Banbasa (24-05-2001) till Delhi (10-07-2001)

I had crossed this border before so everything went smoothly. Leaving Banbasa I went straight up into the mountains where it was much cooler and more comfortable. Through small mountain roads I was slowly making my way towards Shimla carefully avoiding leaving the mountains. It was not only cooler in the mountains it was also much less crowded. So I was thinking about rough camping again. Problem however was to find good spots.

One day I found a nice spot: a strip of grass away from the road but... I had to drive down a slope. I managed to drive down without any problem but I wasn't feeling sure in getting out again. So I decided to drive up to the road again to see how difficult it would be.Too difficult as I found out. I lost control over the bike and it fell on its side with both wheels off the ground. No way I could get it upright on my own again and I started unpacking the luggage when I heard a truck approaching. I stopped the truck and after two more trucks stopped I had 10 people to help me. We lifted the bike upright and drove it up to the road followed by people carrying my luggage. There was not too much traffic on these roads so I realised I was very lucky! I only damaged one blinker and lost some oil somewhere.

Driving through these mountains was absolutely great: nice scenery and quiet roads. Problem was it was almost impossible get some money changed so I had to make a detour to Nainatal but... arrived there on Sunday so had to wait a day for the bank to open. This was no problem as this particular Sunday was a Sikh holiday and there was a great parade through town. Changing money was no problem the next day, so I headed back into the mountains again. I passed Shimla quickly and only stopped at the Internet place. From Shimla I took the small road to Manali crossing a pass at 3150 metres.

Tikse Monastery

I stayed in Manali for 2 days to prepare myself for the hard trip coming up to Leh. My main problem was that I had found out that my handgrip-heating (I'm not so tough as I look like!) wasn't working anymore and with some passes over 5000 metres coming up I preferred it to work. I repaired the loose wire. My only other concern was the fuel consumption. With 380 kms. to cover without a petrol station it shouldn't be a problem normally, but I wasn't sure of an increased fuel consumption because the higher altitudes. I tried to get a jerry can but it was Sunday again so the shop was closed. The next day I left without thinking of the jerry can again. I thought about it at the last petrol station 100 kms. after Manali and there was no jerry can to find there anymore so I left with only my tank fully filled up and hoping for the best.

The first pass was the Rothang La at 4000 metres. This was a popular day trip for Indian tourists from Manali. So it was crowded on the pass but once you passed the top it was deserted and I could start enjoying the scenery. A couple of times I had to stop to get myself registered at a police post but for the rest... just me and nature! I enjoyed every single kilometer of it.

Riding on a desert road

The road was so completely different compared to the north of Pakistan. Over there you're mainly following a river; here you're going over passes and desolate plains. Absolutely stunning!!! I camped along the road at a small temple at 4340 metres and had a slight headache because of the altitude. The next morning I wanted to continu early but I had to delay things as it was raining. A military towing truck stopped and we had some tea together.

When the rain stopped I drove over the Baralach La (4940m.) which was difficult as there were several streams of melting snow flowing over the 'road' and I had to drive trough the deep (~40cm.) water for about hundred metres. Tough but rewarding once I was through! The descent from the pass was spectacular and the scenery was changing after every curve. Same for the plains I drove through afterwards, so empty and so pure!! The ascent to the next pass, the Lachlung La (5105m) was not difficult so it left me more time to enjoy the view, which got better after every hairpin. No wonder I shoot more than a film roll a day.

Enjoying views along the road

In the late afternoon I passed the tent village Pang. Here I stopped to drink some tea and wanted to continue the trip but at a military barrier 300 metres passed the village I was told that the road was closed for today so I had to put up my tent at Pang (4535m). The next morning I continued the trip over the stunning plains. The weather got better, and occasionally the sun came out. During the climb to the final pass on this trip, the Taglang La (5365m), I overtook a German couple on bicycles. They were going to Leh as well! During the climb the clouds came in and at the top it wasn't raining but the views weren't good either. The first 6 kms after the top were difficult, as it was very muddy because of all the melting snow. But this was rewarding as well as, so early in the season, you could still see snow-covered mountain peaks all around.

Riding uphill through snow

The descent of the Taglang La was steep and full with hairpins. I thought that after taken the last pass the interesting part of the trip was over, but I was totally wrong. The valleys I was driving through were absolutely great and different all the time. After Upshi there was a good and easy road to Leh. My fuel consumption wasn't increased by the altitude at all. Probably because of the injection as I met lots of people who had really difficulties to get over the passes and only made it with an immensely increased fuel consumption. The only 'problem' I faced was a decreased idle-rpm above 5300 metres, but as long as I kept the throttle open the engine didn't stall. I reached Leh safely and still was able to drive another 100 kms. before my tank was empty.

In Leh I stopped at the first roundabout to orient myself when David and Cheryl Laing, two Ozzies on Honda Shadows stopped and offered me some help. I could drive with them to their hotel. We had met each other briefly in Kathmandu during diner and they had driven the same road as I just did, but they did it on custom bikes with hardly any ground clearance!!! They had faced some problems but made it at the end. They were driving together with Harry, a German biker, who had helped them crossing the passes.

Martin and Harry driving over bridge with prayer flags

Because we all wanted to see the area around Leh, we decided to go out for a ride all together the next day. Also Cheryl decided to turn it into a photo day. As Harry and I were driving alone we weren't been able to take pictures of ourselves driving our bikes. And according to Cheryl these are the only pictures the people back home like to see. So we enjoyed the scenery and had some photo sessions. Driving over the bridge without a helmet, next time with helmet but without sunglasses, then driving together with Harry over the bridge and so on, and so on. No wonder we needed a whole day for this. We ended up at a little monastery with orphans. They found our bikes very interesting but were very shy. Even Cheryl couldn't make them to sit on her bike, not even after 15 minutes talking in to them. When their teacher showed up, who spoke English, they came nearer and finally got on the bikes and they really liked it at the end.

Orphans from monastery on the bikes

We also made a day trip up to the Khardung La, (they say it's) the highest motorable road at 5606 metres (although my GPS showed 'only' 5400 metres). Also on this pass we spent a couple of hours taking photos. Fortunately the weather was excellent: sunny, with perfect views and not cold at all. We had a perfect day.

Harry (Germany), Martin, David and Cheryl (Australia) at the highest motorable pass

David and Cheryl didn't want to drive the same road back to Manali again so the only alternative was to return via Srinigar. Harry joined them so our routes already separated again. My plan was to drive back to Manali using mainly the same road but make a little detour to Lake Tsomoriri first. This lake was situated in an absolutely abandoned area with hardly living any people living around there. Because of the detour I needed to take extra petrol with me so Harry gave me his jerry can which he didn't need anymore. First I drove 160 kms over a splendid asphalt road before turning right, over the bridge were the off-road trip started. Here's also where the fun started. The road wasn't too hard but the weather got worse and when it started to drizzle a bit it got worse as there was a strong wind as well. I passed a lake surrounded by mountains and before the weather got worse I decided to put up my tent here. Except for some shepherds there was no one around. And the view from my tent when I woke up the next morning..... stunning!!!

