Sunday, December 5, 2010

Bare Footing

Pondicherry is synonymous with beer. Had a few last night after meeting a fellow cyclist from the U.K called Gerry who had cycled overland from the UK, somewhat dwarfing my 370km cycling re-recce trip from Madurai. We pedalled the last 40km to Pondicherry in atrocious conditions, rains had swamped the roads with paddy fields turning into one vast lake. Cows, goats and herders had taken to the roads in their masses heading for dry land. We pedaled on, not sure what was road or what was swamp, with thoughts in mind of yesterdays T.V footage of a crocodile in a ditch being poked with a stick by bemused looking farmers.

Today looks difficult. I have hotels to check in Pondicherry then its 100km to Mahhaballapuram for more hotel checks but this times the bike will go on the bus. I plan to leave the bike in a hotel in Mahab in readiness for the 1000 km coast to coast ride in January. In the evening I plan to take the overnight train back from Madras to Kerala to get back for the final route checks for the mountain bike tours.

The bus stand and buses look quite enough but nobody will let me take the bike on the bus so I seek out an important looking man barking out orders over the public address system. A willing bus driver and conductor are found but the bike still has to go on top which makes it awkward as there is no bus stand where I wish to get off, rather passengers just fling themselves off the speeding bus whilst others leap on hoping to grab hold of something secure. Either way I have to get the bike there 1st so I clamber on the roof of the bus loosing my flip flops in the process. I lash the bike to the rack with inner tubes and climb back down the steps. My flip flops have gone. Some bare footed Tamil has scampered off with them. I remonstrate with the conductor who watched the scene and presumably the flip flops disappear but he just shrugs. I flap about a bit and board the bus muttering. I have the bike shoes in the bag so I can use them. It starts to rain, heavy.

100 km on the bus stops for the 1st time on the journey. Passengers start murmuring. This has never happened before. The conductor rings his bell and I assume this is it. I clamber out bare footed into the rain dragging my wheels, bag and bits of debris down from the bus into a puddle on the road. I launch myself up on the roof of the bus, it could go any second, I shoulder the bike down the steps. The rain lashes down the bus roars off. I stand on the road drenched, with belongings in a pile. Sodden goats, escapee's from the floods eye my bag curiously hoping for a nibble. A man sloshes through the waters towards me and with what must be the campest voice in all of India " Hiiieee come and join me under my umbrella."

I am in Mahabballapuram with new flip flops I am wet, tired, out of sorts and look shambolic. Trying to present myslelf at 3* hotels (yes,ohh yes this is a posh tour) as a tour operator on the up will take some convincing to both myself and the hotels.