The Motorcycle Diaries (of Rajasthan)

Back on the plane to Delhi I had a very interesting chat with Chris, a 30-something year old plumber born in Manchester but established in London since 1998. He and two mates were flying to India for a 3-week road trip by motorcycle that awakened the greatest of my interests from the first bit of conversation.

Day after day I couldn't take that idea off my mind, not even after meeting the absolute anarchy that rules the Indian roads. At this point there were only two options: 1) Jump on the first bike at a local rental or 2) Look for some wise assistance to avoid the catastrophic consequences of 1).

Luckily, my current supplies of common sense run high so I added two tea spoons to design a reasonably sane plan. The idea was to befriend some mid-aged honest-looking owner of a motorcycle once I arrived to Udaipur. This man should appreciate my life more than my pocket and only after a few days I'd bring the motorcyling tour onto the table.

Bearing this in mind I arrived to Udaipur, checked in the hotel and went for a walk. Didn't take long, barely 30 min after I left the hotel I found myself playing the (spinning) top with some local kids when I saw The Man. For those wondering how I knew that it was him, here some clue: apparently he was teaching a young German fellow how to ride his motorcycle; easy, hugh?

I approached the two men and started chit-chatting with the tourist first. His name was Alex and he -along with his girlfriend Johanna- was staying at Jaky's place as paying guest. Jaky (The Man) invited me to meet his family and offered some tea. In less than 45 min I had successfully completed the first phase of my master plan.

Next morning I moved in with the family. What I didn't know by then is that sometimes even the best plans don't develop as initially programmed. Cheers to that!. The next five days I shared so many things with the Sheikh family that I almost forgot about the motorcycle trip. In the morning I went to the market with Shabana (the mum), in the afternoon I visited some palace or temple with Jaky or went for a cycling tour with Niklaas (Swedish, 22); later, in the evening Shabana and me shared some cooking lessons and finally, at night I taught some games to the children -Farhat and Mohdkaif-, who freaked out with my old playground tricks.

And this is how we arrived to day 5, the D Day. Early in the morning Jaky and me took off for what was to become the milestone of the month. 8 hours of exciting motorcycling through an endless maze of nodes and snaky roads featuring two main stops: Ranakpur & Kumbhalgarh. The former is -as stated in India's LP- the most beautiful (Jain) temple of the subcontinent whereas the latter is the world's second largest wall (36km) after China's.

What an unforgettable day! I cannot find the words to describe the salad of sights and people passing by magically dressed with Dire Straits' Alchemy, outstanding! Here and now I promise that one day I'll be back in Rajasthan, riding one of these steel horses to the sunset, but that time I hope to have someone special laying on my back!

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En el avion a Delhi tuve una charla con Chris, un fontanero afincado en Londres que viajaba a la India para hacer un tour de 3 semanas en moto por el norte del pais. Desde aquella charla no pude quitarme la idea de hacer algo parecido de la cabeza. No obstante, mi sentido comun me decia que una cosa asi hay que hacerla solo si se conoce bien el pais o teniendo a alguien que lo conozca en el equipo. Y asi es como trace un plan para quitarme la espinita. La idea era conocer a algun hombre de mediana edad, de apariencia honesta y responsable al cual habria de convencer que mi vida era mas valiosa que mi bolsillo para el. Y asi es como conoci a Jaky en Udaipur. Este hombre me llevo a su casa y me presento a su familia. Durante 5 dias convivi con ellos y con una pareja de turistas alemanes (de mi edad). Por la mañana iba al mercado con la madre, por la tarde iba a ver algo con los alemanes o otro chico sueco que conoci. Por la noche intercambiaba clases de cocina con la madre y luego jugabamos con los niños (que eran supermajos). Y asi es como llegamos al quinto dia, el dia D. Jaky y yo salimos pronto por la mañana para cubrir un total de 250 km por la region. Me llevo a Ranakpur y Kumbalgarh, dos sitios impresionantes. No obstante, lo realmente memorable del dia fue el atardecer en moto escuchando musica de fondo, simpemente inolvidable.

Pics'n'Vids: Jodhpur, Udaipur & Ranakpur

Pics'n'vids: Riding A Steel Horse During Sunset

My Big Fat Indian Wedding

While in Pushkar I had the chance to see how a traditional wealthy Rajhastani wedding works, or at least the preparatives. The night before the wedding (which lasts for 2 days) the friends of the groom arrange a parade around the city where the ceremony is held. The parade is organised as follows:

First the band, featuring a trolley with speakers. Along with the band a group of women and/or children porting fancy lights. After them, more children and men dancing as if the devil had taken them up. Further on the groom on a horse carrying a lucky baby (Godchild I guess). Not far from the groom, his most loyal wingman throwing off money (hell yeah!). Finally the group of women and little children (on a carriage) close the procession.