Leaning into snow

I drove on to lake Tsomoriri which was a nice lake but the weather got worse so I didn't spend too much time there and drove back. I was told to leave the area over the same bridge but I didn't want to do this. On the map there was a road leading from the lake to the Manali - Leh road. So I drove towards Lake Tsokiagar. I had to drive around it and there were two options. I decided for the northbound track but got hopelessly stuck in the loose sand. They were building a road here but it wasn't finished yet and impossible to drive over it yet, so I had to turn around and fight myself with the bike through the loose sand again. I fell a couple of times with the bike and digging out the bike and get it upright is a really exhausting job to do at 4660 metres!!! But I managed to get it out and on solid sand again on my own.

I drove back and saw a different track together with a tent along it. I asked there if it was the southbound track around the lake when it started to rain and the three men in the tent invited me for some tea. It was the right track but probably they saw how exhausted I was so they offered me to spend the night there with them. The three men were truck drivers working on the new road and they assured the southbound road was much better even you had to go through the river. They would guide me through it tomorrow. That night it rained and although some got through the tent we stayed dry. After an early breakfast (They got up at 5.30 am!) I was early on the bike and they in their trucks and off we went. The further down we went towards the lake the muddier it became and it was just a matter of time before my rear wheel slipped away and I fell into the mud. Got the bike upright with some help of the truck driver behind me and mud was sticking everywhere. My left suitcase support was broken as well so I had to tie the pannier back to the bike.

With a river crossing to come up and not knowing the road conditions on the other side of the river I decided to turn around. When I saw how much problems the truck behind me had to get out of its track to be able to pass my bike I knew for sure I'd made the right decision. This decision also implied that I had to drive back all the way to Leh, because that's were the nearest petrol station was, over 200 kms of driving!

Once back in Leh I decided to stay some more days before driving back to Manali, this time staying on the 'main road'. The weather was much better now and so were the views. So it was not as hard as the first time and also I knew what to expect now. So the drive back to Manali was even a greater ride as the first time and certainly much more relaxed. Also I was used to the high altitudes now and it was not as cold as on my way up to Leh. Driving down over the Rothang La, it started to rain and it didn't stop before I reached the hotel. I stayed in the same hotel and the first thing I had was a shower to get back on temperature.

Internetting in Leh was a nightmare. First of all it's 6 times the price as elsewhere but most of the time there was simply no power or they couldn't establish a connection to their server. So the chances of being able to use the Internet were pretty slim. So it was a relief to be back in Manali where there were 'proper connections'.

In Leh I heard that the road through Spitty valley was great to drive as well, so a couple of days later I went over the Rothang La pass again but now turned right, into Spitty valley. And found out: this is a stunning area as well. The road was bumpy, off-road with lot of stones, but good passable when you drove slowly. Also the scenery was great as well that it was a real shame if you drove here too fast and you had to stop often to enjoy it fully. As I didn't expect this being so nice, it felt like a real bonus to me. Especially when I found a delicious 'real' Italian restaurant in the middle of nowhere.

As a part of the road was going close along the Tibetan border you needed a permit to drive the road, but this was easy to get and for free. I made several side trips to little villages and following rivers and it was an amazing area to drive through. From Shimla I tried to avoid the main road to Delhi and found different road down south. Although marked on the map as major road it partly was not more than a track but (therefor?) fun to drive.

After a splendid night on a hilltop I drove through Chokrata where I was stopped by the military. This was a restricted area and how I got here. "On this motorbike!" I replied. But being stopped by no one along the road I got all the way up here. They gave me an alternative route out of the restricted area without have to be escorted by the military. This was fine to me, as it was a nice road through the mountains as well. Although the views weren't good as I was driving through a very dense fog and could hardly see the road just ahead of me.

Before arriving in Nepal I really had enough of India and was very sceptic about my return into India. But it appeared to be absolutely one of my best decisions! The north of India is so completely different to the rest of India. In fact it doesn't feel like you're in India at all, you more feel yourself in Tibet. And the scenery is the best I've seen so far, without any doubt! India is not a place I'll easily return to but Ladakh is on the top of this list.

Once out of the mountains it got very hot and sticky immediately. It was also 'just' 200 kms to Delhi so I decided to continue for to Delhi the same day. There I waited for Marko and Annett to arrive so we could prepare the bikes and ourselves for the flight to Bangkok. The agent's office was moved and he also said things to us which appeared not right later on. We bought our tickets there and flew the same night as our bikes, but a couple of hours later so we could check if the bikes had left as scheduled.

At the airport we were surprisingly charged by volume-weight but as we didn't need to crate the bike the dimension were not fixed yet and we could decrease the dimensions of all bikes in such a way that the volume-weight was less, so they were charging the real weight in the end. We now had to reduce the size of our bike but couldn't do this before the bikes were on the pallet. Here we needed to pass customs first but this was only possible after the papers were made. So finally they accepted our 'fictitious' dimensions (at that moment!) and told us they would charge extra if the dimension weren't correct in the end. They filled out the papers so we could pass customs.

No real problems except they checked if our tanks were completely empty. We didn't want to drain all the fuel as we didn't want to push the bike to the first petrol station in Bangkok. So when they checked the tank with a piece of rope it came out wet. But Marko declared this was because the tank was just drained and hadn't had the time yet to dry out, which was accepted without any problem. Herewith the custom procedure was ended and the shipping papers were being stamped. Not our carnets, there was no need to stamp them, but as we kept insisting they finally got stamped as well. Now we could roll our bikes into the depot, but as it was already too late to fix the on the pallet so they were parked in a locked room. "Come back tomorrow!"

When we came back the next day, the bikes from Marko and Annett were already on the pallet. I had locked my bike so they couldn't drive my bike on the pallet. As soon as my bike was on the pallet as well they started putting other cargo parcels in between of the bikes stowing the empty places, so we hadn't even a change to trip the bikes; which was absolutely fine with us as it saved us a lot of work twice! Finally they put some plastic and a net over the pallet and our bikes were ready for shipping and would leave with the next day flight to Bangkok.

The next day in the late afternoon we called the airport and they confirmed that our bikes had left a couple of hours before so we could leave India around midnight.

Mumbai (14-01-2001) till Banbasa (04-04-2001)

Our transfer-time in Chennai was getting tight, as we had to go through immigration here as well, but still possible. The flight was too short to catch up any delay so we could just make it. After the plane landed it turned off the runway and stopped then. The captain told that they had problems with the steering wheel and had to wait a while to get towed to the gate. This made our transfer impossible as it delayed us for an extra 15 minutes.

When I left the plane I asked the crew about the connecting flight to Mumbai but they told this wasn't any problem as the flight to Mumbai was with the same plane. So we could take it easy and pass immigration, go to the domestic terminal, check in and... wait! Of course the departure was already delayed and it was further delayed more twice and then at around 9pm was announced the flight was cancelled.

