Exhumed corpse

We have shifted sides from Darjeeling and the North East and are now in the Western Himalaya in the former British Hill Station of Nani Tal a pleasant escape from the searing summer heat 40c plus temperatures on the plains and at this stage appears to have endless trails to have a go at.
A local guide pamphlet describes Nani Tal as a place with “A number of good eating houses and no prohibition but creating a nuisance in public is discouraged by police” bars close here at a ludicrous 8.p.m so you have to get the beers down early if you want to create a fracas, looking at the local taxi drivers staggering around trying to find their vehicles at closing time this seems to be the case.
Our research team has now expanded and has the feel of an ill-fated expedition party. In present company we have myself, the surly contrarian Nepali Rakesh who now takes issue with every utterance I make even the early morning casual remark “good morning’ is debated. Mike “70 pint a week” from Sheffield who is coping admirably well with the early bar closures; and Mr S a tragic-comedy figure from Manchester who at times has the look of a chain smoking exhumed corpse. He appears to be coping less than well with early bar closures, Indian food, Indian style room service and dehydration. We had to pick him up off the streets of Delhi a few days ago as he collapsed after lighting up a cigarette in the 40C heat after a heavy nights drinking before, tried to force some fizzy pop mixed with salt down his neck to revive him, which is decidedly difficult when you have a Nepali arguing over which brand of Cola revives people best.
All went well on the Darjeeling section with all routes lined up and ready to go this October the riding is the best I have ever done anywhere so far with some massive descents which go on for more than 20km of singletrack at times absolutely brilliant. Exhausting work at times, I have been up on the ridge before its still tough cycling at 3600 meters. On a few occasions I had to descend from 3500 m down to 2000 m , drop the bike and then hike back up again to the ridge to check out the routes in reverse and for other starting points for the descents, well worth it though and I must have done more than 8500 meters of climbing by bike and by foot in a week.

Ludicrous Scenes

Khatmandu. At last I have managed to secure another Indian visa, which is in itself an event. The Indian embassy staff have a reputation for surliness but given the ludicrous scenes that play out inside and outside the embassy gates it is quite understandable. The closest way to describe it would be like lining up outside Headingley for a Saturday test match complete with innumerable exhibitionists in fancy dress but with everyone taking it seriously. This week featured a red Indian, a man in a mask, people dressed as Hari Krishna’s; probably Hari Krishna’s; men and women topped in ludicrous hats and innumerable professional traveler types strutting round like peacocks in their multi coloured garb. Cricket balls are replaced with juggling balls and cans of ale for bongs and spliffs; (probably both at Headingley]; half an hour of this could be entertaining but there is a limit to the number of times you can be struck by an errant juggling ball before being seized by the urge to kick it onto the nearest roof.

Elections are coming to soon to Nepal which is marked by the previously insurgent Maoists joining the political mainstream and participating in the elections, despite having innumerable weapons and armed cadres they have proclaimed their commitment to democracy and vowed to honour the result whatever the outcome. However all groups are viewing the elections and build up as a means to securing their own objectives and myriad different groups have appeared all equally militant, ready to strike, block roads or march on political opponents with sticks and beat a few people to death.

I have now left Nepal and returned to Darjeeling just before the elections start. With the only way out by air or along the vulnerable, frequently blocked Terrai road that runs along the border with India. (Our bus was stopped by three hours until a police escort arrived to prevent us from coming under attack). I am happy to be back in India and ready to get back on the bike tomorrow and head back to the Singalila ridge under the shadow of the worlds third highest mountain Kanchenjunga. Yaks freezing temperatures and a two day climb to start thing off are all promised.