The Blue Camels

The Blue Camels

The Blue Camels

Three crazy dudes driving a Tuc-Tuc (aka Rickshaw) across India.

Website URL: http://www.thebluecamels.com

Post date 02 October 2011

Our final days in India were to be spent in Delhi. So we left Jaisalmer on the morning of Monday on board a vehicle that traveled at a mind-boggling 80km/h most of the way, without a single breakdown. Back to civilization/technology. We were off to Jodhpur airport to board another vehicle that traveled at an even faster speed without breaking down (to our satisfaction and relief).

Arriving at the airport, we saw a number of teams that have also made the journey to Jodhpur airport to fly out to Delhi/Mumbai where they would be catching their connection flights back home. Most were leaving India. Few stayed behind to continue the adventure of discovering India.

Post date 26 September 2011
3,000 kilometers, 13 days, 60L of petrol, 50+ breakdowns, 30 chai stops, etc.. Numbers that describe the 2011 Autumn Rickshaw Run as experienced through the Blue Camels' senses and vehicle. These numbers tell very little about the adventure itself, for numbers do not capture emotions, feelings, thoughts, smiles, tears and laughter. However, starting on the 23rd of September, when we ended the race at 5pm in Jaisalmer, numbers will dictate how our story is told. Pity really. But that needn't be the case. We have documented this epic journey in high definition video, spanky photos and some blog posts. These mediums are hardly sufficient to document every magical moment that we experienced in those 13 days, but we hope they give you a taste of what was. --------------------- Over the last 4 days of our trip, we really started to master our rickshaw, "she who cannot be named". We all became expert rickshaw-wallahs, as they are called locally. Our confidence levels soared as we took on Rajasthani roads, trucks and cows head on. The team picked up some real good tans and did some serious mileage. On day 10, we left Agra to go to Jaipur. That morning we left a bit later from the city than we usually do when leaving a place. We crossed the Yamuna River to take videos on the bank with the Taj Mahal in the background. It was a beautiful morning and some of the locals around were helping out. We got some great footage to add to our submission to the World Diabetes Day campaign. We then got escorted to a souvenir shop where we spent what little money we had left on gifts for loved ones at home; plus some goodies for ourselves. The owner of the shop, as it turns out, is diabetic, so we got an interview with him on video as well. It is crazy; the number of diabetics there are. Many locals have direct or second hand experience with diabetes. Leaving Agra without a jerry can for the first time. That's the little 10L container we mix our oil and petrol in before putting it into the fuel tank. So we thought to ourselves "There's four days left. Let's just mix it as we pour it in to the tank. No need to invest in a new jerry can." It caused a few hairy moments at petrol stations when they refused to fill up our tanks directly (something about it being a safety hazard). Overall, the engine was ok though. Our guesstimates were pretty much spot on, I guess. Did some lovely afternoon driving to arrive in Jaipur in the late afternoon. Checked into Karni Niwas guesthouse, where some of the other teams had already checked in. Kick back and enjoy the evening. Distance covered: 240km. Wake up very slowly on day 11, as we made it a rest day where we dedicated 3 hours in the morning to visiting the local hospital and medical college for diabetes interviews. The hospital was not fruitful as it was bogged down with patients and we couldn't get any time with the local endocrinologists or diabetologists. Fortunately, the medical college had some wonderful students who were willing to talk to us about diabetes in India and their thoughts on it. After lunch we headed to Amber Fort, a beautiful on a hill just outside Jaipur where we witnessed fantastic landscapes, monkeys and a cobra piper. We proceeded to purchase some precious stones from Jaipur's bustling old city (a.k.a "pink city") in the form of rings, earrings, bracelets. All as gifts of course. Distance covered: 0km. After agreeing to convoy with another team ("you've korma be joking") the night before, we missed the departure time by a good hour and a half. So we were on the road again, alone. The roads were not too stressful, and our destination for the day was going to be Jodhpur. This is the day before last based on our schedule. Our emotions are a nice mix of longing and anticipation, but also of sadness as we realized it was coming to an end. Only 600km to go or so, and it felt weird. We really did get attached to the beast and the routine. Wake up early. Churn out the kilometers. Work the broken down rickshaw. Get through the potholes. Break for chai and dal. It was a bitter sweet feeling, which we enjoyed thoroughly. Most of our day went on without a major hitch. Our petrol tank cover started disintegrating again, so we used a pack of crisps in front of the cover on the tank, to make sure nothing comes out of it. Some duct tape never hurt. We arrive in Jodhpur late afternoon, around 5 30 and check into where our lovely mates from "you've korma be joking" were staying. Proceed to the local market to enjoy local pineapple and coconut juice, followed by a shave and a hair cut. On our arrival back at the hotel room, each one of us just crashed to bed. We were exhausted. Distance covered: 330km Final day arrives. We wake up excited. The rickshaw has been making funny noises over the last 400km, and we're thinking, this would probably have been the extent of its ability to cope with the Indian roads and the Rickshaw Run. Our first 50km is basically east-Indian in its condition. Many pot holes and our beast took a beating. The rest of the ride to Jaisalmer was dotted with camel photos, lovely music, deep silent moments, and laughter. Good times with the boys on this trip. Although our trip in India is not over yet, we know that the intensity is going to drop significantly in the next 8 hours. We're happy for that. We're sad for that. As human beings, we were not lost before embarking on this trip, and yet, we found ourselves on it. It is hard to explain. I guess my most vivid memories of this trip were the ones where I was completely immersed in the moment. Nothing else crept into what you were doing or seeing. Nothing. I guess that's what meditation is about. In this day and age of super communication it is great to get a break like that. Our last few kilometers are driven to the sounds of Bob Marley, The Eagles and house music. We arrive in Jaisalmer, proceed to the finish line at Jawahar Niwas Palace. It's not a big welcoming finish line. There's barely anyone there. That's ok. We feel good to be here. We sign on the finish board. Join everyone else at the swimming pool for some food and drink and chill out... Distance covered: 270km Much took place after we arrived in Jaisalmer. I will be talking about that in the next blog post. Please visit our Facebook page, where we have uploaded many a photo for your enjoyment and ridicule. God bless...
Post date 20 September 2011

