The last road

To fill in the blanks from the last on-the-road blog to the FINISH blog, I have selflessley eschewed the end of race party to jot down the last few events. A bad case of Delhi Belly has nothing to do with it whatsoever...

Day 11 continued..

The remainder of the drive to Silliguri was uneventful in the end, just a long drive through flat and pretty featureless scenery - we arrived in the satellite town that houses the Silliguri airport on the basis that this would be a good bet for hotels, and would avoid the hassle of a city hunt in Silliguri proper. Good guess, a local police officer checking in on the traffic cops at the town's main junction steered us to a nice place. We checked in daylight (again!) and went for a coffee and a meal. very civilised. much hassle with internet access, and eventually we were posted the previous road blog using the managers PC.

Day 12 up at 5:15 and heading out at 0600. We skipped past Silliguri on a bypass and started the switchback up into the foot hills of Darjeeling. With regret we turned away at the fork for Darjeeling and carried on towards Guwahati, 500km away. This of course is out of range for the day, so Bongaigoan looked to be our likely target at 350 - still a tough day.

Eventually we crossed from West Bengal into Assam - both states were a beautiful semi-jungle, rural landscape of well tended small holdings, with neat fencing and houses, bamboo in evidence everywhere as the go-to building material. Such a contrast to the filth of an Indian City, or even a small town. The Farmers are still managing to live a life in harmony with their environment, whereas the townsfolk are chasing the economic dream by the fastest routes possible - and struggling to live with the consequences of plastics, chemical and organic waste and the burden of building and city infrastructure maintenance costs that go along with progress.

On entering Assam, the phone's stopped working - roaming was disabled and we didn't have an Assamese SIM. This is a counter terrorism measure (not sure why) and was an indicator of dangers around. We drove on, mindful of the increase in Police and para-military prescence. The road here is anything but straight, and we inched across the map page. Eventually we found ourselves on the last road stretch before our town stop - NH31c. A road that seems to have been built by a mad-man. Or at least, part built. A 2+2 lane motorway, constructed in short sections of smooth, quality surface about 1km in length, but usually only one side, so traffic is contraflowing together. At the end of the stretch, a 6 inch drop step, follwed bay another, drops you onto a hundred yards or so of rock and hole strewn bare, un rolled earth, diagonally steering the trafic over to the opposite carriageway, for another smooth contraflow of 1km or so. This went on for over 50kms. We nearly went mad - just enough smooth tarmac to get up to full speed, slam on the brakes at the end, crash down the steps, bang across the rocks (dust coating everything and choking us and the 'shaw), bump back up matching steps on the other side and do it all over again. A vile experience, with not a road sign in sight and hence no idea of how long it would go on for..

It eventually stopped, but not before it went dark. We drove into Bongaigoan and shouted "hotel!?" at a passing car who had waved hello - he said "follow me!" and within 15 minutes we were checking in at a basic hotel in town. A bit rough, and the restaurant's weird mix of Constable copies, hung proudly next to plastic Disney characters and accompanied by a Linkin Park CD gave us food for thought with our food. Early to bed (we used our own sleeping bags in this Hotel...), with the Rickshaw locked away behind a heavy duty screen

Day 13

Morning saw us packed by 0600 and creeping downstairs to reception. We wondered if anyone would be about to open the gate. It turned out the staff sleep on the floor in reception, so after a bit of coughing and clanking in the Rickshaw, a sleepy guy opened up in his nightwear and waved us off.

Day 13....the final day, or at least we hoped so. 280 or so km to go, with a BIG hill at the end. The stretch to Guwahati was pretty easy, but more of the strange on and off motorway was relieved by happening upon the Ferrari team hunting for a shortcut off the motorway. We shared maps and intel and interrogated the locals - shortcuts have a way of going badly wrong - and decided to take the plunge together. Team Ferrari led off, with us following. Initially, the tiny track had us all worried - a slow shortcut is no shortcut. But after 1km or so it opened into a well maintained, flowing country road, with minimal traffic and upmarket houses and tidy smallholdings surrounding it. The Ferrari guys can drive, so we had to sprint to keep up - with them in Scuderia Scarlet and us with our Indian green, white and orange Force-India livery it was like a demented Grand Prix race - great fun. And very quick, shaving 30km of the broken up motorway route. So pleased were we with our recoved hour, that we stopped for a long lunch - the first time since the early days really.

After lunch (we met another team at the Dhaba cafe we chose - everyone is converging after taking routes some 1000 or so kms apart from each other) we pressed on into Meghalaya - and towards the Finish line. A nasty drive through very heavy construction traffic, and terrible dust, in the full heat of the day gave way to cooler air as we climbed. The Scenary became what I imagine Nepal to be like - dark trees, lodge houses piled up the side of the mountain, jeeps everywhere. The km' s ticked by - 80km to go from the base of the mountain, and each one was counted off. People waved, girls and women even (very rare) and then we found out why - There were banner ads welcoming the Rickshaw Run to the final stretch, courtesy of the Adventurists and Meghalya tourism. Some locals pulled us over for a chat - Indians who run tourist lodges in the area - and they explained the the Rickshaw Runners are celebrities up here - with coverage on TV in previous years.

