Day 314: Delhi-Zurich

The new day had just begun when I arrived at the international airport in Dehli. Since I could not find a taxi that would hold still assembled Wolter, I rode the fifteen kilometres to Terminal 3 and was soaked in sweat after the little effort.
Arty the entrance they would not let me pass with the unwrapped bicycle until the check-in opened and they sent some ground staff from Aeroflot to convince the guards. To pass the gate I had to deflate the tires of tje still loaded bike before reaching the check-in counter. Whatever... Then I had to wrap the bike immediately in this foil, to make big bulky thing out of my beautiful bike. After checking in everything, bulky Wolter was x-rayed at the big-object-counter. Then the foil had to be cut open to inspect the contents if the tent bag which was wrapped with the bike. After re-wrapping the bulk, for which I kindly was not charged again, I finally could proceed to the security control. The time was just enough to grab a bite and a short stay in the smoker lounge before boarding. But I was not stressed at all, felt not nervous and kept my calm and good humour through the long but rather smooth procedure. I actually was prepared for worse scenarios concernig the transport of Wolter.
After six hours during which exhaustion plunged me in an uncomfortable sleep we reached Moskow in the brand new Airbus. It was funny observing the completely different looks of people in the transit area until I realised that I had not two (as expected from the booking) but ten hours to kill here. I have no clue what went wrong, remembering that the transit time was one of the main features when I was comparing the flights.
This rather small section of the airport I was trapped in was packed with duty-free shops. To my annoyance all the booths selling print-media limited themselves on russian literature, this however was compensated when I found a free wifi. But I could only so long occupy my dizzy self with surfing and I ended up spending most of the time staring on the tarmac. I did not find sleep during the entire time but I found a bottle of whiskey among hundreds and the soundtrack for the spectacle happening outside the aquarium I was trapped in; Mars Volta, De-Loused in the Comatorium. This music did justice to the violent, aggressive and forceful reality I was looking at. The glass-windows would insulate me from all the sounds that would reveal the character the events I observed. From this perspective the starting and landing planes rolling slowly between runways and docks was looking like a weird ballet of bulky objects. But the music bridged the insulation and my dizzy self was transported by the in some weird way re-established coherence between the inputs of my senses right in the middle tarmac. And there I sat, losing all linear perception of time, tired, slightly drunk.
By the time we boarded the plane it did not feel like a long time waited but rather like being suspended in time and between worlds becoming a ghost myself, semi-transparent to the environment and utterly misplaced.
And then I finally landed in the arms of my sister Carmen and in then embrace of my father whose names I share. Now I'm home.

Day 313: Dehli

And after the long bus ride back, I had my last day in Dehli, India. Harri and me went for a roadside-omlette-breakfast before taking the metro where we parted, him heading for the train and Bombay and me going back to Gurgaon, south Dehli, were I found Neha, Swati and Wolter again. Once the wave of over-fatigue past in excitement, I got a couple of hours sleep in a horizontal position, how nice. And then there was still time for another late breakfast, packing the bags, read the last couple of chapters of "hundred years of solitude", lots of discussions, a walk, more coffee, diner and finally goodbye.Goodbye Neha, goodbye Swati, goodbye India. It was a nice Sunday I enjoyed a lot, despite my affinity for gloomy Sundays and the dawn of a long journey bringing about an emotional twilight.

Day 312: Manali-Delhi

The day was spent by killing time until the bus took off around four in the afternoon. I was a shitty bus with a completely destroyed suspension and ever bump went through the spinal cord and propagated all the way into the head. As long as there was daylight, looking out the window was quite impressive. Luckily I met Harri from Whales on the bus. After working for more than a year in Korea, he was backpacking through asia for the last five months. Harri was excellent company and the first third if the trip flew by thanks to vivid discussions. It so happened that Harri is a physicist himself and we couldn't help it to pick up that common topic which neither of us had discussed during the many past months of travelling.
Once the bus was out of the mountains long after midnight, the condition of the roads improved and two lanes became four, I finally found some sleep.