Leaving Varanasi early Sunday morning was painful. It is such a great city, beautiful in its chaos, spiritual in its own soothing way, but most of all it is a city we saw very little of. To all visiting India, Varanasi should definitely be a stop on your itinerary.

I have now officially become the worst blogger. We have documented our trip in pictures and videos and lovely memories. They will be uploaded eventually :p In the meantime, let me walk you through the last four days of madness on the rickshaw run. To be honest though, last four days pale in difficulty to the first four days we had. Nevertheless, quite eventful and full of wonderful moments and people.

Day 8:

Wake up at 5am. Again. Get the packing done as quickly as possible. We have a long road ahead today. We're hoping to arrive in Agra tomorrow to witness the beauty of the Taj Mahal. So our itinerary for the day leads us towards Kanpur which is approximately 300km south east of Agra.

The illegal immigrants, rare travels and rick dangerous were with us through the last five days in a lovely little convoy, and so we pushed on from Varanasi, together once again. Only this time, our carburetor problems make us much of a burden, and we keep stopping every couple of kilometers, slowing down the convoy. After a quick caucus, the convoy agreed to the Blue Camels' request to be left behind at the mechanic's while they press ahead, with the intent of meeting each other later on in the day, somewhere down the road to Kanpur.

H2 quickly finds breakfast (some awesome spicy aloo matar, potatoes and green peas, with little rotis). We descend on it like a pack of wild dogs, as our mechanic, silent as a dead person, takes apart "she who cannot be named" and cleans her out. Fast forward 45 minutes, and we're on the road again, after taking photos and giving away Bahrain memorabilia to the crowd that were surrounding us at the garage.

