The finish line.

Anyone who is upset that I've only updated the blog twice during the entire trip should know that it's a little bit difficult when we're on the road 10 hours a day so that when we reach a hotel all we want to do is relax and watch a silly movie on HBO India; or possibly some incomprehensible Bollywood flick. I'll attempt to write a full account when we reach the British embassy in Delhi on Monday night.

Day 10. This was easily the worst day of the trip. Finn had some kind of food poisoning and I was just generally sick from having inhaled the ashes of too many dead people (at least, that's my theory). Nonetheless I had to drive all day while Finn lay in the back clutching his stomach. My blisters had blisters, and when a man we asked for directions informed us we were right off the map, I just wanted to give up right there and then. Fortunately we managed to make it to the dustiest city on Earth just as night fell and to locate a hotel despite friendly locals' directions.

Day 11. A traffic jam in India isn't like the ones we get back home. Today we encountered the first serious traffic jam of the trip, and to me the expression "traffic scrum" seems more apt. The trick, at least for rickshaw drivers, is to drive off the side of the road in the dirt until you are forced to either cut back in or drive into a 6 foot ditch. Thanks to our aggressive (suicidal?) driving we nonetheless managed complete 400km in the day, finishing up at Purnia: the most sinister city we have visited. As soon as night fell in that place, every shop closed and drew metal shutters. A man in the hotel lobby stared at me as if as I was insane as I walked out at 9pm to try and find some supplies.

Day 12. West Bengal is the prettiest state we've seen since Kerala. Green fields and tea plantations and absolutely no breakdowns. Feeling anxious that the rickshaw will make it the last 400km without totally disintegrating.

Day 13. Spotted a bit of Himalaya in the morning - the closest I've been to a real mountain range. An innocent looking puddle turned out to be an axle-breaker. Fifty rupees and half an hour later and we were on the road again. Truly this was the most tedious road we drove: half a kilometre of pristine highway followed by another half of gravel and construction site, repeated ad nauseam.

Managed to nab a quick blessing off Vishnu in the late afternoon and also rub some goat faeces into the wound on my toe in the process.

 

Day 14. I'll get back to you when it's finished.

The first few days

OK, here is our long-awaited first adventuring blog entry. I haven't much time, so I'll stick with issuing a short diary of events so far.

 

Day 1. After two hours standing around in sweltering heat, we set off, led by our two flagships: the Italians, with their patriotic paintjob, chrome hubcaps and custom horn; and the Aussies, with their giant, hand-made plywood dove on the roof.

Finn did the honours of driving out of Kochi. It was uneventful; Indian driving isn't all it's cracked up to be. We did manage to lose his wallet within about four hours, though.

We bumped into many other runners on that first day, mostly by getting lost and then subsequently catching up with the same few people.We made a plan to rendez-vous with the hippy van (real name: I forget) at a place called Kappad beach.

This took longer than expected due to the unpredictable Indian road system and complete lack of signposts. We followed a series of progressively less convincing signs to Calicut, which eventually petered out completely, leaving us in an unintelligible warren of tiny roads. Also, we eventually ran totally out of fuel on the main road (rickshaws have no petrol gauge) and had to siphon off a passing motorist.

We eventually reached Kappad at nine. Finding a hotel proved to be challenging. However, I can genuinely recommend the place we did eventually find. I regretted that our stay there was to last only eight hours.

 

Day 2. We met up with the hippy van for breakfast, and then parted at ten, significantly later than expected, and probably never to see them again. Went for a dip in the sea before leaving. Kappad is one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen, and completely deserted.

The plan was to drive through Wyanad and see the monkeys. This was eventually successful, though again took longer than we had hoped due to futile attempts to navigate with compass alone.

Spirits rose as we ascended the eleven hairpin bends (at 20 km/h - rickshaws were not built to traverse mountains). Over the top was a land of coffee and banana plantations and small villages which put me in mind of (how I imagine) Cuba.  We also drove through a nature reserve and observed a motorcyclist feeding the macaques.