Days 309-311: Manali

I arrived in the morning, pretty wrecked from the long bus journey. Leaving the bus I stepped over the taxi-hotel-agents and decided to walk to old manali after far too much sitting I did not want to spend money to do more of it. I did not come far though, because close to the bus station there was a omlette place, where I got a spicy tasty one on toast, accompanied by tea. It was nice and the guy charged me half a dollar for that little miracle bringing me back from exhaustion. It feels good if you don't overpay without negotiating, it feels like respect.
In the center of Manali I found a wifi-cafe and got stuck over a couple of espressos and a chocolate-ball. I read e-mails tried to find some maps and read a bit more in my book.
In old Manali I found the famous Drifters, they did not have a room, but nice music and tea in the bar. I felt very peaceful there. Then I looked for another guesthouse, found the Manu Temple on the way, lingered and finally, after checking a couple of other guesthouses, got my room with a nice view on the south-west of the valley.
The rest of the day I spent treasure hunting, in old Manali there are a lot of shops selling handcrafted cloths, and there are other boutiques with kashmiri handcraft and a lot of other stuff.

After a good nights sleep, hiking was on the program. Only after a good night I added a good mornings sleep. Then I had a long breakfast and only after that I finally took on the house mountain. The trails were beautiful, sometimes they would cross plantations of apple trees and all sorts of other stuff and I would get lost on the smaller trails used by the farmers to access their plantations. There were no signs for hikers and to my surprise I could not make out a trail leading on top of the mountains, instead I followed the valley upstream and completed a loop back to Manali.
The day ended in heavy rain, it started slowly before I reached Manali and once I was back and under the shower it started poring.

The last day before my return to Delhi was rainy, the clouds hung low and instead of going for a long hike I turned over in my bed. Hours later I started reading, went on the balcony and watched the water dripping from the roof when I turned pages.
I left my room only in the late afternoon, strolled through the streets of Manali, found a couple treasures more and returned shortly before dark. At this time of the day the clouds rose far up into the atmosphere and I got a glimpse at the surrounding peaks of four, five thousand meters in altitude. Crazy mountains! three days is by far not enough to explore even a corner of this mountain range, the side-valleys swallow you and don't spit you out before long walks. But it was enough to find some calm again. The climate corresponds more to my nature. The air chills in the evening and doesn't reach the same high temperatures as I faced last week. Finally my fingers are not permanently swollen anymore.
It was too short a stay up here but absolutely worth while. One last night of sleep before a 48 hours trip back to what I call home, back to the roots, hoping they are still strong enough to anker me, root me to my dear earth after a long time that felt like being a leaf in the wind. These 48 hours to come will probably feel longer than the ten months that brought me here. But before that trip I still got this one night of sleep.

Day 308: Delhi-Manali

A transition day: After a breakfast, getting my stuff together and another breakfast, I took off in the afternoon, taking the metro towards the bus station. Then a short rickshaw ride, waiting, asking around and more waiting the bus finally took off being and hour late. It did not bother me having borrowed "a hundred years of solitude" from Swati, Nehas flatmate, I tried to keep the book steady while we bumped along the roads with increasing intensity and managed to plunge into the story of swamp-town. The bus stopped often and for longer time, making the journey a really loooong undertaking.

Day 305-307: Delhi

On my first day in Delhi Neha took me to the Hauz Khas Village, a fancy place in the center of the town with a lot of boutiques and nice restaurants. In the neighborhood there is also a nice park with ruins from the Mughal empire, really old stuff it is and it gives the park a nice atmospheric touch.

