Riding is a pleasure. But when that Riding is with your best buddies, the pleasure is doubled. Add a mystc, wild location to it and the pleasure is infinite. Not to forget the awesome food. The please-o-meter just climbs higher and higher. The North East part of India has been in the wishlist of many riders. But few get to accompalish it. I was one of the lucky ones.
It all started way back in July 2010. The idea of going to Bhutan was floated by Nilu. It was too fanciful to miss. Slowly the idea was exposed to few more riders and by Feb 2011, 7 riders were confirmed. These were:
Nilutpal Hazarika - Bajaj Pulsar 200 - Sinha Saab
Gyananath Moshahari - Hero Honda Karizma - Fukku
Mrinal Doley - Royal Enfield Classic 500 - Monk
Mrinaljit Dutta - Bajar Avenger 200 - John
Satadal Payeng - Bajaj Pulsar 150 - Fall Guy
Sir AK Brahma - Yamaha R15 - Mamaji
Diptinder Singh Chhabra - Royal Enfield Electra 4S - Kenny
Now began the task of planning out the itinerary. Two weeks of vacation time was carved out of our schedules. Arunachal Pradesh was added along with Bhutan. For me, Arunachal was described in one word. Mystic. This was before I visited the place. Nilu earlier described it as 'the place with the highest density of poisonous snakes'. Now, it can be described as Wild. Nilu began to prepare the itinerary. We had no idea about the kind of terrain, the road condition, the weather, we would be encountering. Help was taken from all possible sources. Another riding comrade Vibhor who had just returned from Red Dragon Ride provided inputs. The permits for entry into Bhutan would be no problem. They can be obtained on the spot. Nilu got the ILPs made for Arunachal early. The itinerary was repeatedly worked on so that we could get good time to explore both the territories comfortably. But the biggest task was still remaining. The motorcycles.
The initial plan was to take the machines along with us in Rajdhani to Guwahati. But our tickets had a long waitlist and the status was not climbing up. Gati refused to take bikes outside New Delhi. WTF. This was a constraint in New Delhi only. They were willing to take the bikes from Panipat. WTF. Aggarwal Packers & Movers were another bunch of fuckups. We took an online estimate and the cost was 3800 per bike. On contacting the agency, they estimated a price of Rs 10000 per bike. Even after repeatedly asking the reason for this inflated cost, we were not given a reason. Company policy. WTF. The time of departure was looming closer and we still did not have a mode to transport our motorcycles.
We booked sleeper tickets on the only other train going to Guwahati from New Delhi Railway Station (NE Express was now shifted to Anand Vihar Terminal). On 26th of March, Doley, Dutta and me went to New Delhi station to board the bikes. We contacted an agent. They were also now cashing in on the situation of lesser number of trains. They quoted a price of Rs 5000 per bike. WTF. Our logical reason told us that we could get the bikes delivered at the doorstep by some other Movers & Packers at less than that cost. We followed our reason and returned with our bikes. Over the next couple of days, Dutta found out that another agency, Caravan was charging Rs 6000 per bike. I found another M&P in Noida that quoted Rs 10000 for 3 bikes. The transit time was quoted as a week. This sounded like a sweet deal and we readily agreed. We saw later that theirs was the biggest fuckup.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Four Pack
30 March 2011
So, with just 10 days to go, Gyan also joined us in Delhi and we waited for the Mover and Packer truck to arrive at Doley's place in Gandhi Vihar. We passed the time by watching India Vs Pakistan Cricket World Cup Semi Final. Dutta was busy in his office. Gyan and I had taken an off. We were also trying to convince Doley to take an off as well. He would have been better off if he had.
One guy came to do a preliminiary packing using bubble wrap. When the truck finally came, the labour started to load the bikes onto the trucks. This caused certain people in the neighbourhood to become suspicious. Most of all, one person, whom I'll call Uncle Meddler. He rang up the local Head Constable citing his suspicions. The Constable, DineshJi, arrived quickly. This man earns respects for his honesty and efficiency. By now, even Doley had left for office. So, the persons getting the bikes loaded were two outsiders. One from Panipat, the other from Gurgaon. DineshJi asked for the original papers of the bikes and we presented them. He began to verify the engine and chassis numbers.
The whole matter would have been resolved quickly. But a Sub-Inspector arrived. No respects for him. He ordered the bikes to be taken to the local police station to get the verification done. Uncle Meddler, I would surely like to meet you again.
Another hour passed as we gave our details and Dinesh Ji checked the police records if the bikes were stolen. Full respects to him to finish his job and then give us the green signal. Unfortunate for the Sub-Inspector, there was no earning. Doley had just arrived at the station after spending only 10 minutes in the office.
But just as soon as we were out of the station, India Packers and Movers person, Tiwary, started to ask for more money. Again began a round of negotiations and then we settled for an amount of Rs 17000 for the 4 bikes taking his word that they would be delivered by 8th April, max. What a Farce!
But for the time being, we were relieved and began to enjoy a crate of beer with the match. Now began the anxious wait for 9th April, the day we would fly to Guwahati.
So, with just 10 days to go, Gyan also joined us in Delhi and we waited for the Mover and Packer truck to arrive at Doley's place in Gandhi Vihar. We passed the time by watching India Vs Pakistan Cricket World Cup Semi Final. Dutta was busy in his office. Gyan and I had taken an off. We were also trying to convince Doley to take an off as well. He would have been better off if he had.
One guy came to do a preliminiary packing using bubble wrap. When the truck finally came, the labour started to load the bikes onto the trucks. This caused certain people in the neighbourhood to become suspicious. Most of all, one person, whom I'll call Uncle Meddler. He rang up the local Head Constable citing his suspicions. The Constable, DineshJi, arrived quickly. This man earns respects for his honesty and efficiency. By now, even Doley had left for office. So, the persons getting the bikes loaded were two outsiders. One from Panipat, the other from Gurgaon. DineshJi asked for the original papers of the bikes and we presented them. He began to verify the engine and chassis numbers.
The whole matter would have been resolved quickly. But a Sub-Inspector arrived. No respects for him. He ordered the bikes to be taken to the local police station to get the verification done. Uncle Meddler, I would surely like to meet you again.
Another hour passed as we gave our details and Dinesh Ji checked the police records if the bikes were stolen. Full respects to him to finish his job and then give us the green signal. Unfortunate for the Sub-Inspector, there was no earning. Doley had just arrived at the station after spending only 10 minutes in the office.
But just as soon as we were out of the station, India Packers and Movers person, Tiwary, started to ask for more money. Again began a round of negotiations and then we settled for an amount of Rs 17000 for the 4 bikes taking his word that they would be delivered by 8th April, max. What a Farce!
But for the time being, we were relieved and began to enjoy a crate of beer with the match. Now began the anxious wait for 9th April, the day we would fly to Guwahati.
To Doley's place
8th April 2011
The day before departure had arrived. We all endured a painful time in our offices. At 6:30 PM, I took off. Picked up my bags, along with the carrier. Frustratingly, there are no autos in Gurgaon that would take you to Delhi. So much for NCR. My roommate dropped me till Dwarka from where I took an auto till Gandhi Vihar. I reached Doley's place at 9:30 PM. Dutta was again at office. That guy is fixated with his office. Doley told me that 3-4 days pass easily before he gets home. While Doley was packing, I passed the time with some Haywards 5000, advicing him on the packing.
We used his bubble wrap and Godrej tape to pack the carriers. Dutta arrived by then. He had not packed a thing till then. And he wasnt worried a bit. Just sitting there having beer.
The day before departure had arrived. We all endured a painful time in our offices. At 6:30 PM, I took off. Picked up my bags, along with the carrier. Frustratingly, there are no autos in Gurgaon that would take you to Delhi. So much for NCR. My roommate dropped me till Dwarka from where I took an auto till Gandhi Vihar. I reached Doley's place at 9:30 PM. Dutta was again at office. That guy is fixated with his office. Doley told me that 3-4 days pass easily before he gets home. While Doley was packing, I passed the time with some Haywards 5000, advicing him on the packing.
We used his bubble wrap and Godrej tape to pack the carriers. Dutta arrived by then. He had not packed a thing till then. And he wasnt worried a bit. Just sitting there having beer.
Arrival at Guwahati
9th April 2011
I dont remember when I slept off, but at 3 AM, we woke up for the taxi ride to airport. Delhi cabs dont drive, they fly. Dutta is always hopeful of the neighbouring seat in public travels. This time, the seat remained vacant.
We arrived at Guwahati at 8:10 AM, 15 minutes early. Nilu was nowhere in sight. We had to wait for half an hour before he came. Funnily, I noticed that the luggage carrier had been marked as Fragile. Sinha saab was styled in goggles and goatie. He had a huge apartment to himself. Each room had some sort of music source in it. An Audiophile's place. We called up to find out that our bikes had not arrived yet. Estimated date of delivery was 11th April. Now we had to work on a contingency plan. The ire on Tiwary would come later. To fine tune our thinking, we had some Tuborg Strong that Nilu had stocked up. Gyan also arrived. He can sniff the opening fizz of beer miles away. We began to work on alternatives . We could explore the areas around while waiting for the motorcycles and then zip through the itinerary in fast forward. That also meant we would have less time to explore the areas properly. Gyan made a list of plans based on what day the bikes would be collected.
Gyan started to cook pasta for us. He made a terrific job of it and then asked us to keep it as a secret from his wife. Nilu must have been having a hard time in his office during this duration because he arrived home soon and we all went to pick up PayengDa. It was great to meet him after so long. We went to Cafe Hendrix. It is such a chilled out place. Delhi should have such places. In fact, it had one by the name of Cafe Morrisson. But then they hiked the prices so much that it got unaffordable. We finished our lunch there. Fried Rice and Pork. This would be our staple food during the entire trip. We returned to Nilu's palace to reach a decision. With our senses sharpened by Carlsbergs, ideas began to flow. We could stick to our itinerary and explore Bhutan on four wheels. Everyone knew that we would be missing our bikes the entire time we would be on the road, but we were helpless. At that time, it seemed to be the best decision. PayengDa declined as he had an interview the next day at Chennai. So, there was only two bikes available, Nilu's 200 and Mamaji's R15. We could also hire other bikes at Guwahati. But ask any rider, and he would vote for No Riding rather than riding a hired motorcycle. Later, Mamaji also declined as he had already been to Bhutan on 4 wheels. That left with 5 of us. We could fit easily into Nilu's Fiery Fiesta. That also meant we could have limitless bakchodi.
Nilu had already booked the Indian Oil guest house at Madarihat near the Bhutan border. He also made arrangements for breakfast at a cousin's place we would be crossing on the way. This later resulted in a hilarious experience. Now we had the rest of the day with us. Gyan left for his home as he would be returning again in the evening. Nilu had a treat for us. Famous Grouse.
We drank moderately that night. Nilu got his tank full first so that we could leave early the next morning.
I dont remember when I slept off, but at 3 AM, we woke up for the taxi ride to airport. Delhi cabs dont drive, they fly. Dutta is always hopeful of the neighbouring seat in public travels. This time, the seat remained vacant.
We arrived at Guwahati at 8:10 AM, 15 minutes early. Nilu was nowhere in sight. We had to wait for half an hour before he came. Funnily, I noticed that the luggage carrier had been marked as Fragile. Sinha saab was styled in goggles and goatie. He had a huge apartment to himself. Each room had some sort of music source in it. An Audiophile's place. We called up to find out that our bikes had not arrived yet. Estimated date of delivery was 11th April. Now we had to work on a contingency plan. The ire on Tiwary would come later. To fine tune our thinking, we had some Tuborg Strong that Nilu had stocked up. Gyan also arrived. He can sniff the opening fizz of beer miles away. We began to work on alternatives . We could explore the areas around while waiting for the motorcycles and then zip through the itinerary in fast forward. That also meant we would have less time to explore the areas properly. Gyan made a list of plans based on what day the bikes would be collected.
Gyan started to cook pasta for us. He made a terrific job of it and then asked us to keep it as a secret from his wife. Nilu must have been having a hard time in his office during this duration because he arrived home soon and we all went to pick up PayengDa. It was great to meet him after so long. We went to Cafe Hendrix. It is such a chilled out place. Delhi should have such places. In fact, it had one by the name of Cafe Morrisson. But then they hiked the prices so much that it got unaffordable. We finished our lunch there. Fried Rice and Pork. This would be our staple food during the entire trip. We returned to Nilu's palace to reach a decision. With our senses sharpened by Carlsbergs, ideas began to flow. We could stick to our itinerary and explore Bhutan on four wheels. Everyone knew that we would be missing our bikes the entire time we would be on the road, but we were helpless. At that time, it seemed to be the best decision. PayengDa declined as he had an interview the next day at Chennai. So, there was only two bikes available, Nilu's 200 and Mamaji's R15. We could also hire other bikes at Guwahati. But ask any rider, and he would vote for No Riding rather than riding a hired motorcycle. Later, Mamaji also declined as he had already been to Bhutan on 4 wheels. That left with 5 of us. We could fit easily into Nilu's Fiery Fiesta. That also meant we could have limitless bakchodi.
