Human League

Time is up in Nepal and despite feeling pretty ill decide to risk it and get the overnight bus back to the Indian border. Stumach holds up well but feel weak as a kitten and semi delirious; which is my usual bus state; as we head back to the border. Things are delayed though as reports of ambushes by the "Terrai League"; splinter group of the more militant, "Human Terrai League" in the forests ahead reach the driver. Repeat loud playing of "I,m only human " seemed to keep the protesters at bay; this; as well as the being escorted in convoy by hundreds of heavily armed troops in military vehicles.
Midday Friday I am back in India and decide a day in bed should clear the delirium.

Rushdie Outraged

One of the best bits things about Pokhara has to be my initially surly looking French friend turned Corsican genius- Tangy. Spent a few afternoons at his Commencal ( French M.T.B manufacturer) sponsored bike hut. Had a handful of rides around Pokhara; some cracking trails and non of the traffic hopping that mars reaching the trails in Katmandu. Tangy is well on his way to having some of the best M.T.B er,s in Asia as he runs a school for kids from 7 up who seem more than happy on both wheels, back wheels or sometimes hopping around on front wheels pulling stunts on the street. Amazing stuff.
Nightimes in Pokhara are the biggest problem with a myriad of near empty bars and restaurants churning out the same stuff. Managed a few ales here and there but my big night out watching the football in the decent company of a student of Shakespeare was destroyed by an outrageous attack on my favourite (and only read author) Salman Rushdie with the preposterous expostulation that Rushdie had robbed all his ideas of Gunther Grass. Can anyone help me on this one ???

Births, hailstones and mad cows.

All things pretty tame in Pokhara. Beautiful setting alongside a lake with cracking views of the Annapurna range of mountains take a day to settle in and embark upon my first ride out.

Head up to Sagarkot for a short blap out about 800 metre height gain on tarmac road to a small settlement perched high above the lake. Follow past village for a few Km to sight a track to descend back to lake to discover a heavily pregnant Nepali lady lied flat out on the side of the track shaded by an umbrella held by another women. The umbrella lady called out for me to get a taxi so I bombed back down the track to the village to try to avail one. Village shopkeeper said he would phone for taxi but seemed unwilling to ring for one unless I would promise to pay the fare which obviously I had to accept. Wait around for about 30 minutes in gathering clouds waiting for the taxi before news comes in the form of a motorbike rider that the lady has given birth on the side of the track. Unsure if the taxi is still required I sprint back up the 2 k climb to find the lady wandering back up the hill clutching the child with the umbrella women and a man for company. The man; on sighting me called out "Sorry Taxi cancel" as if he had decided to stay in the pub for an extra pint. Returned back down to the village, paid the bemused Taxi driver his fare before heading down the closest trail I could find that would lead be out of the gathering strom.
Hail stones the size of Yaks bolloxs ping of my widened eyeballs as I descend a super tricky trail full of greasy steps and rocks back down to the lake. Lightening and thunder ensue which cause havoc amongst the local buffalo and cow population causing a charge with one particular cow eying me up as the cause of the noise and deciding to trample me to death. Abandon bike mid trail and cower trembling behind a giant tree whilst the cow repeatedly rushes at the tree with its horns down, stamping and mooing in a terrifying manner. Thankfully rescued by a shepherd who shoos the beast away.

The Controversy Continues to Mar Mountain Bike Meet

For those following the appalling scenes at the previously mentioned Indian mountain bike National Championships this response has been posted up.

Dear

The story was biased, there were many irregularities and misconduct during the championships. Mr Dhaliwal was not present at that moment when the incident took place. Mr. Grewal openly indulged in unfair practices and manipulating the timings. Lately even the chief referee also left the championship midway due to grewal interference. The MTB circuit is not according to UCI rules and have 80% mottled road and there was no traffic control either. Till date the boys trained in Chandigarh whether taking part from other states are winning the MTB events. How Chandigarh manager can help his riders if they are taking part from Chandigarh.if Grewal is fair enough, why there is lot protests in all the recently held National Championships.

Escape From Khatmandu

Picked up the Indian visa and head Kathmandu's favourite watering hole Tom and Jerry's to make plans for my escape . Miserable fare and appear to be short of company. Polish off my third pint and decide to leave until company arrives in the shortest of forms with a Manchester based Nepali gay dwarf who works at Next and professes to be a big hit with the ladies; buys me a pint before a brief chit chat about Manchester before scuttling off into the night.