So what's the alternative. At 10.30pm there was an Indian Air flight to Mumbai but... there was only place for about 80 persons. The rest of 'our' plane had to take a later plane. So everyone wanted to go on the 10.30pm flight. Because we had to change airlines everybody had to get back their flight-coupon. So everybody had to go back to the check-in counter and you can imagine the chaos there. I had both our boarding cards and tickets, and directed Jeannette with the luggage out of the crowds. In front of the counter there were 300 people who wanted to be with the first 80 people for the first flight. Therefore you had to show your ticket so they could find back the right flight-coupon out of the stack of 300 flight-coupons (at least in the beginning, soon all the flight-coupons were spread out over the whole desk).

We managed to be with the first 35 passengers to get our flight coupons found and so we could go to the Air India check-in counter (which was at the international terminal again?). After check-in we had to continue and simply walk along immigration. Life can be so uncomplicated in India. Our flight had half an hour delay but we couldn't be bothered about it anymore as we had get used to it today.

We arrived back in Mumbai after midnight and took a taxi to a hotel close to the airport. The hotel was way overpriced but at 1am you don't want to go and find something else, and they probably knew this as well.

Our room was full mosquitoes so I slept with clothes and socks on and Jeannette slept in my sleep-sheet. The mosquito's didn't bother us anymore afterwards but the barking dogs outside all night long did.

The next morning we had to go back to the airport again to pickup the bike. The hotel had a free shuttle service to the airport and so we were early at the airport again. The sign on the door said they opened at 9.30am, and indeed the doors were opened then but nobody arrived in their office before 10.30am.

The job was very simple: Get the bike out of the customs storage and pay the storage fee. No paperwork in my passport or Carnet had to be done. But this was too easy. First they had to find my file at the office then it had to pass down all the way down, again explaining what had to be done. Nobody wanted to believe I had to pay storage costs only as normally people have to pay import taxes as well so every time this had to be (at least) double-checked. Then finally they made a paper of the pickup of my bike and again they asked my flight-number entering India. No problem this time and I told them my flight-number. "No, that was yesterdays flight, I mean the flight-number when you entered India with your bike." Aaaaaaaaaach!!!

The storage cost me Rs. 30 (US$ 0.65) for one week so this was no problem. And finally they succeeded to keep themselves busy (and us waiting) for 3 hours(!) before I could roll my bike out of the arrival hall. We drove down to the hotel we had left some stuff behind before we went to Sri Lanka and decided to spend there one night and start driving to Goa the next morning.

The feeling was great: I had a new visa and my motorbike back again.

The next morning we could hit the road again heading for Goa! Checked the tire-pressure and installed the GPS back on the bike but it appeared not to work. Again it wasn't receiving any satellites, so probably the same problem with the antenna as in Syria. I had to fix this later. I didn't really needed the GPS, as it already was the third time I drove this route, so I had no problems in leaving Mumbai. The road through the mountain was as nice as before and we both agreed that there was nothing above driving through a nice scenery on your own motorbike, not even on a rental one through the beautiful countryside of Sri Lanka.

We spend the night at the same place, halfway, as on our way to Mumbai. They still remembered us and gave us the same room. In the restaurant that night they asked if we wanted the same food as before and reminding their 'very limited' menu we agreed. Also we had the same breakfast as before the following morning and when we were about to leave they asked if we would see the hot springs. As we were dressed in our hot motor-gear we weren't willing to but as it was close we went to see the hot springs. It was not really special but the water was really hot. It flowed over the well towards a small river were the waters were mixed to more convenient temperatures. But this pool was very small and so the whole hot spring was as natural as it could be. No big swimming pools with lots of hotels around, and this made it nice. We didn't stay long however as we were starting to sweat and want to be on the bike to cool down.

The last part of this trip, I drove for the third time and Jeannette for the first time, as she was mainly sleeping the previous time. After entering Goa we left the main road and drove to Calangute along the coast and booked us into a small hotel close to the beach.

So although we had a tight schedule the last three weeks we had made it back to Goa in time and had even two days left to spend in Goa!

The next day we picked up our left luggage and back in the hotel we got a note from Poul & Pia, the Danish couple I last met in Pakistan and went up to the Deosai plains with, that they had arrived in the hotel as well. We kept in touch by email and so found back each other again.

Now we had collected all our luggage we had to sort out everything and while we were doing that they knocked on our door. It was good to see them back and they could meet Jeannette and other way around as well. We had lots to talk about and so we had dinner together as well.

Friday 19 January was our last full day together and then you realize how fast the last three weeks had passed. During breakfast in our favorite restaurant we met the Dutch couple Jeannette had been sitting next to in the plane down to Goa. We didn't do much that day except for packing Jeannette's stuff. The last time I met Poul & Pia they trimmed my hair, and got almost completely bold. Jeannette didn't like this at all and I had to promise her not to have a haircut before she came to Goa. Because she was leaving tomorrow and Poul & Pia were around I could trim my hair very short again. Although she didn't like the idea she decided to do it herself as it was to be done anyhow. So she trimmed my hair under Pia's supervision. In the late afternoon we went, together with Poul & Pia, to the beach. We also had dinner together with them and went to bed early as we had set the alarm at 5.30am.

On my way back to Calangute I drove through Panaji (Goa's capital) and on to Calangute. Poul & Pia were out diving and now it was my turn to sort out my luggage and get prepared for the next stage of my trip to Australia and New Zealand.

After Jeannette left back home I had to get the bike back in perfect condition again so I first replaced my front tyre (who did an amazing 37.000km and still wasn't completely gone!), replaced the bracket of my GPS and repaired the antenna of the GPS again (same problem as I had in Turkey).

During dinner with Poul & Pia, the Danish couple with a Mitsubishi 4WD, had a surprise for me as they invited me for a dolphin trip the next day as they had won a prize somewhere. The next day we headed for the ocean and had our dolphin trip and at first we didn't see any dolphins but after Poul got seasick and puked overboard we saw lots of them, close to the boat as well. Coincidence?

I wanted to leave the touristic Goan beaches and headed for a National Park. The park itself was nice and the main attraction was a huge waterfall. But I went there mainly for the road leading to the waterfall. It was a sandy track and with 2 big river crossings. At least they were the biggest I had had and so they were challenging. The engine stalled at the first crossing, but I managed to get out of the river myself. The second river crossing was tougher but I had learned from the first one and kept the throttle open now and got through without any problems. The waterfall itself was nice but not spectacular and full with tourists arrived as it appeared to be a popular day trip. I drove the same track back and at the first river crossing there was a bus with school kids standing there. As soon as they saw me approaching they all started yelling especially when I got through. But unfortunately for them, what they hoped for didn't happen. The last river had a surprise for me. As I was driving through the water got higher and higher. It wasn't that deep a couple hours ago I wondered? I stopped and found out that I was following a different track through the water and now had to change course to get on the right (shallower) track through the water, but I managed!