Nilu had already booked the Indian Oil guest house at Madarihat near the Bhutan border. He also made arrangements for breakfast at a cousin's place we would be crossing on the way. This later resulted in a hilarious experience. Now we had the rest of the day with us. Gyan left for his home as he would be returning again in the evening. Nilu had a treat for us. Famous Grouse.
We drank moderately that night. Nilu got his tank full first so that we could leave early the next morning.
Guwahati to Madarihat
10 April 2011
We woke up early at 5 AM, packed our light luggage in the sedan and started our journey. Being Bihu time, the roads were empty. We zoomed through NH-52. Our motorcycles were in our minds. How lovely it would have been to ride on these roads. We covered 110 kms within 2 hours arriving at the cousin's place.
Almost all of the conversation was in Assamese so I couldnt make sense of it. Then the serving started. It began with tea, sweet and biscuits. Then the pork arrived. And Poori. And Paneer. And Dal. And chicken. And another sabzi. Man, this was breakfast. I hope we didnt disappoint our hosts because we were gobbling every minute.
We gave up when our stomachs could hold no more. But, the treat was still not over. Out came lao paani, or rice beer. I had been longing to taste it. Nilu refused to have but still had to taste some for courtesy's sake. We had a bit more for courtesy's sake. Nilu warned that it is extremely potent. It is said to be good for digestion, a fact proved as Doley immediately went to dump. This activity would become a big joke later in the evening as we came to know about a secret.
Our hosts packed up a tiffin filled with pork and a 3 Litres milk container full of rice beer for our journey. Being Bihu time, we were also presented with the traditional gamusha. We thanked our hosts immensely. Note the trip meter reading of 110 kms. We continued our journey to stop again after 5 minutes. The smokers badly wanted a drag. As we continued, with blues playing in the stereo, we mulled over what else to do. About 20 minutes must have passed since we left. Out came the milk container. Our hosts had also packed a few disposable glasses. I took my duty as the bartender, though it looked more like a milkman. I even wrapped the gamusha to complete the effect. We stopped for a while so that even Nilu could have some. It must have been killing him to see us gulping down the beer. But then he gets his high from driving.
As we bypassed Bongaigaon, an incident occurred. Suddenly, the vehicle began to lose power and the transmission warning light came on. This had never happened before. We were left with reduced power. This reduced the speed limit to just 70. Nilu was highly worried.
Dutta was a source of relief in between. Nilu frequently questioned him, "Dutta, so gaya kya?". This was only the beginning. He would be facing much tougher wraths in the days to come. But he was always sporting.
As we reached the Assam-Bengal border, miles of trucks greeted us. This is one of the two gateways to all the North Eastern states and is extremely crowded. Nilu had to manouver offroad to progress. But at one point, we were badly stuck. Then a good samaritan guided us towards a village path that would bypass the chaos. The Fiesta was now in unknown terrain. It handled everything extremely well even when underpowered.
And we were through. Now, we were in Boka-land. Remember the point where the trip meter reading was 110. It was now nearly 260. We had managed to finish 3 Litres of rice beer. That translates to 50 kms to a Litre. Not a bad mileage, I'll say. HAAAAARRR HAAAAAAAARRR.
The roads were still decent. We made good progress till New Alipurduar. Here we turned towards Madarihat. This road is in a bad shape. Huge potholes slowed our journey to a crawl. This road passes through the Buxar Wildlife Reserve. Greenery was in abundance. There did come a good stretch and Nilu made full use of it, racing the Fiesta to a speed of 140 kmph. It was a good 60 kms later that we arrived at the Guest House. It was placed well inside, past the Madarihat village. Enroute, we also saw the road that we would be taking in the morning to Bhutan alongside massive tea estates. The rooms were spacious. But the most spectacular part were the bathroom fittings. I wouldn't have written about it otherwise. Truly, state of the art.
We had picked up 3 bottles of Blender's for our time here and further on. One was opened tonight. It was during this session that Nilu dropped a bomb. He told us that he doesn't meet his cousin that often. We had enjoyed all the frills and eats at an almost-stranger's place. Doley was hit the hardest. He had dumped at that place. He exclaimed, "Shit!". Yeah, it was literally a shitty situation.
After the bottle was finished, we got down to the dining table to have dinner. The cook had made the chicken well. I dont even remember the taste of rest of the dishes. We would be carnivores throughout this trip.
We woke up early at 5 AM, packed our light luggage in the sedan and started our journey. Being Bihu time, the roads were empty. We zoomed through NH-52. Our motorcycles were in our minds. How lovely it would have been to ride on these roads. We covered 110 kms within 2 hours arriving at the cousin's place.
Almost all of the conversation was in Assamese so I couldnt make sense of it. Then the serving started. It began with tea, sweet and biscuits. Then the pork arrived. And Poori. And Paneer. And Dal. And chicken. And another sabzi. Man, this was breakfast. I hope we didnt disappoint our hosts because we were gobbling every minute.
We gave up when our stomachs could hold no more. But, the treat was still not over. Out came lao paani, or rice beer. I had been longing to taste it. Nilu refused to have but still had to taste some for courtesy's sake. We had a bit more for courtesy's sake. Nilu warned that it is extremely potent. It is said to be good for digestion, a fact proved as Doley immediately went to dump. This activity would become a big joke later in the evening as we came to know about a secret.
Our hosts packed up a tiffin filled with pork and a 3 Litres milk container full of rice beer for our journey. Being Bihu time, we were also presented with the traditional gamusha. We thanked our hosts immensely. Note the trip meter reading of 110 kms. We continued our journey to stop again after 5 minutes. The smokers badly wanted a drag. As we continued, with blues playing in the stereo, we mulled over what else to do. About 20 minutes must have passed since we left. Out came the milk container. Our hosts had also packed a few disposable glasses. I took my duty as the bartender, though it looked more like a milkman. I even wrapped the gamusha to complete the effect. We stopped for a while so that even Nilu could have some. It must have been killing him to see us gulping down the beer. But then he gets his high from driving.
As we bypassed Bongaigaon, an incident occurred. Suddenly, the vehicle began to lose power and the transmission warning light came on. This had never happened before. We were left with reduced power. This reduced the speed limit to just 70. Nilu was highly worried.
Dutta was a source of relief in between. Nilu frequently questioned him, "Dutta, so gaya kya?". This was only the beginning. He would be facing much tougher wraths in the days to come. But he was always sporting.
As we reached the Assam-Bengal border, miles of trucks greeted us. This is one of the two gateways to all the North Eastern states and is extremely crowded. Nilu had to manouver offroad to progress. But at one point, we were badly stuck. Then a good samaritan guided us towards a village path that would bypass the chaos. The Fiesta was now in unknown terrain. It handled everything extremely well even when underpowered.
And we were through. Now, we were in Boka-land. Remember the point where the trip meter reading was 110. It was now nearly 260. We had managed to finish 3 Litres of rice beer. That translates to 50 kms to a Litre. Not a bad mileage, I'll say. HAAAAARRR HAAAAAAAARRR.
The roads were still decent. We made good progress till New Alipurduar. Here we turned towards Madarihat. This road is in a bad shape. Huge potholes slowed our journey to a crawl. This road passes through the Buxar Wildlife Reserve. Greenery was in abundance. There did come a good stretch and Nilu made full use of it, racing the Fiesta to a speed of 140 kmph. It was a good 60 kms later that we arrived at the Guest House. It was placed well inside, past the Madarihat village. Enroute, we also saw the road that we would be taking in the morning to Bhutan alongside massive tea estates. The rooms were spacious. But the most spectacular part were the bathroom fittings. I wouldn't have written about it otherwise. Truly, state of the art.
We had picked up 3 bottles of Blender's for our time here and further on. One was opened tonight. It was during this session that Nilu dropped a bomb. He told us that he doesn't meet his cousin that often. We had enjoyed all the frills and eats at an almost-stranger's place. Doley was hit the hardest. He had dumped at that place. He exclaimed, "Shit!". Yeah, it was literally a shitty situation.
After the bottle was finished, we got down to the dining table to have dinner. The cook had made the chicken well. I dont even remember the taste of rest of the dishes. We would be carnivores throughout this trip.
Madarihat to Thimpu
11 April 2011
Today was a big day. It would have been even bigger if it could have been our first International Bike Ride. But, we were still excited to visit Bhutan. Nilu was to leave his car here for the next two days. As we waited for the taxi to pick us up, we picked up a ball nearby and practiced some football. It was only after we realized that it was actually a volleyball, that we changed the sport. But then again swung back to football.
Today was a big day. It would have been even bigger if it could have been our first International Bike Ride. But, we were still excited to visit Bhutan. Nilu was to leave his car here for the next two days. As we waited for the taxi to pick us up, we picked up a ball nearby and practiced some football. It was only after we realized that it was actually a volleyball, that we changed the sport. But then again swung back to football.
As the taxi arrived, we piled in. The road weaves in between massive tea estates. We were dropped off at the border town of Jaigaon. A gateway with negligible checking leads to Bhutan. Phuentsholing is on the other side of the gateway. Both the towns are split by a wall. But this border is very porous. People are seen walking across easily. Both these towns show a perfect, balanced blend of two cultures. Perfect peace and harmony. Our states should learn from these towns.
We entered the Immigration office to get permits for our stay in Bhutan. Getting a permit after entering the country, how much more friendly can you get. Tourists can roam around in Phuentsholing easily without permits. They are checked some distance ahead at a checkpost. A passport is the best method to get the permit. Only two of us were carrying passports. The others had Driver's Licenses. So, we had to go to the Indian Consul nearby to get our nationalities verified. We booked a cab that we would be using later on to get to Thimphu as well. The driver was Kinley and a brilliant guy.
Sadly, the official here is not that friendly. As soon as he learnt that two among us were IOC officials, he asked for an NOC. This was a shocker. It seemed as if our trip would be over even before it started. But our kind and docile faces must have convinced him otherwise. He provided us with the verification letter to be submitted at the Immigration Office. We raced back only to find that they had lunch break.
Kinley got our currency exchanged at a nearby store. The Ngultrum and INR are at par and in these two towns and even nearby, both of them can be used. We had lunch ourselves at Zen restaurant in Phuentsholing along with Druk 11000 beer. This was our first taste of Bhutanese alcohol. We ogled at all the SUVs parked outside. We were under the impression that Bhutan is a poor country. But, it is hard to believe that when you see all the Tucsons, Hiluxs, Prados parked here and there. We dont get some of the models in India.
We waited for a while inside the Immigration office to collect our permits. We got them at 2:30 PM and we were off. By now, Kinley had packed our bags neatly on the roof of his Versa, covered with tarpaulin. It so happened that our ages were displayed clearly on the permits. One particular person was revealed to be eldest and his leg was pulled to no end over this during the entire trip and even today. His identity would be revealed later.
The 157 kms to Thimphu took 5.5 hours. We snoozed most of the way. Enroute, we also did some illegal activity. Smoking is completely banned in Bhutan. So, Kinley stopped at a roadside and then our guys puffed secretly taking cover of the taxi. Nilu squeezed Kinley dry of all the information to gain entry and citizenship into the country. He also learnt some Bhutanese or Jongkha words. Heres what I remember:
Kuzumbo - Hi
Bum - Female
Boo - Male
Tashi Delek - Good Wishes
Bhutanese - Jongkha
8 Lucky Buddhist Symbols - umbrella(dunkar), lotus, victory banner, white conch(peng), golden fish
All through the drive, we marvelled at the smooth roads of Bhutan. BRO was at play here also. Project Dantak. Our missing motorcycles repeatedly panged at us. But we decided to make the most of it without them.
As we entered the gateway of Thimphu, we were struck by an awesome sight. A four-lane highway. And then a flyover. At a hill station. Kinley only dropped us at a budget hotel, Hotel Choephel Norkyi on Norzin Lam road. This road is frequented by tourists and also a busy market place. The location was perfect and the pricing was right. We boarded in.
We thanked Kinley and said goodbye to him. After we had dumped the luggage, we came out to buy some of the local liquor. When we came out, Kinley only guided us to a store. This was another unusual sight. We were in a departmental store selling groceries. And there right on top of the Cerelacs, were the Whiskey bottles. We picked up one bottle of Courier and another more premium brand, K5. Alcohol is quite cheap in Bhutan and also of topmost quality.
Fried pork was ordered as snacks and we started our session in the room. IPL also entertained us in between all the leg pulling. Then for dinner we again had, yes, pork. But the pleasant surprise was that I got rotis. And they tasted heavenly after so long. The sweet taste of wheat. I ordered the local dish Kewa Datschi along with it, but did not find the taste to my liking.
Thimpu to Paro
12 April 2011
Our target for the day was Paro Monastery. We had seen pics of this structure and it deserved a visit. One wakes up early and fresh in the hills. It might be due to the crisp and clear mountain air. Also, the early sunrise helps. We did wake up early but not early enough to catch the bus to Paro. The last one leaves at 8 AM. At 8:30 we roamed the streets. None of the shops were open. All were to open at 9 AM only.