Tuborg and Orangeboom

Day four now in Nepal. Headed straight to Khatmandu from the Indian border a promised 12 hour bus ride took 19 in a bus full of violently unpredictable reclining seats which reclined or folded at random like human mouse traps crushing the arms, legs and heads of the uncomplaining pasengers who seemed quite used to it.
Khatmandu- Hole up in Khatmandu's Thamel area super touristy and unrecognisable from previous visits. My legendary sense of direction which serves me so well in India appears to have failed to penetrate the Katmnadu valley and spend the next four days wandering around the maze of streets in a state of confusement.
Regain my bearings in the evening time on a diet of Momos and slurping Nepal's favourite beers those long since forgotten master brewers Tuborg and Orangeboom which can be bought in any shop including the barbers. In other ways they are way ahead of the times here and spend a pleasant Nepali New Year celebration in French, Australian, Canadian and Israeli company bringing in the Nepali year of 2064!
Mountain biking in Khatmandu seems quite advanced as well relative to India with a few shops renting out decent imported bikes, there are M.T.B maps, a competition on the 29th April; which I will skip as its 100 US$; and a few foreigners winding their way through the streets on impressive looking bikes. Join up with two French lads one a M.T.B guide from Pokhara( 300k away) and another a French teacher. Have a few rides out with them, some superb and very technical trails in the hills surrounding Khatmandu and the lads prove to be fitter, faster and Frencher than me in that initially surly way they have.

Murk in Mirik

Recovery day in Darjeeling before bus to Mirik which promises some superb mountain biking with loads of trails pouring down the hillside to the plains of Bengal 2000 metres below. No visibility at all for two days makes Mirik a miserable murky place and impossible for trail finding so console myself with a 10k run around the lake and a 10k road climb.
Decide to abandon on the third day and head to Nepal early to pick up a new Indian Visa and have a look at the mountan biking there with the hope that the weather will clear when I return.

Pumped up.

Day 2 Saw more fog and more climbing as a mix of cycling, pushing and heavy breathing got me through to my night halt at Sandakpur 3700 metres up freezing cold and windy. Highlight of the day was the approach by Indian border security forces and questioning on whether I had bike pump or not, unsure as why this was relevant I handed over the pump much to their delight. Deflated volleyballs and football's were brought forward and the 1st pump to reach Sandakpur for years was put to good use. Leaving the army post a happy place full of ball bouncing soldiers.
Most of the afternoon and the night was spent in the kitchen of the hut I was staying at, huddled up next to the family over a metal container of hot coals slurping beers and eating rice mixed up with rancid Yak's milk and unidentifiable meat.
Day 3 Miss the days only sighting of Kanchenjunga whilst pumping up more balls for the local kids. Weather has cleared somewhat and the day promised a 20 km ridge ride before a 1800 metre descent down to the river at Shri Khola.
Some of the best riding I have ever done took me along singletrack and rocky trails on undulating terrain through an amazing landscape littered with dead trees . Wandering Yaks and the odd bemused Sherpa carrying bundles of stuff to who knows where provided the only company. Descent proves incredible, windey hard packed trail with a few wooden steps and ramps running over the small rivers. Takes about 90 minutes to get down the increasingly tricky track to the Shri Khola lodge.
Day 4 Bag of shite compared to previous days, many more trekkers on the trail which widens and widens until it becomes a dirt road. Routs taking me back to Darjeeling listed as trekking routes turn out to be roads so abandon after 60 km and jeep back up to Darjeeling for a another night in Joeys pub with the Charlie Chan look alike landlord.

Controversy mars mountain bike meet

Have a look at this.