I headed back to the beach, but this time a quiet spot where there were no hotels (yet), just overlanders. Here I found the relaxing atmosphere I needed to write my (previous) travel reports. This took me a couple of days but then I was fully up to date and red of sunburn. But Jeannette had complained had advised me to work on my tan, so that's what I did!). I also used these days to plan my route further through India. I wanted to go further down south but preferable through the hills as the temperatures we more convenient on the higher altitudes. So I visited Jog Falls, a nice waterfall but the roads to it were better as the waterfall and I drove down south along roads unmarked on my map. Also there were roads marked on the map who didn't exist, at least I couldn't find them even when I asked.

Slowly I worked my way down to Mysore an interesting place to visit but for me also because some Brugman engineers, my former employer, were building up several machines down there. I joined them for a couple of days but couldn't do that much as I got there too early but answered some specific questions of the customer. Also there was loads of tools available there so I could make myself the metal bracket for the GPS-antenna. Did some sightseeing in Mysore as well. The palace as beautiful to visit especially at Sunday night its silhouette was lit by thousands lights. It made the palace a magic place, like coming out of a fairy tale.

From Mysore I went to Ooty (forget its official name Uthagamandalam), a popular hill station, especially by Indian tourists but I didn't like it at all, despite the nice lake. Kodaikanal, another hill station, was much better and much cooler. The best part was the hotel at a hilltop, a garden were I put up my tent and had a great time with a splendid view from a hilltop. I met there Jonathan and Toorna on a XT600 again as well. But after spending about a week there it was time to move on. I took some magnificent roads through mountains full with tea-plantations, which was stunning to drive through. In Kumily there was a National Park with a lot of wildlife and the best way to see it was by making a boat trip over the lakes. I took the last afternoon trip and was rewarded by seeing lot of wildlife indeed. The trip was certainly worth it. My next tourist stop was at Kollam, a place at the coast of Kerala. From here you could make a backwater trip to Allepy. A 90 km. long trip in a boat over lakes and through canals. The trip was nice but not that special as the guides wrote about it. All the kids along the canals were begging for pens and candy but in general it was a relaxing trip and a form of transport away from the hectic of the Indian roads. But after arriving in Allepy I had to go back to Kollam, by bus this time. Finally I had the chance to find out why the buses in India drive like crazy. An English backpacking couple, so much more experienced with public transport, told me to make sure to take the fast bus instead of the normal bus, as it doesn't stop everywhere. So I went to the bus station and a friendly guy told me which bus to take to Kollam. "But is this the fast bus?" I asked. "The super fast bus!" he replied. And indeed on the side of the bus was written 'Super fast'. No wonder that they drive crazy as they have to prove what's written on the bus, don't they? No, then I prefer to drive on a bike myself!!!

From Kollam I drove down visiting the beaches of Varkala and Kovalam on my way to the southernmost tip of India: Kanniyakumari. Varkala beach was the better place of both beaches as it was located along a cliff with nice views over the beach and the ocean. Kovalam was more used by package tourism but was closer to the southern tip of India so that's why I spent the night there. Kanniyakumari was a pilgrimage place (as there are many pilgrimage places in India). As all pilgrimage places there was a temple here, but there wasn't anything to see inside it except for some touts who gave a quick tour through the temple and were demanding money for it. It also had a Gandhi memorial but for the rest there's nothing interesting to see except for its co-ordinates on my GPS.

Steven (Raucher), the South African guy I met in Mysore for the last time, send me an e-mail that he had an accident and asked for help. So after I visited the southern tip of India I drove up to Kochi along the coastline. Steven just left the hospital but that had nothing to do with his accident. He was 'just' dehydrated and spent a night in the hospital. He'd hit the local milkman on his bike and damaged his bike. Some plastic damage of course but more severe was that a bold of the cylinder protector punched through the cylinder head. Not what you really expect of a protector. Steven had ordered new parts from Europe and was waiting for them. So there was nothing I could do for him.

Kochi was a nice colonial town so I decided to stay a couple of days. It was a former Dutch colony as well, so it was nice to visit the old church and the Dutch cemetery. After Kochi I wanted to go up north quickly. After three months I was starting to get enough of India: crowded everywhere, horrible traffic and people always wants money from you. There's hardly any way to escape this all. In the beginning you tell yourself: "Ignore it, it's just the way they are" but after three months I was about getting enough of it. I drove straight up to Hampi to visit the old ruins. It was a nice place to stroll around because the different buildings were quite far apart and it was hot, so not many people around. To enter the two 'main buildings' you had to pay (USD 10 per building, Indians INR 10 equals USD 0.25 so another rip-off). You didn't need to pay this money to see the ruins because their surrounding walls were partly fallen apart as well so it was easy to peek over the walls.

The next stop on my way up to Delhi was Ellora. There were some interesting caves to visit. It wasn't a major tourist attraction so you could walk around yourself. Only for the main temple cave you had to pay USD 5 (again 40x the amount the Indians had to pay). I liked the caves very much especially because you could walk around everywhere. The next place I visited was the Ajanta. This was a similar place but much more touristic than Ellora. The caves and Buddha statues were not so great in Ajanta but the had some painted walls, which gave you a good impression how these caves must have looked like. However everything was fenced off and you were forced to walk a fixed route and I didn't like this very much.

However I wanted to leave India, I didn't go straight for Delhi but made a detour through Radjastan. On my way to Goa I had to pass it quickly to be in Goa before Christmas. It was getting hotter now but that was not a big deal; it's what you expect a desert to be like. Udaipur was the first place to visit. It was situated beautifully at a lake and its sunsets were great. The palace was overlooking the lake as well and was great to visit. The palace was extended many times so there were a lot of different styles to see which made it absolutely great to stroll around. On the road to Jodhpur I visited the fort in Kumbhalgarh, a deserted fort in a stunning landscape. The fort was surrounded by a big wall, which was over 30 km!!! long. The sight of seeing the wall curling over and through the hills was stunning to see and reminded me at the view of the Chinese wall.

After spend the night at a temple complex at Ranakpur I arrived at Jodhpur. The fort was nice to visit and from the walls of the fort you saw why the city was called the Blue City, as lots of walls from the houses were painted in that colour, although it was mainly only the wall who was facing the fort. The palace was nicely located above the city but the palace itself was not as nice as the one in Udaipur. But I guess you're getting spoiled after visiting so many different cities and palaces.

After a beautiful day trip through real desert scenery I arrived in Jaisalmer. Approaching Jaisalmer was stunning as in the middle of the desert you saw suddenly a complete walled city rising up out of nowhere. The old city was great to stroll around as it was not an abandoned city but people were still living there. In narrow streets it was impossible to drive through with trucks so everything had to be carried by mules. In a small restaurant I had breakfast and I instantly felt I ate something wrong but only later I found out I had dysentery. The main attraction in Jaisalmer was to make a camel safari through the desert. I didn't like the way they were walking as it looked very uncomfortable to me, so I decided to drive into the desert on my bike even this meant I had to stay on the roads. The scenery however was about as stunning so I had a really nice day trip.

My next stop was the rat temple at Beshoke, close to Bikaner. In India there are temples to worship virtually everything so rats as well! People come here to offer food to the rats. But it remains a holy place so you're only allowed to enter... barefooted! It brings luck if you see a white rat. I didn't saw one but there were rats running over my feet and that seems to bring luck as well. Lucky me!

