An adventure 40 years in the making...
 

Hi all,

I have been a member here for a year now, but not been too active posting. However I would like to share my recent travels here. As I have been posting on an other popular motorcycling site, I will be posting here too, as requested by a few friends.

Below is a short teaser of what is yet to come. Hope you enjoy it. Look forward to hearing your thoughts here.

https://vimeo.com/noshmistry/longroadhome

I was born in the Indian state of Bihar. Today it is one of the poorest states in India, yet in terms of a concentration of mineral resources is one of the richest in the world.

It is a state that saw the birth of 'The Buddha' where he travelled by foot delivering his sermons and teachings. It was also home to The Nalanda University in the 6th century BC which was the centre of world learning at its time. The town I was born in was Jamshedpur. It is where the famous Tata family built India’s first Iron and steel plant. Today they have journeyed worldwide to own brands like Landrover, Jaguar, Tetleys and many more.

Keen to understand how and why these seeming contradictions coexist in the same state, I undertook frequent motorbike trips with my father for outings into the surrounding villages to photograph life as it existed. The seeds were sown. These trips were on a 1956 Norton dominator motorbike which was also the family vehicle where I would ride on the fuel tank at the front, followed by my father riding the bike, my mother sitting sideways with my sister on her lap. Being India, ofcourse none of us wore helmets. Even a commute was an adventure. Once I learned to ride my bicycle at 4, my father encouraged and allowed me to steer the bike for short periods when the roads were clear. Weekend trips into nature were a highlight and we would happily wash the family mule in exchange for a ride. Watching the Smiths Chronometer jump from 40 to 65 miles an hour under acceleration and feel the literal wind on our faces was exhilarating, until a bug splattered against your face. Relative velocity is a powerful force.

In 1995, my father and I rode across India on a restored 1956 Triumph speed twin. The old technology was reliable, but had its glitches. On our first attempt, we had to push the bike back only a few km from home, the engine had semi-seized. Back to the garage, engine opened and examined, a faulty oil pressure spring was to blame. That fixed, we ran the bike stationary with pedestal fans pointing at the air cooled engine. 3 days later, we were off. 1800 km across India, trying to read a flapping paper map at 90 kmph, dodging dogs, cattle, traffic, people and even birds, finding and asking our way across innumerable villages and towns in India – probably the best way to make contact with locals who had no idea of left from right – we had crossed India from the right to the left.

20 years later it is now 2015. Dad has turned 70 this year and we are both travelling on our own motorbikes into the Himalayas for over 7 weeks. Just mates doing something we have both always wanted to do. We will be covering over 5000 km and I will also be taking part in the world’s highest motorsport event – The Raid de Himalaya – a 6 day – 2000 km rally across the Himalayas. Not on heavy old British bikes which ooze character, we have chosen smaller bikes. Dad a 160cc Honda and me a Yamaha WR250R. Perhaps the right bike for me as Yama means Mountain and Ha means leaf in Japanese. The logo for Yamaha – 3 tuning forks - comes from the heritage of its origins in making musical instruments. Ironically the first instrument was harshly criticized for its poor tuning. Undaunted, and starting from zero, its founder Torakusu Yamaha began his journey studying music theory and tuning. After four months of seemingly endless struggles from early morning to late at night, he was finally able to complete the organ. It is easy to see how he came up with the concept of the tuning fork mark.

I will then be riding across from the North of India towards the East. My wife joins me here and we ride into Mynmar, entering Thailand where our 10 year old daughter joins us, then through to Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, Malaysia and finally Singapore from where I will ship my bike to Darwin and ride back to Sydney. I will still be using paper maps and asking for directions for the most part, but unlike riding on the fuel tank from days of old, I will be on a seat and also have my helmet on.

In Basho’s haiku - Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

From trying to understand life and its challenges to simply observing and accepting things in their entirety, on my travels, I follow a simple code - say 'Yes' to everything. It is a time to leave your old self aside. You are in a new environment, with new people, in new places, interacting with new cultures, engaging new ways of thinking, why experience it in an old way? Why not drop yourself and explore where it leads to.