The second day two oncles of Neha met us to have lunch together. Neetu just arrived from California this very morning and Jassi who brought us all together. After a nive meal and a lot of discussions jumping from history, to politics, to cycling and travellling Neetu needed to catch a train at the Old Delhi Junction, so I got to ride across half of the town passing the president residence, the parlament house and the India Gate that resembles the Arc de Triomphe. Once we made sure Neetu and his luggage found the right carrige, Jassi dropped us off at the Kahn Market, but on a Sunday it was rather quiet and most of the stores were closed. The afternoon ended in the Lodi Gardens, another green oasis in this huge metropolis.
In the evening we went to Rahul, a cousin of Neha who lives in the same building. He was kind enough to have us to watch the Wimbeldon final. It so happened that a very old school friend came to pay him a visit too after one decade out of touch. It was a funny evening, a smooth match accompanied by cold beers in lovley company... a perfect ending to an eventful day.

On the third day I lay around like a dead fly for most of the day. With Neha working again the house was empty... a day of blissful lazyness.
After some reflection about the weather, my equipment that screems "maintenance!", budget and my motivation, I finally reached a decision on what will happen next. I was anxious to see the himalaya and took my chances after waiting for a monsun that would not come. Now however the rains will soon reach also the north of the country. It is said to be an irregular monsun this year, but I settled for a round trip to Manali by bus instead of venturing a crazy cycling tour in rough terrain and high altitudes with worn down tires, rather low morals, an almost exhausted budget and hazardous weather. I take another go at picking the crowning cherry, take it easy, give my poor buttom a rest and go hiking instead cycling.  I've gotten pretty home sick these last weeks. The symptom that tipped me off was that my patience is getting lesser and lesser. So back from Manali I will catch a plane the coming Monday, that will fly me to Zurich.

Day 304: Agra-Gurgaon (New Dehli)

Monsun seems to catch up, says the weather forecast. Some overnight rain brought the temperatures down a bit and clouds were reigning the sky now. Over the next couple of days the prognosis was very wet so I wanted to make it to a save harbour this day.
But first I had to replace the rear air chamber, that got a puncture again. Then I caught a bus to Faridabad (not without being played by the bus people, having to unload my luggage and bike from a bus because of a dispute with a bus-guy and ending up overpaying paying the luggage hours later to catch another bus).
When I got off the bus I had a flat rear tire and this time when checking the air chamber in a water bucket, kindly provided by some people at the station, I did not find any puncture! So I fixed the air chamber I had taken out this morning put it back in and crossed my fingers. The mystery puncture riddle I kept for a leisurely day, when I would have more time to solve the riddle.
Then I started riding and before I was half way to Gurgaon, I saw the blackest sky at the northern horizont. I thought brace, brace, brace! and pushed the pedales hard. There was no stopping, otherwise I would have to ride in the dark. The rain transformed the roads in rivers and small lakes. I was soon soaked, but it was actually rather refreshing.
Shortly after dark I arrived at my destination and was kindly received by Neha, who agreed to let men stay a couple of days.
I changed into dry cloths and we were talking over dinner and into the night.

Day 303: Agra

The rhythm of starting the days with the rising sun settled in, so sleeping off was waking up at six. However I lingered until afternoon before roaming the city.
Agra is densely built, I liked its narrow packed streets. In the booths there were shops and workshops of which the later particularly fascinated me. And then there was this one metal workshop, it had been there for a long time, so has its owner. I won't try to describe it but here's the document that does a rather good job. This magic moment had me than thinking quite a while about the life and how its urban manifestations looked different in the places I've came through.
Finally a got a shot at the monkeys when I was using the overpass at the train station. Funny beasts...
The day was cloudy, but the humidity was close hundred percent, a precursor of the thunderstorm that hit us in the evening. At last, rain!