Except for the 8 decibels of exhaust pipe banging to the bumper in the back, the beast was running smoothly. We're pushing 60km/h. That's terrific. We might be able to catch up with the convoy; we are after all, only 1 hour behind. Alas, things never go to plan, and 20 minutes into our rejuvenated ride on the beast our carburetor clonks again, and we slow down to a stop on the National Highway. We're not feeling so good right now. After a day of rest and service we thought she would be up to the task. We get out, figure our options. Allahabad is only 60km away. Let's get there and look for a mechanic. Again.

We arrive eventually in Allahabad, and some random dudes off the road start asking us to pay tax. We argue and plea with them, and eventually they let us through without tax. Mind you, it was Rs20 (200 fils/30 cents). It wasn't about money. It was principle. We're not paying, period.

Off we go towards where we were told there was a mechanic. After much explaining in broken english/hindi/sign language, the crowd makes way to Mr. Khamrej, who looks like a war veteran. He bids us to ride with him, to a place near by where he has a 'friend', who happens to know auto-rickshaws inside out. We arrive at said place, and said man descends upon "she who cannot be named", quickly diagnosing the problem and coming up with a solution. Solution: take apart the carburetor, fully! and clean everything including exhaust pipe and air filter.

2 hours and several chai-from-plastic-bags later, Khamrej invites us to his humble abode to share chai with him. This is a sign of respect and friendship, and although we are trailing the convoy by a good four hours by now, we take him up on the offer and proceed to his lovely little home. His son, Vitali, is a great character who speaks some English (oh, Khamrej doesn't speak any English, but somehow we still have some phone conversations that last over 3 minutes long) and shows us around the house and his cow. Yes, Vitali owns a cow. India.

Off we go, the beast sounds like she just came out of the showroom. It is a lovely feeling, this is. So we are flying down the highway, making up some wonderful time, as we bear down to Kanpur to hopefully meet the convoy. Hours and hours we drive, as always, into the sun. As we near Kanpur we check in with the rest of the convoy. They haven't found a place to stay yet. Somehow we lose connection with them and end up in McDonald's. Shame. We eat like the hungry Bahrainis we are, and continue to discuss our plans for the evening.

H2 almost convinced us to do a night ride to Agra. Luckily, the McMaharaja and McNuggets settled those feelings of adventure, and so we check into a nice little hotel down the road.

The convoy has separated. Rick Dangerous is actually on the road still, 180km outside Agra. The Illegal Immigrants and Rare Travels are 100km away from us. The camels are alone once again. And yet, as we put our heads down to sleep that night, none of us worried what the next day would present to us in challenges and rewards.

Distance covered: 330km

Day 9:

We need to make it to Agra today. Around 300km away, it is bound to be a long one.

Wake up at 5am. Get packed. We were out of bed and on the road in about 30 minutes, and out of Kanpur in about 45 minutes. Got lost a couple of times. Tariq's iPhone Google Maps is still not working as phone connection is clonking.

The convoy is ahead of us by 180km this morning. We push on, on the National Highway pushing 60km/h. This is becoming easy. The road is giving us space and we're making some good time. At around 12pm, we have already covered 200km of road. We sit down to chill and have some chai, even though it is sweltering hot outside.

We check up on the convoy. They are actually behind us!! The illegal immigrants ran into some carburetor problems. So we waited in the little tea place we were in, and lo and behold we are brought together with our lovely convoy made up of Nambi, Duncan, Mark, Candace and Mama Citlali. It's been less than 48h, but we miss them. It's good to see them.

We ride in convoy to Agra. Reach there. Check in. Quickly make it to Taj Mahal. This part cannot be put into words. You must visit this wonder of the world. It blew all of us away. We took some lovely photos and our tour guide enchanted us with tall tales of the building of this great palace and its history. It is magical being here, and at sunset. We just float around the Taj, talking, smiling, and bumping into other rickshaw run teams.