I continued to Jaipur and spent there a couple of days as well and visited the palace there. The palace is open almost every day of the year except (of course!) today because it was a holiday. The observatory was open however and the instruments they built there were amazing. For me, the top attraction was a huge 'building' which showed the local time by using the shadow of the sun at an accuracy of 2 seconds!!! And it was already built in 1750! The holiday had an advantage as well as I found out by coincidence: there was a special parade that night. It was a short but a nice one with dressed up camels, elephants and horses and a lot of music as well. The next day the palace was open again and I spent a long time visiting it. There was lots to see but I mainly sat outside in the shadow enjoying the buildings and looking at the people around. I took it easy as I was not feeling well as all.

The next day I drove to Amber, close to Jaipur but as I was approaching this place it was getting so touristic that I decided to drive on. I didn't want to take the busy main road to Delhi so decided to take a nice scenic route. Entering Delhi was no problem at all and even the desired hotel was found rather quickly. Actually I didn't want to stay in Delhi at all but my carnet was about expiring and a new one had been sent to the Dutch embassy in Delhi. Of course I arrived in Delhi during the weekend so it left me some time to visit Old Delhi and its fort. The fort was nice but I liked the street life in Old Delhi much more. There was chaos everywhere and the roads were completely blocked by traffic. I was glad I was walking but even then I had to climb over pushcarts occasionally to get through. At a crossing the traffic was absolutely blocked and a police officer was continuously blowing his whistle but it didn't help at all. Finally a senior police officer showed up and after 10 minutes he managed to get the traffic moving from one direction. This gave hope for the other directions who want to push them through as well. I left wondering how they ever would solve this problem.

After picking up my new carnet from the embassy there was no need for me to stay in India any longer (sounds very negative but it was how I was feeling!) and I headed for Nepal. The western border of Nepal could easily be reached from Delhi within a day. In the afternoon I reached Banbasa, the Indian border town where all the formalities were performed without any problem.

Amritsar (09-12-2000) till Mumbai (07-01-2001)

I wasn't really sure if they would accept my modified extension letter at the border, but the border was just 25 km from Lahore so I could always return to let them sort out the problem. But I was worried for no reason as they accepted the paper without any problem. On the Indian side they wanted to go through all my luggage, but briefly so no major problems here as well.

My first stop would be Amritsar and immediately after I entered India I noticed a completely different way of driving here. Although the way they drove here was not different to Pakistan, both as crazy as possible, but in addition to this were the little motorbikes, bicycles, pedestrians and... cows. So most of the time there was more 'traffic' aside the road as on the road itself. Entering Amritsar was a hell as it was completely blocked with all kinds of transportation. It was difficult to get through as here, but I had learned to be pushy on the bike and show no fear, as it's the only way to get through the cities. There are road rules in India as well. But these are on paper only. In practice there's the right of the biggest. So always give way to trucks and buses, followed my mini vans, cars, motorbikes, bicycles and finally pedestrians. The only exceptions are the cows. They are holy and they know this very well!

Lots of people had warned me for the 'Indian way of driving' but probably as I was prepared for the worse it was not as bad as expected. The first couple of days were the most difficult ones. Once you get just to their driving habits, the traffic becomes much more predictable and so it's easier to drive through.

Amritsar was a real nightmare to drive through as the traffic was so crowded you had to push yourself through the traffic not showing any fear. My advantage was that I had a big bike, which looked impressive and so I got through traffic fairly easy.

I wanted to stay in the Golden Temple, which was not hard to find as it was well marked, even in English. The only 'problem' was it pointed through one way streets. But these were one way streets according to the signs only. In practice it was an ordinary street. So I reached the temple complex and could drive my bike all the way into the building to the dormitory for foreigners. You could stay there for free for a couple of days and my bike was guarded 24 hours a day. Indians who stayed in the same building saw the bike however and started to touch it, reaching over the fence so the guards hung blankets for the fence so the bike was out of sight and covered the bike with blankets as well. They were really nice. Late in the afternoon I went to the temple complex and saw the sun disappear behind the Golden Temple with beautiful reflections of the red sunlight on the golden roof of the temple.

I had dinner in the temple's kitchen (also free). The food was not good at all but the experience was. Tea was poured into cups out of buckets and so was the sauce, which you ate with chapatis (a kind of flat bread). The next day I went back to the temple and sat inside the temple, sitting against a wall observing all the pilgrims offering and praying and enjoying the music which was played non-stop all day long. The complex was not as big as expected but was really beautiful. Outside the temple (but still inside the complex) I sat down and observed people taking a bath. As I sat down people came to me and offered me apples and sweets.

In the afternoon I walked through downtown Amritsar and got completely lost in the small street bazaars. But found my way back easy, as everybody knew where the temple was.

Monday 11 December I left Amritsar heading down south. I wanted to be in Goa during Christmas so there was not much time left as it was still a long drive and I needed to spent some time in Mumbai (Bombay) to get my visa extended. So I decided to drive down straight to Mumbai and only stop over at Agra to see the Taj Mahal.

So I went through Delhi without stopping over and reached Agra after 2 days driving. I found a hotel close to the Taj Mahal and could park the bike in its courtyard.

The next morning 2 South African brothers knocked on my door. They saw my bike parked and they were travelling with BMW's as well but with the newer model of mine, the R1150GS. We had breakfast together and they told me they had left London 5 weeks ago. I used 7 months for roughly the same route (Ok, I had some detours ). They left after our breakfast heading to Mumbai and Goa as well. I changed some money and as I was looking for the bank I saw them again at a petrol station.

That afternoon I went to see the Taj Mahal. The ticket was a real rip-off. I had to pay Rs. 470 (US$ 10) for the ticket and pay Rs. 500 for taxes. What!!! Paying more than 100% tax (which kind?) over the entrance? This really didn't made any sense to me and was just an easy way to make money from tourists as locals had to pay Rs. 20 (US$ 0.40). I understand that tourists pay more than locals but paying 45 times more? But... I had no choice but to pay, as I would see the Taj Mahal. It was a really nice building but it didn't take long see it all so it was certainly not worth US$ 20!

From Agra I drove straight down to Mumbai along the National Highway 3. It was about 1200 km and would take me about 4 days of driving only. The roads were in good condition but the traffic was very busy. Unbelievable how much trucks there were on the road. I kept on overtaking trucks and buses, which was fortunately fairly easy with this bike. Also you had to drive 150% defensively and always expect the worst case scenario (which came true regularly!). So driving was very demanding on these roads and there was no time left to enjoy the scenery along the road while driving.

I wouldn't have 4 demanding driving days in a row so I decided to have a day rest after 2 days driving and I ended up in Mandu. Around this small village there were old Afghan ruins to visit. But to get to Mandu was a nightmare. The road was so terrible as I had never experienced before. Surfaced but with huge and a lot of potholes. And this was a major road (not a National Highway)! But why complain. I was lucky to be on a motorbike so it was much easier to go around most of the potholes, at least the biggest ones. The buses and trucks had much more problems! But these last 60 km took me much longer as expected but I managed to (just) arrive in Mandu before sunset and find a cheap hotel.