We got to Shillong on the button of 80km - but the part of town we needed was another 10km or so to go. It was 1700, registration closed at 1800 and we saw bad traffic. After the longest 30 mins of the trip, we asked our last direction when we thought we were close enough for it to make sense: "Pinewood Hotel?" (where the finish is), and the smiling reply indicated it was just around the corner. Duly rounded, the corner revealed a broad chequered banner across the Hotel drive, with the most beautiful word in the English language emblazoned across it: FINISH. We screamed as we crossed, and then shouted some more in response to the cheers of welcome from our fellow runners, hanging out of the bar window and waving beers. We signed the board as number 20, and then hugged each other, and anyone nearby, as our Rickshaw Adventure officially ended.

　

Highway Star

Hello again.

Good intentions to be on the road by 0600 faded away in the face of another too-late-to-bed nights sleep. Nevertheless we were on our way by 0700, which was good enough. We drove straight to the highway (through the pretty lousy streets of "bewitching" Dindigul) and our spirits were instantly lifted by a smooth, freshly laid and painted ribbon of tarmac stretching for 380km to Bangalore - our destination. The first 4 hours flew past, relaxing and refreshing after the first two days of rough running. Of course, nothing is ever simple, and "The Knowledge" as we have dubbed our powerful young lady rickshaw, changed from purr to rattle to wheeze. Hills became slower and an alarming tapping from ahead forced a quick stop and a thorough inspect. Our old nemesis, the head gasket, had once again given up the ghost. Consulting the amenable chap who sold us a contemplatory coke, we were led to understand that 10km north east off our north bound highway was a mechanic who could help. In fact, we could then re join the highway via another road north west back from that town. So, with regret, we left our smooth motorway and headed off into the backwaters.. This turned into the usual stop-start mixture of asking for directions combined with dead reckoning. Our best ploy, we have found, if this approach fails (i.e. nearly always) is to beg or pay for help off of real auto-wallahs (professional rickshaw drivers). They usually know where you are trying to go to, are frighteningly accurate in distance estimation, and often sort a chap out with some tea, frequently refusing payment for any of it. In this town, in this instance, we were honoured by an escort to the mechanic by an auto guy. The mechanic couldn't help, no parts. We were pointed onwards - A Bajaj dealership! "The Knowledge"'s brand. But, no, they were two wheelers only, so sorry, cannot help. Try 500m down the road some more? Ok, another auto wallah was duly approached - beaming a smile, he phoned the mechanic to come and see us. A dapper, quiet gentlemen arrived on his motorbike, eyed our poorly girl critically, and asked us to follow. A few hundred yards down the road, was his tiny, grimy oil-black work-shed. Now, we have learnt to ignore this, and were comforted by his quick and accurate assesment, his simple explanation of the intended work and the time it would take and ultimately the result: All fixed, and with an explanation that some slight blowing would remain until the new gasket swelled into the irregularaties of the head and block faces (you can tell Wayne's writing this). Oh, and there was a good tea shop next door, which we drank sat on the plastic stools that we were given in the shade of the workshop. The local lads turned up for a photo call with Stu and I and they had a giggle about our journey. Paid up for the cleaned head and gasket replacement (£1.15 ish), the mechanic urged us to be careful of The Knowledge's feelings for the next 10km, and we rolled away, purring again. Oh, and by the way - all of the above was conducted with about 10 words of english....

Back on the highway, we cruised along or crawled up hills, all the while getting more comfortable with busses coming the wrong way up the dual carriageway, in the fast lane of course, motorbikes, people and cows using the hardshoulder in any direction and the occasional wide load - like, 3 lanes wide. As Banagalore started to hove into view distance wise, we noticed that power was once again falling off, and then the ominous rattle of head truoble again. A quick check revealed a slight blow, but this close to a first major service interval, we decided to ignore it and press on.

The light faded, with an hour to go to Bangalore City Centre - We'd picked a hotel from the guide, so felt confident we could just arrow straight into the city to our beds. Now, the journey into Bangalore city proper is going to be another lasting memory. All the things you've seen and heard about driving in Indian Cities are true. And we experienced it in the dark, in the rain, after 12 hours on the road. The really surprising thing is: it was the most fun I have had driving the Rickshaw. Scratch that, the most fun I have had driving ANYTHING. The secret at the heart of this is that there are only two rules on the road - don't hit anything, and sound your horn to let people know of the next crazy maneouver you are about to make. I cannot put into words what all the twists and turns and tiny gaps and multidirectional traffic was really like, but if anyone has played Grand Theft Auto, you know what happens when you get 5 stars and the police unleash hell trying to take you off the road? Just as much fun. Of couse I should point out, if you are sitting in a queue of traffic, the guy who cut you up 2 minutes earlier, or indeed you cut up, will lean across smile broadly and ask "where are you from?".