But still, a roadside tea shop provided tea. One of the dishes kept at the counter looked attractive and was ordered for breakfast along with sweet bun. The owner was surprised saying that it was beef for lunch. We didnt mind. Bun and beef for breakfast along with a distinctive taste of tea. That should keep us healthy while hiking to the monastery.
We went around to the taxi stand. One of the drivers approached us and charged us 1050 Nu. The amount was right for 7 people. Since we were 5, he took us down to the bus stand to pick up more passengers. A friend of the driver came around and we negotiated a deal of 2100 Nu that included sight seeing. We were told that sight seeing at Paro costs a minimum of 700 Nu. We took the deal and changed vans. Versas are in plenty here.
The road to Paro is a breeze. Again, we were hit by our lack of motorcycles. Our guide was a superb person. Very knowledgable too. He told us about the government and the King. The King has the final word and the government cannot challenge that. He is only 30 years old and very citizen-friendly. We also came across the Paro airstrip. The pilots must be surely highly skilled to manouver huge aircrafts in that narrow space and a short airstrip. Paro is a wonderful town. We went another 4-5 kms to the starting point of our hike. The monastery was visible from below, high above in the mountains.
And the hike started. In no time, we were gasping and panting for breath. We claim to ride hundreds of kms without getting tired, but a minute of hike is enough to weaken us. Nilu was the slowest, although he claims it was due to his snap-taking tendencies. Dutta gave a good start. He was all dressed in Nat Geo pullover and with a camera hanging on his neck, he looked the part. But soon, age caught up with him(here's the leak). Even Gyan overtook him. I guess it must have been due to the fact he claims that he is underweight. Underweight means he hasnt touched 100 yet. Doley used to be a hard trekker. But with his paunch all swelled up, his pace had dropped. I was in the lead powered by my BoP Tee. All those days in the gym helped.
There were few tourists on the trail. At the mid point theres a water pipe. The water running is drinkable and very tasteful. This place also offers a view of the monastery ahead. It looked more spectacular than before. I also met a British and a Canadian tourist. The Canadian women claimed she was Punjabi. I found it hard to believe and then she showed me her nose pin. She is a travel writer and trips India back and forth. She runs a website breathedreamgo.com and when I looked at the site, she loves our country much more than we do it ourselves. Something to be learnt for all of us.
As we regrouped, we sat at the Takshang Cafeteria for tea and biscuits. We thought of having lunch here, but when the bill for tea came, 360 Nu, we passed. Now began the second leg. This was easier than the first leg as you watch the destination coming closer and closer. We all grouped for a pic with the structure in the background. Another flight of stairs led to a cave. Doley, Gyan and I took the stairs to see the meditating cave. The way down is scary. When we reached the gates of the monastery, all the cameras were surrendered and we were frisked.
The Royal Bhutan Army manages the tourist traffic inside the monastery. They also act as guides giving complete information. The soldiers were cheerful men. But, one statement struck me. He asked if anyone of us was Pakistani. This is a downright offensive statement.
The soldier guided us along the monastery showing us the treasure rock, the sun and the moon impressions, the wishing thumb impression. He kept urging us to see everything as it would be, most probably, a once in a lifetime experience. He even mocked Dutta asking if he was feeling healthy. Dutta was in pain. As if our needling wasnt enough, here was a soldier of the Royal Bhutan Army mocking him too. Monasteries have a different sort of air in them. As soon as you enter one, you soak in the calmness and peace. You feel cleansed. The soldier told us how the large Guru Padmasambhava statue was brought to the monastery by one person. You ought to have strong devotion to lift such weight to such heights. We were carrying nothing and still had to stop frequently. It was a divine experience.
After clicking a snap with the Armyman, we started our way back. The way down was much easier. I was halfway down quickly with the help of Metal in my ears. I reached the point where there were few memento sellers, all females. They asked if any foreign tourists were still up there at the monastery. I said No. While they were packing I experienced some of Bhutan's Women's Liberation. They began flirting, pointing at the other and saying, "she wants to be your girlfriend", "Balle Balle", etc. I replied in affirmative to everything. I loved that country even more.
The second half of the journey was covered even sooner. It had taken us a total of 5 hours to the monastery and back. Earlier, our cab driver had told us that being youthful, we would be able to climb up in an hour and descend even sooner. So much for the youth. On the way back he took us the long way round so that we could have a better view of the airport. It looked splendid from the mountains around it.
As we reached back to Thimphu, he took us to the huge Buddha statue that provided a panoramic view of the city. Unfortunately, that place was closed. But though we didnt get a good view of the city, we got an overview of the city's youngsters. The road to the viewpoint is covered with vehicles with couples dating in and out of them. It seems this was their Bandstand or Buddha Garden(pun intended).
We reached back to the market where the cab driver dropped us. He had also suggested that if we want to take the bus to Phuentsholing the next day, we should purchase the ticket early. We began shopping for souvenirs. It took longer for the married folks to shop, obviously. Dutta was the quickest with everything done and over with at the first shop, to which we returned an hour later to finish ours. We also saw key chains of the Bhutanese good luck charm. This has to be seen to be believed. Then Dutta went to do further shopping and bought a razor. When the Royal Bhutan Army says, you have to listen. He had decided to clean up after the critical comment from the soldier up on the monastery. But he forgot to buy shaving cream. He compensated for it by using face wash.
Tuesdays are dry days in Bhutan, in a strict manner. We ordered room service for the snacks. 6 plates of fried pork and 2 plates of fried chicken. This was our last night in Bhutan. The manager asked us if we were going to drink. His gesture was truly memorable. "take it to the room". We opened the premium K5 tonight. Its smooth. Courier was packed for the way back.
I should mention here that Nilu keeps the empty bottles as trophy. This should be remembered as it went on to become the most memorable moment of this trip.
When we came down to have dinner, the guys again ordered pork, for themselves, and chicken, for me. By this time, I was done and over with pork. I do like it, but cannot enjoy continuous spells of it.
Our target for the day was Paro Monastery. We had seen pics of this structure and it deserved a visit. One wakes up early and fresh in the hills. It might be due to the crisp and clear mountain air. Also, the early sunrise helps. We did wake up early but not early enough to catch the bus to Paro. The last one leaves at 8 AM. At 8:30 we roamed the streets. None of the shops were open. All were to open at 9 AM only.
But still, a roadside tea shop provided tea. One of the dishes kept at the counter looked attractive and was ordered for breakfast along with sweet bun. The owner was surprised saying that it was beef for lunch. We didnt mind. Bun and beef for breakfast along with a distinctive taste of tea. That should keep us healthy while hiking to the monastery.
We went around to the taxi stand. One of the drivers approached us and charged us 1050 Nu. The amount was right for 7 people. Since we were 5, he took us down to the bus stand to pick up more passengers. A friend of the driver came around and we negotiated a deal of 2100 Nu that included sight seeing. We were told that sight seeing at Paro costs a minimum of 700 Nu. We took the deal and changed vans. Versas are in plenty here.
The road to Paro is a breeze. Again, we were hit by our lack of motorcycles. Our guide was a superb person. Very knowledgable too. He told us about the government and the King. The King has the final word and the government cannot challenge that. He is only 30 years old and very citizen-friendly. We also came across the Paro airstrip. The pilots must be surely highly skilled to manouver huge aircrafts in that narrow space and a short airstrip. Paro is a wonderful town. We went another 4-5 kms to the starting point of our hike. The monastery was visible from below, high above in the mountains.
And the hike started. In no time, we were gasping and panting for breath. We claim to ride hundreds of kms without getting tired, but a minute of hike is enough to weaken us. Nilu was the slowest, although he claims it was due to his snap-taking tendencies. Dutta gave a good start. He was all dressed in Nat Geo pullover and with a camera hanging on his neck, he looked the part. But soon, age caught up with him(here's the leak). Even Gyan overtook him. I guess it must have been due to the fact he claims that he is underweight. Underweight means he hasnt touched 100 yet. Doley used to be a hard trekker. But with his paunch all swelled up, his pace had dropped. I was in the lead powered by my BoP Tee. All those days in the gym helped.
There were few tourists on the trail. At the mid point theres a water pipe. The water running is drinkable and very tasteful. This place also offers a view of the monastery ahead. It looked more spectacular than before. I also met a British and a Canadian tourist. The Canadian women claimed she was Punjabi. I found it hard to believe and then she showed me her nose pin. She is a travel writer and trips India back and forth. She runs a website breathedreamgo.com and when I looked at the site, she loves our country much more than we do it ourselves. Something to be learnt for all of us.
As we regrouped, we sat at the Takshang Cafeteria for tea and biscuits. We thought of having lunch here, but when the bill for tea came, 360 Nu, we passed. Now began the second leg. This was easier than the first leg as you watch the destination coming closer and closer. We all grouped for a pic with the structure in the background. Another flight of stairs led to a cave. Doley, Gyan and I took the stairs to see the meditating cave. The way down is scary. When we reached the gates of the monastery, all the cameras were surrendered and we were frisked.
The Royal Bhutan Army manages the tourist traffic inside the monastery. They also act as guides giving complete information. The soldiers were cheerful men. But, one statement struck me. He asked if anyone of us was Pakistani. This is a downright offensive statement.
The soldier guided us along the monastery showing us the treasure rock, the sun and the moon impressions, the wishing thumb impression. He kept urging us to see everything as it would be, most probably, a once in a lifetime experience. He even mocked Dutta asking if he was feeling healthy. Dutta was in pain. As if our needling wasnt enough, here was a soldier of the Royal Bhutan Army mocking him too. Monasteries have a different sort of air in them. As soon as you enter one, you soak in the calmness and peace. You feel cleansed. The soldier told us how the large Guru Padmasambhava statue was brought to the monastery by one person. You ought to have strong devotion to lift such weight to such heights. We were carrying nothing and still had to stop frequently. It was a divine experience.
After clicking a snap with the Armyman, we started our way back. The way down was much easier. I was halfway down quickly with the help of Metal in my ears. I reached the point where there were few memento sellers, all females. They asked if any foreign tourists were still up there at the monastery. I said No. While they were packing I experienced some of Bhutan's Women's Liberation. They began flirting, pointing at the other and saying, "she wants to be your girlfriend", "Balle Balle", etc. I replied in affirmative to everything. I loved that country even more.
The second half of the journey was covered even sooner. It had taken us a total of 5 hours to the monastery and back. Earlier, our cab driver had told us that being youthful, we would be able to climb up in an hour and descend even sooner. So much for the youth. On the way back he took us the long way round so that we could have a better view of the airport. It looked splendid from the mountains around it.
As we reached back to Thimphu, he took us to the huge Buddha statue that provided a panoramic view of the city. Unfortunately, that place was closed. But though we didnt get a good view of the city, we got an overview of the city's youngsters. The road to the viewpoint is covered with vehicles with couples dating in and out of them. It seems this was their Bandstand or Buddha Garden(pun intended).
We reached back to the market where the cab driver dropped us. He had also suggested that if we want to take the bus to Phuentsholing the next day, we should purchase the ticket early. We began shopping for souvenirs. It took longer for the married folks to shop, obviously. Dutta was the quickest with everything done and over with at the first shop, to which we returned an hour later to finish ours. We also saw key chains of the Bhutanese good luck charm. This has to be seen to be believed. Then Dutta went to do further shopping and bought a razor. When the Royal Bhutan Army says, you have to listen. He had decided to clean up after the critical comment from the soldier up on the monastery. But he forgot to buy shaving cream. He compensated for it by using face wash.
Tuesdays are dry days in Bhutan, in a strict manner. We ordered room service for the snacks. 6 plates of fried pork and 2 plates of fried chicken. This was our last night in Bhutan. The manager asked us if we were going to drink. His gesture was truly memorable. "take it to the room". We opened the premium K5 tonight. Its smooth. Courier was packed for the way back.
I should mention here that Nilu keeps the empty bottles as trophy. This should be remembered as it went on to become the most memorable moment of this trip.
When we came down to have dinner, the guys again ordered pork, for themselves, and chicken, for me. By this time, I was done and over with pork. I do like it, but cannot enjoy continuous spells of it.
Thimphu - Madarihat
13 April 2011
Today was a historic day. This was Gyan's day, whole and soul. We all owe lots of hearty laughs to him. They say laughing is healthy. If thats the case, then we were the fittest people on earth on this day. As were few others.
Nilu and Doley woke up early to book bus tickets to Phuentsholing. Nilu reasoned, and we all agreed, that Versas weree uncomfortable on hilly roads. A bus would be more comfortable. It actually turned out to be, even more so as it was a Toyota Coaster. Our bus was to depart at 11 AM. But we all faked the departure time to be 9 AM so that we could get ready on time. Gyan and Dutta were not too pleased when they found it out. As we went to the restaurant for breakfast, the guys ordered, what else, pork. Pork chowmein. I ordered aloo parathas. When the guys asked the manager to repeat the order, he came out apologingly and said that they had run out of pork. I had always known and somewhat experienced my mates' appetite for pork, but had not realised the extremity of it.