And here some ground truth about the music: the louder and the more irritating, the better!

One last thing, this 'exciting' post is meant to test the loyalty of the readers. If you made it this far you are entitled to see the bonus post that I decided to hide from my beloved ones to save them unnecessary worrying. Enjoy!

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Mientras estaba en Pushkar tuve la oportunidad de ver una cabalgata prenupcial. Una banda abre la comitiva junto a unas mujeres o niños portando faroles. Detras los hombres y niños bailando poseidos. Luego el novio con un crio a caballo y junto a el, su hombre de confianza regalando dinero. Finalmente mujeres y niños, estos ultimos en un carro, cierran el desfile.

X-treme Nightbus Driving

The quest for new ways to stimulate the glands that produce human adrenaline has found in India a very fertile breeding ground. From the relatively old-fashioned wild water rafting to exotic elephant safaris including breakfast with tigers, visitors are offered a wide range of shortcuts to the cemetery. All this said, my particular choice is what I called X-treme Nightbus Driving.

What you need:

• 1x Old shabby bus
• 3x Insane Indian men (1x Driver, 2x Assistants)
• All the Gods with you

The Game:
Some private bus companies (a.k.a. one big belly man) buy relatively luxurious buses and put them on the road along with three guys with no much to lose. These madmen are requested to drive the so-called 'coffins on wheels' covering a more or less regular itinerary consisting of as many stops as potential customers are found on the way.

Last week I had the chance to share one of these rides between Jodhpur and Udaipur two cities separated by 300 km of Rajasthani desert. The estimated 'fly' time was 5 hours, but after two incidental stops (imaginatively solved with a little bit of rubber and tape) it raised to 7 hr.

I managed to capture one of the most exciting bits of the ride with my camera (I was kindly invited to the front seat for better shooting angle). As it can be seen in the video, the super-skilled driver attempts to overtake other buses in the course of a mountain climb. Not surprisingly, fellow drivers would try to do the same (in both directions), and here is where the two assistants come into play. Their mission consists in yelling and whistling at the other drivers to let them know who rules on the road. Top speeds can rise up to 120-140km/h regardless of the state of the road.

Although the whole thing might sound funny, many of these men (and passengers) die every year (e.g. 40px. last week). For that reason from now on I'll try to take trains instead!

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La semana pasada cogi un bus 'para turistas' entre Jodhpur y Udaipur. Fue un viaje movidito y lleno de visicitudes (paradas tecnicas que se resolvian con un poco de goma y cinta aislante). El tremendo desprecio por la vida humana mostrado por los conductores me ha hecho replantearme el transporte que utilizare de ahora en adelante; siempre que sea posible: ¡tren!.

Work as it should be

The visit to the Taj Mahal was ok, a must that didn't disappoint me. However I have to admit that sightseeing is not my thing. What I really want to highlight from my visit to Agra is meeting Estefania Faedda. I met Estefania (25, Argentinian) at the roof restaurant of the Shanti Lounge Hotel where both of us had breakfast staring at the Taj. This easy-going girl has been doing India on her own for almost one month. We got on so well that what started as a shared ride to the Red Fort ended as a 3-day trip to Pushkar. On day 3 she left but I decided to stay in Pushkar and here is why:

Pushkar (14000 hab.) is a small town in the middle of the desert which has been gifted by the Gods with the most precious resource in India: water. Water brings life, life includes plants, and certain plants bring a very specific kind of 'relaxed' tourists to this small paradise in the middle of nowhere. But Little Ibiza, as I've named it, can offer much more than that. For me it was a perfect place where I could hike, rest and work on a paper for an upcoming conference; and all that for less than 5 eur/day.

My day at work:
Wake up at 6-7 am. Three hours hike to the surrounding hills. Enjoy the sunrise from the temples on the top. Down to town. Have huge breakfast, shower and body care. Two-three hour work session (reading, writting...) enhanced with lemon teas and classic rock music (at the roof terrace of the Pink Floyd Cafe). Upload things to the net from an internet cafe. Supertasty Indian lunch (1 eur). One hour nap. Visit to some temples or other activities (e.g. mimic chat with a bunch of countryside workers). Dinner & chill out with fellow travelers. Watch the stars. Go bed.