Day 302: Dhaulpur-Agra

The remaining distance to Agra was short and I reached the city before nine, had a lot of time to check hotels and settle in. The prices they want to charge are easily four times higher to what I got accustomed to the past days. I settled not for the cheapest, but for the one I thought I get most for the money.
After relaxing into the late afternoon I went to seeone of these world wonders, the Taj Mahal. It's just a mausoleum with a very gruesome legend, but I was very curious to see the original whose pictures always had been looking very appealing to me.
I was a bit shocked that foreigners pay 37.5 times the  price for an entry. Should I negotiate the other goods at the same rate? And then there is a special foreigner-route to walk (which I ignored)
The first view you get when you enter the north gate is the postcard one. While walking through the park between the gate and the main building I began to appreciate the dimensions of this monument. When looking closer I found familiar details, I discovered in Abu Dhabi last May.
The tomb chamber was very dark and a security guy would blow his whistle all the time if somebody was slightly out of line. It was forbidden to take pictures and obviously people tried, because the did not read the sign or because whatever. Other people would test the echo of the room or shout for a friend or family member. For a mausoleum the noise-level and ambiance seemed very inappropriate to me and I rushed through. The two buildings in red sandstone east and west of the white mausoleum where more peaceful and attracted me more, they offer nice details and interesting room-perspectives themselves. Sitting in front of them one could admire the center piece of the construction.
And for the first time since I left Mumbai I saw other tourists and even foreign tourists!
After a long tour in and around the Taj Mahal, I walked through the maze of shops selling handcrafted goods, the Kaserat Bazaar. They have some really nice statues and other objects made of different marble types, but I would not know what to do with the stuff once bought. I like looking at it, as long as it does not gather dust in my place.
And finally I look forward to an entire day of rest, the first after two weeks. Sleeping off and explore some other spots of the city is a most welcome change to cycling in the heat.

Day 301: Gwalior-Dhaulpur

It's getting harder and harder to get up in the morning at the prospect of being grilled alive most of the rest of the day.
But the highway was on four lanes soon after Gwalior and the good surface and no trucks coming in my direction on the left lane and forcing me off the road every now and then, allowed me a proper rythm  and good progress. But over thirty degrees before sunrise of yet another cloudless day means everything and everyone, not just me, will melt away. Naveen told me Agra and Dehli among other cities in, the north made the news because of the heat.
In Dhaulpur around half past nineI took a break, hid in the shadow and tried to chill. Sitting there I decided not to tackle the remaining fifty-something kilometres to complete the hundred-plus planned for the day and just look for a cool place to stay until tomorrow.
The hotel I chose was very cheap but unfortunately not so cool. During one of the power cuts the still hot air in the room made me sweat like in a sauna, so I went in the outside corridor where there was a little breeze to get some releave. While I was sitting there, all of a sudden a monkey came from nowhere and marched through the narrow corridor and passed centimetres in front of me. we looked at each other, none of us scared, but I was utterly perplexed. He must have though: "what are you looking at?!" and I thought: "don't bite me, wonderous creature!". When he reached the stairs he jumped on the handrail, sat there a moment before jumping on a window awning and from there in a fluid, effortless movement he reached the roof where he had come from.

Day 300: Shivpuri-Gwalior

Sunrise barley started when I hit the road with an empty stomach. I counted on finding a breakfast place on the roadside, but ended up only with tea and water. Around nine, four hours later I stopped under a tree to cool down a bit, feeling dizzy. A couple of minutes later, it wasn't getting better, a guy from the temple across the road spotted me and waved me over. He pointed out that I, could lie down in front of the temple in the shade and then went about his prayers in a small pavilion standing opposite the temples door. Some men sitting on the steps of the temple pored me water to wash myself and then offered me tea. I sat down against a pillar and sipped tea with these three man who were about to prepare a chillum. It was very peaceful there with a little breeze easing the heat. For once I was not bothered with the same questions and they just let me rest and so I dozed off blissfully for almost an hour. The music and the muttered prayers grew distant and came back again.
My stomach was grumbling and so I did a couple of kilometres more before midday to reach the next truck-stop. And there I killed some six hours untli the sun was low enough to continue. However it takes the entire night to cool down the air a couple of degrees, the remaining fourty-something kilometres were hard and one more time I dropped completely exhausted in a bed somewhere in Gwalior.