We meet a Bahraini, Houda Sangoor, who was in India for some conferences. Lovely bumping into a Bahraini so far away from home. She was shocked and amazed at what we were attempting, and wished us the very best of luck. God bless you, Houda.

The evening fizzles out into a nice dinner with the convoy and "You've Korma Be Joking", who are made up of 5 individuals on two different rickshaws. Fun times, indeed.

Distance covered: 273km

Day 10:

Up in the am. We make the hard decision of leaving the convoy once again, as we were hoping to get some video footage with the Taj Mahal as the backdrop. We head over to the opposite bank of the Yamuna River, and we get some great videos for World Diabetes Day, our sponsors, Standard Chartered Bank and Nonoo Exchange. La La and Vikcy, two lovely little Indians help us navigate the streets of Agra, and purchase some gifts and souvenirs.

Off we go again. We're late, leaving Agra. It's almost 12pm. We've got over 200km to cover. The beast however, is not daunted by such a feat, and impressively clocks the trip  to Jaipur in less than 6 hours. Fantastico!

The convoy has settled into this lovely little hotel called Karni Niwas, where we join them. Have some dinner in the hotel, sit and chat. It becomes a long night. But that doesn't matter at this point, because The Blue Camels are sleeping in tomorrow and seeing the city + doing some diabetes interviews at local hospital plus medical college.

Distance covered: 240km

Day 11:

Wake up late. Have some eggs and head to the hospital for some interviews. The local hospital is packed to the brim. H1 and T-man navigate the crowd, try to pry away some doctors, but with no success.

Make it to the medical college and get some lovely interviews with some medical students.

Off we are for some touristy stuff, after we got some diabetes footage for World Diabetes Day campaign. We eat Pizza Hut first. Yummy.

Then move on to Amber Fort. We came here with no expectations, and this site blew us away. We almost started thinking "Taj Mahal ain't got nothing on this place". It's beautiful, serene and picturesque. We meet the Dubai team there. It's funny how their team name is "Right Place, Right Time", and we always bump into them on the road somewhere.

We leave Amber Fort and head to a local jewel wholesaler who rinsed us dry, but gave us some nice little trinkets in return. The jeweler, Shintu, later joins us at the Copper Chimney for a nice dinner meal.

It's been a long day, again, and tomorrow we push for the longest distance yet. To Jodhpur we go. They say it's around 350km. Ouch.

Distance covered: 0km

I will cover the story of today's ride to Jodhpur and tomorrow's ride to Jaisalmer in a later blog, hopefully published in the next few days. Tomorrow is the final push. The beast is sputtering and muttering, but we need her now more than ever. We're tired, dirty, broke and we want to sleep more than 5 hours.

Wish the camels luck. We'll need it.

 

Good night and god bless...

Post date 18 September 2011

I am writing to you on the 17th of September, a lovely day by all measures. But yesterday must be documented, for its craziness has yet to be matched during this rickshaw run.


Day 6:


We wake up at 4 30am. I haven't done that since... wait. I haven't done that, period. Start packing frantically, as usual. We promise ourselves every night that we'd get all of our stuff packed and ready to go the next morning, but somehow that has not taken place on any of the mornings or evenings before.

Leave the room at 5 15am, to start packing our stuff on to the top of the beast and fill up our petrol tanks and tighten the bolts on our wheels. 5 30am, we're off. T has taken to the beast very nicely over the last few days and drove out this morning. Off we go. 10 minutes in, we hit a major traffic jam. T doesn't like it, so H1 takes "she who cannot be named" through side roads and over a bridge to a shortcut which helped us pass about 50 vehicles stuck in the traffic jam.


6 15am: still stuck in traffic. no way through. start driving on the wrong side of the road (which back home is the right side of the road), and squeeze through trucks and vehicles. Mostly, we are forced on to the wrong side of the road's dirt side. This feels real bad, and it doesn't look like its ending. We stop by a rickshaw going the other way. "How long is this traffic jam?", we ask. "A couple of kilometers behind me", he replies. Shocked and disappointed we try to take it meter by meter.