Controversy mars mountain bike meet Ravi Dhaliwal
Patiala, October 18The 5th Hercules MTB National Mountain Bike Championship was marred by controversy with the organisers filing a written complaint with the local police against one of the affiliated units of the Cycling Federation of India (CFI) .
In their complaint filed with the Anandpur Sahib police station, the organisers have alleged that the manager of the Chandigarh Cycling Association (CCA), an affiliate of the CFI, provoked some parents of competitors to hurl abuses at them and the federation secretary Mr J.S. Grewal when the events were being conducted in the morning.
The manager, Mr Rakesh Mohindru, could be seen openly provoking parents to indulge in hooliganism which proved to be an impediment in the smooth success of the events on the concluding day today.
Mr Rajeev Kakkar, father of a participant Rohan Kakkar who stood second in one lap point to point cross country time trial event (u-16), went to Mr Grewal and started to shower the choicest Punjabi expletives on him.
He was being egged on by Mr Mohindru whose intention, it seemed, was to stop the day’s proceedings.
An enraged Mr Grewal then asked the officials to submit a written complaint to the police. However, even as the police were dilly-dallying on whether to register a FIR on basis of the complaint, a compromise was reached.
This unsavoury incident left a bad taste in the mouths of the spectators, organisers and the parents. Mr Grewal later said that he would seek the disaffiliation of the CCA from the CFI at the next general house meeting of the federation.
If this was not enough yet another unsavoury incident occurred when a Chandigarh cyclist, who apparently fell while negotiating a sharp bend near the starting line, claimed that he was pulled down by a Punjab rider. Officials accompanying the Punjab contingent alleged that a Chandigarh rider Karan Claire had deliberately positioned himself on the course and was trying to trip Punjab cyclists.
The organisers got hold of him and he was promptly handed over to the local police on the directions of the secretary of the CFI.
However, the Chandigarh squad were quick to wash their hands off the incident by claiming that Karan Claire had already been disqualified by their manager, Mr Ravinder Singh.
Meanwhile, Jagdeep Singh of Punjab gave a good performance to be placed first in the time trial cross country event for boys (u-16). He was given a tough fight by Chandigarh’s Rohan Kakkar and the champ was separated from the challenger once after he drove with tremendous conviction in the home stretch.
Results: 1 lap time trial cross country (girls, u-16): Arshi (Haryana)-1, Mahita Mohan (Kerala)- 2, Radhika Bisht (Chandigarh)-3. (Boys): Jagdeep Singh (Punjab)-1, Rohan Kakkar (Chandigarh)-2, Rahul Anand (Chandigarh)-3. 4 lap mass start , girls, u-16: Mahantesh Kaparati (Karnataka)-1, Kamal Preet Sharma (Punjab)-2, Mahesh Mane (Maharashtra)-3.
Team championship: men: Chandigarh; women: Punjab.

Yaks, tracks and the worlds best descent.

4 days in the wilderness at 3700 metre plus amongst Yaks, monks, Nepali porters and fog as thick as a Tibetan blanket all on my mountain bike pioneering trails that surely many will follow.
Started from Darjeeling 40 k on road to the police border check post at Manibhanganj, the trail switches between Nepal and India so there are loads of military checks up here. 12 km steep climb up takes me from 2000 metres to 3000 metres on a broken cobbled path which makes cycling very tricky manage about 70% of it. Make it to the trekking hut in the tiny Nepali settlement of Tumling and retire to the kitchen and dining area. Place over run by frenzied young Bengali student on a 3 day trek dressed only in flip flop and track suits; expect some casualties soon; strangely the teachers are rigged out in high end trekking gear, poles, gloves and the works and seem very pleased with themselves as the kids run around the dining hall to avoid hypothermia.
I am requested to sit in the kitchen to keep warm and avoid the kids and manage to sit for about 5 hours on a stool where as I am fed uncomplainingly by members of the Nepali family who run the place. Only the antediluvian Grandma fails to get in on the feeding frenzy; she appears settled perched almost on top of the hearth next to a large fat cat occasionally yelling out what appear to be obscenities which every one ignores accept the cat which spikes up its ears at every outburst.

More Darjeeling Days

Few more days here yet before attempt the Sandakpur 4 day Trek on my mountain bike. Highlights include witnessing a a Bengali man rugby tackle a tiny Nepalese boy in the fruit and veg bazaar with the Bengali man coming off worse. Tough little things these Nepali's. Turned out the kid had nicked a packet of sweets from his stall. Thieving little swines these Nepali's.
Super shave in the afternoon followed by head massage which involved much head slapping and twiddling of the eye brows. Big Trek tomorrow so will stay out of the bars; do not trust myself not to be sat at the bar till the early hours full of ale watching the cricket world cup.