With our backpacks on, we reached the bus stop with half an hour to spare. This was spent buying churpis, solidified yak milk, and just loitering around. Doley utilized this time to take spy shots of "Buums". As we walked around, some of the taxi drivers thought we had just arrived and started to sing Punjabi songs, "Bole Tara Rara" to attract us. Amusing sight. By 10:45 AM, the coaster was full. So the driver just drove off. In Bhutan, they have a policy of no standing passengers.
The driver was having some trouble with one of the front tyres. So, he stopped at a workshop nearby. At the workshop, we saw a girl fixing a puncture on a tube. Women's Liberation at its finest. Lots to be learnt for our pansies here.
The driver was splendid. We could hear the tyres screeching as he was negotiating the curves. We dare not ride our motorcycles at that speed on these roads. For lunch, we stopped at a roadside restaurant. Mutton, Beef and Pork rice were ordered. The meat was awesomely cooked. We were left licking our fingers.
Now, let me tell you about the first record smasher by Gyan. We had a good conversation with another passenger in the bus, Sonam Sir. He was a teacher and had explored India, and even the world, extensively. He gave us plenty of information. He even invited us to visit him at his hometown Bhumthang where he would treat us for free. His statement, "There's no other country like India", takes the trophy. During the journey, he even played Creed's Six Feet, earning more respect. I wanted to copy a couple of Jongkha songs from his phone. He handed over his Samsung phone to me. Gyan owns a Samsung as well. As I was unable to transfer the songs, Gyan took over. He copied some 5-odd songs from Sonam Sir's phone. Then I took Gyan's phone to copy them in mine. As I finished, I put on my handsfree to enjoy the songs. What turned on was a shocker. They were some itsy-bitsy English numbers. I turned to Gyan.
"How many songs did you copy?"
Answer: 6-7.
"Anyone of them in Jongkha?"
Answer: No.
Wails of laughter followed. We owe such landmark moments to Gyan. Even the bus driver was trying to control his laughter. But the biggest moment was still to come.
As we reached Phuentsholing, the weather got quite warm. We crossed the border into our own country. Car horns greeted us. Welcome to India. But we still love it, dont we? We took a taxi to Madarihat. This driver was also a racer. He was driving as if his Omni was a 4X4. He dropped us at the IOC guest house in no time.
The news was not welcome. The guest house had to entertain a few cops on election duty. That left with only one room for five of us. We didnt mind. We all crashed out on the floor. This time, we opened the Courier. In between all the leg-pulling, time was moving towards our most memorable moment.
Gyan has a dirty habit of leaving a portion of his last peg. We had been quite fed up with this for quite some time. He doesnt even give a reason for it. So when we figured out that this was going to be the last peg, we didnt offer any to Gyan. He had finished his earlier peg by now so there was none to be wasted. Usually, we dont like to refuse people drinks, but he had to be taught a lesson. Slowly, his frustration began to climb. Now it had reached the breaking point. As we were about to finish our pegs, he got up in a confident manner. That was the first mistake. Then, he reached into a bag and took out a whiskey bottle. Second mistake. Now he began to mock us, "You think I'm an arse?". Third mistake. He began to shake the bottle in front of us repeating the same line. Fourth mistake. Now Nilu stepped out from the bathroom and saw what was going on. He knew exactly what was going to happen. He just calmly said to me, "Be ready for the shock on Gyan's face". As Gyan started to pour himself a peg, he realized that it was the trophy bottle Nilu had packed from the day before in his bag. Empty. Now, he was red faced, with embarassment. The rest of us were also red faced, with hilarious guffaws. Till date we don't remember how much time passed before we were able to get back to normal. I'm almost breaking down again as I write this.
The only drawback of such landmark moments is that any future moment has to live up to at least half that level so that we can enjoy a good laugh. Also, it can be broken by only the same person. It hasn't happened till now.
Madarihat to Guwahati
14 April 2011
This day wasn't an easy one for us. We were saddened after leaving Bhutan. We were also worried as there was no news of our bikes. Nilu was worried about the transmission warning in his car. It started out as a dull day. But then grew into a wild, adrenaline rush. We took off early so that the border could be crossed in little traffic. But it was not to be. Nilu took some wrong turns and even though we were not much delayed by them, when we reached the border, the truck line had elongated to miles. This time, no diversion could be found. Doley was having a sore neck. But he would not take any medicine, saving the pain to be dulled by rice beer.
By this time, we did some minor abusing to Tiwary about his handling of the transportation. He kept on avoiding us. We stopped at a dhaba for a light meal. Nilu's little-known cousin had warned us to come with an empty stomach. The warning had to be taken seriously as we had seen what their breakfast meant. So, lunch would be leagues above. We had targeted to reach their place by 3 PM. As we left the dhaba, it was 1 PM.
We rang up Om Logistics ourselves to find out that the bikes had arrived. The trouble was, being Bihu time, their office would close at 4 PM and will remain shut for the next 2 days. No way we could reach Guwahati by that time. PayengDa had disturbing news of his own. Although, his interview had gone well, he had lost the receipt to collect his bike at Guwahati Railway Station. Murphy's Laws were all coming true.
All of a sudden, we were time bound. Frantic calls everywhere.
Gyan called up his father to reach Om Logistics and get the bikes outside the godown. Next call was to cousin's place to ask if we could skip lunch, or even get it packed if they had started preparing. Only a few minutes earlier, we were thinking of taking a beer-break before we reach the cousin's place. It would be a long wait before we could taste some more rice beer. But now, that option was chucked out. Our minds were racing. Nilu's was racing even faster as the onus was on him to make time. Plus, he was also racing his Fiesta. Only the transmission warning was slowing us down. On top of that, we were stopped by a number of Bihu dance groups who blocked the road and then asked for money. Even with the lack of alcohol, our intelligence wasn't failing us. We judged that since our ILPs were active from 16th, we could collect the bikes on 16th morning also and reach Bhalukpong by evening. Only that the bikes wouldn't be serviced. So, we hadn't reached critical point yet. But Nilu was not comforted. He said that we would be making even grander plans soon. He was right. But then, Nilu's cousin called and we could not escape them. We had to make a stop. So now, we had to eat up real fast, as fast as we had ever eaten. Still, even with the presence of gobblemouths, we would not be able to make it in less than half hour. To make matters worse, a certain Sumo Grande and a Tata Nano overtook us, that too with honks. Nilu was burnt crisp. But he was helpless. His car must have shared the sentiment because right then the warning light went off. We were back on full power.
Nilu came back in form. He overtook the two vehicles back, that too with honks. Sweet revenge. But at one instant, it came too close to comfort. Still, he and his vehicle had proved the point, and both of them relaxed. The warning light came back on.
Now, the news started getting better. Gyan's father had done it. We could collect the bikes from the godown at any instant today. That meant we could enjoy a full meal now. Now we got carried away and thought of more plans but Nilu stopped us.
We reached the cousin's place and enjoyed a hearty meal. Nilu presented them with gifts bought in Bhutan. Still, we were not relaxed. Our minds were with our machines. The food was a great distraction. Doley was the master here. He accepted everything, and more. He had been tolerating the pain in his neck for long. This was the treatment time. He even had good helpings of the rice beer.
Thanking our hosts again for their splendid hospitality, we started off again. Our moods were lifted up now. The weather had gone cloudy and a cool breeze was blowing. Doley had gotten high from all the rice beer and showed it. We were LOUD. Music volume turned high, Full headbanging in the backseat. His neck was cured for sure. A black Scorpio was encountered. Nilu played with it. He was playing with me also at the same time. GRRRRRRR. If only I had the wheel.
But as we reached Guwahati, we were in for a rude shock. We sighed on seeing our machines. Then at closer look, we were hit. All the bikes had sustained damage. Rear indicators were broken for most of them. Dutta's rear backrest had broken off. Doley's Classic suffered the hardest. Seeing a dent on a brand new bike is heart breaking. The petrol tank had a dent on it. The side box was badly scratched. The side stand had twisted and was unusable. Gyan's Karizma was in bad shape too. The fairing, the cowl, the console, everything was broken. Tiwary was in for another dose. He would get more once we get back to Delhi. Even though we were glad to be on our machines, we were scarred by the injuries.
All of us gathered at Gyan's place. Nilu went off briefly to his home to clean up and returned later. We called up PayengDa also. We still had not met Mamaji. So, in effect, the Buccaneers had still not united in full strength.
Another treat night. A table was loaded with snacks at the second level. This was to be another amazing night. Our laughter must have reached the lower levels as well. We all narrated Gyan's smashing moments to PayengDa and enjoyed another hearty laugh. Those events would crack me up whenever they are recounted.
This day wasn't an easy one for us. We were saddened after leaving Bhutan. We were also worried as there was no news of our bikes. Nilu was worried about the transmission warning in his car. It started out as a dull day. But then grew into a wild, adrenaline rush. We took off early so that the border could be crossed in little traffic. But it was not to be. Nilu took some wrong turns and even though we were not much delayed by them, when we reached the border, the truck line had elongated to miles. This time, no diversion could be found. Doley was having a sore neck. But he would not take any medicine, saving the pain to be dulled by rice beer.
By this time, we did some minor abusing to Tiwary about his handling of the transportation. He kept on avoiding us. We stopped at a dhaba for a light meal. Nilu's little-known cousin had warned us to come with an empty stomach. The warning had to be taken seriously as we had seen what their breakfast meant. So, lunch would be leagues above. We had targeted to reach their place by 3 PM. As we left the dhaba, it was 1 PM.
We rang up Om Logistics ourselves to find out that the bikes had arrived. The trouble was, being Bihu time, their office would close at 4 PM and will remain shut for the next 2 days. No way we could reach Guwahati by that time. PayengDa had disturbing news of his own. Although, his interview had gone well, he had lost the receipt to collect his bike at Guwahati Railway Station. Murphy's Laws were all coming true.
All of a sudden, we were time bound. Frantic calls everywhere.
Gyan called up his father to reach Om Logistics and get the bikes outside the godown. Next call was to cousin's place to ask if we could skip lunch, or even get it packed if they had started preparing. Only a few minutes earlier, we were thinking of taking a beer-break before we reach the cousin's place. It would be a long wait before we could taste some more rice beer. But now, that option was chucked out. Our minds were racing. Nilu's was racing even faster as the onus was on him to make time. Plus, he was also racing his Fiesta. Only the transmission warning was slowing us down. On top of that, we were stopped by a number of Bihu dance groups who blocked the road and then asked for money. Even with the lack of alcohol, our intelligence wasn't failing us. We judged that since our ILPs were active from 16th, we could collect the bikes on 16th morning also and reach Bhalukpong by evening. Only that the bikes wouldn't be serviced. So, we hadn't reached critical point yet. But Nilu was not comforted. He said that we would be making even grander plans soon. He was right. But then, Nilu's cousin called and we could not escape them. We had to make a stop. So now, we had to eat up real fast, as fast as we had ever eaten. Still, even with the presence of gobblemouths, we would not be able to make it in less than half hour. To make matters worse, a certain Sumo Grande and a Tata Nano overtook us, that too with honks. Nilu was burnt crisp. But he was helpless. His car must have shared the sentiment because right then the warning light went off. We were back on full power.
Nilu came back in form. He overtook the two vehicles back, that too with honks. Sweet revenge. But at one instant, it came too close to comfort. Still, he and his vehicle had proved the point, and both of them relaxed. The warning light came back on.
Now, the news started getting better. Gyan's father had done it. We could collect the bikes from the godown at any instant today. That meant we could enjoy a full meal now. Now we got carried away and thought of more plans but Nilu stopped us.
We reached the cousin's place and enjoyed a hearty meal. Nilu presented them with gifts bought in Bhutan. Still, we were not relaxed. Our minds were with our machines. The food was a great distraction. Doley was the master here. He accepted everything, and more. He had been tolerating the pain in his neck for long. This was the treatment time. He even had good helpings of the rice beer.
Thanking our hosts again for their splendid hospitality, we started off again. Our moods were lifted up now. The weather had gone cloudy and a cool breeze was blowing. Doley had gotten high from all the rice beer and showed it. We were LOUD. Music volume turned high, Full headbanging in the backseat. His neck was cured for sure. A black Scorpio was encountered. Nilu played with it. He was playing with me also at the same time. GRRRRRRR. If only I had the wheel.
But as we reached Guwahati, we were in for a rude shock. We sighed on seeing our machines. Then at closer look, we were hit. All the bikes had sustained damage. Rear indicators were broken for most of them. Dutta's rear backrest had broken off. Doley's Classic suffered the hardest. Seeing a dent on a brand new bike is heart breaking. The petrol tank had a dent on it. The side box was badly scratched. The side stand had twisted and was unusable. Gyan's Karizma was in bad shape too. The fairing, the cowl, the console, everything was broken. Tiwary was in for another dose. He would get more once we get back to Delhi. Even though we were glad to be on our machines, we were scarred by the injuries.
All of us gathered at Gyan's place. Nilu went off briefly to his home to clean up and returned later. We called up PayengDa also. We still had not met Mamaji. So, in effect, the Buccaneers had still not united in full strength.