7 15am: still stuck in traffic. We've gotten better at threading in and out of traffic. The trucks horns are getting really loud, or our tempers and patience have started to wear out. Come to a dirt road on the right, pushed over by a truck blaring its horn at us. We now realize, our convoy of the "illegal immigrants", "rare travels" and "Rick Dangerous II) has been divided up in the traffic. I decide to push on anyway. There is no reason to wait behind; we'll meet each other in a couple of kilometers down the road. I decide to take on the septic water puddle in front of us, and splash some around inside. 4 motorcycles come our way. I dodge all but one, with some professional driving. The motorcycle falls over on its side, cushioned by all the bags the guy is carrying. He runs after us. Gets to us, obviously, since we were in insane traffic. Pulls me by my t-shirt, I tell him to relax, he just pulls me all the way to his bike and asks me to pull it up with him. Not bad, I think, for a guy I just crashed into. Off we are again, glad that didn't escalate any further.


8 15am: still stuck in traffic.


9 15am: kind of get out of it and drive at an average 20km an hour for a while.
Hit some open road. H2 has taken the helm after we stopped for biscuits and sprite. 20 minutes in, the other team's battery falls out of car. We stop, tie it back on with rope. H1 drops sunglasses as we take off. No time to stop for it again. Keep on shawing (lucky we got cheap ones from bab al bahrain). 10 minutes later H2 realizes he forgot his sunglasses on top of the other team's rickshaw. Stop to look. It's gone. We're feeling down. Add insult to injury. H2 then drives a motorbike off the road which then bumps (more like nudges) a bicycle that is off road. We feel terrible. We slow down. They look okay. We drive on. No time to stop.


12pm: Realize we have just over 200km to cover. Decide to stop for lunch. Hit up some stretch of highway where our carberator starts acting up on us again. Doesn't look good anymore. And here we were this morning thinking it was going to be a nice easy day of driving.
Stop for lunch. More dal. Roti. Everyone is silent. Somber moods. Actually, it was more like exhaustion. Everyone has just had the longest 5 days of driving, and here we are pushing on Day 6, and it's just getting to everyone, I think. Dubai team comes zooming through the dhaba (rest stop) we're in and tell us of their crazy welding escapade with some locals this morning. Everything seems to be falling apart on their rickshaw, and yet here they are making good time. Kudos, honestly. It lifts our spirits as we see their jubilant smiles and hear their funny stories.
Off we go. We're making some good speed on this open stretch of highway. Averaging around 40km/h. At this point on the rickshaw run, that feels fantastic. Our carberator is still acting up, and we're stopping every 20km or so to just let it rest for a minute, before pushing for another 20km. Somehow we're still feeling good. It's 3 30pm. We have 2 or 3 hours of sunlight left and 95km to go. We might actually make it to Varanasi.


It's 5 30pm now, we're 40km out now. So close. We're seeing grey and sometimes black clouds ahead of us. Thunder starts to rumble, lighting bolts start to shatter the sky. And in India, when it rains, IT POURS! Down it comes, in a constant curtain of water. Our wiper is weak, it's getting dark, our google maps on T's iphone has died (no battery). We're starting to feel a bit desperate again.


It gets darker and darker as we drive along. H2 is doing really well so far. Thank god he has his prescription glasses on. H1 and T man are in the back with their heads out, guiding him through the rain, the ditches, past trucks, and between them. The rain is soaking us. We are all wet, cold and tired.


The driving continues. The rain keeps on coming. The trucks that are passing us barely see us, as we have no tail lights. Our headlamp light is also out, and all we have are the orange ‘danger’ indicators on. Not good.