The next day I used for relaxing and do some sight seeing at the ruins. They were scattered around Mandu so I used the bike to travel around. The ruins were nice but absolutely nothing special, and certainly not worth the US$ 5 I had to pay. Some of them were quite hidden and therefore very quiet. At the main ones, busloads of Indians visited them and there always the alarm of my bike went off as Indians (but not only Indians!) have to look with their hands. When you respond on the alarm they kept saying that the alarm didn't go off at all, at least they hadn't heard anything. But once the alarm went off they know there's an alarm installed and they didn't touch the bike anymore. So the alarm certainly works, but it has to be triggered (at least) once.

I haven't seen all the ruins, as it was meant to be a relaxing day mainly. The ruins were in that prospective nice to see but weren't worth a visit to Mandu for just because for its ruins.

The next 2 days I continued my drive to Mumbai and the traffic didn't really change, still it was very busy even when I was driving on a Sunday. Around noon the second day I reached the outskirts of Mumbai. But I had to drive all the way to the harbor. On the road-signs the areas of Mumbai were mentioned only so I had no idea where to go. But as long as I headed southwest I would finally always reach the sea. So I got in the city-center without any problems. But there the traffic was completely blocked. So I was in the middle of a traffic jam at a nice sunny day in full motor-gear; so really sweating hot!

I found a hotel, which said they had a parking place, but that just meant parking it in front of the hotel, which was not secure enough to me. So they offered me to park the bike next to a neighboring hotel which had a 24-hour guarded parking (but this hotel was too expensive to me). The 'room' I had was without a ceiling, just with cardboard 'walls' and so very noisy but this was for one night only as they would have a better room available the next day. When I returned to my bike, after been to an Internet caf? I met the two South Africans at the hotel where I parked my bike. They had seen my bike and tried to locate me. Today was Steven's birthday so we had a birthday party that night.

The main reason to visit Mumbai was to extend my Indian visa. It was already about to run out although I had a 6 month visa. I got my visa issued in Ankara and the Indian visa starts counting from their issuing date instead of the date you're entering the country. Because, after I got my Indian visa, I spend one month in Syria and Jordan, one month in Turkey and Iran and 3 months in Pakistan I had only one month left to visit India, which was of course not enough. So I had to extend my visa.

First I went to the Indian embassy in Islamabad (Pakistan) for extension but that was absolutely impossible here. Then I tried there to get a new 6 months visa. That was also impossible because I already had a valid Indian visa. So I asked him to make my current visa invalid and issue a new one. He couldn't do that. Therefore I had to go to the Indian embassy in Holland (as I had a Dutch passport) or in Ankara (where my Indian visa was issued). Completely useless and it was obvious he wouldn't co-operate at all. Two days later I tried to apply for a new Indian visa in my fresh second Dutch passport but I left when I saw the same guy was sitting there. He certainly would recognize me. Later I found out that a Swiss overlander, who had exactly the same problem, got a new visa!

At the embassy they told me to get my visa extended in India but I had heard from others that this was almost impossible. I heard that Brugman (my former employer) was starting up a project in India next January and I asked them to put me on the list of persons who had to go there. So when I was in Lahore I received the invitation letter of this company asking for me as well. This would certainly increase my chances getting my visa extended. But when I entered the visa extension office in Mumbai they were very straight: extension was NOT possible. And my letter was useless, as I was not allowed to work in India at all on my tourist visa. So the only way was to leave the country and apply for a new visa at an Indian embassy.

So I had to leave India before 09-01-2001 and because I wanted to spend Christmas and New Year in Goa there was not much time left in between. To complicate the situation even more my girlfriend, Jeannette, had decided to come over to Goa for New Year arriving 30-12-2000 and stay for three weeks. So I could apply for new visa in a neighboring country:
1. Pakistan, but this was impossible, as my Pakistani visa had run out.
2. Nepal, but then I had to drive all the way from Goa up to Nepal in about a week. Possible, but a very demanding drive (as I now knew from my Agra - Mumbai trip). And it was unlikely for me to go to South India after receiving a new Indian visa, as then I had to drive 4 times through India.
3. Sri Lanka, but then I had to leave the bike behind in India. As there are no ferries anymore from India the only way to enter Sri Lanka is by air. This is an expensive option and I also had to store my bike at the Indian customs before, because my bike is stamped in my passport and therefore it's impossible to leave the country without the bike (except when I store the bike at customs).

So I had actually two options but both of them weren't ideal at all. I also had a huge time pressure as we had to be back in Goa before 20-01-2001, as Jeannette had to fly back to Holland on that date.

I decided to choose for the Sri Lanka option. This meant a very tight schedule but it was possible. So I bought already 2 return tickets Mumbai - Chennai - Colombo. Making the reservations was no problem but buying the tickets was a different story. They needed to see our passport before they were allowed to issue the tickets. Mine was no problem, but as Jeannette was still in Holland and so was her passport so no ticket could be issued. So they only could issue my ticket. Fortunately I had asked Jeannette to send me a copy of her passport details which she had send me by email. But I had it on floppy only. I explained the situation to them and finally they would accept a copy of her passport as well.

I had to walk all the way down to the internet caf?to get her passport copy printed and returned to the ticket office, handed over the copy and then they asked: "Where's the rest?" "What else do you need? This is the copy of her passport." "Yes but we need to check her Indian visa as well as your return into India so we have to make sure you've got a valid Indian visa". This was great bullshit as I had received my ticket although my visa was valid until 09-01-2001 and the scheduled return flight was on 17-01-2001. But I decided that bringing this up would not be a good idea. Fortunately she had also emailed me a copy of her Indian visa but.... again I had to go all the way back to the Internet caf?to print it out. But according to them this was no problem as they were opened until 19.30 hours. I was really pissed off they hadn't told me this the first time but there was nothing else to do than to walk up and down again. But at the end of the day, it was dark already, I had our tickets to Sri Lanka! But it took a whole afternoon just to get two tickets: Indian bureaucracy!

Mumbai itself wasn't an interesting city and my visa extension refusal didn't really help to make it better. The only interesting thing is the 'Gateway to India' at the harbor. For the rest it's nice to stroll through the wide boulevard with their big colonial buildings and enjoy the busy street-live but that could be seen everywhere. But the disparities between the wealth of the locals are here more extreme than elsewhere.

I had to leave for Goa, but had to repair the bike first, as I had to replace the throttle cable to the right cylinder. I had a spare cable with me for the left cylinder. This wasn't a problem as they were identical but the cable to the left cylinder was a bit longer, so good enough for a temporary repair.