The border guards (Kerala to Karnatka) were amused by our plan to drive to Shillong.

The latter part of the day we spent driving through beautiful plains with something of the Mediterranean about them. The sky in the evening was gorgeous - though round these parts, they always are.

Unfortunately the roads quickly deteriorated along with our hopes of reaching anywhere civilised by nightfall. The day ended with a mad, blind dash along a route more pothole than road and a final, grateful collapse into bed in a hotel on the outskirts of Hassan. I do not recommend anyone try to replicate this particular part of our journey.

 

Day 3. We got up and left at a sensible time and drove the correct way along reasonably well-maintained roads to Hampi. Not terribly adventurous, I know. On the other hand, we did get to partake of the famous Indian custom of driving the wrong way down a dual carriageway.

Hampi was essentially a huge mob of people populated by some buildings. I accidentally hit a motorcycle, alerting a nearby policeman; luckily I was able to confuse him by asking for directions. The lovely Padma (whose lodgings are recommended by "Lovely Plant") set us up with a room overlooking the main temple.

Since the sun had not yet set, we were able to have a look around the local ruins. The striking scenery was sadly marred by piles of rubbish from the previous day's festival. On the plus side, this did mean that the main temple was bustling with people doing Hinduism, many of whom wanted their photos taken with us. I donated some change to an elephant, who patted me on the head with her trunk.

 

Day 4. The days become less eventful as our competence improves. 320 km of highway was interrupted only by a breakdown in the middle of a desolate wasteland miles from any form of settlement. In a rare moment of brilliance I managed to slice open my toe on a local pebble; fortunately at this point we still had a hefty medicine cabinet at our disposal.

As sunset neared, we spotted a large palace-type-thing off the main road, which we went to investigate. It turned out to be a major historical site (Bijapur) equipped with a pretty sweet echo chamber. A guard told me I had "good culture" for wanting to put my rubbish in the bin.

There aren't many bins in India.

 

Day 5. Not much to say here, except that as the road surfaces become smoother the driving of lorry drivers gets ever more insanely dangerous - we have had to swerve right off the road at least ten times today.

We drove from Solapur to Ellora. We lost the petrol cap and bought a new one for 50 rupees. A mini tornado formed spontaneously around the rickshaw and stole half of Finn's malaria pills. And that's about it.

So I'm sitting here in the only hotel in Ellora, covered in dirt, grime, and petrol, and bearing the sort of tan lines that can only be achieved by sitting on the left side of a rickshaw heading north for days on end. There's a gigantic dead cockroach on the table in our room and the toilet is a hole in the floor. And I'll get back to updating this blog as soon as I get to another place with a computer and internet connection with half an hour to spare.

The starting line

The adventure begins tomorrow. Are we ready? Inasmuch as one can be ready for such things, which is to say, not particularly.

We've pretty much got the hang of driving the rickshaw, and hopefully the 'boys' should be getting our paintjob sorted  today. If we're feeling organised we may go cruising for tat to hang off the 'shaw, wherein we will follow the sage advice of a local rickshaw driver: that nothing is worth more than 100 rupes.

We runners are pretty much the centre of attention round these parts, as local businessmen and miscellaneous tourists converge on the group of Westerners (badly) driving funny-looking rickshaws around town, causing mayhem and mischief in certain instances. Gratifyingly, I personally have been called 'crazy' and 'barking mad' by various individuals.

Today it's cricket, then a party, and then we set off tomorrow at 10am. We start at the deep end, driving through a big city right away. I'll report back with the number of people that crash in the first hour.

We're off!

Off in search of madcap adventure. Arriving in Kochi at 8am on Friday. Got the essentials: maps, duct tape, emergency bog roll, mysterious key I found at a train station. Hope to purchase spanner when I get there.

 

Hopefully I'll get to update this blog every few days, so that anyone who cares can envy and marvel at our daring and intrepidity.