Another treat night. A table was loaded with snacks at the second level. This was to be another amazing night. Our laughter must have reached the lower levels as well. We all narrated Gyan's smashing moments to PayengDa and enjoyed another hearty laugh. Those events would crack me up whenever they are recounted.
Bike Preps in Guwahati
15 April 2011
All of us were up by, wait for it, 6 AM. Shocking. PayengDa had hardly slept the night before. Gyan was the last to wake up at 7. He was shocked to see all of us already finished with tea. Then we sat down for breakfast. It included, what else, gahori.
The day's plan was to get the motorcycles ready for the mountains of Arunachal. We did find two open shops nearby and then got the carriers fitted on the Bullets. Also, some other odd jobs. The mechanics at the Bullet shop were punjabis. They told us how difficult it was to get parts in that region. Nilu had arranged another bike for PayengDa. It was owned by a friend of his colleague. Nilu arrived late and then left with PayengDa to collect it. In between the two workshops was a theka. Doley and I made use of it and then Gyan came sniffing. He has superhuman capabilities. By 1 PM, all the bikes were ready. We took lunch nearby at a restaurant. Thats the great thing about Guwahati. Most restaurants serve non-veg, and that too, good non-veg, theres a theka to be found everywhere. It can beat Gurgaon in that aspect. This time the guys took fish while I opted for plain, old chicken. This would be my staple food in the second leg of the trip.
From this moment on, it was an anxious wait for the morning. We had planned to start on our motorcycles by 6 AM. So, we planned to drink low that night. But such plans seldom succeed. Old college buddies arrived at Nilu's place. It was great to meet Debajit Boro and Gyan Doley after so long. Still, the night did not go on very long and we were asleep by midnight. Awaken, 5 hours later.
All of us were up by, wait for it, 6 AM. Shocking. PayengDa had hardly slept the night before. Gyan was the last to wake up at 7. He was shocked to see all of us already finished with tea. Then we sat down for breakfast. It included, what else, gahori.
The day's plan was to get the motorcycles ready for the mountains of Arunachal. We did find two open shops nearby and then got the carriers fitted on the Bullets. Also, some other odd jobs. The mechanics at the Bullet shop were punjabis. They told us how difficult it was to get parts in that region. Nilu had arranged another bike for PayengDa. It was owned by a friend of his colleague. Nilu arrived late and then left with PayengDa to collect it. In between the two workshops was a theka. Doley and I made use of it and then Gyan came sniffing. He has superhuman capabilities. By 1 PM, all the bikes were ready. We took lunch nearby at a restaurant. Thats the great thing about Guwahati. Most restaurants serve non-veg, and that too, good non-veg, theres a theka to be found everywhere. It can beat Gurgaon in that aspect. This time the guys took fish while I opted for plain, old chicken. This would be my staple food in the second leg of the trip.
From this moment on, it was an anxious wait for the morning. We had planned to start on our motorcycles by 6 AM. So, we planned to drink low that night. But such plans seldom succeed. Old college buddies arrived at Nilu's place. It was great to meet Debajit Boro and Gyan Doley after so long. Still, the night did not go on very long and we were asleep by midnight. Awaken, 5 hours later.
Guwahati to Bhalukpong
16 April 2011
Today we ride. Excitement was paramount. It felt wonderful to tie the luggage after so long. We left Nilu's house at 6:30 AM. Gyan and Mamaji joined us near Gyan's home. This was the first time all seven Buccaneers were together. It was a high riding through the roads of Assam. But strangely, we were going at a very slow speed. The ones in the lead were thinking why the riders behind them were not gaining. The riders at the back were thinking why the ones in the front were not speeding up. Enough of the thinking, I gave the throttle. Assam has a lovely weather to ride in. Cool breezes accompany you everywhere. Another reason was that we were trying to stay clear of Dutta. The road condition at the byepass was excellent. But it grew bad as we reached Rajiv Chowk. It continued this way till the mighty Brahmaputra was crossed. That was another high feeling. They say this river holds more water than the Ganges and holds a very high current.
We were on NH-52, a new highway for me. Its a superb highway. The surroundings are very green. Being the only non-Assamese of the group, i asked the others what was the greenest time of the year. The reply was all around the year. Even though we were on plain ground, the road was meandering. So, there were lots of opportunities for our scraping Guru, Nilu. The only trouble are the groups of goats frequently crossing the road. We covered 60 kms quickly and then stopped at a roadside stall for tea. Omelettes were also ordered. Our destination was not far. So, we took it easy. The hydration pack I was gifted from Nishant Jha proved to be very useful.
As we moved on, Nilu's 200 started giving trouble. It was found that all the engine oil was missing. So, it had to be periodically topped up. Then the main stand started clanging against the body. We stopped at a local mechanic to get it fixed. We stayed for only 10 minutes, but we had attracted a large crowd in that time. Riders with their gears and loaded motorcycles tend to have that effect on people. It feels good to bring some excitement into their erstwhile boring lives.
We moved on to group up with the others. The others were smoking when we got there. Then, we found that the building just behind them was the National Rural Health Mission. Maybe, they knew it. We reached Tezpur by noon. PayengDa got the tyres of his rented bike changed as they had badly worn out. Nilu and Gyan went in search of their respective showrooms for minor jobs. I also searched for a Bullet mechanic, but they had no spares. So, the rest of us sat down besides the tyre shop thinking of what to do next. There was only one thing we could do. Doley and I went to get beer from the nearby shop. Dansberg 15000. The variety of beer in this trip was only increasing. We brought four bottles back to the tyre shop and waited for the rest to appear. The freedom of having beer by the roadside. The passing crowd wasn't bothered in the slightest. By this time, Gyan had also returned again proving his superhuman sniffing powers.
Nilu's expression was a sight when he returned. Its also recorded in one of Mamaji's videos. This was another trend on the trip. Whenever, Gyan and I were left alone, we were found some distance ahead at a theka.
We stopped for lunch at KF Lounge nearby. The lounge was a luxurious but affordable place. More beer bottles opened here. They also allowed smoking. You can't get such places in Delhi and Mumbai anymore.
After leaving the lounge, we took the turn towards Bhalukpong. The road started out well until we reached a roundabout. The way straight on was a muddy road. This was the road to Arunachal Pradesh. We knew we would be in for a dirty ride, but we had not expect to run into it so soon. We swerved and skidded our bikes forward. PayengDa had just had a close shave with a cow on the road. His leg guard had saved him.
The road did smoothen out later on, but only briefly. The closer we were got to the border, the greener it got. We had to make it to the border before 5 PM. We arrived there at 4:30 PM. All people crossing the border must carry the Inner Line Permit and sign up. Photography is strictly prohibited. But Mamaji didnt knew and was recording a video. He was promptly caught and made to turn off the camera.
Our hotel was only a short distance ahead. The last 35 kms had been tiring. But we reached to find a disturbing news. The agent had not informed the hotel manager about our bookings. We just lay around waiting for the manager to get in touch with the agent, but the call was not able to get through. It often happens in that region. But finally, things were sorted out and we went into our rooms. Each room was a different size. Without wasting any time, we freshened up and quickly gathered downstairs in the open lawn to start the evening assembly.
One of the three Blender's came out. I was tired from playing bartender for too long and this time, Gyan did the duties. We asked the experience of the new riders. After days of guffaws, this session was passing out slowly. But one man stood up to the occassion. Dutta, or John, as he's called henceforth. A stray cat was attracted to our table. And John got more attracted to the cat, or pussy. He then said something unthinkable. Meow. All of us were startled for a second and then burst out laughing. It didn't take long for the bottle to finish.
The manager now asked us to get our motorcycles down the flight of stairs into the garden, for safety purposes. Grand Theft Auto was high here being the border town. I was reluctant at first but when every other machine was parked in the garden, I gave in too. We went to sleep excitedly. Tomorrow we would be riding in one of the wildest terrains.
Today we ride. Excitement was paramount. It felt wonderful to tie the luggage after so long. We left Nilu's house at 6:30 AM. Gyan and Mamaji joined us near Gyan's home. This was the first time all seven Buccaneers were together. It was a high riding through the roads of Assam. But strangely, we were going at a very slow speed. The ones in the lead were thinking why the riders behind them were not gaining. The riders at the back were thinking why the ones in the front were not speeding up. Enough of the thinking, I gave the throttle. Assam has a lovely weather to ride in. Cool breezes accompany you everywhere. Another reason was that we were trying to stay clear of Dutta. The road condition at the byepass was excellent. But it grew bad as we reached Rajiv Chowk. It continued this way till the mighty Brahmaputra was crossed. That was another high feeling. They say this river holds more water than the Ganges and holds a very high current.
We were on NH-52, a new highway for me. Its a superb highway. The surroundings are very green. Being the only non-Assamese of the group, i asked the others what was the greenest time of the year. The reply was all around the year. Even though we were on plain ground, the road was meandering. So, there were lots of opportunities for our scraping Guru, Nilu. The only trouble are the groups of goats frequently crossing the road. We covered 60 kms quickly and then stopped at a roadside stall for tea. Omelettes were also ordered. Our destination was not far. So, we took it easy. The hydration pack I was gifted from Nishant Jha proved to be very useful.
As we moved on, Nilu's 200 started giving trouble. It was found that all the engine oil was missing. So, it had to be periodically topped up. Then the main stand started clanging against the body. We stopped at a local mechanic to get it fixed. We stayed for only 10 minutes, but we had attracted a large crowd in that time. Riders with their gears and loaded motorcycles tend to have that effect on people. It feels good to bring some excitement into their erstwhile boring lives.
We moved on to group up with the others. The others were smoking when we got there. Then, we found that the building just behind them was the National Rural Health Mission. Maybe, they knew it. We reached Tezpur by noon. PayengDa got the tyres of his rented bike changed as they had badly worn out. Nilu and Gyan went in search of their respective showrooms for minor jobs. I also searched for a Bullet mechanic, but they had no spares. So, the rest of us sat down besides the tyre shop thinking of what to do next. There was only one thing we could do. Doley and I went to get beer from the nearby shop. Dansberg 15000. The variety of beer in this trip was only increasing. We brought four bottles back to the tyre shop and waited for the rest to appear. The freedom of having beer by the roadside. The passing crowd wasn't bothered in the slightest. By this time, Gyan had also returned again proving his superhuman sniffing powers.
Nilu's expression was a sight when he returned. Its also recorded in one of Mamaji's videos. This was another trend on the trip. Whenever, Gyan and I were left alone, we were found some distance ahead at a theka.
We stopped for lunch at KF Lounge nearby. The lounge was a luxurious but affordable place. More beer bottles opened here. They also allowed smoking. You can't get such places in Delhi and Mumbai anymore.
After leaving the lounge, we took the turn towards Bhalukpong. The road started out well until we reached a roundabout. The way straight on was a muddy road. This was the road to Arunachal Pradesh. We knew we would be in for a dirty ride, but we had not expect to run into it so soon. We swerved and skidded our bikes forward. PayengDa had just had a close shave with a cow on the road. His leg guard had saved him.
The road did smoothen out later on, but only briefly. The closer we were got to the border, the greener it got. We had to make it to the border before 5 PM. We arrived there at 4:30 PM. All people crossing the border must carry the Inner Line Permit and sign up. Photography is strictly prohibited. But Mamaji didnt knew and was recording a video. He was promptly caught and made to turn off the camera.
Our hotel was only a short distance ahead. The last 35 kms had been tiring. But we reached to find a disturbing news. The agent had not informed the hotel manager about our bookings. We just lay around waiting for the manager to get in touch with the agent, but the call was not able to get through. It often happens in that region. But finally, things were sorted out and we went into our rooms. Each room was a different size. Without wasting any time, we freshened up and quickly gathered downstairs in the open lawn to start the evening assembly.
One of the three Blender's came out. I was tired from playing bartender for too long and this time, Gyan did the duties. We asked the experience of the new riders. After days of guffaws, this session was passing out slowly. But one man stood up to the occassion. Dutta, or John, as he's called henceforth. A stray cat was attracted to our table. And John got more attracted to the cat, or pussy. He then said something unthinkable. Meow. All of us were startled for a second and then burst out laughing. It didn't take long for the bottle to finish.
The manager now asked us to get our motorcycles down the flight of stairs into the garden, for safety purposes. Grand Theft Auto was high here being the border town. I was reluctant at first but when every other machine was parked in the garden, I gave in too. We went to sleep excitedly. Tomorrow we would be riding in one of the wildest terrains.
Bhalukpong to Dirang
Wild
KF red at Tenga
Fikar Not
Maneaters
two arunachali women in alto
dhaba rum - Mota bhai
17 April 2011
In the far east, you tend to wake up early. We were all ready and got down to haul the bikes up the stairs. My partners had failed to get pork for dinner this time. So, we made it sure it was available when we reach back to this place during the return trip. We had puri-sabzi as breakfast. Keeping the stops to minimum, we packed our stomachs and we were off. Our destination was 160 kms away.