H2 perseveres through this gigantic monsoon shower and guides us and the shaw to a final toll booth right before Varnasi. It’s still raining, but we step outside anyway (we’re soaked all the way through at this point) and just stand around and pat each other on the back. One team missing. Rare Travels seems to have taken a wrong turn at some point. They’re not with us. A quick phone call and we decide to go ahead, and meet them in the city later on.
Head through the toll booth, where we pay no toll (is it because we’re foreigners, or because we’re driving lawnmowers?). Drive on. We expect a sign to say Varanasi soon. None materialize, and so we stop again to ask for directions. The guy is speaking Hindi, shouting mostly, but his hand gestures make us believe that Varanasi is straight ahead under the bridge to the right.


1 hour later, we’re in the middle of Varanasi. H2 is still driving. He’s done very well this evening. Thanks to his courage and grit we are standing here in the middle of Varanasi. All the hotels we called so far are booked. Somehow, that doesn’t bother us. We are where we thought we wouldn’t be a couple of hours ago. That’s great.
An hour after that we found two decent hotels. We book a triple room in Hotel Haifa, Varnasi, Uttar Pradesh, India.


It’s been a long day. We’re sore and tired. Grab a bite. We crash to bed very quickly, to have one of the best sleeps we’ve had so far this trip (9 hours!!!).


Distance covered: 330km

Good night.

Post date 17 September 2011

I am writing to you on the 17th of September (today), a lovely day by all measures. But yesterday must be documented, for its craziness has yet to be matched during this rickshaw run.

Day 6:

We wake up at 4 30am. I haven't done that since... wait. I haven't done that, period. Start packing frantically, as usual. We promise ourselves every night that we'd get all of our stuff packed and ready to go the next morning, but somehow that has not taken place on any of the mornings or evenings before.

Leave the room at 5 15am, to start packing our stuff on to the top of the beast and fill up our petrol tanks and tighten the bolts on our wheels. 5 30am, we're off. T has taken to the beast very nicely over the last few days and asked to drive out this morning. Off we go. 10 minutes in, we hit a major traffic jam. T doesn't like it, so H1 takes "she who cannot be named" through side roads and over a bridge to a shortcut which helped us pass about 50 vehicles stuck in the traffic jam.

6 15am: still stuck in traffic. no way through. start driving on the wrong side of the road (which back home is the right side of the road), and squeeze through trucks and vehicles. Mostly, we are forced on to the wrong side of the road's dirt side. This feels real bad, and it doesn't look like its ending. We stop by a rickshaw going the other way. "How long is this traffic jam?", we ask. "A couple of kilometers behind me", he replies. Shocked and disappointed we try to take it meter by meter.

7 15am: still stuck in traffic. We've gotten better at threading in and out of traffic. The trucks horns are getting really loud, or our tempers and patience have started to wear out. Come to a dirt road on the right, pushed over by a truck blaring its horn at us. We now realize, our convoy of the "illegal immigrants", "rare travels" and "Rick Dangerous II) has been divided up in the traffic. I decide to push on anyway. There is no reason to wait behind; we'll meet each other in a couple of kilometers down the road. I decide to take on the septic water puddle in front of us, and splash some around inside. 4 motorcycles come our way. I dodge all but one, with some professional driving.

