Cycle India - Sunday 6th January
Ian Fulton's Write Up, cycle india 2008
Up at 5am to grab your hot water, followed by breakfast outside in the dark at 6 and ready to say goodbye to the Bishop at 7, and off on our bikes at 7.30 for our second day of cycling to an immediate realisation that I had grown extra bones in my backside since the previous day, and they all hurt!
A quick 20 km, then an interesting, lazy river crossing in a fleet of small boats. I think it was only about 30-minutes in the boats but, one way or another, it was about two-hours between getting off our bikes and getting back on them again, what with compulsory standing around and getting the bicycles, the motorbikes, and us on and off the boats.
Once across the river, we did another 20 km before taking lunch in a temporary restaurant that our crew had set up in a village en route. Because of the lengthy river crossing, we were cycling through the real heat of the day leading up to lunch, and that was the hardest ‘session’ of the trip for me.
The charity had arranged for a professional video maker to travel with us from the UK, and he was ably supported by a keen amateur. There was also a professional Indian filmmaker who joined us, so there was no shortage of cameras around. These guys got everywhere, mainly on motorbikes, filming absolutely everything. They were never off duty and did much more than just take shots of us, scooting off to film in slum areas and to capture other snapshots of India that we weren’t always seeing.
The idea is for the UK guy to produce a two-minute promotional film for the charity – he should have enough to choose from with over 30-hours of film! The cyclists are all hoping that there will also be a longer version for us to keep as a memento.
Cycling through the occasional town (or villages as they were generally regarded as by the Indians) was an experience to behold. The traffic was usually utter chaos, particularly when witnessed from bike level. Our marshals would be frantically trying to get to the correct corners in time to direct us through the towns.
On the occasional stretch of dual carriageway, there was no telling what you might find coming the wrong way towards you.
Another adrenalin charged end to the second day saw us arrive in a field at Manginapudi Beach, where I was lucky enough to get a work over from one of our travelling masseurs. The accommodation for half the group was in holiday style chalets in this field, but the other half had to go to the village where a hotel had been arranged. Thinking that the village sounded about five-minutes away, we volunteered to jump on the coach.
Unfortunately, the ‘village’ of Challapalli was forty-minutes drive away and was, of course, a bustling, noisy place. By the time we got there, we had twenty minutes to get cleaned up and back on the bus for food and an evening gathering.
Unfortunately, the hotel at Challapalli was dreadful. Terry and I got dealt the last key, which lead us to room 112, which was truly filthy. We agreed that nobody should be stuck with this room and that we would rather sleep on the coach, only to find that others were in the same boat.
Our trip back to Manginapudi Beach was improved by the timely purchase of a few cold beers, and the ‘Village People’ were forming that extra bond brought about by adversity. Fortunately, our hosts intervened during the evening to secure other rooms and all turned out well. It was possibly an indicator of what we might have been faced with if we hadn’t had people looking out for us all the way through. A great evening was had before returning late to the hotel after a good sing song on the coach.
Matthew @ March 10, 2008