip so far. Thank you Faz if you ever read this. It's now time for bed and hopefully the rickstein will be fixed tomorrow allowing us a new top speed of 50 kms an hour! It will feel like mach 3 after the last few days. Good night and god bless.... Â Â Â Â Â Â
A scent of success?
DAY 6 - Sanchore to Ahmedabad...
Ok...another early start. Began the day waking the hotel staff to request coffee and toast which was on the menu. Wishful thinking all round realy but ce la vie. Coffee soon developed a nice film which was offputting to say the least.
This debacle was followed by my obsession with getting a fuel filter to try and solve the problems we had been experiencing. After finally finding an english speaker...of sorts...we were taken through the real streets to a mechanics house who had to go and change his trousers???! Fair enough we thought.Â
We had tried to explain what it was we wanted but apparently had not managed to an understandable degree because after getting on the rickshaw taxi with us and collecting his tools (he then appeared to simply steal a piece of pipe from a guy on the street) we headed back to our baby. Here we again went throught the ritual of showing him the part we needed from the taxishaw and finally a little bulb appeared over his head. More driving around followed but eventually we found the part and we went back again. I fitted the part to an audience and we finally set off after buying the pipe he had stolen as a spare!
Surprisingly enough the filter had no effect. Typical. Well at least it was a messy taste of backstreet life! We were also finally nice and warm in the morning after Morgan cunningly suggested using our only sleeping bag as a blanket. This was appreciated massively so thanks to the kind donor! ;-)
We made pretty good time compared to the previous morning and majestically fluked the route through from Tharad. We then stopped in a random town and discovered just how popular Kerry IS with the locals. At first Morgan and i waited in the rickshaw while Tom and Kez went looking for snacks and puni. We had a little attention and a guy said he'd seen another team a few klicks ahead. I also got to look at one of the kid's pencil cases (not a euphamism despite our current Fritzl obssession). Kez and Tom then arrived back having recieved too much attention and Tom and I headed off to quickly find puni and some nut crunch to tease Morgan with. Three minutes later and the rickshaw was surrounded...turns out Kerry attracts indians like flies to shite (sorry Kez).
The final stint became pretty intense as we gradually neared Ahmedabad. Coming into the outskirts the pollution and traffic increase exponentially. By the time we were close to the centre it was horrific. Thoroughly lost and dazed we enlisted the help of a rickshaw driver to lead us to the Ritz Inn...Just Mental! Tom drove with him and the rest of us followed trying to keep so close that we could hold hands. Toms driver bumped 4 people and i gave at least 2 a lovetap. Another rickshaw leader and two stalls (mad panic thinking fuel had run out) later and we arrived screaming and shaking to the Ritz! Never been so happy to see such a haven.
Alive and well now after the shakes have gone and the food is in! No beer tho, the bastards, Now its time for bed! Whoop whoop!
Love to all you guys following this!
We're off.....
Day 4: Jaisalmer - Jaisalmer
Today we travelled from our rooms, out to the lobby and back to deposit whatever we had eaten into the once clean toilet bowls of the Jawahar Niwas Palace. We sat through the anti climatic send off and even pretended that we were leaving with the convoy of rickshaws too (but turned off to get some water and a jerry can then headed back to puke and poo for the rest of the day - such a cliched Indian travelling story).Â
The best that came out of the day was the invention that will no doubt darken the doors of Duncan Bannatyne at some point, that being Imodium filled Samosas, the first self sufficient foreign food. They should be hitting the stores by 2012.
Day 4 was generally depressing and massively grim if I'm going to put a positive spin on it but they say that travelling's all about ups and downs, and whoever 'they' are, they know what they're talking about......
Day 5: Jaisalmer - Sanchore approx 300km
Day 5 was our official day 1, this was the day that men became women and boys became men, well something like that anyway, I often mix up proverbs when I'm on life. By the early morning we were farting with confidence, burping without a sick bag and generally covering a lot of kilometres, or klicks as the annoying often say. It was all going so well at 50km per hour until the power started to fade and we came to a halt at the side of the road, in the middle of the Thar semi-desert. It was freezing and the wind chill of an open rickshaw didn't add to anyone's personal warmth. As Mark fiddled with the fuel lines, the rest of us stood around scratching our beards (sorry Kerry, I know you'd just waxed). Then began a mass 'layering up' when the contents of our backpacks were emtpied out and shared around the group until we all looked like we were wearing 'fat suits'. Morgan looked especially fetching in a blue hoodie, black t-shirt and yellow vest top, all in that order of layering so to cause a blinding array of colours that put the eye-catching traditionally bright colours of Rajastahn to shame.Â
After standing around with a group of locals discussing the possible reasons as to why the engine was failing, a gem of of knowledge popped out of one their mouths: 'go slow' we took this literally and 2 hours later at 30 km per hour the advice was proven to be invaluable. The rest of the day fell into place and before we knew it we had covered 150km by the afternoon, the following 140 or so flew by as the scenerey began changing from sand dunes to much more lush greenery, even a few mini-mountains began popping up. The triumphant optimism of a satisfying days drive almost crashed like a three-wheeler into a pot-hole when the sun went down 15km before our destination. Thanks to the 'skills' of Mark we managed to make it to Sanchore about half an hour into the darkness of night. A little shaken up by the bullying of large trucks and the creepiness of Indians on the pull, while on a motorbike (they weren't after the flatulent members of the team but Kerry's charms led their handlebars astray mid-drive).Â
Mini-stress over with and a cunning plan to follow a local rickshaw driver to our hotel and we finally got to chill, well done guys I doth my cap to a mammoth all round effort and I hope this blog does todays work some justice.Â
Tomorrow's another day, for better or worse......
Are we nearly there yet??!
Well we could say we arrived safe and sound in Jaiselmer, on time and with no issues whatsoever. But that would be a complete fallacy!Plane was delayed 2hrs from Brussels but the flight was ultimately ok. Arrived in Delhi after trying to call the hotel for a pick-up....no answer. Taxi to hotel resulted in finding the place seemingly closed. Fortunately Kerry tried the door and fell over the 'night manager' sleeping on the floor. Hotel was ok but very little sleep was had by most when the removals guys arrived at 7 in the morning. Told by the manager in the morning that the train tracks had been broken for 3 days and we should let him arrange a car and driver for us??! Cheeky bastard...gold star for creativity tho.Got to the station and after almost punching 3 or 4 different people discovered we were not allowed on the train to Jaiselmer...no space....oops.Now it gets better! Found a travel place and bought tickets for a bus leaving at 9pm and supposedly arriving at 7am in Jaisalmer. Had a brief moment of joy sat waiting for the buses to arrive watching Kerry entertain the local populace with the kings of leon and 'sexy bitch'. We were finally ushered to a bus at about 10:30pm. Oh the joys...13hrs, two near death experiences (headlong towards two different fecking Lorrys), two out of the window pukes, one durschfall episode all in what appeared to be freezing fog (50m vis).We finally arrived at our destination, which, unbeknownst to us was a lovely little place called Bikaner...'what HAS happened?!' was the general concensus interspersed with numerous unprintable words. So...left with no further options we hired a driver and car for the last 350km.A brief test drive in our new baby has lightened the mood a little and we are now ready for the off. Bedtime has been set at 12:01 tho cos we are all shot to shit! Sad day indeed. 
