Bullet Wallas and Baksheesh

What a frustrating week it hs been. I have suffered lie-after-lie from the shipping agent (channel freight) here in Delhi. I was first told the bike would arrive last Saturday and duly waited for it - it didn't. Next delivery date was Monday, then Tuesday... Many times I was told that the bike had been loaded onto a lorry and was only half an hour from me; many times it failed to arrive.

During this time I have been hanging out at a bikeshop - Bullet Wallas - run by an American called Balu and his Italian girlfriend, Laura. They've been invaluable, not only in providing me with a convenient address to which I could have the bike delivered, but also giving me advice, beers and friendship.

So, I've been loitering in mid-forties-plus heat, for day after day, waiting for the bike to turn up and listening to the agent's bare-faced bullshit. I even went to the expense of getting a local lawyer to give Uttam Sulaya a call to get things moving, which kind of worked. Ok, the bike didn't arrive at 4pm as expected - it was almost 11pm by the time it showed up - but, after waiting six days for the bike to be moved just 16km it's finally with me. Unfortunately, the papers weren't with it as promised.

I took a day to put the bike back together and calm down a bit before going to see the agent and retreive the valuable Carnet de Passage (a customs document, without which I can't get the bike back out of India). He was out, so I got him on his mobile and he told me he'd be back in half an hour. Half an hour later I called again and he said he'd be an hour, all these brief conversations interspersed with more lies. At this point, on the very edge of the lie-limit, I decided to try a more aggressive approach, so picked the laptop from his desk and made to leave. There was quite a stand-off with the office staff as they tried to stop me going - it was one of those 'first person to touch me gets it' scenarios, though it's really just a matter of posturing.

The threat of a big bun-fight, and the hassle of getting the police involved, meant another person working in the office got in touch with the company boss in Mumbai. After a conversation and explanation of what was going on and a threat of legal action (in which I pointed out I would spend the money out of pure revenge and expected to get no return) things started to happen. Dear Uttam met me at the customs office some 30 minutes later and the deal flew through - no bribes, no bullshit, no payment for the late bike delivery. I'd hired a car to do the running around and gave the office lad who'd been with us a lift back. Uttam? I left the lying dog by the roadside. After leaving me waiting in the heat with his lies for a total of about seven hours he had as much chance of a lift as a scabby dog.

And so I am nearly set to leave Delhi and the stifling atmosphere, thank gods. I'm reckoning on going tomorrow, but I have a few things to do first... including buying a drink for Balu and Laura. From what I can make out, they are an island of honesty in a sea of male cow excrement.

Balu is actually a bit of a nutter, if the truth be told. This ex-rancher who now herds Enfield Bullets has bought camels on which to travel around the sub-continent and engaged in all sorts of equally hatstand endeavors, but in trying to run a business like his in India he is taking on the biggest challenge of all. It would take more electrons than this machine has in stock to explain why it's so tough for an outsider to do business in Delhi, but lets start with words like: thievery, dishonesty, corruption, complacency and bribery.

But Balu is set on taking India on, so good luck to the fella. He's not doing badly, mind, as he currently (after just three years in business) has five 'Bullet Wallas'-branded hotels, a ranch, a houseboat and campsite, plus ten franchised bike shops scattered across India (and other places, including London). The aim is to operate with some integrity and it seems to be working. His bikes are certainly no more expensive than those sourced from the local opposition and are more carefully maintained - and I have checked this out.

So, if you're in the market to 'do' India on an Enfield Bullet Motorcycle then I'd suggest you give then a shout: www.bulletwallas.com , 0091-09810902872. If nothing else you get a shed-load of advice.

Sorry about crappy writing, speling etc - much to do if I'm going to head north tomorrow.
Damon

Ride to live

I stayed in Dharamshala longer than I expected - almost fifteen days. Now I wanted to start riding again. I was feeling restless and wanted to feel wind on my face, hear the sound of my engine. I wanted to get in to my riding jacket and pants (D’ told me it is American English you can’t say pants it is trouser pants mean underwear). I wanted to ride on mountain curves again. I wanted to be one with my my bike. In this journey I started loving my bike. Now if I don’t ride for some time I start missing her. When ever I am on it we become one.

I told D on 3rd July 6, I am leaving tomorrow for Manali. I went and I packed my luggage. It took a while because in last fifteen days I removed every thing from pannier boxes. In the evening Raspal called me for dinner and they prepared special dinner for me. He got vegetables from jungle, some kind of beans. This bean grows in wild above 3000m. He told me this beans work as Viagra. I was thinking it is wrong time to have this because I have only one love at the moment and that is bike and this bean will be useless for it. Now it was time to search other love.

I told Raspal I am leaving and he said: “Tuesday is a bad day to start anything." I wanted to leave and was desperate to be on the road. After 10 minute of discussion with him and entire family they were forcing me to stay back. I didn’t wanted to heart their feelings so I decided to stay back.