As you can see even the non-puffers will find many reasons to stay in a place like Pushkar for a few days.

TOPps: I hope Woulter takes this post into consideration when they open TOPdesk India.

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Mi visita al Taj Mahal estuvo bien. El sitio no defrauda, pero ver un edificio no es que sea lo que mas disfruto al viajar. Asi que de mi dia en Agra me gustaria destacar haber conocido a Estefania Faedda. Esta argentina de 25 años lleva casi un mes viajando sola por India. Lo que empezo como un viaje en taxi al Fuerte Rojo se convirtio en tres dias viajando juntos. Tras estoy ella sigio con si viaje y yo me quede en Pushkar.

Pushkar es un pueblo de 14000 hab. en mitad del desierto. Bastante turistico, Pushkar se caracteriza por su ambiente hippie. El sitio, al que he bautizado como Pequeña Ibiza, me cautivo, y decidi quedarme unos dias. En estos dias me dedique a subir las colinas que rodean la ciudad, trabajar en mi articulo para la conferencia de Londres, beber te, comer mucho, echar siestas y charlar con otros viajeros. Y todo esto por menos de 5 eur/dia. Por cierto, en una de mis excursiones acabe haciendo mimica con unos campesinos, muy interesante lo que me explicaban (como buenamente podian). Como siempre la gente del campo, la mejor.

Pic of the Week: Morning Hike

Pics'n'vids: Agra & Pushkar

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly in Delhi

The Good
Last Wednesday was my last day in Delhi. An amazing day with Seth, a 22-years old American who studies and speaks Hindi (local language). Master of the city, he took me to some really cool temples (not included in any guide that I know) using public buses. If I had to choose one that would be Nizzamudin's Mosque, a supersacred place in the heart of a slum. As Seth explained to me, religions in India are as diverse and pintoresque as its people. A good example is that mosque, where muslims benerate the tombs of two dead gurus (note that the gurus are a hindu concept).

The Bad
Our way back home turned into a living movie. In a previous post I mentioned that Delhi's Metro is one of the cleanest and safest that I've used. Nonetheless that doesn't exclude the presence of random pocket pickers on the overcrowed trains at peak hour. And so Seth underwent the unfortunate experience of getting his wallet stolen. A very neat execution of a well-designed plan: (1) one guy stands behind the victim and leans forward over him, (2) a fellow picker extracts the wallet from the pocket; (3) the victim, blocked by the crowd cannot turn and therefore has no clue about the person who took his wallet.

Unfortunately for the pickers, Seth and me are not easy victims. As soon as he noticed the happening, we started shouting: Keep the money, throw the cards and the wallet! The rest of the passengers did the same. Seth catched the guy behind him (PC#1 or potential criminal #1) while I scanned the floor among the crowd. When the train stopped I suggested that we should remain on the train, Seth disagreed he was sure that PC#1 was involved and so he would not let him go under any circumstance. The three of us Seth, me and PC#1 got off the train and proceeded to warn the authorities. PC#1 remained quiet and confident which arouse some doubts in me. The chief of the station took us to his room and started questioning the guy. Although there was no proof and he claimed to be inocent, there was something intrigating. PC#1 described himself as a university student on his way home; nevertheless his age, look and the lack of any student gear was quite suspicious...

The Ugly
After one hour of fruitless questioning, three officials of Delhi's Police Department got on the stage. The first one was quite scary, like an Iraqui soldier having a bad day. He threated PC#1 but didn't go beyond a strong foot overstep. Then, officer #2 took over. He was supposed to be the good cop but no, there is no good cop in India. The man, on his 50s, walked PC#1 to a corner and started whispering to his ear. He offered him some sort of deal, I guess. At first PC#1 didn't accept, but after 5 minutes something happened. Suddenly and after officer # 2's request they switched off the lights of the room. Officer #2 dropped a couple of sweet kicks (not very hard) on PC#1 (unfortuate Nepal's son from now on). He confessed everything, and in no time the officers were negotiating the randsom on the phone. Two long hours of calls, lights going on and off and a loose belt flying over PC#1. Seth got his wallet back (not the cards though) and the unfortunate Nepal's son is facing some months in the hole before being kicked out of the country.

There is one actor that I haven't described yet. That is officer #3. He was the toughest of the three. I challenge the audience to envision a 2-meters tall policeman wearing casual clothing and a turban with a huge stone around his head. He was Sikh. One day I'll go in details with the Sikhs, in my opinion the most amazing ethnic group in India.


