Jillmon

Morning all. I am in the middle of a tour at present and all is going excellent. I have managed to extricate myself from a morning wildlife park boat trip which I have done about ten times and handed over the thankless task too a slightly grumpy looking Rakesh who had to awake at 5.30 a.m this morning to fulfill his duty. Jillmon the driver cum logistics manager has gone as well and woke us all up at 4.15 a.m as his mobile his faulty. Jillmon, who has a look a paunchy Oliver Reed is reveling in his role as logistics manager and has upgraded himself from the rooms designated to drivers to stay in the same room as me and Rakesh. So its three in tiny room most nights, Jillmon snores at an admirable 9.5 on the snoromical scale while Rakesh refuses to sleep without the fan whirling around full blast, both usually head off to beds before. So I am having to become accustomed to stepping into the nightly pitch black, snoring whirlind that has become my sleep. Managed to turn the fan off one night but this had the effect of Jillmons snoring waking up an angry Rakesh who entombed in sleeping bags and blankets fumed that I was trying to kill him by making him too hot.

Too Busy

Hello all.

Life travelling with ones parents is a busy one so really late getting this one posted up.

Back in Munnar now making final preparations for the next tour starting Jan 4th which should be cracking. Mother and father seem to be loving it, short slow walk followed by tea slurping, followed by another short walk, tea slurping afternoon kip and then time for evening ales and slap up curry binge and that’s just me, mother and father skip the walking bit.
The exhausting bit was the real travelling when we where also accompanied by the redoubtable Mrs Jones. Managed to cram in a lot of temple complexes, ancient civilisation sites and bus ride upon bus ride and train journey upon train journey with time left to squeeze in a few days of the India England test match in Chennai. Limited accommodation options forced my mother and father into a room with a squat toilet which saw us depart earlier than expected and forced us to miss the last days incredible scenes.
Rakesh the Nepali guide is also here busying himself by winding me up about any English sporting catastrophe or indeed anything at all that he can find that will infuriate me , he seems to be at his happiest in this role. Will be lucky to get a Christmas present at this rate even if he got one he would claim I paid too much for it and he could get the same item at 2% of the price in Nepal where items are of course of far better quality. Food is less of an issue now and 2 weeks spent on his own in Kerala has revolutionized his eating habits, dosa’s iddlys and iddiapams are squelched between his fingers with relish now. The problem before he now claims was that I took him to all the worse restaurants in town.
Christmas should be good I have a few big rides planned tomorrow and Christmas eve then its ho ho ho and a bottle of arrack at Johns Cottage with some good old fashioned Turkeyless fun.
The picture shows me entertaining the folks in kuttikanam in my favourite Santa Claus outfit. Look good don,t I ???
Hope yours is good.

Flowery T%$#@

Kuttikanam, Kerala, South India..

Its raining monsoon like rains on the red tiled rooftops. Unexpected and unwelcome but there is loads to do if I can not ride tomorrow. For starters it looks like I am breaking from my long time love affair with the Woodpalace hotel and moving on to the newer glitzier upstart hotel next door. An agitation started last year by the deposed owner to move me on and out appears to have finally payed dividends and so its goodbye to ordering black coffees and receiving milk tea instead no “not possible” “ “keralan marital arts displays”” (martial arts) and sadly no more nocturnal walking catfish. I hope “Misty Mountain Luxury Plantation Resorts” has got something to offer except nice rooms and good coffee.

Last word on televisions. The T.V in my room has not worked properly since I came back, every 5 minutes exactly, it switches itself off on to stand by, no real disaster just means you have to keep the remote handy to to keep the T.V on. Tonight big match Bolton V Liverpool so request for new T.V to prevent any missing action. New improved T.V arrives seems o.k except that the volume is fixed at massive decibels and can not be altered seems preferable to the other faulty one. 6 minutes into the match and it switches itself off onto standby. I persevere with the T.V till the 12th minute when it happens again, become annoyed. 18 minutes same again. Furious…..Roll on Musty Mountains

Anyhow not said much about the last month which was spent in and around Darjeeling. All photos in the blog for the next few weeks will bare no relevance to the text but will attempt make up for a bit of lost ground in pictoral form.