Today my mission was to look for place where I can watch England in football semifinal without any problem because when I went to watch England’s match in one restaurant, around 15 feet by twenty feet with no windows or ventilation. Lots of people were there. It was fantastic ambience with nice sitting on the ground on lots of cushions. I thought this is perfect place to watch football match. I was enjoying match and supporting England because D told me very clearly “this time in football you have to support England.” After 15 minutes chillum were out people next to me started smoking in small room entire room was filed with smoke. I can’t bare that so I decided to change place and after some time people sitting next to me started smoking joints. I was enjoying game so much that I decided to seat there and enjoy. When Rooney got red card I was so frustrated that I wanted to kick them in same place [the balls] why he got red card. I decided to look for place where I can enjoy my match without all that trouble.

Morning I got up little tiered because semifinal was in India as standard time 12.30 Am it ended at around 3 o clocks. I had hardly any sleep but I was so glad I was leaving and I am going to be on my bike again. It was hard to leave Raspal and his family. I was feeling part of their family and they told me in last few days so many times this is your family and this is your house. Morning when I was leaving they got me some curd and they put some sugar inside. As Indian tradition when you go for any good work they give you curd and sugar. I was touched by there feeling and how they treated me. I knew this is real India they treat people like god.

I started my bike and I was on my way to Manali around 150 miles. There were mix feeling for some time. I started enjoying my ride in beautiful mountain ranges and roads. I started enjoying every curve. When I thought of starting this journey I thought I knew how to ride bike but I was wrong. I learned a lots from D he taught me lots of thing. I will not say he is good or bad teacher but it is very difficult to learn from him you have to be very passion. He will shought and scream at you he will get angry but that is his style of teaching. I am glade I was with him and he taught me lots of things. Those learnings and tips were very useful in mountains.

I am riding in India from last fifteen years but this time it was very different experience because I started from UK and travel through Europe and so many different countries. Now I started thinking Indian driving is most dangerous. They will overtake on curves where you can’t see any other vehicle coming from other side or not. If you have bigger vehicle you don’t care about smaller vehicles they overtake if they see you coming. You have to leave the road. On smaller road they have rights to drive and you have to go off the road. I started feeling when they are driving its like video game and they don’t have value of others or their on life. In person you meet same guy on road side Dhaba (small food shack) they are fantastic human they will go to any extent to help you.

After riding for about 80 mile on small mountain road I reach place call Mandi. Now roads were bigger and better and I started getting mileage. I was going at my speed and feeling comfortable. I reach behind bus I was trying to look road ahead and I saw one jeep was trying to over take other jeep on the opposite side. I realise there is no space for that because on our side of the road there was bus and I was behind the bus. My bus driver put emergency brake I was ready for it I put emergency brake. Our tyres were making noise and I heard big boom. I stopped and saw that jeep crashed in to the bus. I got down and rush there. I saw every body in the jeep were badly injured. Lots of people came there. We removed people from jeep one by one every body was bleeding. We put them in another car and rush them to hospital.


I was shaken by this incident. After seeing every body is safe and after putting them in car I decided to move on. I started my bike and I was on my way to Manali. After accident people realise it is not video game you really get hurt. I reach safely to Manali. I am going to enjoy in Manali for some time and wait for D so we can start are journey together. I thought D is going to edit my article for spelling and grammar but some times it seems to difficult for him to understand it whisky pegs or packs [no, sorry, still don't understand]. Sorry to all the reader for my ignorance of English language.

Pankaj

Disappointed of Delhi

While P is having a right royal time hitting the bottle in the mountains (see story below) I am still stuck in Delhi, waiting for my bike. It was meant to arrive on Saturday, then today - I waited four hours for it in stiffling heat, all for nothing. I also had to cancel an appointment with a journalist from The Times of India, who was interested in how our trip was going. I have rearranged the meeting for later in the week, but what can I tell him? 'I am waiting in Delhi for...?' I dunno what it will take to get the bike out of customs.

It's difficult to actually ascertain what the problem is. 'The customs officer dealing with your case is on holiday,' was the first reason/excuse for the bike not turning up. I'm not quite sure what was going on today, but there was more stuff about the customs officer not being where he was supposed to be.

Now, I'm told, it will be ready tomorrow. We'll see...

It's so frustrating sitting in Delhi with bog-all to do when the mountains are just a day's ride away. A visit from my friend Simon, who was ending a holiday up north and heading home, was a welcome break from the boredom, if all too brief.

It's too hot to do much - today must have been well over 40 degrees and with power cuts for most of the day there were few fans to sit under. Those that were working were powered by prehistoric generators that assault the ears and lungs in equal measure.

So, it's frustration and frustration here, with a crap-load of heat thrown in. P says he's off up to Manali tomorrow. Lucky bugger.
Damon

A Boozy Do

I am currently waiting for D in Dharmasala, having travelled from Wagha border via Amritsar. I decided to go to Dharamshala and meet my friend Raspal and spend some time with him in his mud and wood house in a small nearby village. I know Raspal from last eight years.

