Kullu Trip, Part Two: Delhi to Kullu and Manali

Before I left for each section of my trip I studied various maps so that I would not have to stop to look at them on route. Getting from Mike’s in Delhi to highway number1, heading North was relatively easy, with only one minor wrong turn. But the highway itself was a mess. You would travel a few kilometres on modern 4 lane highways only to come to and abrupt end leading to one-lane dirt roads jam packed with all the traffic trying to squeeze together at once and dust everywhere. Motorcycles usually took to the very left side and often went off not just on the shoulder, if there was one, but off to fields and parking lots and through any opening a bike could fit. There I was, dirt biking with my heavily packed camel. Then after a few kilometres of this, things changed back to a good road. This went on many times for the whole trip to Chandigarh.

I wanted to stop in Chandigarh for the night as it would get dark long before I could get to Kullu. The maze through/around Chandigarh, and it was a maze, caused me to stop frequently to ask for directions which left me on the other side of town. This is where I eventually wanted to go, but I was then past all the possible hotels or guest houses I could possibly stay at. So I went on hoping to find some place to stay, even if it was a cozy field. As luck would have it, a roadside hotel appeared in the middle of nowhere (literally) and I stopped to find that it was clean and cheap, only 400 rupees ( about $8 CDN) for the night, and they had a veg and non-veg restaurant. It was also the holiday Divali, a night of celebration using as many fireworks as you could afford, and the staff at the hotel were into it. I spent many hours with them watching them light flares and rockets and noise makers of all types. I also made sure to move my bike well out of the way from where they were ‘playing’ with fire.

The next morning was bright and crisp and I got up early to set off after a quick breakfast. This for me was really the beginning of the trip I had imagined. For it was from here that I left the flats of the plains and valleys and headed up into the foothills of the Himalayas. I started to get excited about the changing road conditions to being narrow, twisty, rising steeply with spectacular scenery.

See http://picasaweb.google.ca/lh/sredir?uname=takefman&target=ALBUM&id=5401657524798382017&authkey=Gv1sRgCPnc_bePuuDo5wE&feat=email

I stopped often to take pictures because you really couldn’t watch the road and look at the scenery at the same time, unless that is you wanted to become a part of the scenery. The temperatures were changing too. In the sunlight it was hot, but at the instant I drove into a shadow it was cold. I stopped to put on a vest. The rest of the journey to Kullu then was just one big smile. Except for a very very long tunnel (the Aut Tunnel) through the center of a mountain, I think it must have been over 3-4 kilometres long, dark and dangerous, the trip was wonderful.

When I arrived in Kullu I did not notice as I passed the hotel where I was to stay (The Vishali) and went through and past the center of town. So I stopped to call Heidi to ask for directions and didn’t look to see where I put my foot down and I stepped into one of the side sewer trenches and lost my balance, falling with the bike onto the road. My camera jumped off my neck (I carried it on me to take pics) and I managed not to get caught under the bike. In a matter of nano-seconds there was a huge crowd around me. I got up, dusted myself off and went over to the bike. I couldn’t lift it. Even without all my luggage on it, it was too heavy for me, so I signalled to two young guys who are watching me to come over and help lift, which they did. I gave the bike a quick check over, it was ok, I was ok, my camera was ok and so I quickly got out of being center attention.

I did find the hotel and settled in for three days. I later met up Heidi and Steve, who came over and we went off to an Italian restaurant nearby. Not something I had expected and it was very good. Kullu is very touristy, with lots of westerners and lots of Royal Enfield’s and repair shops. I felt safe.

On my second day there Steve and I did a short climb up the mountain that Kullu rests on and later I got him to agree to get on the back of the bike for a drive up to Manali. So the next day we borrowed a helmet from the owner of the Italian restaurant and off we went. There are two roads to Manali. One on each side of the river. We took the smaller east side road, which has more flavour and less traffic. Manali is only about 50 or less kilometres from Kullu but we took our time and got there in time for some momo’s for lunch (a momo is a dumpling, steamed or fried). If I thought Kullu was touristy, then I have to come up with a new word for more-touristy for Manali which has a large selection of 4 star hotels. Tourists go there for helicopter skiing, hang gliding, mountain trekking and the hot springs. It’s a small town but packed with people and stores and lots of restaurants. We had decided not to spend time in Manali but instead drove a little more to get to the hot springs at Vishisht, just 3 kilometres north. My pictures of the springs for some reason didn’t come out as well as I hoped but you can get a pretty good flavour of what they are like at this YouTube site: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VScPnD7uX18

We planned a short day because the sunrise and sunset in the mountains is two hours shorter at both ends of the day and as I don’t like to drive at night we took our hot dip in the springs and then took a leisurely trip back to Kullu. I did the trip again the very next day to get more pictures, which I couldn’t do while Steve was on the back of the bike. On that trip I stopped at a German coffee house and chatted with, believe it or not, two Germans, while sipping on some brewed coffee and relishing a real chocolate croissant. On my last day in Kullu I went to Heidi and Steve’s farewell party, which was arranged by the people from her ashram, so I got to meet a lot of those very nice folks.

