Leaving Kathmandu to Pokhara we knew we were racing westwards hoping to stay in front of the rain. The mountains however had been covered in clouds for our entire visit so far and we did not really anticipate Pokhara's famous skyline to be visible. The ride from Kathmandu however was great but hard work, we did not actually make great progress cycling; it was hot, we were unused to the exercise after weeks in the city and were distracted a lot by huge Himalayan rivers slipping by inviting us to jump in and swim. Also on the way from Kathmandu Robin's [View Full Entry]

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So we promised ourselves we would update this blog more often and look what happens. We left you as we entered Nepal some months ago, we are right now back in Northern Pakistan, so we have some ground to cover to bring things up to date, something we have been putting off for ages. Our excuses are many and varied, some good, some not so, but I’ll leave all that for now. We have seen and done some amazing things in the last 4 months, but much of it is no longer so fresh in our minds so and I fear [View Full Entry]

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Finally we were about to set off on foot into the mountains, our first proper foray into the Himalayas. We were already in a wonderful place both physically and mentally; the steep beautiful green valleys, the peaceful monasteries and smiling people made us feel a world away from our angst on the plains of Northern India. The exhilarating down hills and the breathtaking views across impossibly steep slopes had made us happy and relaxed and we were enjoying the wonderful free attitude that had been with us earlier in our trip and which we had lost in the plains of India. [View Full Entry]

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Our plan had been simple, get off the bus in Siliguri early in the morning and get the hell out of the plains, uphill towards Darjeeling and Sikkim. Just anywhere upwards that would take us to cooler air and away from the sweltering, stinking plains. Of course by the time we actually arrive in Siliguri, having had all of ten minutes sleep on the bumpiest road in India, we have no energy to move anywhere. We slope off to a nice quiet hotel, stand under a cold shower for 10 minutes, and collapse onto a comfy bed for some sleep at [View Full Entry]

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The bus drops us at the junction to Shillong, where the road back to Guwahati forks sharply uphill next to a small Hindu temple. It is midday and the sun is beating down on us as we re-load the bikes, which have emerged unscathed from the back of the bus - no damage and only 2 minutes to load and unload at either end, and cheaper than putting them on the train. We vow to use buses from now on if we don’t want to cycle. After a quick feast of fried rice at a small dhaba opposite the temple we [View Full Entry]

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I wake after a fitful sleep on the top bunk of our second class sleeper, still depressed at being on the train, still depressed with the way our trip has been going lately; all the illnesses, the hassles, broken bikes, arguments with each other, this just wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Is this what I gave up a decent job and life back home for, to travel around India getting pissed off with the place, the people, Erika and now even myself? I wonder about just going home, but to what? Sure it would be good to see [View Full Entry]

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In my imagination Calcutta was a romantic, exotic place; home of the British Raj. I imagined old steamboats chugging up the Houghli River arriving at veranda bungalows. This image was battling beside what I knew was one of the world's most besieged cities, the waves of floods, people, poverty and pollution had caused other travellers to warn us that it was not a place to hang around in. Still it is India's cultural capital; many great authors, academics and cricketers hail from here. Calcutta has not disappointed. Now known as Kalkota it is described as "the City of Joy" or "the [View Full Entry]

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We woke early for our cycle towards Bodh Gaya in Bihar state. But breakfast on the balcony was not as planned since it was raining again, not a good omen. By the time we actually loaded up the bikes ready to push them up and out of the labyrinth of lanes in the old city the rain was just lightly drizzling and all the mud and various droppings in the lanes meant we had to be really careful. We had just got out of the lanes and were cycling along the wet street when I looked up to see Robin screeching [View Full Entry]

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Varanasi is one of the strangest places I have ever been to, a piece of living, breathing history that seems strangely unaffected by the modern world that surrounds it and penetrates it. As we discovered on our way into the city, there is not even a proper road in or out that connects the city to the motorway-style bypass, and in many other ways it felt strangely disconnected in both time and space. Life in the old city and along the ghats of the Ganga continues in much the same the same way that it has for centuries, if not millennia. [View Full Entry]

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The approach road to Orchha was really lovely, it wound up and down on gentle slopes passing big shady trees and through fields that were dotted with ruined pavilions and old temples. We arrived tired as lunch was definitely overdue. We planned to stay for two nights in Orchha to have one full day there and then get back on the road to put our new plan of cycling and renewed motivation and enthusiasm into practice. But the first impression of Orchha quickly put this idea on the back burner, we knew it was a place that merited a longer stop [View Full Entry]

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