"I'm going nowhere..."

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Continued from post on 16 November, 2012
And then last night I met Josh.

His story was an amazing one, if heart breaking. The Spanish girls had taken me to a spot where foreigners al hung out and I eventually got talking to him.
"I'm on a journey of learning and self delving and discovery. Last year my wife passed away after 12 years of marriage and my whole life changed over night."
Almost the whole world he had built up with someone else had been torn apart and fallen away. But before she had died, he had already started on that journey that he had just described to me, delving into the things that we have lost so much of in the west amidst the business and hecticness of life.
And so now he has taken that to new places and spaces, exploring fear, loneliness and solitude and how they enrich our lives when explored carefully but completely.
"These are all aspects of life which should not be ignored. They can be hard, very hard, but they are necessary for a full picture and I am finding lead to a richer life because of the actions and directions they point and lead me to. Its hard to really appreciate the good without the bad.
"And so I am going nowhere. Do you know what that really means? It is a very misunderstood and misused word. In fact it is four words. No where, but far more importantly, now here. A big part of it is state of mind. I am going nowhere. There is not so much a "where" I am going to. I am now here. When used properly it means I am living now. Here. Today. Not worrying about the future. Taking each day as it comes. Tomorrow I may move on, nowhere in particular, but once I am there I will be able to say "For now I am here." And this is the essence of adventure, discovery and travel. Even day to day life."

In one word, four words, he had summed up what I have been doing on motorbikes for the last few years. Travelling, going nowhere, being here and now and reveling in the simply joy of sitting on a motorbike. The trips being not so much about the destination but more about the journey. Living here and now, letting the past be the past and trying not to worry about the future.

26 November, 2012
"Here I am, I'm waiting for you…"

My last few days in Kolkata passed fairly uneventfully. Chasing flights and trains, checking buses, trying in vain to sleep. The lack of this was becoming quite a problem now; I was getting more and more run down, and I new I would get very little on the trip to Kathmandu.
I spent a day with Edwin and his wife, Leam, at their small home. A single room, most of which was taken up by a bed, and a small space in front for laundry and cooking. Having so little they still fed me an incredible meal and we shared a very pleasant afternoon.
"It is small and nothing, I know, but it is such a blessing and we thank God everyday for it. Our last house, it would flood with the monsoon, two feet of water all through, and because the toilet shared between our houses would flood as well, the water would be full of feces. It was not good. Now, our home will still flood, maybe only one foot, but the toilet is built higher and will stay dry."

I am still unwell and very tired, and words escape me a bit today, so I will leave that simple picture with you without further explanation or description. Think about your home, and then think about their home.

Finally I left the BMS for the last time. Only minutes before I had realized that this would be my last night in India and I felt overcome with emotion. I suddenly felt very lonely and home sick, leaving all the beautiful people I had met, behind. I only said goodbye to a couple of people and then slipped quietly away to the railway station. I knew that the beauty and adventure of Nepal awaited, but for now I felt very small and alone.

Another 12 hour train ride to New Jalpaiguri in northern West Bengal, with very little restless sleep and nothing to eat. I fought down my hunger and headed straight for the border.
Two and a half hours later I was sitting at Indian Immigration, checking out.
"That is all, thank you for visiting our country."
There were guards and soldiers but no one was being checked. You could easily walk straight through without any of the official business and no one would bat an eyelid, although it could lead to prison later on. I felt this made a complete mockery of the often strict and frustrating process of trying to get a visa from back home. Nepalli customs on the other side was the same.



Stepping onto the bridge spanning the river that separated the two countries, my heart flutters and soars. There is Nepal. I am now in no-mans land, in between, and I am walking through on my own two feet. What and extraordinary feeling.
Instantly the land seems to have changed with the border. Now far more lush and green, the faces different and far more reserved. Hardly anyone yelling at me trying to sell me something.
I book my bus ticket and settle down for that pass time I have become so accustomed to: waiting. I try to doze but sleep still eludes me even though the breeze is now notably colder than it was yesterday in Kolkata.
Had I known how the bus trip would turn out, I would have found something to knock me out, no matter the cost.

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