The family were very happy and welcoming. My visit was not planned, but I had no problem. This is a difference I've found between West and East. A prior appointment was not needed to meet my friend. They are always welcome your visit. They still use wood to cook food. And it was good experience to seat down on the floor and eats nice Indian food. And his mum told me: “you got bitten by mad dog or what? Why you decided to ride from other countries on motor bike.” I got touched by love and affection.

I decided to prepare my bike for onward journey. I took it to mechanic and he was just looking at my bike. I asked him can you service this bike? He gave me blank look. No expression he was happy to see imported bike in his garage and there were twenty to thirty people out side garage looking at my bike. I understood I have to service my bike on my own. I did cleaning servicing changing oil, checked brake and chain.

The village, Dharamkot, is changed a lot in last eight years. I still clearly remember there were only three restaurant and eight to ten guest houses with small capacity. That time there were some European and Israeli tourist. And tourist use to come here in search of peace.

I visited this place in last eight years for four times. I saw this place changing, now entire village almost every house is guest house. Every body is in competition with each other to make bigger and modern guest house. This place looks like a concrete jungle. There are restaurant all around. They are serving all kind of European, continental, Israeli food. Day and night loud music. Every corner you see field with Israeli people. Everybody is smoking hash, Maravana joints or chillum. Every where thick cloud of smoke.

As a curiosity I enquired with my friend what are this people doing here and he told me they come here and stay for fifteen days to one month and they don’t do anything except smoking maravana and sleep. Entire place changed from holistic to hooligans.

My friend envited me to attend his cousin’s marriage and I wanted to see marriages in mountain, so I happily accepted his offer. He told me tomorrow morning we will go to groom's house. I got up early in the morning and got ready to go for marriage. I came out of my room and Paul’s younger brother guided me to one of the room and he told me all guests are waiting there. I entered in that room and every body was age between 30 and 50 and were sitting there and there were lots off glasses on table. I realised they were drinking alcohol.

I knew lots of people from past visits and they invited me to come and seat with them to drink. I was not in mood to drink whisky early in the morning. I quickly started thinking about excuse and I remember Raspal told me: “We will have chang (local rice wine) tomorrow”. I told them I want to have chang as an excuse to spend some time outside, waiting for them to come out so I can go and visit marriage. At last after one hour of drinking they come out and we were on our way to groom's village. It was around ten kilometres from Raspal’s house.


The local village band were playing drum loud so every body knows we'd arrived. The ladies were walking behind men and singing some local songs. They were wearing very colorful dresses. Their nose rings were so big that entire half face was covered. All ladies went in one room and guys were out side.

The guys called me into room with whisky bottles and glasses out and they got glass for me again. I needed to think about some excuse. I told them I need to get one picture out side and I left as fast I can. I needed to give excuse every time because I knew if you say you don’t want to drink, no body will leave you. Everybody will say have one drink no problem. And they will force you till you give up.


I decided to stay out of that room and enjoy the wedding. Now I saw ladies started taking liquor bottle in their room. I went there as curious person I thought in India as culture ladies don’t drink alcohol. I was totally wrong I just looked in side one lady was serving whisky in plastic glasses. As Indian in India this was very strange for me. I asked Raspal: “This is normal in your culture?”

Raspal told me: “By the time we will reach bride's house every body will be drunk.” I tried to get out of drinking by going outside, but the guests kept asking: “What will you have?” I said Coke and they were saying: "This is our custom, you can't say no," and on and on. Now I decided to have one pack because of peer pressure. I knew I don’t have good capacity if I will drink I will not enjoy wedding but now they were not going to stop one pack become two, two to three, at last after two hours it ended in six packs. I no I am writing this and when D will read this he will understand what I am mean [Will I? What's a 'Pack'? - D]. He knows how I feel after three glass of beer in pub.

Some how we walked back to groom’s place. In lap of mighty Himalaya in spectacular mountain ranges they were sitting don the floor eating ffrom plate of tree leaves. No spoon and forks just Indian way - use your hand. I sat down and for nice food with them and I really enjoyed and cherish each and every bit of it. It was plain rice and three or four kinds of lentil and sweet rice.

Now it was time to take groom to bride's place and poor guy sitting in some iron chair wearing very uncomfortable clothing made of silver and gold and all loud color possible. On his head he was some kind of funny hat. He was looking like Christmas tree and very happy. People lifted him in chair supported with bamboos and he was holding very tight to that chair. I don’t know it was fear of height or he knew the people who are lifting him they are drunk. Some how they managed to bring him till the road. And they put him down and I saw big smile on his face and he might be thinking of what a relief.

I was filling seek and my head was spinning. I decided to go back home instead of enjoying marriage. It was end of fantastic experience of wedding in Himalaya. I am just enjoying in India. fantastic food, no sign language, speaking in Hindi and people understands what I am saying. I rested well and ready for next leg.
Pankaj

Congratulations to Nico and Dan!

A big congrats to Nico and Dan, our Romanian friends from Brasov who got married on Saturday. Hope you had a wonderful day and Dan managed to keep his trousers on.
Love from P&D