Immediately, we encountered mud and slush. It continued this way for 25 kms. We would be in for a rough time during the return leg, and we sure were. For the time being, we were enjoying the wild roads. PayengDa was the busiest man as he took the lead and then took photographs of the riders in action.
After 25 kms, though we touched tarmac, we also got slopes. Arunachal roads are steep, very steep. The trucks we saw were having a tough time climbing the roads. We were able to cover only 25 kms an hour. Nilu stopped us seeing that one of my jerrycans was leaking. We emptied its contents into Doley's Bullet. The Classic was a real beast. It was pulling ahead effortlessly. After the ascent, came the descent. This was also a steep one. And then we saw military signs everywhere. BRO's Project Vartak. Amusing signboards of "Be Gentle on my Curves" were displayed here too. And then a haunting board, "You are entering Maneaters Zone". It turned out to be the Kumaon Maneaters Regiment. It was followed by the Fikar Not Regiment. There is high military presence in this state. Nilu and PayengDa were enjoying extended spells of photography. That left Gyan and me again in the lead. And then the inevitable happened. When we reached the Tenga town, we stopped for others to regroup. We had intended to stop at a tea stall. But right on the spot, was a wine shop. It was unintentional. Honest.
I'm always interested in tasting some new brand of beer. In small towns, light beer is rare. But the wine shop did offer KF Red. I hadn't seen this brand up north. Strangely, this was also sweet in taste. It must be due to the water being used in the breweries. We both waited to catch Nilu's expression. Its hilarious to see the "WTF" expression on his face.
As we finished our refreshers, others shopped for military goods in the neighbouring shop. Doley even bought jungle boots. These came out to be much helpful later on. Nilu needed more engine oil. A local biker took him to a shop where he could get one to match his specifications. Most of the bikes were R15s.
At one of the turns, PayengDa slipped and his bike fell to the ground. No damage to either man or machine as we carried on. Now, we were getting close to BomdiLa. It has been one of my long sought targets to reach that place. But when we reached there, all my perceptions about the place were washed off. I had imagined it be a mountain pass. It turned out to be a city. I had imagined it to have sub zero temperatures. It turned out to be a hotbed. It was also lunch time now. One of the locals suggested a place 5 kms after crossing the city. It was the best suggestion. The nameless dhaba turned out the most delicious meal that we would have in that state. Well cooked chicken and pork. The lady owner was very joyful herself. When we saw one of the other guests having a peg of rum, we also immediately a bottle for ourselves. It had to be mixed with water from a kettle. If ever someone is passing through that road, make sure you stop there for a meal. There's only this dhaba, 5 kms after crossing Bomdila. The server had high praise for us. He kept on repeating the words, "maan gaye aapko". He also spoke of the tremendous beauty of Tawang.
Dirang was only 35 kms away now. But 5 kms later, the road conditions again deteriorated. It was again slow pace till we reached our guest house, oddly named Awoo Resort. Yet again, our rooms were on the 2nd floor. Nilu had been in contact with his boss in Guwahati and we met him and another colleague here. Nilu frequently has drinks with him and he turned out to be a jovial person. The trouble was he was often called back by his family who disproved of his drinking habit.
The following day we would be reaching our destination, Tawang.
KF red at Tenga
Fikar Not
Maneaters
two arunachali women in alto
dhaba rum - Mota bhai
17 April 2011
In the far east, you tend to wake up early. We were all ready and got down to haul the bikes up the stairs. My partners had failed to get pork for dinner this time. So, we made it sure it was available when we reach back to this place during the return trip. We had puri-sabzi as breakfast. Keeping the stops to minimum, we packed our stomachs and we were off. Our destination was 160 kms away.
Immediately, we encountered mud and slush. It continued this way for 25 kms. We would be in for a rough time during the return leg, and we sure were. For the time being, we were enjoying the wild roads. PayengDa was the busiest man as he took the lead and then took photographs of the riders in action.
After 25 kms, though we touched tarmac, we also got slopes. Arunachal roads are steep, very steep. The trucks we saw were having a tough time climbing the roads. We were able to cover only 25 kms an hour. Nilu stopped us seeing that one of my jerrycans was leaking. We emptied its contents into Doley's Bullet. The Classic was a real beast. It was pulling ahead effortlessly. After the ascent, came the descent. This was also a steep one. And then we saw military signs everywhere. BRO's Project Vartak. Amusing signboards of "Be Gentle on my Curves" were displayed here too. And then a haunting board, "You are entering Maneaters Zone". It turned out to be the Kumaon Maneaters Regiment. It was followed by the Fikar Not Regiment. There is high military presence in this state. Nilu and PayengDa were enjoying extended spells of photography. That left Gyan and me again in the lead. And then the inevitable happened. When we reached the Tenga town, we stopped for others to regroup. We had intended to stop at a tea stall. But right on the spot, was a wine shop. It was unintentional. Honest.
I'm always interested in tasting some new brand of beer. In small towns, light beer is rare. But the wine shop did offer KF Red. I hadn't seen this brand up north. Strangely, this was also sweet in taste. It must be due to the water being used in the breweries. We both waited to catch Nilu's expression. Its hilarious to see the "WTF" expression on his face.
As we finished our refreshers, others shopped for military goods in the neighbouring shop. Doley even bought jungle boots. These came out to be much helpful later on. Nilu needed more engine oil. A local biker took him to a shop where he could get one to match his specifications. Most of the bikes were R15s.
At one of the turns, PayengDa slipped and his bike fell to the ground. No damage to either man or machine as we carried on. Now, we were getting close to BomdiLa. It has been one of my long sought targets to reach that place. But when we reached there, all my perceptions about the place were washed off. I had imagined it be a mountain pass. It turned out to be a city. I had imagined it to have sub zero temperatures. It turned out to be a hotbed. It was also lunch time now. One of the locals suggested a place 5 kms after crossing the city. It was the best suggestion. The nameless dhaba turned out the most delicious meal that we would have in that state. Well cooked chicken and pork. The lady owner was very joyful herself. When we saw one of the other guests having a peg of rum, we also immediately a bottle for ourselves. It had to be mixed with water from a kettle. If ever someone is passing through that road, make sure you stop there for a meal. There's only this dhaba, 5 kms after crossing Bomdila. The server had high praise for us. He kept on repeating the words, "maan gaye aapko". He also spoke of the tremendous beauty of Tawang.
Dirang was only 35 kms away now. But 5 kms later, the road conditions again deteriorated. It was again slow pace till we reached our guest house, oddly named Awoo Resort. Yet again, our rooms were on the 2nd floor. Nilu had been in contact with his boss in Guwahati and we met him and another colleague here. Nilu frequently has drinks with him and he turned out to be a jovial person. The trouble was he was often called back by his family who disproved of his drinking habit.
The following day we would be reaching our destination, Tawang.
Dirang to Tawang
18 April 2011
In the morning, we woke up to load our bikes again. Nilu's colleagues were going to stay for another day at Dirang. They suggested us to visit PTSO lake at Tawang. We had 140 kms to cover today. As we were packing our luggage, PayengDa happened to cut his finger. He was applied first aid. Luckily, it was not serious enough to limit his riding capabilities.
The road was smooth for some distance. Then the ascent to Sela Pass, alt. 13700ft, started. This was the first and only pass we would be traversing on our trip. Mountain passes have a different thrill. It gives a sense of accompalishment as you cross one threshold and enter another. It was on the foothills, that we stopped for our first break. Suddenly, we saw PayengDa on the ground. He must have tripped or something and we burst out laughing. We were also regretting that Gyan, our main fall guy, hadn't fallen yet. This was all the more amusing to Gyan.
As we climbed higher, temperature began to drop. We stopped at an Army canteen 22 kms before the pass for breakfast. It also had an interesting tagline:
The canteen served us with dosas and veg biryani. The jawan serving us also refered to us as Sir. This was embarassing for us and we requested him not to. These are the soldiers guarding the extremities of our country in the extremes of climate against our toughest enemy. And yet, he was humble enough to call us as Sir. It was ovewhelming.
We saw more tourists heading towards Tawang. Mostly are government employess from Bengal and Assam. As we climbed higher, we also found snow. And then we were on top. Snow and mist surrounded us. A large lake was located nearby. It looked like a scene from heaven. We had our group photograph here. John chose to be aloof and waited for us some distance ahead.
The road downhill was superb. We passed through yet another military area where photography was prohibited. But the scenery around us was fantastic. Picture a stream running downhill through snow-clad mountains with yaks grazing around it. Some distance ahead, we stopped at Jaswantgarh. This is a war memorial dedicated to Rifleman Jaswant Singh. It is in memory of three soldiers who fought against the Chinese Army in the 1962 war. Lesser armed they managed to seize an MMG reigning hell over the Indian Army after a 72 hour battle. Their action broke the invincible image of the Chinese. Even today, his bed is arranged and a meal is placed in the memorial. Stories of valour where soldiers sacrifice their lives while we measly people squabble about insignificant things like parking space in our cities.
Another officer posted on the eastern front of Arunachal met us here. He was visiting Tawang on some work. It is a routine for Army personnel to pay homage here whenever they pass. Maj. Arjun admired our enthusiasm to ride to Tawang all the way from Guwahati. He also told us about his younger brother who also trips frequently but not on motorcycle.
Our next stop was Jung. Just before the city limits started, we stopped at a dhaba for lunch. Right next door was a wine shop. There was only one thing to do. The wine shop was being managed by a mother with her child sitting right next to her. Women's Liberation. The variety of beer it offered was tremendous. Even pints were available. We chose Carlsbergs and Tuborgs. Then had a hefty lunch of chicken and rice. Needless to say, it was delicious. Some schoolkids got attracted to the seven bikes parked outside. We also had some fun with them putting our helmets and gloves on them. I hope some of them grow up to be riders.Before leaving the dhaba, we asked for directions to Jung Falls. It was just 7 kms away. The Falls are not visible until you make the final turn. And then, you are dwarfed by the sheer size of the Falls. This place came highly recommended. As is our affinity, whenever we see water, we get the tendency to take a dip in it. The weather was turning cloudy and it was getting cold. What better way to shoo it away than to take a dip in the chilling water.
So, Doley, PayengDa, Nilu and I stripped down and ran towards the Falls. But as closer we got to the foot of the falls, the scarier it sounded. The force of the water sounded enormous. To build up our bravery we took a swig of the Blender's with us and moved forwards. It took a good 5-6 swigs to get us as close to the foot as possible. But there was no more courage to gather. We were already being blinded by the spray. The cold water stung at each part of the body. Icicles like spray was applying acupressure. So we chose the smaller fall just near the main one to shower ourselves. Even here the pressure was great. Gyan chose a longer route to get close to us to click some priceless photographs.
We must have showered for 20 minutes. It is a good therapy to stay warm. Little did we know what was in store for us. Near the Falls, Nilu and I had made the mistake of shouting out aloud, "C'mon, Is that all you got?". Someone above did not like that humour. The punishment came later on.
As we reached back to our motorcycles, a large number of vehicles started arriving. Some delegates were visiting Tawang. What was unusual was that they made way for the motorcycles to pass through. In the north, if such a case happens, you are yelled at to make way for the VIP, even pushed and shoved. Just as we were leaving a lady, most probably from Arunachal only, stopped me and asked,
"Are you Riders from outside Arunachal?"
Me - "Yes. from Assam. We are coming from Guwahati"
Ma'am - "You're riding all the way to Tawang from Guwahati?"
Me - "Yes Ma'am"
Ma'am - "Ride Safe"
Me - "Thank You"
Now, friends and family will vouch that I'm not a frequent user of that phrase, but it was the words that Ma'am used that were striking. First of all, she used the word "Rider" and not "Biker". Then the parting words that are used by each and everyone of us, "Ride Safe".
Tawang was only 30 kms away. But the sun had set and clouds were hovering above us. Only a short distance later, it started to drizzle. We stopped and put on our rain suits. Nilu was little skeptical about this given the distance left, but he also put it on. It was a damn good thing that he did because 5 kms later, the drizzle turned into a downpour. PayengDa did not have one. And then it grew worse.
20 kms separated us from our destination. It had gotten dark now and the rain was getting heavier. Until this point, Gyan was leading. But he is handicapped at night. So, he asked me to take the lead. I did and then hailstorm started. I could imagine how the bass drum of SLAYER must feel like in concerts because the hail was beating us relentlessly. So much for "Is that all you got?". The roads were all slushed as mud and stones were rolling on it. It felt as if we were riding on a river, a 20 km long river. Second gear was rarely engaged. Tarmac was hard to locate. With Nilu guiding his headlight behind me, we were able to add more light on the view ahead and navigate. But many a times, it was just feet-down-high-throttle-drag-through. Lightning did help us. Later, Nilu pointed out how he could see lightning below our eye level, but I was just too scared to look sideways. As we got closer to the town, along with stones and mud, came filth. There is too much garbage in the city. It took us 2 hours to cover 30 kms and finally we were in the city.