Darjeeling Days

Hiking the bike and bag full of bike spares up to the hotel 200 metres above on Darjeeling ridge was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Super steep road full of giggling kids on their way to school laughing away at the plight of the self tortured tourist; I could have rented out a porter.
Refuse to do anything else all day apart from embarking on a short walk and retiring to a bar in the evening with a few pleasantish other tourists. 6 pints and a karaoke interspersed by a scuffle over the mike between two Nepali's an Elvis singer and an angry young man who wanted to sing Cliff Richard.
Fix up the bike on the second day and have a short ride out super steep road descents followed by even steeper climbs back up. Abandon and decide to go for a trek tomorrow. Evening meals in ill ventilated tiny Tibetan place, become overwhelmed by the kerosene fumes produced from the cooking and almost collapse into my beef momos and vegetable thukpa.
Day three sees me out earlyish in misty conditions on the trek some super section of tracks that would be cracking on the bike but would have to carry about 50% so become dispirited. Stumble down the tracks into a cricket match being played out on a 5 yard wide track carved out of the mountainside. Locals produce 30 balls for each match made out of stones wrapped around with cloth and rubber bands. Reckon they have not got enough as ball after ball disappears down the mountain to be chased after by tiny kids whose job it is try to retrieve them. Return to Darjeeling 1/2 mile back up in the sky up super steep steps.

Trains

I am back. 52 hours and 3500 km on a train from the lush tropical palm fringed port of Cochin to the industrial West Bengal town of Siliguri; 500 km North of Calcutta; the gateway to the North East Indian Himalaya and the hill stations of Gantok and Darjeeling.A 2nd class sleeper ticket got me 2 full nights on the train in the company of a family of 4 from Manipur a tiny hill state on the Burmese border. The Manipurese had made the same mammoth journey in reverse only the day before to collect their children from school and return them home for the 3 month summer holiday. The kids had been placed in a private school in Kerala to take them away from the culture of insurgency that inculcates the minds of the youths in Manipur and the low level battle for independence from the Indian Union. Most of this was explained to me the jovial rotund father in an afternoon of discussion in which he laid out languorously on the bottom berth with his feet up and his head plumped on my knee looking up at my startled face for signs of intelligence.The journey on the whole was pleasant as the train rattled along at a sedate 60 kmh with hot humid air blowing through the barred windows, stopping every couple of hours giving time to pop out and patrol the platforms in search of food.Previous experience in India had taught me to be well planned for these epic journeys and I had armed myself with new soap to battle the filth and grime, a wallet full of small rupee notes to purchase food and a plastic bag full of books to keep me entertained. The books and soap lasted the trip but the wallet along with me rupees, train ticket and luggage booking receipt for the cycle booked into the separate luggage compartment failed to survive the journey a victim of the squat toilets.The wallet had been placed on the toilet window ledge to avoid it suffering a grim death and falling out of my pocket down on to the track below along with the contents of my stomach. In the battle to stay upright in the violently swaying carriage it was tragically overlooked and never seen again. On arrival in Siliguri 30 hours later this was to cause me a few problems and create my first encounter with those fine custodians of the law the Indian Police.At Siliguri a massive struggle ensued as 5 men attempted to extricate my cycle; the only consignment to be dropped off at Siliguri; out of the overstuffed luggage van. The men worked at a frenzied pace to liberate the cycle hurling boxes onto the track much to the annoyance of the trains guard who had to delay the train " Look very difficult ". The cycle was eventually handed down to me on the track whilst a few boxes were hastily stuffed back into the compartment before the train whistled and rolled off into the night.Getting the bike out of the station was problematic with no tickets I couldn't prove the bike was mine, men gathered round in a feverish state as I explained the loss of the wallet and ticket. Puzzled looks abounded until the luggage officer reckoned that a complaint with the police should be lodged which would then procure the sufficient amount of paperwork that all Indians require to make things run smoothly and hopefully enable for the release of my cycle.The gun slinger eyed Police Commander appeared unimpressed with my plight and the hastily written statement that I had put together accounting for the loss of the ticket. Another man was summoned from the back room a man who it seemed was well versed in extracting or changing statements to suit police needs. Alterations were demanded, no loss of rupees to be mentioned, times and dates changed to ensure that the "crime" occurred in a different police division, a photograph was demanded to be attached to the police's copy of the statement, a photo I hoped would not be added to the the rogues gallery hung up outside displaying a host of grim faced criminals who had transgressed the law on railway property. New statements were signed, more forms filled in and apologies made for wasting police time before I and the cycle were released from police and railway custody three hours later into the the scrummage that always greets the traveller at whatever time he arrives outside an Indian railway station. A jeep was hailed in the melee and I along with 5 pot bellied chain smoking Calcuttans; incongruously heading out on a 5 day trek from Darjeeling; squeezed our selves into the jeep with luggage and bike placed on top. The vehicle revved up completed a full lap of the station car park and returned back to the entrance before the driver disappeared for ten minutes returning with more pot bellied chain smoking Calcuttans who sat on top of us and satisfied the driver that the vehicle was full. To Darjeeling we went.