Day 299: Guna-Shivpuri

I The drama from yesterday repeated itself, a cloudless sky. This time I pushed hard to get as far as possible in the bearable morning hours. I only took short brakes and did good progress until a thorn punctured my front tire.
I barely started fixing the mess, when already a crowd had gathered around me, commenting, giving unasked advice or cracking jokes as they watched enjoyed the show. I fixed the puncture, which was big, thus easy to find. Then, ready to take off, I noticed the air was still escaping. So I took of the paniers again, turned Wolter upside down, took off the wheel and replaced the air chamber by the spare one this time. It turned out that it wasn't properly fixed last time, but I only found out when I was ready to go again. And and so I started over again. Some of the spectators were kind enough to organize a bucket of water. Being more thorough I checked both air chambers in the water. I found out that the thorn had pierced through the entire air chamber and also made small punctures on the other side. I fixed those as well as a smaller puncture in the badly fixed spare tube. I triple checked the tire for any piercing object but still did not find anything more than the thorn I pulled out the first time. Once this whole exercise was over I put everything back together for the third time and I was about to attach the last panier, when one guy noticed laughing that there was still air escaping. At this point I lost it and shouted pretty much the entire repertoire of swiss-german curses. The circle of people around me became silent and drew a meter away. Then I started over for the fourth time. One of the patches I put earlier appeared to be punched, no clue how that could have happend so I also checked the rim without finding the cause. Not wanting to take anymore chances I replaced the tire and checked the spare air chamber in the bucket full of water again before putting it in.
A good hour had passed by now and the painless cycling time was over already, the burning sun reining the sky. I went on for as long as I could and then made a long lunch break. At three I tried again, some clouds gathered and gave me hope that I can advance a couple of kilometres. But the clouds were soon dissolved and I felt myself like evaporating. Today the wind came mostly from north and with the hot air in the face (passing trucks would thrust even hotter air-cushions from their overheated motors at me) and the sun on my head I just waited that the devil would jump out behind a bush and greet me in his kingdom. Jokes appart, the traffic and weather situation had gotten worse continuously starting from very bad once I was fifty kilometres away from Ujjain. I am just counting down the days to arrive in Agra.
After Iran, where I my continuous cycle-trace got a huge gap, I told myself that from now on I could cherry-pick the rides, but this wasn't the sweetest pick here. But I had to try, knowing that a missed opportunity like this would haunt me forever. However off-season cycling in India is not really a god idea. It was pointed out to me now I know it for sure. For those who plan to cycle in India, go between October (after monsun) and the early months of the year, temperatures are lower and everything ist green.
Well, while these thoughts crossed my mind I was dragging myself to Shivpuri, arrived shortly before dark and was completely exhausted. Two more cycling-days to Agra...

Day 298: Biaora-Guna

Not a very bright day that was, as a figure of speach, and it was so because it was too bright. By ten the clouds were gone and the sun had heated up the soil, provoking these hot west-wind that hit me sideways and took my breath away.
But I did not want to spend six hours until four doing nothing, so I kept fighting until twelve and started fighting again at two.
When I arrived in Guna I hid in my hotel room for the rest of the day. I don't deal well with the heat and find it as bad and even worse than minus degrees.