Having made it in unscathed, we discovered that the street we needed was buried behind a tricky one way system, so we went to find a real Rickshaw driver to lead us home. We found a gem in Ramo - he was about to go on his tea break, so he asked us to wait for him with his auto wallah buddies, and promptly bought us some hot tea (more tea...). We explained our adventure and Ramo and his mates watched the video of the start line (all 80 odd teams) on Wayne's phone. Ramo then led us over town, stopping off en-route to introduce us to the best mechanic in Bangalore (apparently, he races Rickshaws too. Got 120km/hr out of one apparently... we manage 50 typically) and, we showed our video to another interested crowd. Everyone wants to know what mileage we get in our brand new 'shaw - which makes us feel one of the boys, kicking tyres with the auto-wallahs.

Finally, we were led to quieter side streets and the hotel appeared. It was 2130, but the last 2 hours felt like the best of the day. We have realised that the distance is really tough, and the delays have killed any hopes of days off. But we have also realised that we had missed the point planning those days off anyway. What's the point in a guided tour in the back of a jeep around a tiger reserve with all the other tourists, when you can up close and personal with India on the road everyday?

Oh and don't get used to these long blogs - I just felt talkative tonight!

I just love that new car smell...

Here we are then, saturday, final pimping day (only pimping day for me!) and we have been becoming one with our rickshaw. Which is new. Not new to us, I mean NEW - it still has all the cellophane on. Whilst is feels like we're cheating, the draw is random, so we have simply decided to feel lucky, and perhaps a tiny bit smug. 

We arrived at the rickshaw compound at 10am, grabbed the keys from the lovely hosts and set about stickering up and installing the soundsystem. A few sizing issues, and some head scratching, but before long we had the beginnings of a natty looking shaw. But then our new best friend Ravim told us he had a spare slot in his paint and decorate crew, and is sorting us a natty paint job too, as  I write this. Back at our 4 star hotel. By the pool. With a beer. Good old Rahim.

We tested the amplifier ("sabotage", Beastie Boys) and gathered a crowd - one of the locals offered his mobile playing his favourite tunes too, so we boosted that output and grooved on down for a song or two (why does everyone in the world like Bob Marley?). Then we jumped in, fired her up, gunned the engine, dispersed the crowd screaming in terror and... stalled it pulling off. Not chaps to be set back, we tried again, and away we went. I cannot convey on words what driving it is like to be honest, but I will say this - I know what the horn is for.

Its the "Rickshaw Run" vs. The Kochin local cricket team in 15 mins, so thats all for now. More tomorrow, at the end of Day 1 in about 27 hours and 400kms....

48 hours to go

In 24 hours, Stu takes off from Heathrow on the first leg of the journey of a lifetime - Our Rickshaw Run adventure is nearly upon us. I join him the following day. Fund raising has been more successful than we could have ever hoped for: we whistled straight past our first target, and we are rapidly closing on the new target we set for ourselves - 2000 pounds. If you count gift aid, we even smashed that a week or so ago. We just wanted to get in touch and say thank you so much to everyone who has donated. Your generosity has been literally staggering. We try to make light of it, but the trip is going to be very tough. We will have bad days, tedious days, uncomfortable days and some downright dangerous days. But it is the belief that you have showed, the outpouring of support, that will carry both of us through those days. What's more, the money raised will have a much longer lasting effect on hundreds of people - probably saving lives, certainly making many difficult lives more bearable and safe. If you still want to donate, but haven't gotten around to it, our fund raising page is still going, and will be during the trip - just pop over to [http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/dac2011](http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/dac2011) and step through the 5 or so short pages you need to register and show your support. love and gratitude Wayne and StuartThe Desi Adventure Co-operative

We've made the target... so lets move it

# We've made the Target....

A thousand thanks, for £1000,  to everyone who has donated to our questionable quest. We are touched, really touched, by the overwhelming generosity of friends, family and colleagues. We hope we can keep you all entertained with updates of progress along the way.

# ......So lets move it!

The fundrasing target, that is. We have decided to ambitiously strike out, and DOUBLE our original aim - the new target is.....

 £2000 !!!

So, if you haven't donated yet, be part of something really amazing, and come with us in spirit on our madcap journey across India. We really appreciate the vote of confidence, it will carry us through the tough times and it will make the lives of many of the world's poorest a bit less grindingly difficult and dangerous.

 

Love and Gratitude

   Wayne and Stuart