The Land Where Might is Right

Still struggling with my cold I decided to lay low and skip the first day’s ride. At least I wasn’t the only one to beg off. Another member of the group who was suffering from tummy troubles, (this hit seven of us, including me - go figure!) opted for porcelain as a perch instead of his bike saddle.

My mood that morning wasn’t very cheery. It didn’t help that the day before we were handed a sheet of paper that said “ …. it’s not uncommon for bicycles and motorbikes to ride in the wrong direction! And you have to make allowances for this. Rule number 2, there is a pecking order with cows at the top, then large trucks and buses, working its way down through old vehicles then new vehicles to dogs and chickens with cyclist and pedestrians at the bottom. As a cyclist you pretty much have to give way to everything”

Oh great! Why didn’t the Exodus Trip notes include that essential bit of information? How could this have escaped their attention? Didn’t they think it was important? Was someone asleep at the switch? However, I pushed these questions aside and blamed my reaction on my cold.

Al went riding.

When he returned, his reaction - as well as that of another rider who simply said in quizzical tones: “That was interesting” - was telling. The first ride was to get the group used to traffic and I guessed that neither of them liked it. Apparently the notes about traffic were accurate! Although the vast majority of the ride was in the country, the kilometres that weren’t were nerve racking. Al thought that cycling in Indian traffic was nuts! (Don’t forget that we have cycled in Korea and in Indonesia but nothing like this.)

Still, Al managed to take a few good pictures along in the countryside. I was jealous because my new camera was still untried.

But I was determined that I would ride the next day, after all the Exodus Trip notes stated: Riding from the hotel, we share the quiet back roads with herds of white oxen and women in colourful saris carrying water pots on their heads, as we head to the important pilgrim centre of Nanjangud, with its beautiful temple. Another 36km along is lunch and your first taste of Thali - the southern Indian meal of rice and vegetable curries. After lunch we leave the plains for the forested foothills of the Western Ghats (hills), once the hunting preserve of Mysore's Maharajas, today a tiger reserve and part of Bandipur National Park. In the late afternoon we have a jeep safari in the park.

Positively charming, romantic, idyllic - I thought. Surly the second day was the worst. The rest would be lovely. The ‘might is right’ omission was just an over sight. I was reassured and invigorated ……. and I was wrong.

Next posting -  Gas Masks and Bandages 

Day 1 - Socks and Superstitions

This blog is now a collaborative effort with Al. It is dismaying that I have no clear memory of  events. You will soon see why.

 Let me see... where was I.... oh yes, we had just finished breakfast. But before I pick up from there I need to go back to Christmas in Canada. Sorry if this is dizzying, but the flow of things isn’t neat.

Looking over what we would need for the trip we realized that we both needed at least one extra pair of cycling socks. Al had the bright idea of asking our son to give them to us for Christmas. Christmas socks what could be more perfect, he thought. Well, things didn’t quite work out that way. Christmas morning came, as did our son sans socks. However he promised to bring them the next day when he returned. He returned alright, but without the socks – they were on his kitchen table, he explained. The day before departure, Al who was about to gave up hope of seeing the socks called our son who, with great effort, no doubt, brought them over. Only later did the significance of this forgetfulness come to mind. It was an omen.

Lunch was just around the corner from our hotel. It was in a cramped, unadorned, busy, loud place that seemed to be very popular with the locals. We were definitely the center of attention being tourists. Had it not been for our guide to order for us and show us how to eat, we would have been at a miserable loss. All in all this was probably the best traditional fare we sampled.

From there it was short walk to a sprawling out door market. Other than the vendors who would approach, follow and relentlessly press you to buy their trinkets, it reminded us of similar markets we had been through in Korea. The place was interesting, and we would have liked it if not for that.

And then we were back to the hotel, under a bright and burning sun, numbed by the cacophony of horns from a terror of traffic. Crossing the street means taking your life in your hands. And then …… holly cow! Literally.

There on the sidewalk, blocking our path was a big black cow. Our guide stopped, seemingly uncomfortable and not sure what to do. Within a minute or two one of our group come up to the cow, gently pushed its head to the side, and we passed by in front.

It would be more than a month before Al made the connection. In North America there is a superstition about black cats. In India the version is black cows!

More to follow

DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES

I am alive and back in Canada.  Sounds dramatic, but this has been a dramatic year so far.  I suppose the best place to begin is at  the beginning.

As you know I had been training for our cycling trip to India and was ready for the challenge.  I even got a new camera for the occasion.  However, as the date drew close things began to go wrong. Maybe the cold I caught two days before departure thanks to our beautiful grand-daughter was a portent. However not knowing that and therefore undaunted- and with a good supply of cough syrup- I  boarded the plane.

The flight was long and uneventful,  although if you want Al's opinion he was frustrated with the stewards constantly bashing into his aisle seat with their carts and interrupting his sleep.  And then there was the man sitting in front of him who had a chronic problem with gas. Al hates flying poverty class.

New Year's eve was toasted with a glass of sparkling wine at an altitude of 11,277 m , flying at 888 k/h over India.   We arrived in Bangalore in good spirits and waited an hour for members of our group from England to at 3:00 am.



Because the van ride to Mysore was in the middle of the night it was cold, and it did not help that the windows would not close.  The pollution did not help my lungs and I spent the majority of time in coughing spasms. And it was bumpy (shock absorbers would have been nice as the roads are NOT the best). The constant jarring and jolts to the kidney each time we flew over speed bumps was an adventure in misery - I won't even go into the added effects of the broken seats.  Like you, I am familiar with speed bumps in parking lots however in India they were placed where ever, and not just one bump, but four in an row with only a few inches between - a sadistic washboard. And sleep forget it. The constant honking of horns in insane traffic made that impossible. It was best to give up trying to sleep and just keep the eyes closed.  No surprise, moods were not the best upon arrival at the hotel, especially as we had to wait for our rooms to be prepared.  And the opportunity to have breakfast while we waited did not improve things.  Most of us opted not to eat as nothing was appealing.

 The truly positive note was the people in our cycling group.  It was a mixed group in age  20's to 70"s, and nationality -  Canada,  United States, Sweden, Australia, England and Scotland.  They were friendly, engaging and  easy to get along with.

More to follow.

Change of Season

I have my new camera, Lumix FZ 40.  I have done a fair bit of reading and am now trying to master this beast.

Winter has arrived with a good covering of snow, ice on the lake and the hydro bill double what it was last month.  However, today the sun shone, the sky was brilliant blue and the temperature soared to a balmy 7 degrees.  The perfect day to take a walk and try my new camera.

PERSPECTIVE

The Dalai Lama, when asked what surprised him most about humanity, answered "Man.  Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money.  Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health.  And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived."

Now when people ask me, why are you doing that, I answer; because I can, and it makes me happy.

A Better View

Apart from my continuous efforts with training, I am also preparing for my next trip by improving my skills in photography.  My friend Qurie has agreed to provide some guidance for which I am grateful.  I am also saving up for a new camera since mine died in Peru.   In the meantime I am using Al's camera.

Anyway here are some shots I took while going for a walk.

Metric Century

This fall has been a record-breaking warm season with one day the  temperature reaching a high of 31 degrees.  We rode every day as long and as hard as possible.  The colors were brilliant, the wind was frustratingly strong and the sky was that clear blue that is only in the prairies.  I am proud to report that I completed my first metric century ride in 4 hours and 22 minutes.

What a great way to spend the day!