We want our ventures and adventures to be life changing? Yet we want that change to be predictable, we hanker for that change to be predictable. Change by its very nature is unpredictable. Life with its everyday intricacies is every changing. We want to be renewed without losing our old selves. Is that even possible? Rephrasing Basho, Life is a journey and the journey is life. As we all know - motorbikes move the body and sometimes the soul. In my experience, the greatest ‘outward’ journeys are the ones which take you deepest ‘inwards’.

Looking forward to the longer teaser

I'm already looking forward to the next video. This is is great, brings back memories from India.

A short film from an unplanned trip into the Himalayas last year. Lots more to come over the next few months.

www.vimeo.com/noshmistry/intozanskar

4 September.
Landed in New Delhi. The next day was a public holiday as this year it is the birthday of one of the most loved Indian Gods - Krishna. Translation - customs office closed, bike cannot be cleared until Monday.

7 September.
After staying with a friend for 2 days and catching up on some work and talk, the clearance process begins. I expect it to take around 3 days as i am clearing it myself.

Day 1: Bereaucracy at its finest. Submission of all documents i have, but indian customs now require a letter from the AAUI (Automobile Assn. Of Upper India) to authenticate my Carnet de Passage papers. The AAUI has written to Australia today to ask if the document they issued is genuine. It is the slowest office operation i have seen in a long while with an officer who has an obsession with moving around pens, papers and pencils on his desk, then opening his diary every 5 minutes to count the same list of ten names, in the midst of signing on quotes for things from computer repairs to buying a bar or 3 of Rin soap to supervising the toilet cleaners while attending to my work. All while he explained how people forge carnets. My reply was surely if they can forge carnets, they can also forge a simple letter from the AAUI!!!

Oz is 4.5 hours ahead of Indian time so inspite of asking to send an email while the process is on, he insisted on waiting till the general secretary comes back from his 2.5 hour lunch to determine the 'fees'. Anyways, fee of Rs.5000 paid. Australia will send the letter tomorrow and i take it to customs. They should take some more 'fees' with a few more stamps on very official looking documents - in copies of 3 - and one more day, bringing the total to - you guessed it - 3 days. Its how nature operates. Its how India operates, or dosent. Depends on how you look at it.

All part of the trip :-)

8 September

Day 2: The British have left India, but India has not left the British. August 15, India celebrated its 67th. independence day. However a legacy institution left behind which has permeated every aspect of Indian bureaucracy is the phenomenon of – ‘Babu-dom’. Babus were minions/clerks responsible for overseeing administrative duties and the stamping process of documents in triplicate and quadruplet with numerous signatures from the authorities. Cut to modern day India and Babudom has evolved into the ‘way of happening’. Zen is to Buddhism as Babudom is to Indian bureaucracy – the very essence.

True to Babudom’s nature, the officer working on my case from the AAUI had not turned up to work today, and no body of the 3 people who filled an empty office of 12 knew if he would turn up. I got asked to now come back tomorrow. Yesterday I had sent off an email to the Australian Automotive Association with CCs to AAUI to verify the carnet they issued was authentic, and the prompt reply was sent back at opening hours. I tell the lady there the email has been sent and she is amazed at how things can happen… so fast. This officer lady now on my case was attempting to get the required paperwork to show how efficient the AAUI offices are. She started sequencing the 4 blank papers which would be printed upon and re-sequenced them another 2 times stopping to check they were all aligned and sequenced in order of blankness!

2.5 hours later, a peon (the minion’s minion in Babu speak) dressed in khaki to carry around a file – if he felt like it, an always present cashier behind a window, a young female admin person who lent me her phone charger, my admin officer all collaborated to print and stamp a single page letter. I was then called in to meet with the General Secretary who ultimately signed it while explaining how this document was so important as the threat of terrorism is ever present and so many carnets have been forged. Am sure terrorists will go through the system to officially import their motorbikes before setting off on their insurgencies. On the bright side, at least my phone was now completely charged :-) .

Back at the customs office - peons, minions, secretaries, officers, superintendents and agents, agents as far as the eye can see opening and closing endless office doors in a long corridor made me feel like I was in the Matrix – and I was. Everyone wanted to ‘help out’ for ‘very less fees’. These private operators are part of the very system and the ‘very less fees’ is distributed right up to the top. Carnets have been known to take up to 10 days to clear if the paperwork is not in order. I was happy if it would be 3. I followed my file around into the ocean of files around the islands of agents and saw it unattended to for a while, so I picked it and headed to the main superintendent. He was extremely helpful and pressed the bell on his table. Within seconds the magical stamps started appearing on my paperwork, and my file started moving. 6 and a half hours later, the paperwork was complete and I could now go to the Cargo office to pick up my bike. The fee for this entire process was Rs.300.