Post date 15 September 2011
Much has taken place over the last few days. Below, we try to summarize it. Day 3: Started early in the morning on Day 3, out of Boingagon, Meghalaya. First day driving with the rising sun. Feels great. Invigorating. Music blasting with Kings of Leon (“Only Seventeen”). It felt good to be on the road. We’re leading the pack of 4 into the west; our general direction for the trip. 1 hour in, Chai break: our first shot for the day. Many more to follow. The crowds gather and take a look at us and the rickshaws, more at us. It usually gets uncomfortable, but on this day, it felt just fine. We got the chais and then an old man follows Mark, our Irish man, to hand him 70 rupees or so. It was weird, because of the state of the man. He was wearing a skirt (wizaar) and a white undershirt and not begging, but giving money away. It wasn’t right. After a lot of back and forth we realized that he had actually meant for us to have a safe trip, and asked that his money bless us on our journey. Very kind, very deep, very… India. Nevertheless, Mark didn’t take the money, but thanked him for his kindness. Fill up the tank with some petrol. What a corrosive smell that is, and I think it is killing us slowly here every time we fill up our tank. Off we go. 20 minutes later, stop when we realize we had not put on our petrol tank cap. Petrol has been leaking, and the beast sputters and rumbles at 40km/h and then comes to a stop. We find the cap on the top of our rickshaw (luckily) and screw it back on. Amateurs. Drive on. Into a town where everyone seems to be riding a bicycle with tons of bananas to sell. We stop in a little town to meet Bikram, Tariq’s little Indian friend, and buy bananas. The bananas are not the focus of this blog post. Bikram on the other hand scores high for “peculiar things that happen to you when in India”. Tariq, naively, surrendered his local phone number to Bikram when he asked nicely. Four hours later as we are driving into Siliguri in West Bengal, the thread of messages begins. Bikram has told his family about Tariq and he has readily become their main topic for all meals. The brief meeting of souls was, as Bikram put it so poetically, like “rain falling in the desert“. Bikram, the little Indian poet. The road to Siliguri (our stop for the evening) was ridiculous. Oh, and we had to take our rickshaw for a lunch break, because of crazy bridges that we crossed and funny noises. Always funny noises coming out of “she who cannot be named”. Difficult driving, but we got into a rhythm now and we seem to be finding our zen mindset when on the road. Into Siliguri we drove and into the Air View Hotel, where our rooms had sit down potties and a huge opening over our room doors which meant the hallway was part of our room. Good times. Take a quick shower. Drop down to the pharmacy for some much needed shampoo (haven’t used it for a couple of days already). We enter the pharmacy and find out through the pharmacist that a local doctor is a diabetologist. Grab his number from Tanjay the pharmacist, and arrange an interview for the next hour. Dr. Shaka Sen is a local diabetologist who works with diabetes patients on education, prevention and treatment. We meet him at his local office and have a video interview with him about diabetes in India, his thoughts on the main causes, his advice to Indians with diabetes, and his feelings about greater cooperation with the GCC on combating diabetes. It was a great interview, and we hope to share it with everyone as part of our campaign to raise awareness about diabetes, leading up to World Diabetes Day. Head over for a quick meal. Paneer. Pakora. Roti. Vegetable Pulao. Amazing food. Full stomachs. Full day. Hit the haystack with loads still to do, but no energy to do it. Distance covered: 300km (massive). Day 4: We leave Siliguri early again. It’s been raining all night. Our rickshaw top is soft and loose, so it has collected all of that water so we’re wet again at 6am. Drive off. We hit up some beautiful country roads, with a good 80km of beautiful one-way lanes. Hisham S. is driving, and Hisham A. + Tariq fall asleep in the back. Imagine. We’ve come a long way from Day 1, when we weren’t sure where the indicator lights were on this thing. Now the boys are comfortable enough to get some shut-eye in it. The beast has become a part of us, and us a part of her, and whenever she gets hurt, we hurt too. Around 11 or 12 noon our engine fails again, and when we stop we realize our spark plug came off completely. Tape it back on and continue on to Araria where we aimed to have lunch. The Blue Camels arrive and start looking for an auto-rickshaw repair shop, and we chance upon one little 8 year old mechanic. Show him the new spark plug we bought plus the spark plug cable. Make sounds that resemble the beast sputtering and then dying. He understands. Gets to it. Tens of persons arrive to witness this spectacle. 