To Goa it was another 600 km and it would take me two days. To get out of Mumbai was not too difficult but it was quite a detour, as you have to drive up north first before been able to go down south. I marked the route on my GPS as it made it easier to find the roads when we returned to Mumbai. When I left the suburbs of Mumbai behind the road got very quiet. Although it was a National Highway there were few trucks as the road went through mountainous areas so the (overloaded) trucks chose to avoid this road and use the longer, but flat road towards the south. No problem to me as it made this trip close to perfect. A perfect surfaced road, hardly any traffic (except for the small villages) and a winding road through hills. For the first time in India I really liked travelling on a motorbike as I finally had time to enjoy the scenery during driving as well. When I covered more than half the distance I spend the night in a basic hotel along the road. So the next day it was a fairly short drive to Calangute in Goa where I would meet Gion, the Swiss guy I met in Islamabad and was already staying in Goa. I met him and as it was Saturday 23 December I also managed to arrive in Goa (just) before Christmas.

Goa was a nice place to relax. There are a lot of package tourists, loads of (old) hippies and everything in between. Not exactly a quiet place but it has also advantages because there are good restaurants and it's not as basic and limited as elsewhere in India. We relaxed in our quiet hotel where we were the only guests and explored the neighborhood. By foot to see Calangute and Baga, and by bike to go a bit further. Was India dangerous to drive Goa was even worse. The Indians drive like crazy but they are very predictable. This you can't say of the tourist who rented Enfields and scooters. Their bike handling is not too well and when something unexpected happens you can never predict how they're gonna respond and this makes them so dangerous. Also they think that the Indians drive without rules, (which is partly true) and the tourists like to copy that by doing the most ridiculous things.

But fortunately they stay around the touristic areas along the coastline. But the coastline was beautiful and together (with Gion) we went to Vagatore and took the small ferry at Siolem. Only 4 cars or minibuses could go on a ferry and the rest was filled up with bikes. So during rush hours a long line of minibuses was waiting for the ferry and with the motorbike you could drive on to the next ferry. Very convenient to us but it frustrated some of the tourists as they were waiting for an hour already. But honestly, I couldn't be bothered with it. By email I received the address of the South Africans. They were staying at a real nice place. Directly on the beach and so quiet! It was good to see them back and we had a couple of drinks before we headed back and tried to get back in the hotel before dark, which we didn't manage.

We found a real nice place to have breakfast and the most direct way to get there from the hotel was to walk straight through a place where the locals lived. The contrast was so huge I could hardly believe it! Along the streets Calangute looks like almost like a western village, of course with an Indian sauce but as soon as you leave the main roads you see a completely different Calangute. People are living in huts made of wood and covered with palm-leafs, having water from a well and some cows and a little garden. The contrast is unbelievable!

The next day we went to the South Africans as well because Steven wanted to get his tank painted, a Hindu God on each side of the tank. It was going to be painted by a Swiss guy who lived in Goa for already 22 years. But unfortunately it would take about 2 weeks so I wasn't able to see the results.

In Calangute also stayed a Dutch couple both on an old BMW. Gion had met them before in the north of India. We went to their hotel a couple of times but they were always out. I've seen their bikes but I haven't spoken to them unfortunately.

In Calangute I also discovered a puncture in my rear tire. My third puncture but the first on in this tire. I asked the tire repair-shop if they were able to repair tubeless tires which wasn't any problem. But it was impossible for them to get the rear wheel from the bike. But that was no problem for me! So I removed the wheel and they discovered the nail and removed it, took of the tire and.... were looking for the tube! No this is a tubeless tire remember. Ooh yeh!

But then they had a problem as they had removed the nail and didn't mark the leak so they didn't know where to repair the tire. The tire was quite damaged with cracks caused by the terrible Indian roads so it was difficult to find the hole. But no problem to them as they started to peek and push with a needle in the tire cracks to find the hole. But it was a big problem to me. I would end up up with tens of punctures in the tire so I stopped them. The only right thing to do was to put the tire back on the rim, inflate it and see where the hole was, mark it, and remove the tire from the rim again. They didn't like this extra labor but I insisted, so they did. In Pakistan they melted rubber into the hole to seal it off, here they glued a big rubber 'sticker' on the inside of the tire. I had bad experiences with it in Skardu (Pakistan) but this was much bigger and thicker. It also was their only solution so there was not much choice for me. It took them 3 hours to get the tire repaired but this sticker has lasted so far perfectly. The rest of the week I used to do some more sight seeing, do laundry and work on my travel report (Dutch version) but mainly relaxed.

Jeannette arrived in Goa on Saturday morning 30 December so I went to the airport to pick her up by taxi. I had to two wait for 2 hours as the flight was delayed but I took my book with me so it wasn't a problem. When she finally arrived we welcomed each other warmly and took the same taxi, as the driver had offered me to wait, back to Calangute. Jeannette wanted to spend the first couple of days in a 'decent' hotel. Which wasn't any problem in Calangute and she found out there was one week accommodation in a hotel included with the flight. So we went to 'her' hotel and picked up the bike and my stuff from the hotel I had stayed with Gion later that afternoon. Because of her jetlag (although it wasn't too bad) we didn't do much that afternoon except for making a short trip on the bike to Anjuna where we enjoyed the sunset.

The next day we had breakfast in 'The German bakery' (which didn't have much in common with a German bakery but the food was good and the atmosphere relaxed, so it was a pleasant place to stay) when it started to rain suddenly. Although it didn't last long we had to find shelter in the house as the little leaf-roof didn't stop the rain really.

In the afternoon we went off for a longer drive along he coast and also visited the South Africans again, but they both had their own problems so we left them alone soon. Robert was desperately looking for some other accommodation and Steven was furious at some neighboring Indian tourists as their dog just had killed the cat they found days before and adopted it.

Because it was New Years eve we invited Gion to have diner together and when we went to the meeting-point it started to rain so we were soaking wet by the time we arrived there (a little temple) but Gion was nowhere to see. He arrived only after the rain had stopped as he had decided to wait in the hotel. The restaurant was good but it was very noisy as, for I don't know which reason, there are Techno parties in Goa everywhere during New Year. So also in Calangute, right opposite the restaurant we were eating. After dinner we went to the beach together but also there all the beach bars had installed additional loudspeakers to play the Techno music as loud as possible. We sat down on some beach chairs on the beach enjoying the stars, the beach and disliked the loud music. After midnight Jeannette opened her daypack and took out the champagne, toast, Dutch cheese and other nice things she brought with her from Holland and this is how the three of us spend New Year. There were some fireworks but nothing really special.

After sitting there for a couple of hours we walked back to the hotel and as Jeannette wasn't wearing proper walking shoes she had big blisters on her feet as it was quite a long walk but she didn't mentioned it at all. Only the next day appeared how big the blisters had become.

We didn't do much on New Years day except relaxing. We also started to sort out the stuff we had to take with us to Mumbai and Sri Lanka and what we wanted to leave behind. The bike was very dirty according to Jeannette. I agreed but couldn't be bothered. In fact I had washed it only once since I had left home and that was somewhere in Russia, so that was quite a while ago. To me it is useless to wash a bike because it's dirty already the next day. But I didn't mind if she wanted to wash the bike! And so she did.