Then off I went the next morning to find the road to the pass leading out of the Kullu Valley and crossing the mountains to Mandi. I was told the road, that started in the small town of Bajaura, would be difficult to find as it looks like a laneway, but I found it with help and headed up the pass. About 4 kilometres up my throttle cable broke and I was left with a loose cable in my hand. But I glided back down to the town at the bottom of the road and was able to ride to a Bullet Bike shop by pulling on the cable for acceleration. Of course this meant that if I had to stop suddenly I didn’t have my hand on the break handle. An hour after the cable broke and less than 100 rupees later, I was back on the road going up the pass again. This pass had smaller roads, steeper cliffs, more breathtaking scenery and lots of turnoffs so I stopped often to ask directions. This turned out not to be a language problem issue as most people in the region had basic English. Go to Google Maps and get directions for Kullu, HP to Mandi, HP and you will see the route taken.

The drive to Dharmshala, along a long wide valley with the beautiful mountains always on my right and getting highlighted by the setting sun as I drove north west. I found another inexpensive hotel just before Dharmshala for the night. It too had a food service but only for veg meals, which was still welcome. Coming next: McCleod ganj, the Dalai Lama and me.

"Vegetarian - that's an old native word meaning 'lousy hunter.'"

Kullu Trip, Part One: The Road to Delhi.

7:45 am. I had waited outside my house in the dark, doors and gate locked for 15 minutes for a supposed group of staff who said they’d be there to see me off on my trip. They didn’t come, I left at 6am, as per my schedule.  I was eager to get onto the road.  Ten minutes later I was outside of Barmer City on an empty road (a rare thing in India) heading East, driving at a respectable speed of 60kph through the desert air.  And it was cold. I didn’t want to stop, the journey had started there was no stopping. Less than an hour later I was too cold to drive and so I pulled over to put on a sweater, jacket and gloves. 

“Why didn’t I do that before” I chastised myself, feeling much more comfortable. Of course an hour later, after sunrise, I had to take the extra clothes off as the temperatures quickly rose to sweat levels.

First stop was Balotra, some 100 kilometres away where the Patwari’s home was.  Lalchand Patwari, father of Vishal lent me his Bullet 350cc motorcycle for my adventure.  So stopping off at their home was a mandatory and a grateful first stop.  During my hour stay there I was honoured with a short send off ceremony by Vishal’s mother Laxmi.  She hand fed me some special sweet foods, put a teekah on my forehead and tied a coloured string around my right wrist.  It’s still there.

Then off I went to my next stop at Jodhpur where I had to have some additional work done on the bike. So far so good, I was feeling very comfortable with the journey as I had previously traveled these roads before.  I would still be comfortable afterwards but I would also have the constant feeling of wanting to confirm and reconfirm I was on the right road.  Signage is not that great in India. This obsessive mental state paid off for me a few times along the way as I often merrily motored off down the wrong way.

In Jodhpur I found the Royal Enfield shop as I had before and had them make a few adjustments and put a new speedometer in.  While waiting for the repair I dropped my helmet and it landed directly on the visor which got a big scratch on it exactly at eye level where I would be looking through it.  Was this a bad omen for the first morning? I got used to it.

I found the right road out of Jodhpur and headed to Jaipur to spend the night with Joe at his NGO Pravah.  I had been there before (by train) so I sort of knew where it was, but I arrived at Jaipur at night and I got lost, despite stopping constantly asking for directions.  Finally I pulled up to an auto-rickshaw and asked him to lead me to Bapu Nagar where Joe was. He agreed to do this for 30 rupees and I was happy to finally get off the bike and get together with Joe for some supper. (which was a whole chicken teka and beer, one for each of us.)

The next morning I headed out early for Delhi. Leaving Jaipur wasn’t as bad as getting into it and I was soon on the killer highway dodging trucks that were often heading straight at me. Needless to say this wasn’t one of my favourite parts of the trip.  I did stop along the way at roadside stands to eat and rest and made it into Delhi in a quick 5 hours.  I found Mike’s place relatively easily as I had studied Google maps closely and memorized the route.  It was a dirty trip, Delhi air is very polluted and my orange shirt was noticeably blackened by soot all over it. It was good to get to Mike’s, my Delhi home.

Show me a sane man and I will cure him for you. - Carl Gustav Jung

 

 

 

Some Basic Concepts for Driving in India

So you fancy yourself ready to drive the hi-ways, by-ways and no-ways of India. Well let me tell you that it can be a very rewarding experience. After every ride you go on you will get out of your car, or off your bike and kiss the ground you rode on in gratitude that you survived another misadventure.

Actually there’s basically one or two concepts that I want to share with you that has helped me survive my recent travels from Barmer, Rajasthan to Manali, Kullu and back and these are:

Concept 1) Always drive defensively.

Now this may seem self evident, but after you have driven a while you may have the tendency to become a little to confident in your skills and analysis of the driving patterns you engage in and think to yourself that you’ve got it. So here’s my next concept for you to mull over.

Concept 2) When you think you’ve got the hang of driving in India, stop where you are and slap yourself strongly enough to get rid of that egotistical thought.