When we reached our hotel, there was no parking space. So, the attendant suggested the branch 1.5 kms ahead. It was still raining heavily. He got on the back of PayengDa's bike and we followed him to the second hotel. The roads of this town are steep, very steep, highly steep. The weather made sure that our engines did not overheat. We parked our motorcycles on reaching the second hotel and just stood there under the shelter for 10 minutes. It was exhausting. The last 20 kms had drained us. Unloading was a huge task. It must have been mind over matter that we got our things to our rooms, again on the second floor.
All the rooms had heaters. Soon, we were out of our wets and into dries. We absorbed all the heat from the heaters. Dinner was vegetarian. We were all disappointed on having vegetables after such a prolonged spell of meat. A few pegs of rum also helped in getting warm. Sleep came easily.
In the morning, we woke up to load our bikes again. Nilu's colleagues were going to stay for another day at Dirang. They suggested us to visit PTSO lake at Tawang. We had 140 kms to cover today. As we were packing our luggage, PayengDa happened to cut his finger. He was applied first aid. Luckily, it was not serious enough to limit his riding capabilities.
The road was smooth for some distance. Then the ascent to Sela Pass, alt. 13700ft, started. This was the first and only pass we would be traversing on our trip. Mountain passes have a different thrill. It gives a sense of accompalishment as you cross one threshold and enter another. It was on the foothills, that we stopped for our first break. Suddenly, we saw PayengDa on the ground. He must have tripped or something and we burst out laughing. We were also regretting that Gyan, our main fall guy, hadn't fallen yet. This was all the more amusing to Gyan.
As we climbed higher, temperature began to drop. We stopped at an Army canteen 22 kms before the pass for breakfast. It also had an interesting tagline:
The canteen served us with dosas and veg biryani. The jawan serving us also refered to us as Sir. This was embarassing for us and we requested him not to. These are the soldiers guarding the extremities of our country in the extremes of climate against our toughest enemy. And yet, he was humble enough to call us as Sir. It was ovewhelming.
We saw more tourists heading towards Tawang. Mostly are government employess from Bengal and Assam. As we climbed higher, we also found snow. And then we were on top. Snow and mist surrounded us. A large lake was located nearby. It looked like a scene from heaven. We had our group photograph here. John chose to be aloof and waited for us some distance ahead.
The road downhill was superb. We passed through yet another military area where photography was prohibited. But the scenery around us was fantastic. Picture a stream running downhill through snow-clad mountains with yaks grazing around it. Some distance ahead, we stopped at Jaswantgarh. This is a war memorial dedicated to Rifleman Jaswant Singh. It is in memory of three soldiers who fought against the Chinese Army in the 1962 war. Lesser armed they managed to seize an MMG reigning hell over the Indian Army after a 72 hour battle. Their action broke the invincible image of the Chinese. Even today, his bed is arranged and a meal is placed in the memorial. Stories of valour where soldiers sacrifice their lives while we measly people squabble about insignificant things like parking space in our cities.
Another officer posted on the eastern front of Arunachal met us here. He was visiting Tawang on some work. It is a routine for Army personnel to pay homage here whenever they pass. Maj. Arjun admired our enthusiasm to ride to Tawang all the way from Guwahati. He also told us about his younger brother who also trips frequently but not on motorcycle.
Our next stop was Jung. Just before the city limits started, we stopped at a dhaba for lunch. Right next door was a wine shop. There was only one thing to do. The wine shop was being managed by a mother with her child sitting right next to her. Women's Liberation. The variety of beer it offered was tremendous. Even pints were available. We chose Carlsbergs and Tuborgs. Then had a hefty lunch of chicken and rice. Needless to say, it was delicious. Some schoolkids got attracted to the seven bikes parked outside. We also had some fun with them putting our helmets and gloves on them. I hope some of them grow up to be riders.Before leaving the dhaba, we asked for directions to Jung Falls. It was just 7 kms away. The Falls are not visible until you make the final turn. And then, you are dwarfed by the sheer size of the Falls. This place came highly recommended. As is our affinity, whenever we see water, we get the tendency to take a dip in it. The weather was turning cloudy and it was getting cold. What better way to shoo it away than to take a dip in the chilling water.
So, Doley, PayengDa, Nilu and I stripped down and ran towards the Falls. But as closer we got to the foot of the falls, the scarier it sounded. The force of the water sounded enormous. To build up our bravery we took a swig of the Blender's with us and moved forwards. It took a good 5-6 swigs to get us as close to the foot as possible. But there was no more courage to gather. We were already being blinded by the spray. The cold water stung at each part of the body. Icicles like spray was applying acupressure. So we chose the smaller fall just near the main one to shower ourselves. Even here the pressure was great. Gyan chose a longer route to get close to us to click some priceless photographs.
We must have showered for 20 minutes. It is a good therapy to stay warm. Little did we know what was in store for us. Near the Falls, Nilu and I had made the mistake of shouting out aloud, "C'mon, Is that all you got?". Someone above did not like that humour. The punishment came later on.
As we reached back to our motorcycles, a large number of vehicles started arriving. Some delegates were visiting Tawang. What was unusual was that they made way for the motorcycles to pass through. In the north, if such a case happens, you are yelled at to make way for the VIP, even pushed and shoved. Just as we were leaving a lady, most probably from Arunachal only, stopped me and asked,
"Are you Riders from outside Arunachal?"
Me - "Yes. from Assam. We are coming from Guwahati"
Ma'am - "You're riding all the way to Tawang from Guwahati?"
Me - "Yes Ma'am"
Ma'am - "Ride Safe"
Me - "Thank You"
Now, friends and family will vouch that I'm not a frequent user of that phrase, but it was the words that Ma'am used that were striking. First of all, she used the word "Rider" and not "Biker". Then the parting words that are used by each and everyone of us, "Ride Safe".
Tawang was only 30 kms away. But the sun had set and clouds were hovering above us. Only a short distance later, it started to drizzle. We stopped and put on our rain suits. Nilu was little skeptical about this given the distance left, but he also put it on. It was a damn good thing that he did because 5 kms later, the drizzle turned into a downpour. PayengDa did not have one. And then it grew worse.
20 kms separated us from our destination. It had gotten dark now and the rain was getting heavier. Until this point, Gyan was leading. But he is handicapped at night. So, he asked me to take the lead. I did and then hailstorm started. I could imagine how the bass drum of SLAYER must feel like in concerts because the hail was beating us relentlessly. So much for "Is that all you got?". The roads were all slushed as mud and stones were rolling on it. It felt as if we were riding on a river, a 20 km long river. Second gear was rarely engaged. Tarmac was hard to locate. With Nilu guiding his headlight behind me, we were able to add more light on the view ahead and navigate. But many a times, it was just feet-down-high-throttle-drag-through. Lightning did help us. Later, Nilu pointed out how he could see lightning below our eye level, but I was just too scared to look sideways. As we got closer to the town, along with stones and mud, came filth. There is too much garbage in the city. It took us 2 hours to cover 30 kms and finally we were in the city.
When we reached our hotel, there was no parking space. So, the attendant suggested the branch 1.5 kms ahead. It was still raining heavily. He got on the back of PayengDa's bike and we followed him to the second hotel. The roads of this town are steep, very steep, highly steep. The weather made sure that our engines did not overheat. We parked our motorcycles on reaching the second hotel and just stood there under the shelter for 10 minutes. It was exhausting. The last 20 kms had drained us. Unloading was a huge task. It must have been mind over matter that we got our things to our rooms, again on the second floor.
All the rooms had heaters. Soon, we were out of our wets and into dries. We absorbed all the heat from the heaters. Dinner was vegetarian. We were all disappointed on having vegetables after such a prolonged spell of meat. A few pegs of rum also helped in getting warm. Sleep came easily.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Tawang stay
no luck day
round and round
Heli crash
Chhang Gela
17 April 2011
We had expected to stay asleep for a long time. But still, we were wide awake at 8 AM. I had woken up even earlier at 7 AM and got in conversation with one of the cab drivers on the places to visit. He suggested Madhuri Lake, 50 kms away. The place is known for shooting of the film, Koyla. Yes, we also suspect that the name of the lake was changed after the shoot. The road to the lake is said to be a tough one.
After having tea, we set out to explore the town. Nilu was leading. Dutta had chosen to stay in the room and dry off his riding clothes. It turned out to be a very wise decision. We were also carrying with us the cook at the hotel so that he could shop for chicken for our dinner. After dropping him off, we went to the nearby petrol pump to fill up our bikes. We got numerous stares on our way. Now, Nilu started to ask for directions towards the lake. We followed him. Again, the stares. Now, he made a U-Turn and headed the other way. We followed. Stared at again. On asking for directions ahead, he again U-turned. We followed. Now the stares were turning into glares. We stopped at the ATM for a while. A man came up to me and said Hello. He reeked of alcohol. At 10 AM in the morning. People are a happy lot. He asked to be dropped some distance ahead. I mumbled something about going the other way and took off. We did go some distance ahead and then again U-turned. WTF!
After some more U-turns and glares, we thought we were heading in the right direction in a near vertical climb. Suddenly, Gyan's Karizma turned off. He had some electric issue. The connection was breaking while turning the handle towards the left. So, he could ride but turn only in the right direction. We came down again, crossed the same road yet again and stopped at a mechanic. He opened quite a lot of parts and arrived at the problem. A broken wire. This was fixed. We asked the same guy about apong, the local rice beer. He pointed us to two shops nearby. Nilu and I discovered them to be ahaatas. But when we stepped inside, we found some locals having beer. On asking the caretaker, we were told that nobody drinks that anymore. Modern breweries had taken over.
Since, it was late now, we dropped the idea of going to Madhuri lake and chose the nearby PTSO lake, 12 kms away. But first, we needed some food. Dragon restaurant fooled us saying it would take one hour to prepare our meal. So, we went to a Assamese restaurant nearby and ordered chicken thalis. The owner was an Assamese too and he told us that he would find some rice beer for us. We could collect it in the evening. After a hefty lunch, we set off for PTSO, 12 kms away. Again, the market rounds continued. When we finally started going in the right direction, Nilu and I were stopped at a military check post. The others had sped away by this time. He asked for ILPs. We had left them in the rooms, so Nilu had to go back to retrieve them. Then, another senior military man came forward and told us that the entry time to go upto PTSO was over. He could not allow us to go forward. Even if he allowed us, the check post up ahead would stop us. We had simply run out of luck.
That was when the tragedy happened. A man came running and told us that a helicopter had crashed at the local helipad. We reached back to our hotel and from the roof, we could see smoke on the mountain opposite. Details came later. A Pawan Hans helicopter had crashed killing 17 people. The pilot and co-pilot had bailed out before the crash. The whole market closed. These are decade old choppers and are still operating. More such tragedies are just waiting to happen unless these copters are decomissioned.
There was nothing left for us to do now. After sometime, Gyan went out to bring the Chhaang. He returned with a 2 litres bottle costing Rs 20. Most didn't like the taste. They said it was some low-quality chhaang. I, on the other hand, was having glassfuls of it, non-stop. It was not having any effect. I wondered what all the commotion was about. It must have been a rare event that the bottle went unfinished amongst us.
We went to sleep early as the following day was going to be Hard Ride day.
round and round
Heli crash
Chhang Gela
17 April 2011
We had expected to stay asleep for a long time. But still, we were wide awake at 8 AM. I had woken up even earlier at 7 AM and got in conversation with one of the cab drivers on the places to visit. He suggested Madhuri Lake, 50 kms away. The place is known for shooting of the film, Koyla. Yes, we also suspect that the name of the lake was changed after the shoot. The road to the lake is said to be a tough one.
After having tea, we set out to explore the town. Nilu was leading. Dutta had chosen to stay in the room and dry off his riding clothes. It turned out to be a very wise decision. We were also carrying with us the cook at the hotel so that he could shop for chicken for our dinner. After dropping him off, we went to the nearby petrol pump to fill up our bikes. We got numerous stares on our way. Now, Nilu started to ask for directions towards the lake. We followed him. Again, the stares. Now, he made a U-Turn and headed the other way. We followed. Stared at again. On asking for directions ahead, he again U-turned. We followed. Now the stares were turning into glares. We stopped at the ATM for a while. A man came up to me and said Hello. He reeked of alcohol. At 10 AM in the morning. People are a happy lot. He asked to be dropped some distance ahead. I mumbled something about going the other way and took off. We did go some distance ahead and then again U-turned. WTF!
After some more U-turns and glares, we thought we were heading in the right direction in a near vertical climb. Suddenly, Gyan's Karizma turned off. He had some electric issue. The connection was breaking while turning the handle towards the left. So, he could ride but turn only in the right direction. We came down again, crossed the same road yet again and stopped at a mechanic. He opened quite a lot of parts and arrived at the problem. A broken wire. This was fixed. We asked the same guy about apong, the local rice beer. He pointed us to two shops nearby. Nilu and I discovered them to be ahaatas. But when we stepped inside, we found some locals having beer. On asking the caretaker, we were told that nobody drinks that anymore. Modern breweries had taken over.