Rakesh (the Nepalli guide) has come back new and improved and has performed sterling work all the last month, will he overcome his personal demons and manage to go a week without complaining about South Indian food? Will my Marzocchi Junior T’s get through Bombay customs in Mrs Jones’s rucksack. Will Misery Fountains be a crock of shite? {Apologies to Fawlty Towers].

A prize offered to anyone but Seb who can remember the most ridiculous and possibly rude Fawlty Towers semi anagram that they showed on the outside of the building at the start of each episode.

Appalling Oversight

In another appalling oversight I have failed to bring my text along with to the internet cafe and have nothing to offer but photographs.

The photos should give you a rough idea on what life was like on the Darjeeling tour. If you can recognise the ludicrous looking animal then you can avail a free pint off me when I return to England No answer sharing allowed. If you can identify the shambolic gurning figure who appears to have fallen off his bike then you can buy me a pint. The other pic shows probably the first ever Orange bike on the back of a horse/pony/ass ever and in the pic the bike is about to unloaded and delivered back to its owner.

Anyhow will be back soon with the real text soon.

Not Much

A technical glitch. I have arrived at tinterweb with me photos but failed to attach all me text to the memory stick so I am in effect wordless but as I am here I might as well attach all my photo's and come back with the real entry tommorrow.

Shoeless

I have returned to Kerala battered, bruised, occasionally shoeless and mentally scarred from a torrid 3000 km 72 hour journey.
Nobody said travel in India was easy. Travelling encumbered with a mountain bike and enough gear to weigh down a team of porters on a Nandi Devi expedition is foolhardy. Managed to accomplish the 1st stage to Delhi with me cousin Scott without too much fuss with only a few scars from the straps of an overweighted bike bag ripping the skin of my shoulders and making me look like an advocate of flagelation which I am in a sense.

After an overnight in Delhi and the departure of me cousin Scott is was time to be reunited with the rest of my long term luggage and attempt to make the journey to New Delhi Railway Station where I planned to avail the assistance of a porter to carry the lorry load of luggage (probably 70 kg) to the remotest outpost of platformdom the dreaded Platform 16. Tears, sweat measured in buckets, enough curses to make a Tamil blush and gurns that frightened away the most pernicious of beggars accompanied me on the torturous 800 meter journey, agony upon agony, misery upon misery and a complete absence of any porters made the trip the hardest thing I have ever done in my life… serious…
Boarded the train with appalling injuries a stiff back, a twisted side and bruises on me biceps that looked like I had run out of places to inject myself made for a pityful sight for the rest of passengers who seized upon my apparent weakness by claiming all the plum window seats.
The last 48 hours on the train was quite relaxing with the only incident to report was the stealing and returning of my flip flops; taken by a big fat man on the top berth opposite. Twice, after dropping down from my top bunk to head out on the platform at stops; I was shocked to find my footwear missing with the rest of the passengers pointing me in the direction of the fat man as the culprit “He has gone to take his toilet” A disturbing image indeed of a fat man squatting down for a crap with my flip flops on. He returned, I feigned annoyance, apologies where made, episode forgotten. So I thought, on the second occasion, my flip flops disappeared for 30 minutes before returning on the cracked feet of the fat man. Sorry he said “mobile charging”. As if it wasn’t taking the shoes that was the problem but the fact that his mobile needed charging. This time I made a bit of a stance and tried to bring in other passengers on to my side to shame the man from further offences. Offers to use other peoples flip flops if need be in the future reigned in. Ridiculous.

Deary Me

A warm welcome back to all readers. Its taken me ages to get organised and I have been back in India almost a month. In Darjeeling at present and just completed the inaugrial tour of the Singalalli ridge. Views and riding were incredible as were the super strong beers slurped down in abundance at high altitude to keep HAPE and HACE at bay. Will be coming back soon with some cracking pictures.