The cargo office works 24 hours and has a process of its own. I was asked to stamp another few papers and pay a demurrage and extra storage fee as the bike was now in cargo over the free 72 hour limit. Another 2 hours wait to find the bike along with being asked if I knew which cargo dock it was in, a forklift finally lifted my crate out into the open. It was now 8.35pm and I got to work assembling the bike. People gathered around the crate to see the spectacle unfold. Delhi temperatures are around 40 degrees and the heat lasts well into the night. I am not carrying a bike lift for the WR, but the spectators were very helpful and 3 guys helped to hold the bike while I fitted the front wheel. Once the heat sapped their strength, one of the forklifts driving around the cargo block came over and the guy lifted my bike while I did whatever I needed. Couldn’t have asked for a better bike lift :-). Bike assembled, luggage on, I roll the bike out of the main customs gates and fill up fuel from the 4 liter bottle and the little WR bursts into life. At 10pm, I am finally on the road and ride back to my friends place where I have been these past few days. Exhausted, I shower and check my carnet to make sure it is in order. After all this, it has not been stamped by the customs!!! I will need to go back tomorrow and make sure it is stamped.


9 September

Day 3: I begin the day having spoken to an insurance agent to arrange 3rd party insurance before heading off to customs. He calls me to his office. On reaching there, I am asked to contact a private agent who works on my papers. In a system rife with bureaucracy and corruption, even the agent cannot seem to input my details into the official insurance system as this is the first carnet import case they have received. I park this for now and head off to customs, beginning to think is this really supposed to be a bike trip? When I show the carnet and tell them it is not stamped, an officer tells me there is a ‘small procedure’ still remaining and after that I can get my bike. I tell him I already have it and have ridden it and he is petrified, as he is the examining officer responsible for examining the crate before it is released from cargo. In a system with so many procedures, stamps, signatures, documents, photocopies, all designed to make sure goods are released according to an extremely convoluted protocol, I had managed to ride out my bike without my crate being examined!!! This script is almost writing itself. I couldn’t make up a better story even if I tried.

The examining officer then walks down asking me to not mention anything to his superior while he notes down the engine and chassis numbers, compares them to the carnet and the inspection is done. Another 6 stamps and 3 signatures on each of those and the paperwork is finally complete and the carnet stamped. I am asked to sign I have received the goods. 3 days later, all paperwork in order, I now feel qualified to be a clearing agent. Ummmm naah, I’ll pass on that career option. But if anyone wants to self-clear a motorbike, feel free to PM me and I can take you through the process.

I am back at my friends place at 3:00pm and by 4:00pm, load up the bike to head off to Dehradun - a town at the base of the Himalayas - where dad has been patiently waiting. It is supposed to be a 5 hour journey according to google maps, but as advanced as google's traffic algorithms are, it does not/cannot account for Delhi peak hour traffic. Sitting in traffic, the coolant temperature light comes on more than a dozen times and every time I stop a few minutes until the little radiator cools down enough to ride until the next time the light glows. Via India gate, I make my way through the heart of Delhi, its traffic, pollution, madly erratic traffic, embassies, political leader's houses and over the Yamuna river. It is now dark. Coupled with the absolutely insane traffic, stifling heat and choking pollution, the oncoming vehicles all drive with their lights on high and absolutely never, ever turn them down. Riding blind with people, traffic and animals walking, riding and crossing absolutely anywhere they please is exhausting. With a population of 21 million in Delhi alone, not much else can be expected. But then again Indian is not a place you simply visit. India is an experience.

I was advised by friends to stay the night over and not try to get to Dehradun - but pushing on into the night - traffic and people were much lesser, so I decided to keep going. 280km - 8.5 hours – 12:40am I roll into the ‘Mindrolling monastery’ in Dehradun with my mind truly rolling from the last few days.

Waiting for more

I am in awe of Nosh's patience.

Yesterday I took one look at a queue in an English post office and decided to wait until next year :blushing:

Andy