10 minutes, 30 rupees (300 fils), a Bahrain pin and a photo get us a new spark plug and a much nicer “she who cannot be named”. Off we go, heading to Purnia. Tariq takes the helm, to drive “she who cannot be named” across pristine 3 lane highways, “with painted stripes on the road” as Hisham put it. 30 minutes in. Vrooooooooooom – vrum – vrum - …. – vrooooooom – vruuuum. Uh oh. Carburetor we think. And just continue pummeling down the high way, pushing the shaw on, and it continues to impress. Make it to Purnia, our first taste of Bihar cities, is an attack on the senses. Food smells, rickshaws, bicycles, police, crazy trucks and little Biharis are upon you once you enter Purnia. We find a hotel, thanks to some locals we find on the road. Give them a Bahrain postcard and their on their way. We check in, and then take the shaw to the garage for some much needed servicing (4 days in, and 12 breakdowns later, we still need to service her) . One crazy test drive later with Janju the Bihari almost stops my heart as he sears through traffic congested roads with a lawnmower-powered vehicle. Not fun. Later on in the evening, Tariq jumps up like a cheerleader while we were doing a check up on our shaw (tyre bolt tightening, petrol filling, stereo fixing, etc). He has his iPhone and he shows me the IDF Newsletter which he just received on his e-mail. We are one of the top five featured stories in the International Diabetes Federation newsletter targeted at the World Diabetes Day campaign. Make it back to the hotel, to relax and get a nice meal. Join the ‘Illegal Immigrants’ and ‘Rare Travels’ for a lovely dinner, and then pass out again, with much to do still. Distance covered: 240km Day 5: Start at 6am again. (did you know, that initially we had thought to ourselves ‘Gee, how nice would it be if we had a full sunrise to sunset drive one day?” and here we are pushing our shaws onto the road at 6am in the morning everyday. Drive onto the roads towards Begusarai in Bihar, onto a bridge that is built over the ganges. Beautiful she is, flowing like a mighty ocean. The scenes we have seen over the past few days have been breathtaking and no camera would do it justice; colors more vivid than any Photoshop paint pallet. Serene. Even when we breakdown, we take a moment to just bask in the scenery. After that, Hisham A. hits some nasty potholes over 40km. Bumpy. Painful. We then stop for a chai break, or was that before? Hmm… Too many chai breaks? Naah. Not possible. Ask our friends from “Rare Travels” or Duncan of Tazmania, they’ll confirm this statement. Then we stop to add fuel. Drive off again, I smell some petrol. Flashbacks. Noo!! Did we forget to put the cap back onto the fuel tank again?! Get out to check, and yes, that’s the case. This time though, we lost it. Nambi is quickly on it devising a lovely little alternative using the jerry can cover and tape. Lots of tape. Seems like the shaw likes tape, because whenever something goes wrong and she starts to sputter and rumble, black tape always soothes her and gets her humming back again. She is nice, she is that shaw that cannot be named. After lunch we start our 120km drive to Patna, our supposed stop for the evening. It’s 3 30 already. Sunset is only 3 hours away, or less. Nevertheless we stop for ice cream, soda and petrol. Off we go. Much road to cover. Goolge Maps, powered through Tariq’s iPhone, gets us driving alongside the Mother Ganges. It starts to get dark. Rain starts falling heavily. The beast has no lights, and the Biharis are driving like crazy. We’re still 70km away from Patna. What to do? We start looking for a hotel that is close by. Anywhere. We’re tired and don’t want to be driving on these crazy roads. Too many beeps, people, fast trucks, water buffalos, dogs, cows, dogs and other random stuff on the road. Please let this end. We continue this mad escapade for a good 45 minutes to an hour, when we finally find the motel off the road to the left. We’re tired, hungry, dirty and wet. Smiles greet us at the door. Paneer, chicken and paneer followed by 3 chais put me in a very mellow mood. Start writing this blog and as I am reaching the end I realize how much I have forgotten to mention. Distance covered: 275km India is beautiful. What has happened over the last few days cannot be put into words. But what can be, I have done over the past couple of paragraphs. Sorry, we haven’t posted more regularly. Our days have been hectic. Hopefully, we will get back in touch with you soon. Tomorrow we are off to Varanasi, holy city for the Hindus. We will rest a night there and experience the spirituality of the city, and hopefully hit Agra sometime early next week ☺ Adios amigos. Keep in touch. Muchachos love.
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