Day 297: Ujjain-Biaora

I woke up shortly before sunrise and wondered why it was so dark. After getting up it turned out to be a cloudy day, excellent! After a couple of incredibly hot days this was most welcome and I started cycling in the gray of the mornig on a nice road with little traffic, a couple of raindrops falling from the sky. Two hours later I was back on the highway, only that here it had only two lanes and consequently it was crowded. I found myself cursing a lot and making rude gestures to truck drivers that made perilous overtaking manoeuvres. The overloaded trucks went too fast and when making narrow curves the weight would push them almost sideways putting heavy torsion on the chassis and the wheels.
At one of my water stopps a women came by with a flat basket and showed me its content for a fraction of a second it was enough to see that it was a cobra, quite intimidating. She asked me to put a little something on top and so I did. At another snack stop a guy with a book in his hand portrayed Wolter, he moved his closed pen in all directions over the cover of his book without leaving any trace though, in between frantic strokes he would put his right hand to his ear and talk... with nobody around him, but maybe with a god. When he was finished, he opened his book in front of my eyes and there was... no, not a picture of Wolter but a couple of small bills and he asked to make them more and merrier. This time I refused, he insisted, I refused and back and forth until he asked for a tea instead, that was fine with me.
Concernig Wolter, he gets the better of peoples attention these days, they study him intently, point details out to each other and later ask me a couple of questions. Interestingly they always remark the charger for the phone powered by the dynamo-hub, many people who ride modern bicycles themselves often didn't.
It was a long days cycling and I only snacked and rode over midday, the clouds shielding the sun that never the less managed to heat up the road so I felt the warm air rising. Shortly before Biaora the clouds gave way after all and the last twenty kilometres were hell and I had to take many stopps to pour water over myself to help me stay in the margin of healthy body-temperatures. I found myself a cheap hole to sleep in, showered, ate, washed a minimum of cloths and dropped into the well deserved bed.

Day 296: Indore-Ujjain

I got up and thought that I could do with another day of rest, but after forcing myself to get on the road it was fine. The fact that it was a rather short ride ahead helped. Shortly before my destination I had to blink a couple of times before I trusted my eyes, but indeed, there was and elephant walking on the side of the road. I overtook it and stopped to take a picture, the elephant-walla stopped and invited me to touch the giant. Amazing this creature! Then of course he wanted that I value his effort, I gave him twenty, he was not so happy and said something ganipatti (another name for god ganesh?) and said it should be worth fifty at least, I gave him the fifty with a large grin, how can you argue when he pulls the hammer argument of gods and stuff.
After three intense hours with lateral/headwind I arrived in, the holy city. It took me a while before I found a bed in a Guesthouse, but it is brand new super clean, nice and quite affordable.
In the afternoon I was wandering around the city and visited the temple neighbourhood, where amongst many others there is the famous Mahakaleshwar Temple dedicated to Shiva. I liked the promenade along the green Shipra river best, with its little temples and the red rooftops around, a very colorful scene with a particular atmosphere.
The sun was barely down when I hit the pillow, I think I am finally in tune with the rhythm of the sun.

Day 295: Mhow-Indore

I got and early start, but I lost time crossing Indore and decided to take half a day to recover. So I found myself a nice cheap hotel and stayed in the room most of the day, chilling, eating, watching tv... sweet nothing...

Day 294: Julwania-Mhow

This time I got it right and got up at sunrise (5:30) and started cycling half an hour later. It was calm, less wind and the rising sun was mild. Another half an hour I found a breakfast place along the road, they had no omelettes but served something that they call "rice", at least that's how it sounds to me. But I got no clue what it is, maybe some kind of grain with a lot of spices. It comes on a piece of newspaper with a tea-spoon and some crackers pored over it. It was a bit heavy on my stomach but, surly better than nothing.
After a long hydrating break I tried to continue a good bit but shortly past ten I felt like dying from the heat. So I dragged myself to the next truck stop, where I pored some water over my head. It was really strange having dry skin in this heat. this time I was not sure if I'm not able to sweat properly or if it really evaporated so quickly.
When I was drinking hot tea, I felt life coming back to me.
After lunch it was a big fight, the sun was strong until five, I took off at four and I was cooked after half an hour and just dragged myself to Mhow. The highlight of the day was the spotting of monkeys, sitting in the of the rocks close to a small pass. It was the first time that I saw free monkeys.

