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Published: March 13th 2007
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 on the brakes swerving and falling and a very small Indian man go flying through the air, landing about 2 metres away in the muddy street. Luckily nobody was hurt but the little Indian guy was completely covered in mud, again another omen. We picked ourselves up and made it to the river where we managed to follow a local guy on a bike and cross the railway bridge, despite the fact that it was supposed to be closed for vehicles and we had been warned that we should take the ferry. On the other side the road was
still a mess and our progress was slow despite the flatness of the terrain. Robin kept saying “oh it’s easy” but I was not agreeing. I could not figure it out, but I was in a bad mood and of course could not manage to keep up with Robin despite him saying he was not going fast. A couple of hours later Robin again crashed, however this time skidding into a stray dog on the wet muddy road.
We had been hesitant in general about cycling into Bihar. It is the poorest sate in India and famous for crime and dacoits. After reading about the many corruptions, caste warfare and banditry in the state I had told Robin I would never cycle there, and yet here we were. The chief minister of the state has been found guilty of all kinds of criminal charges, and when he was forced to stand down temporarily because of corruption, he replaced himself with his illiterate wife! Add to this that everyone will tell you Bihar is “very backwards place” and is notorious for armed robberies and naxalite violence. We were well on track to be safely in a hotel by nightfall and
the people we met on the way all seemed very nice. No aggression at all, just staring. We found the cheapest ever lunch we have had on the trip; 12 rupees for a thali of rice, 2 veg, and daal. The guys at the dhaba were very friendly and watched with amusement as we got out our rain jackets and ordered a chai to delay setting off into the rain which had then become quite heavy.
By the time we arrived in Sasaram I was really tired the road had become totally clogged with trucks and buses. They were building the bypass for the town but in the mean time everything was still piling straight through into the mess of potholes and mud with their horns blaring. What a dump we thought. We found a crappy mosquito filled hotel which did at least have a nice manager and I collapsed under the mosquito netting. Robin set about straight away cleaning all the mud that had encased itself around the gears and we prayed that it would stop raining and the roads would improve. After getting dinner that night though I realised that something was wrong and fell asleep not
feeling very well. I had a bad night not helped by the constantly running generator and trucks blasting their horns just outside our window. In the morning we realised that I was too ill to cycle, Giardia parasite had hit again and I had the runs and a nasty bloated feeling, Robin felt ok but had no trouble sleeping and later that afternoon realised that he too was suffering giardia.
After a rest and a trip to the chemists we set off away from the terrible main road. We found a fantastic old Afghani ruler’s tomb set in a park in the middle of a lake. Unfortunately the foreigner price was going to be more than what we were spending on accommodation for the day so we just sat inside the park and enjoyed the trees and the beautiful setting. All around the fences of the park people stopped giggling and waving at us, I think hardly any tourists go to Bihar because of its reputation, but the people there were lovely and friendly and we enjoyed our little walk about town. Farms stretched right into the town and many animals wandered around. We managed to stop every cricket
game we passed and soon had a massive flowing of children all excitedly running behind us, but we were enjoying ourselves too. We decided to cook plain potatoes and eggs for ourselves that night and were again surprised by the cheapness of the food.
The next day we forced ourselves onto the bikes and set off on the long ride to Bodh Gaya, we figured it would be a lot nicer being sick there than in Sasaram. The cycle there was harder than it should have been because of our stomachs and tiredness and also there were quite a lot of road works but it was at least not raining. The bright sunshine and heat were fairly punishing, but at least the road was flat. Very flat. Bihar is like Holland in India, pancake flat and intensely green, and everywhere there is water between the fields, in the fields, on vacant plots of land right next to houses. No wonder there were so many mosquitoes.
We arrived late in Bodh Gaya after an 85 mile ride in our weakened states and it was dark before we finally managed to find Shanti Guest House. We had not been helped
in finding a hotel by the many touts who ran ahead of us trying to claim commission from the hotel for “bringing us to them” This was very annoying but more so was the refusal of at least 3 different hotels to let our bikes into the room. We have never left our bikes outside of a locked room in India and we were not about to start in Bihar.
We were laid up in Bodh Gaya for a week, we both had bad giardia and no energy to move around and no appetite for food either. Bodh Gaya would have just been another small rural village in Bihar had it not also been the site where The Buddha became enlightened sitting under a Bodhi tree. The village now hosts thousands of pilgrims and tourists each month, it had many different temples, hotels and restaurants from all the different cultures that Buddhism has reached all over the world. We really enjoyed visiting the different temples particularly those from Thailand, Tibet and Bhutan. The artwork was colourful had simple lines and gave lovely atmospheres inside these temples.
Most other western tourists we met seemed to be Buddhists themselves but
we ended up being too ill to spend much time finding out about Buddhism. We visited the famous Bodhi Tree and were able to touch it and feel the very powerful energy of the place. It was nice to sit quietly in the gardens around the main temple and watch what seemed to be a constant stream of people from all over Asia coming there in pilgrimage. There were Japanese, Koreans, Thais, Sri Lankans, Chinese, Nepalese, and Burmese.
The illness break meant that we were in Bodh Gaya for the festival of Holi. This is the Hindu festival of colour. We had been warned that things were going to get a little bit crazy, and that on no account should we be on the bikes during the festival. The main problem we had at that time was trying to figure out when the festival was, because the length of time given for the festivities seemed to vary from 2 days to a whole week. In fact for the days running up to Holi we saw many pink and green-faced children running around Also many guys were wearing their Holi clothes, which already had huge stains of dye on them
Mahabodhi Temple, Bodh Gaya
On the site where Gautama Siddhartha received supreme enlightenment and became Lord Buddha.from previous years it seems.