Interesting things I've learnt:

1. When on board, passangers are requested to hit gently the side part of a public bus to stop it.
2. Every Sikh man wears a steel ring around his wrist. They put it on when they're teenagers and wait until the wrist grows to wear it for the rest of their lives (no removable).
3. Male homosexuality is forbidden in India, lesbianism is not. If catched in fraganti, only the 'taker' would be prosecuted. Transexuals are considered a separate cast and porters of bad luck.

PS: I uploaded new pictures to Delhi's Pic'n'Vids

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El Bueno, El Feo y El Malo en Delhi. En mi ultimo en dia en Delhi estuve visitando unos cuantos templos de diferentes religiones con Seth, un americano de 22 años que habla y estudia indi ademas de religion. Fuimos en autobuses publicos hasta una mezquita de uno de los barrios mas pobres de la capital. Impresionante lugar de contrastes. A la vuelta, en metro, alguien le robo la cartera a Seth (que es un poco feliciano, todo hay que decirlo). Un plan perfecto si no fuese porque ni Seth ni yo somos presas faciles. Cogimos al tio que estaba detras suyo y le bajamos al anden en la siguiente estacion. Le llevamos a la sala de maquinas donde le interrogaron, primero los de la estacion y luego la policia. Tras 3 horas de negociacion y un par de patadas y cinturonazos, el pobre nepali confeso y sus compinches nos trajeron la cartera de vuelta (sin tarjetas eso si).

Reclame

Pics'n'vids: Delhi

Simply Delhi-ghted!

Two days in Delhi have been enough to exceed my expectations about India. It is difficult to express with words the mixture of feelings that develop inside a first-time visitor to India, but if I had to choose one I'd go for brutal reality.

Everything seems to be upscaled here, from the aromas of Indian food to the size of the pharaonic buildings, yet the largest difference that one finds is that between the havs and the non-havs.

Shortly after arriving to the hotel I went for a walkabout through the nearby streets. Normally I'm the kind of traveler that doesn't miss the chance to turn towards a dark-narrow alley, but in my first walk in India I had a hard time just crossing the Main Bazaar. People selling (and eating) what would be the leftovers of any European market, a very intensive smell of urine, a constant flow of eager eyes seeking out business and in the middle of the buzz a couple of cows resting pleasantly. Quite a first impression I'd say!

Nonetheless after having some rest and a short chat with Rub -a 50-year old Dutchman regular to this hotel-, I understood that my paranoia was as exagerated as absurd (I even played a mock withdrawal at the ATM just to ensure that nobody was chasing me). So, I woke up in the morning and went for my second round at Delhi's ring. First surprise, at 200 m. from the hotel I found one of the cleanest and safest metro trains I've ever been to. First stop, Red Fort, simply amazing. After that I headed to the Jama Masjid, the largest mosque of India. While I waited for the end of the mid-day prayers, I met Asfi and Asnaf. The two around-8-year-olds taught me some Indi words using my icon dictionary. Afterwards, they showed me the mosque and explained where and how they prayed. Sadly, the shoe-watcherman didn't like the idea of children bothering tourist so the two kids obtained respective slaps as goodbye present.

Later on I visited the bazaar, and after that the city hall where I met Hassan. Hassan (18, muslim) taught me how to play cricket. I accepted his offer to play a short match with fruitless results (big fun though).

As the sun set over Delhi, I walked the 3 miles separating the President's Palace and the Gate of India. Then, Connaught place, a 1 square-km shopping centre in the heart of Delhi. Finally I returned to the hotel where I shared a delicious lemon tea with one of the Nepali young waiters who work at the roof-terrace of the hotel. It was moving how his eyes turned emotional when talking about his family and home back in Nepal.

Nothing else for now, more news soon.

Interesting thing I've learnt:

1. The Swastika is an hindu/buddhist sign (Perhaps related to the Basque Lauburu?)
   
2. Always use your own lock at Indian hotels.
3. New Delhi's metropolitan train works better than London's Tube.
4. How to play cricket.
5. Indian people are extremely kind and nobody would dare to touch you unless you do it first.

PS: I won't include any pictures of the amazing poverty that I found during my first walk through the bazar not to worry anyone.