Day 293: Dahivad-Julwania

After sleeping off Bravin took me back to the his hotel at the highway. We had tea and a photo session before it was time to say our goodbyes.
Today the sun was strong and after taking off around eleven, I did not get very far before the heat stopped me. I hid in a truck stop during a couple of hours around midday. and followed the motto of moving as little as possible. God it was freaking hot. The crowd at the truck stop was a cool one, quite curious but leaving me my space as they gathered round one smoked some ganja through his conical clee pipe (chilum) others were eating, some timid questions were asked in broken english or simple marathi where I could guess which of the three usual questions it was and of course there were a lot of open stares. From the looks on some faces I guess that they hadn't seen many white, dark-blond, blue-gray-eyed people so far. But I felt very comfortable and the older men were looking out for my wellbeing and sometimes teamed the youngers childish and uncontained curiosity (exploring with all senses if possible, especially by touching).
At three I was back on the road and it was still freaking hot. the wind grew stronger and without any cloud in the sky I was glad I the came sometimes at an angle from behind so it would cool me a bit down. Every seven kilometres I drank one liter and the skin remained dry!
After the small climb it went downhill again, the road turned for the perfect tailwind and yeah baby! Wolter positively flew on this highway giving its curves the smoothest touch with his tenderly humming tires (see yesterdays post for ref.)
Todays trip ended in a village, just big enough to have a three room guesthouse with exactly one guest, me... When I roamed the dusty dark streets here to find some food I had a glimpse at its late eavening busyness. Every male individual around here seems to be chewing on some tabacco or betel nut or whatever, also guys that looked to me like teenagers. Next to the tabacco-store there was a dirty guy crouching over his bag and preparing a chillum with utmost care. Just beside him sat a group of very intimidating, elegantly and impeccably white-dressed men on two opposite benches. They looked like the owned this entire place. Among these gentleman sat a boy who earlier gave me directions to the guesthouse. The ambiance is quite hard to describe, but its very different from everything. Life seems to have its own pace and its own mechanics here. I felt very out of place or rather exposed (not that anywhere else I haven't been the foreigner on first sight) but here it seems to me that I am so fucking alien, being from swizzi-what?... where?... but most importantly why?
This is planet india and I am glad to have come so far.

Day 292: Maleganon-Dahivad

Spain won and I was glad that no extra time was played because as it was I only managed to hit the road after ten. but it was a clouded windy day with a bit of rain and I could cycle without any problems. The wind is quite amazing blowing me steadily north - the monsun-express. in Duhle I made a quick stop to restock. The first crowd that gathered was too much in my face and I left swiftly before too many people would block the way. One guy grabbed a a bag and tried to hold me back, I shouted at him: "don't touch" and he let go.
Later I had to pay some prayer taxes, collected by some young men on the street. This way I learned that there are two sai babas, one who lived until the beginnig of last century and who is venerated as god and the one I already knew who died one year ago. The ten rupies were collected in the name of the first holy man.
When I was about to think that there are no metal threads on indian roads I got a puncture in the front tire and a twenty kilometres later I got three punctures in the rear one. What a malicious road... Four metal threads and one thorn. Besides the highway also communicates in short messages; "go smoothly on my curves!" or "stop the accident before it stops you!". On the other hand the "horn ok please" thing, that is written on almost every cargo vehicle and in all possible combination of letters which still allow to understand the meaning, leave me with a big question mark still.
During the entire day people on motorcycles would ride along for a bit and ask the usual question ("what's your good name?") or try to talk to me in hindi or marathi. It ended often with them wishing me a happy journey, which I find really cool, forget about safty, just be happy. Most of the time it was ok but sometimes in traffic situations that needed all my attention, it was a bit too much if somebody wants to talk with you on top of that.
In the eavening I stopped at some place with a hotel sign, but during this day I realized that many places calling themselves hotel were quite different from what I expected. So was this one, it was a restaurant-bar and when I asked for a room they informed me that they don't have any. A guy working there speaking fluent english introduced himself as Bravin and he seemed determined to find a solution for me. He was a nephew of the owner of the place and arrived only two weeks ago to work in the hotel. First I asked if I could camp in the backyard, "no problem" came the answer. While looking for a suitable spot some of the waiter that sleep in the building voiced some concerns about raiders. Then I, was offered the only sleeping room of the building, which I could not accept because the idea of taking the most wanted sleeping spot away from somebody else made me feel very uncomfortable. Finally the manager made a phonecall and organised a place in a nearby village where Bravin stayed himself.
Bravin really went out of his ways, took the night early off so I could sleep at a reasonable hour (for me) and he kept me company when I fixed the holes of the spare air chamber and the ones of the rear tire I overlooked. It's always nice to have someone to talk to after all my conversations were barely more than the answer to the question "where are you from" (country! country?) for the last three days.