On the night of Holi everyone seemed to have fireworks and there were bonfires all over the village with fire dancers all around them. Over the next 2 days most businesses shut down and a fair bit of drinking was done, this is quite unusual in India where alcohol is frowned upon and Indian society shows its disdain for the drink by naming (or is that blaming) the booze shops “ English wine shop”! Unfortunately we were too ill to join the riverside puja (worship ceremony).
The next day we ventured out of the hotel with trepidation hoping not to be attacked too badly by people throwing paint. We had breakfast in the one cheaper restaurant that remained open through the holiday and afterwards decided to go for a walk to the giant Buddha statue. There the fun started and a group of excited youths yelling “Can I give you colour” didn’t wait for an answer before tipping a bottle of blue dye over me. I lost my sense of humour and wrestled the bottle from him, much to his delight. Then the spirit of the day entered me and I realised that
I would be a terrible sport not to just go with the flow and smile. We were rewarded with many smiles from locals all day for wearing colour like them. Mostly we were not involved with many fights that took place in the name of giving colour. Most locals politely asked to give us colour on our faces but the worse incident was from a group of Israeli tourists armed with pump action colour guns. My shirt is now permanently stained in big pink splashes and it took a lot of scrubbing over a few days to get the colours from our skin.
With the illness delay we finally made the decision to take a train to Calcutta (Kolkata). So it was with a little regret but also with some relief on my part that we booked our ticket on the Doon Express to Kalkota. I tried to console Robin that at least we had stopped cycling in a place beginning with B! -we have now done “Banchory to Bodh Gaya by Bike”.
On the day we had to leave to cycle the 15 km to Gaya station I was not feeling too well again, but determined to
Tree Hugging
Robin and the Bodhi Tree, a sapling of the original under which Buddha meditated. get the train we cycled very slowly through the rural countryside and arrived at the fairly hectic Gaya Station. We wheeled our bikes to the parcel office. We had been told all we needed to do was turn up one hour before the train and book in our luggage. We had 4 hours until the scheduled departure of our train, but 2 hours later we had just managed to get the staff to accept our bikes. The whole process was really quite stressful and we now realise that all the difficulties the staff were claiming were an elaborate attempt to get baksheesh for actually doing their job. It took us threatening to camp out for days in their parcel office until we actually saw our bikes getting on a train. We were definitely not going to get on a train without seeing that our bikes were also on there. A helpful local businessman asked Robin what we had been trying to do and replied to him by saying “just give them 50 rupees, this is India, everyone is beggar!”
We had a plan; we would be at the back of the train to supervise the loading of our bikes
and then just jump on the train wherever and walk down it to find our berths. The first sight of the train arriving (already 3 hours late) and the crowds of people surging towards it trying to get on soon made us realise it was not going to be that simple. There was no way anyone was going to be able to walk along inside the train. Our carriage was the first one behind the engine and the luggage was at the rear of the train, some 25 carriages back. Robin bravely loaded up his body with all 4 panniers and his large rucksack and began to waddle towards the front of the train. He would not actually get on until I had run to the front with news that the bikes were on too. In the end, despite all the luggage staff’s warning that there might not be room, the bikes were easily loaded and I began the mad dash weighed down by bags to the front of the train. I passed the unreserved seating carriage to see people wedged in place worse than sardines. Masses of humanity were bulging out of carriages at every opening. Thank God we
Bihar
Flat, green and apparently very backwards. had a reservation. A minute before the train pulled out I found Robin and we managed to jump aboard being careful not to trample the many people crammed in every available space all over the floor.
Our berths in the sleeper car were still vacant and carefully we managed to install ourselves in the cramped space. We watched another Indian couple go through their preparations for the night. They clearly had done this before and had come prepared with bedrolls and blow up pillows. The guy beside us managed to fit comfortably into his bunk even with two big bags wedged at his feet. When we tried to fit into our bunks the couple opposite could not help laughing at how big we were. They had managed to fit 2 people and a big bag onto one bunk. We had to crush ourselves in with one big backpack for a pillow and our feet stuck out into the aisle. Still once we were installed I managed to sleep reasonably well. Robin however was kept awake by the train’s horn, which was constantly blaring. In fact train drivers in India use their horns even more then the bus and truck
No Politics Please....
Perhaps wise advice in Bihar given its politcal problems. This is in Gaya station, and i couldnt help but be amused that they put this sign next to a picture of a fancy Japanese bullet train. Our "express" was already 3 hours late and would take 9 more to travel 450km! drivers. We travelled about 450 km in 9 hours, our train was 3 hours late, but finally we got to Kalkota and our bikes arrived with us without too much damage either. It only took about 1 hour of paperwork to get the luggage department to release our bikes.
We had thought that taking a train was the easy option. In the end the experience was stressful and not that fast either, but we were not sure that Robin’s bike would have been up to the 4 day ride without some new parts. Our stomachs were definitely not up to it, so the train was the right decision and we planned to spend a few days in Kolkata to recover form our illnesses fully and figure out what to do next.
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Tot: 0.226s; Tpl: 0.024s; cc: 32; qc: 103; dbt: 0.1143s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.6mb
Squirrel Simon
non-member comment
Catching Up
Hi Robin and Erika, Thanks to Kate W I've now found your blog again and I'm pleased to see you are still making progress - albeit with some difficulties. Hope you can find time to get back to full health and can enjoy so more great cycling. Keep writing your journals but don't leave such long gaps between them! All the best Simon (and Family)