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Rapido resumen. India es impresionante, ha desbordado mis expectativas en dos dias. Aunque al principio impone algo de respeto (impresiona ver la pobreza extrema que salpica la ciudad), tras unos cuantos paseos y charlas con gente del lugar te das cuenta de que es bastante mas segura que cualquier capital europea.
En dos dias he visitado unos cuantos bazares (abiertos todo el dia), y las grandiosas edificaciones del Fuerte Rojo, la Mequita Jama Masjid, el Palacio Presidencial y la Puerta de India. Tambien he conocido bastante gente, desde Rub, un holandes de 50 años que me ha dado muy buenos consejos (como usar el metro o comprar mi propio candado) hasta Abrup, un chaval Nepali que sirve tes en la azotea por la noche. Sin embargo, con los que mas me he divertido fueron Asfi y Asnaf, una pareja de crios que me enseñaron algunas palabras en indi (gracias a mi diccionario de iconos) y que me ofrecieron una visita guiada por la mezquita donde rezan sus padres. Por cierto, como regalo de despedida Asfi y Asnaf se llevaron dos ostias como dos panes de parte del que cuidaba los zapatos. Luego conoci a Hassan un chaval de unos 18 años que me enseño a jugar al cricket. Echamos un partidillo en un parque al lado del ayuntamiento.

Nada mas por ahora, disfrutar de las fotos y ya os contare mas pronto.

Pic of the Week: Little Girl in Delhi

Getting to the Airport: Vitoria-Zaragoza-London

This is Iñaki safe & sound writing from an Internet cafe right next to Camdem Town (London).

What a cracking start! Three days catching up with old friends and making new ones. I spent the first night out at Salomon's Inn. Salomon is a 20-year old huge cat sharing and apartment with four girls in centre of Zaragoza (Spain). One of them, Maria, was one of my best friends during my time as a student in Pamplona. She and Silvia (another ex-classmate) helped me to unpack/repack and took me out for dinner. Big fun!

On Wednesday I took my first flight to London. I was quite lucky since two days earlier Ryanair had canceled the very same flight due to heavy snow at Stansted Airport. I left Zaragoza (20C, Sunny) around 2pm and arrived to London (5C, Snowing) around 2:30 (local time). Then I confirmed my theory about snow. Snow can be as enjoyable for some as dramatic for others. For me, as a young-active traveler it's rather the first. Didn't take long before I realised that most Londoners do not share my opinion, first thing I read on the free-papers: 'SNOW DAY 3: RUBBISH PILES UP!'.

In London I've stayed at Chiew-Kit's. Chiew-Kit belongs to the great community of Couch Surfing (a.k.a. people who open the doors of their home to travelers just for fun). Without a doubt, meeting Chiew-Kit and his friends has been the best thing I've done in London. Apart from his extraordinary kindness, he's taught me many things about Asian culture (he's a mix of Chinese and Malay). In exchange I've taught him how to prepare some decent Spanish food.

Beyond that it's always great to come back to London, although I must admit that it is quite not the same without my old friends from Guildford. Westminster, Oxford Str., Soho, Covent Garden, Camdem; nothing new apart from half of Camdem's market being burned to the ground, yet always fun.

Highlights of my prologue:

1. Having my first fix of Cola Cao (Day 0 deserves special care).
2. Being waken up by a 10-kilo polar bear (dressing up as a cat).
3. Being chased (almost harassed I'd say) by a Russian lady during my visit to the Fright Club near the London's Eye.
4. Making a snowman for the Queen in front of Buckingham Palace.
5. Cooking Spanish stuff for Asian people (upcoming 'Business of the Year')

Interesting things I've learnt:

• Chinese people address their family's name in the front followed by their given name.
• Tortilla tastes as good in London as anywhere else.

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Tres dias y todo genial. Despues de una noche en casa de unas amigas de Zaragoza (mencion especial para el gato-gigante llamado Salomon), tome el avion para Londres. Pase de 20 a 5 grados en menos de dos horas. La nieve ha aportado un componente especial al viaje, uno no tiene siempre la oportunidad de dedicarle un muñeco de nieve a la Reina Madre.

Estos dos ultimos dias he dormido genial en casa de Chiew-Kit, un estudiante chino-malayo muy majo que me ha enseñado mogollon de cosas sobre Asia y al cual he pagado enseñandole a hacer una buena torilla de patata (por cierto mama, ya te dije que comeria tortilla antes de lo que tu te pensabas).

Nada mas, esta noche voy al aeropuerto para salir para mi proximo destino.

Pics'n'vids: Vitoria-Zaragoza-London