Day 291: Nashik-Maleganon

I could not get out of bed this mornig, it was too cosy, not too hot for a change, so I slept some 12 hours in a row. Once I got up around midday the sun was too strong for cycling, instead I took a walk through the city. I found a new baseball cap (the last one did not survive the last laundry and fell appart) and drank coconut water. This stuff always makes me feel like popay after he ate his spinach. The entire city seemed to greet me with shouts, nods, wavings and the school-kids toppled over each other to do handshakes. An old man wrapped in white cloth and a walking stick stopped in his stride, fixed me with his intense stare and gave me the indian lateral head nod with a sincere smile. I smiled back giving him the european nod and felt very honoured.
I think one could write a book about indian nods, when their applied and what they mean. Wagging the left and right is the I-hear-you-whatever-nod, it can mean yes, but I hear you is more general. Malou and Naveen had vivid discussions about this gesture that were funny and confusing at theu same time. I remember when Anil came as a guest-scientist to our lab in Dresden, he would do this while I was talking to him all the time and after initial irritation I interpreted it as yes, but subsequent actions led me to believe that it can't be (only) that. The rickshaw drivers have their hop-in-nod when they jerk their head in a rotational movement to the left. This nod can be easily mistaken the european-no-head-shake. My favourite one is the one I got from the old man today. It's a single tilt to the right and back (no turning). The hi-I-am-cool-with-you-nod. By answering with the same gesture you say; hi, we're cool. This last one I only figured out by reading Shantaram.
At three p.m I hit the road nice road today was more down than up, in very good condition and an amazing tailwind accelerated things considerably. At eight, shortly after dark my fast cruise with a couple of really nice landscape views ended in Maleganon. I checked for a room in a resort. The boss himself sat outside after an answer I did not quite understand but which sounded more as a no than a yes a small crowd had gathered. They asked questions, checked the pressure of my tires or just observed. At some point I was asked about my motivation to travel so far with a bicycle. That's a rare one, so rare that I can't remember being asked during one of these many short encounters. I gave my best explaining in simple english supported by sign language. I said in simpler phrases and words that I want to see the world with my own eyes, rather than just hear stories, read travel-blogs or news papers. Then I gave him the example of Iran and you always hear about politics and people tend to forget about the people of a country. I don't like the government of Iran much but then it governments make it generally hard to like them, however the people in Iran are good and they make it hard or won't even allow to make theu connection between them and their government and its politics. The boss seemed very satisfied with my answer giving nodding (not wagging his head) once I made my point. There was talk between them and his staff and I only picked up a word resembling complete, but I got the impression that he would have helped if he could. Before we parted the boss indicated me the way to another hotel.
Here they told me what I heard yesterday also a couple of times, that thei only have then a-c deluxe suite free, in other words then most expensive room, that costs three times as much as a basic room. I made a bit of drama but then receptionist said that that would be all they have left, so I said that I wanted to see it. When he opened the key drawer I mentioned that there would be an awful lot of keys for an almost complete hotel, there he just glared at me. I took a look at the luxurious suite acknowledged that it is indeed beautiful but not my price range. After some more drama the found a room in a lower class, finally I could knock a bit of the price and took the room. And unexpectedly I got to see some eu-championship on tv, a nice finish.