Why, because you will never understand Indian driving and there is a good and logical reason for this: no one does or ever will. Here’s why: You see some drivers here think there are rules and try to abide by them, some know there are rules and just ignore them, some are not even aware of any rules and drive as they wish, some are too young to drive but drive anyway and have no concept of anything, let alone driving and should be driven far away from as possible, and most drivers don’t have any idea what driving is all about, from etiquette to the physics of moving masses and beyond.

Please understand, all this seemingly negative or dismissive talk about the way Indians drive is none of the sort. I am merely trying to describe the driving scene as I see it and have experienced it. In all considerations of the “art” it always comes down to Concept 1 above.

So what does it mean to drive defensively? Will to start with, you must always where a helmet when driving a motorcycle. I know that when you look around and you see that most bikers do not wear a helmet and you like the feeling of the air blowing through your hair and catching bugs in your teeth. But you also love yourself (or at least respect yourself) and so show the world your love and respect and put the hard hat on. You will also be doing a community service by modeling to those who don’t wear helmets, the right/safe way to drive. And besides, if you do have an accident resulting in a head injury and you were not wearing your helmet, you health insurance will be invalidated.

But there are many other good reasons to wear a helmet: the visor keeps bugs, stones, dust and heat (or cold) off your face. If you drive long distances with no helmet (or the visor is up) your eyes will quickly dry out and get irritated as will your lips. Hence you are no longer kissable. A helmet also keeps your head a bit cooler/warmer as it insulates your head from the outside heat/cold, especially if your are using a white coloured one, which I think is the insurance rule in any case.

Driving defensively also means never, and I mean never never never never take your eyes and mind off the road. No daydreaming, not putting your vehicle on automatic control, no looking around to admire the scenery (unless you desire to become a part of the scenery). Driving in India means having a long attention span. If you don’t have one now, you will. Why, because every conceivable and inconceivable obstacle will come at you from all directions. Let me list a few so you get the idea:

Cars, trucks, buses, military vehicles, construction vehicles, motorcycles and scooters, bicycles, three wheelers, tractors, ox carts, camel carts, horse carts, goat carts, people (every variety), dogs, goats, cows (and you already know there’s lots of those around) cats, peacocks and hens, deer, chickens, vultures, rats and road hazards such as bricks, stones, boulders, sand, mud, glass, garbage, re-bar, dung (all types) holes and bumps, just to name a few. But there’s another catch, if you drive at night, most of these objects do not have any lighting whatsoever, including the motorized kind. And recall what I wrote in the previous paragraph, these challenges will come at you from the front, head on (remember the rules of the road: there are none), from the sides and rear and even from above and below. Never underestimate a falling tree or a truck that is packed too high and is about to rip out the power lines above it while you’re driving behind it.

Again, let me reassure you that although these things may seem comical to our foreign ways, these things all exist and happen (but not necessarily at the same time, but then again I suppose I could be proven wrong on this point).

Another lesser known defensive driving technique that I have found to work in many situations, is just to stop where you are, or in some cases like when a truck in heading directly at you at 100 kph, get off the road a.s.a.p. or sooner. When I first drove in India back in 1976 I was told that one of the rules of the road was that the slowest vehicle has the right of way. A bit oxymoronic I admit, but I have found that when I can’t figure out what to do in a complicated situation I just stop and wait for the dust clouds to clear. But use your judgement on this on as it pertains to Concept 1.

And one more little thing. If at all possible, don’t drive at night. Some of the reasons for this have been mentioned above, like objects on the road with no lighting, but also when there are vehicles with lights they will normally be on the high-blind-the-driver-coming-at-you level. And as a matter of interest the signs you see on some trucks that say: “Use your dipper at night” has no known English translation.

Hope these few thoughts don’t scare you off the road, but if you are planning a trip by vehicle somewhere, please call me for a whole lot of other details that could fill volumes.

I love to travel, But hate to arrive. -Albert Einstein

Chanchal

Chanchal is a 33 year old woman, married to Sudhir Tailong. She has a beautiful 5 year old daughter Sabhya who comes over to the office after school and loves to play with me. Chanchal works in our office as a part time consultant and I have recently been working on some R&D with her on the drought situation in Rajasthan in order to write a paper to find funds for the local villagers. (see the report at http://societytoupliftruraleconomy.blogspot.com/ )

Chanchal is first of all a very beautiful woman with an intense look when she speaks with you. I often feel like the rabbit caught in the headlights of the car, unable to move. She is a very intelligent and sensitive to the pain and suffering of those in need. This sensitivity drives her work. It has been a real pleasure to watch her work and be a part of the effort to we share here at SURE.

She also is an amazing dresser. Maybe it’s me, but I don’t think in all the time I’ve been here I’ve seen her in the same outfit twice and always a beautiful sari.

She has also been a good friend, helping me from the beginning to find a home and settling in, being concerned when I have been sick and helping me find resources for my home. I am very grateful to know her and know we will continue our friendship even after I leave India. In fact, I have been encouraging her to come to Canada with her husband and daughter.

The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other’s life.

Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof. - R. Bach

Attachments