Tuesday 2 January was our last day to see something of Goa as we'd planned to leave the next day to Mumbai. We drove north along the coast and headed for Terekhof, in the complete north of Goa where there was a little church surrounded by walls on the top of a hill. To get there you had to take two ferries. The first one at Siolem we had already taken several times before and was quite a busy but an efficient one as three ferries were going up and down non-stop. The second ferry was a complete different story. There was only one ferry and it crossed the river apparently on scheduled times only. Even when the ferry was full it waited until it was time to cross. Not very efficient but very relaxed, in complete peace with this whole area as there were hardly any tourists here. Such a big difference compared to the Calangute area!

From the (second) ferry, we could already see the bright white painted church. Once there, the views from the church were stunning: You could see the white sand beaches surrounded with palm-trees, hill slopes covered with all sorts of (exotic) trees and bushes and the nice river with local fishing boats on it and, of course, the ferry. The church itself was nice but no more than that. It was the views from it, which made the place so beautiful.

We tried to see a beautiful sunset at a nice stretch of beach but the sun disappeared behind the clouds before so we went back to Calangute before sunset.

Because it was our last night in Goa we had dinner together with Gion in a nice Indian restaurant.

The next day we checked out, not too early and left for Mumbai, driving the same road as on my way towards Goa. As it was a beautiful and quiet road. I knew Jeannette would like this road as well. There's not really a difference in driving with a passenger but its much nicer, as you're able to share the nice things you see along the route. So nice if you're enjoying the same things. Although, Jeannette wasn't seeing that much at all. She was so tired she felt asleep and woke suddenly up when her helmet banged against mine. This made me decide not drive too long so we found a hotel early. It was a real nice place, fairly basic but the room had a balcony with a great view. Having dinner in the hotel's restaurant was more complicated. They had an English menu but everything you ordered was not available so it ended up they served us anything what was available. I had fried rice with chicken and Jeannette had fried rice with egg. Beer was not being sold there but they could get it from a neighboring store first but at the end this wasn't possible either so we ended up with tea. (I ended up with tea as it was too sweat for Jeannette and she preferred water).

The next day, our last stage to Mumbai started really well as we stopped for petrol at a petrol station. As we were about to drive away we suddenly heard a lot of people shouting: "Ho, ho, ho". They were working on the petrol station and had made a big hole in the ground. A tractor with a trailer loaded with sand was driving backwards towards the hole but drove too far back so the trailer fell into the hole, still hooked up to the tractor. Instead of getting angry towards, and blaming each other they all started to laugh and got practical. First of all, the sand had to go in the hole anyhow so remove it from the trailer throwing it into the hole. How they got the trailer out of the hole we don't know as we left.

Jeannette was feeling much better today after a good night sleeping and enjoyed the trip much more. At 16.30 hours we reached the outskirts of Mumbai and decided to have a brief stop before throwing ourselves into Mumbai's rush hour. As we drank some water a wheel rolled by at high speed just missing the bike by 5 meters and felt still as it bounced against a concrete wall. We looked around which car was missing its spare wheel when we saw a car had stopped at the fast lane of the highway missing its front left wheel. So the wheel had simply came off and just missed us. They got their spare wheel out of the trunk. Not to put it on, but to put it on the highway just a couple of meters behind the car to mark this part of the highway as a kind of accident zone. The guy simply got the lost away wheel and rolled it back to the car. Lost wheels seemed to be quite normal in India as there were only 5 people watching him and there were about 20 gathered around our bike, so this tell what was the most interesting thing. We decided to leave and found out that Mumbai's rush hour wasn't as bad as expected. Also, together with my GPS, I remembered the route to Colaba where the hotel was and arrived there without any problems. We took a different hotel with a guarded parking and had the last room available.

The next day we had to park the bike at the customs storage so I would be able to leave India for Sri Lanka. Just in case they wanted to keep the keys of the locks with them, which I didn't like at all, we made a basic list of the contents of the panniers although it was impossible to mention everything.

We drove to the international airport terminal and on the customs office we explained our problem. We had to park the bike there indeed but as they had never had this kind of problem before, they had to discuss what was the best solution. It ended up they gave me a letter stating I was allowed to leave the country for a 2 week visit to Sri Lanka (I didn't tell them the reason why I went there!). But the bike had to be parked as well. They thought it was better if I bought a piece of plastic to wrap the bike in, so I took a riksha into the neighborhood to buy 8 meters of plastic and went back to the airport. I had to park the bike in the storage room, full with suitcases and boxes. When I saw the room it was obvious I couldn't park my bike there. They were convinced I could until I took them outside to have a look at my bike. They quickly found another place to store: The ladies dressing room! Fine with me as it was locked and no men would be able to get near the bike and most women aren't interested in bikes at all.

So after moving some chairs I parked the bike inside and wrapped it up with plastic when loads of customs officials were watching (they were dressed in spotless white clothes). As described above, it looked as everything went smooth and quickly. Smooth it went (fairly) but not quickly. My file had to be passed through over and over again on its way from office to the storage room and everything had to be explained over and over again. But at 6 pm (we arrived at the office at 1.15 pm) my bike was parked and they invited us for a diner in the ladies dressing room and they were really interested, especially in the fact that Jeannette was a police officer.

The only thing still to be done was to fill out a paper stating that I actually had stored the bike. So they started with my name, address, etc. until flight-number of entering India. "No flight-number I came overland from Pakistan". They really looked puzzled, as they had to enter a flight-number. So "Flight-number?" again. "Look, that's a motorbike and you can drive with it and this is how I entered India, coming overland from Pakistan. Look at the entry stamp in my passport". So he left and had to consult his supervisor how to solve this problem. They ended up in writing down that I came overland from Pakistan. Wow, how clever to come up with! The also had to write every detail of the bike down, registration number, frame number and engine number but then everything was ready except for one thing: a signature! The big boss had to sign but she (!) was out for dinner. At least 20 customs officials had actually seen themselves me parking the bike there but none of them was allowed to sign the paper. So we had to wait for 1.5 hours for the boss to return and then left the building within 2 minutes.

For the time being we had our share of Indian bureaucracy. Especially Jeannette, as I had already learned what I might expect. Actually I had planned 2 days for getting the bike stored so I was already glad we could finish this all in one day, but a long one as we returned at the hotel at 9 pm..

I had asked Jeannette to bring some fake keys with her just in case I had to left the keys behind, so I could leave the useless fake keys behind, but they didn't ask for keys at all. Back in the hotel we had a shower and closed the room door with our own padlock. When we got back from the shower, around midnight, I found out I took the fake keys with me. So we were trapped outside our room in the middle of the night. The hotel of course didn't had a spare key so what to do? Above the door was a small opening and with help of a fridge, which I moved for the door, I managed to crawl through the small hole into our room and pass the real keys to Jeannette so she could unlock the door. The next thing I did was throwing the fake keys (double-checked first!) into the bin, as I didn't need them anymore.

Saturday 6 January had now become a relaxing day. One we would need badly, as there were busy times ahead with the flight to and visa application in Sri Lanka. We just strolled through Mumbai and went to bed early, as we had to get early to the airport the next day (4.30am!).