Since, it was late now, we dropped the idea of going to Madhuri lake and chose the nearby PTSO lake, 12 kms away. But first, we needed some food. Dragon restaurant fooled us saying it would take one hour to prepare our meal. So, we went to a Assamese restaurant nearby and ordered chicken thalis. The owner was an Assamese too and he told us that he would find some rice beer for us. We could collect it in the evening. After a hefty lunch, we set off for PTSO, 12 kms away. Again, the market rounds continued. When we finally started going in the right direction, Nilu and I were stopped at a military check post. The others had sped away by this time. He asked for ILPs. We had left them in the rooms, so Nilu had to go back to retrieve them. Then, another senior military man came forward and told us that the entry time to go upto PTSO was over. He could not allow us to go forward. Even if he allowed us, the check post up ahead would stop us. We had simply run out of luck.
That was when the tragedy happened. A man came running and told us that a helicopter had crashed at the local helipad. We reached back to our hotel and from the roof, we could see smoke on the mountain opposite. Details came later. A Pawan Hans helicopter had crashed killing 17 people. The pilot and co-pilot had bailed out before the crash. The whole market closed. These are decade old choppers and are still operating. More such tragedies are just waiting to happen unless these copters are decomissioned.
There was nothing left for us to do now. After sometime, Gyan went out to bring the Chhaang. He returned with a 2 litres bottle costing Rs 20. Most didn't like the taste. They said it was some low-quality chhaang. I, on the other hand, was having glassfuls of it, non-stop. It was not having any effect. I wondered what all the commotion was about. It must have been a rare event that the bottle went unfinished amongst us.
We went to sleep early as the following day was going to be Hard Ride day.
Tawang to Bhalukpong
20 April 2011
Today was going to be a marathon riding day. Until now, we had been enjoying a relaxing ride. But today, we were going to attempt something big. What we had covered with a two-stop strategy, we would be now doing with a one-stop strategy. That meant, two days worth of travel to be covered in a single day.
The target was not big. 285 kms. But given the terrain, it was large. First of all, we had to leave very early. This, we did, at 6 AM. The town was just waking up so we avoided all the glares of previous day. This time we did take the short cut. Being early morning, the mud still had not dried and it was a slushy ride again. We kept our breaks to a minimum. Only after 10 kms of riding, we were engulfed in heavy mist. And then from the mist, Army horses appeared. It must be their daily routine, but looked like a mystical land to us. PayengDa couldnt help clicking a few photographs despite our tight schedule. Those photographs really turned out well.
We crossed Jung Falls again, then took a short tea break at Jaswantgarh. Doley had suddenly turned over a new leaf. He was flying. At Jaswantgarh, we were met by another Army officer of Rajasthan Rifles. He wished us all the best. We were ascending Sela pass now. As we reached higher, the windier it got. Fresh snow began to appear. It must have snowed here the night before. Then, at the top of the pass, we were completely surrounded by snow. It was such an attractive sight that Nilu fell from his bike. This is one of the most unusual incidents. Nilu sticks to his saddle. To see our regular fall guy, Gyan helping him up was like seeing a sight in a parallel universe. Looking at his limp, he had suffered a hit. The strong wind at the Sela top forced us to leave that place quickly. We would be checking on the injuries once we were in warmer climate.
The way down was even more treachorous. If a turn happened to be in the path of the blowing wind, the rider and his machine were pushed towards the edge of the cliff. We had to keep our hands strong on the handlebars. As soon as it grew warm, we stopped to soak in the warmth. Nilu had grown numb to the cold by now. So his wound was not hurting.
We stopped again at the Army cafeteria to have some tea. The cold at Sela Pass had really shaken us. We had decided to stop for a meal at the same dhaba, 5 kms before Bomdila. This ride had not been a culinary delight. That dhaba was the only one that provided some lip-smacks. We reached Dirang at 11 AM. So far, we were making good time. Gyan had been racing ahead all this while so that he could stop at Dirang and have a smoke. But then, so had been the others. He had little lead when the others overtook. At this point it seemed that we would be able to cover the most treachorous part, the last 25 kms in daylight. But soon, we were again shown God's sense of humour. We were less than a km away from the dhaba. Most of us had even reached that point. Doley and I were trailing. We were stopped by Mamaji. His R15's rear tyre had punctured. From passerbys, we came to know that a puncture shop would be a km ahead. I took Mamaji's luggage over my carrier. He rode slowly ahead on the wobbly Yamaha. Doley had gone ahead and stopped at the puncture shop. We reached the shop to find 4-5 dudes managing the shop. Inside the shop, they had a guitar. Fancy mechanics. Unfortunately, no power. Fortunately, we had a foot pump. The guys managed to complete the job in 15 minutes. During this time, we had a good time chatting with them and they admired our gear and machines.
We reached the dhaba and settled down for a couple of pegs and a hearty meal. We were almost on empty stomachs. Gyan then narrated his incident as he reached the dhaba. He had almost ran over the owner. Aunty blasted at him, "Ud ke jaaoge kya?". We complimented them saying how their food was the best we had had in the entire state. A bottle of rum was packed along for the night. There was no knowing what time we would reach Bhalukpong.
We were again behind schedule. Gyan pointed out how no matter how hard we pushed, we were making an average of 25 kms an hour. Since, the road conditions were improved from here on, we decided to push for a greater distance this time. We really did. In 2 hours, our average did improve. When we were just 5 kms from Nechiphu, clouds enveloped us. It was time to put on the raincoats. It seemed we would be again in for as rough time as we had when reaching Tawang. Visibility was now down to 5 meters. Pace was very slow. We stopped at Nechiphu to regroup. We passed the time by having beer. Not waiting for long, we started off again.
We stuck in a single file for the rest of the journey. Darkness fell and we were 15 kms short of our target. But these 15 kms was the worst stretch of today. We had experienced it earlier, but in daytime. It was now dark, slightly drizzling. That had really slushed up our way. Again, the first-gear-hands-tight-feet-drag approach. We were exhausted. Each one tried a different approach to cheer themselves up. First was Dutta. He started giving motivational speeches to himself, loudly. We could overhear words like, "C'mon Fuckers, Go". Doley went off in an entirely different direction when he was leading. We all followed him almost to the edge of the mountain. We saved our humour for the destination.
Nilu's arm was aching as the wound started to act. I could not imagine how he was still managing to ride over this rough path. At one instant, PayengDa lost his balance and went to the ground. His foot was stuck under the bike. It took the rest of us some time to park our bikes and reach him. He managed to stick to his position this entire time. A govt. vehicle came from behind us and yelled as to why we were blocking the path and then noticed the fallen rider. That official must have travelled far north to gain that attitude.
PayengDa was not injured. His jacket had protected him. Such incidents make it worthwhile to buy all that stuff. We crawled along. This had turned out to be the most demanding stretch. We were already tired from the long spell of today. Some of the guys cheered on reaching the next civilization only to realize that Bhalukpong was still 5 kms away. When you are continuously under stress for an extended period of time, there comes an instant when you go numb to the things happening around you and just play along. The advantage of such a state is that you can keep going without actually feeling the exhaustion. The disadvantage is that you can hit the breaking point at any time without warning and that point can be lethal. We had reached that instant. We kept on riding on and on.
But we made it to Bhalukpong. It was ecstatic. We sounded our horns in a musical symphony till we reached the destination, Hotel Solu. But not before Nilu again led us astray onto a different path. Doley was so excited on reaching the hotel that he almost rode all the way on the ramp laid out for our motorcycles to take them down the stairs. He did regain his senses and stopped. We had the same rooms booked for us. After the ordeal, came the ecstasy. As we freshened up, dinner was served in the room. Huge handis, full of Rice and Pork. I got treated with a casserole full of chicken. But first came the congratulatory drink on the feat achieved. Although, the high of achievement was still there, some of us were not able to contain the exhaustion. I was one of them and went to sleep midway. All such dozers were woken up later to have dinner. The quantity was simply too much. We ate all that we could and went to a fullfilling sleep.
Today was going to be a marathon riding day. Until now, we had been enjoying a relaxing ride. But today, we were going to attempt something big. What we had covered with a two-stop strategy, we would be now doing with a one-stop strategy. That meant, two days worth of travel to be covered in a single day.
The target was not big. 285 kms. But given the terrain, it was large. First of all, we had to leave very early. This, we did, at 6 AM. The town was just waking up so we avoided all the glares of previous day. This time we did take the short cut. Being early morning, the mud still had not dried and it was a slushy ride again. We kept our breaks to a minimum. Only after 10 kms of riding, we were engulfed in heavy mist. And then from the mist, Army horses appeared. It must be their daily routine, but looked like a mystical land to us. PayengDa couldnt help clicking a few photographs despite our tight schedule. Those photographs really turned out well.
We crossed Jung Falls again, then took a short tea break at Jaswantgarh. Doley had suddenly turned over a new leaf. He was flying. At Jaswantgarh, we were met by another Army officer of Rajasthan Rifles. He wished us all the best. We were ascending Sela pass now. As we reached higher, the windier it got. Fresh snow began to appear. It must have snowed here the night before. Then, at the top of the pass, we were completely surrounded by snow. It was such an attractive sight that Nilu fell from his bike. This is one of the most unusual incidents. Nilu sticks to his saddle. To see our regular fall guy, Gyan helping him up was like seeing a sight in a parallel universe. Looking at his limp, he had suffered a hit. The strong wind at the Sela top forced us to leave that place quickly. We would be checking on the injuries once we were in warmer climate.
The way down was even more treachorous. If a turn happened to be in the path of the blowing wind, the rider and his machine were pushed towards the edge of the cliff. We had to keep our hands strong on the handlebars. As soon as it grew warm, we stopped to soak in the warmth. Nilu had grown numb to the cold by now. So his wound was not hurting.
We stopped again at the Army cafeteria to have some tea. The cold at Sela Pass had really shaken us. We had decided to stop for a meal at the same dhaba, 5 kms before Bomdila. This ride had not been a culinary delight. That dhaba was the only one that provided some lip-smacks. We reached Dirang at 11 AM. So far, we were making good time. Gyan had been racing ahead all this while so that he could stop at Dirang and have a smoke. But then, so had been the others. He had little lead when the others overtook. At this point it seemed that we would be able to cover the most treachorous part, the last 25 kms in daylight. But soon, we were again shown God's sense of humour. We were less than a km away from the dhaba. Most of us had even reached that point. Doley and I were trailing. We were stopped by Mamaji. His R15's rear tyre had punctured. From passerbys, we came to know that a puncture shop would be a km ahead. I took Mamaji's luggage over my carrier. He rode slowly ahead on the wobbly Yamaha. Doley had gone ahead and stopped at the puncture shop. We reached the shop to find 4-5 dudes managing the shop. Inside the shop, they had a guitar. Fancy mechanics. Unfortunately, no power. Fortunately, we had a foot pump. The guys managed to complete the job in 15 minutes. During this time, we had a good time chatting with them and they admired our gear and machines.
We reached the dhaba and settled down for a couple of pegs and a hearty meal. We were almost on empty stomachs. Gyan then narrated his incident as he reached the dhaba. He had almost ran over the owner. Aunty blasted at him, "Ud ke jaaoge kya?". We complimented them saying how their food was the best we had had in the entire state. A bottle of rum was packed along for the night. There was no knowing what time we would reach Bhalukpong.
We were again behind schedule. Gyan pointed out how no matter how hard we pushed, we were making an average of 25 kms an hour. Since, the road conditions were improved from here on, we decided to push for a greater distance this time. We really did. In 2 hours, our average did improve. When we were just 5 kms from Nechiphu, clouds enveloped us. It was time to put on the raincoats. It seemed we would be again in for as rough time as we had when reaching Tawang. Visibility was now down to 5 meters. Pace was very slow. We stopped at Nechiphu to regroup. We passed the time by having beer. Not waiting for long, we started off again.
We stuck in a single file for the rest of the journey. Darkness fell and we were 15 kms short of our target. But these 15 kms was the worst stretch of today. We had experienced it earlier, but in daytime. It was now dark, slightly drizzling. That had really slushed up our way. Again, the first-gear-hands-tight-feet-drag approach. We were exhausted. Each one tried a different approach to cheer themselves up. First was Dutta. He started giving motivational speeches to himself, loudly. We could overhear words like, "C'mon Fuckers, Go". Doley went off in an entirely different direction when he was leading. We all followed him almost to the edge of the mountain. We saved our humour for the destination.
Nilu's arm was aching as the wound started to act. I could not imagine how he was still managing to ride over this rough path. At one instant, PayengDa lost his balance and went to the ground. His foot was stuck under the bike. It took the rest of us some time to park our bikes and reach him. He managed to stick to his position this entire time. A govt. vehicle came from behind us and yelled as to why we were blocking the path and then noticed the fallen rider. That official must have travelled far north to gain that attitude.
PayengDa was not injured. His jacket had protected him. Such incidents make it worthwhile to buy all that stuff. We crawled along. This had turned out to be the most demanding stretch. We were already tired from the long spell of today. Some of the guys cheered on reaching the next civilization only to realize that Bhalukpong was still 5 kms away. When you are continuously under stress for an extended period of time, there comes an instant when you go numb to the things happening around you and just play along. The advantage of such a state is that you can keep going without actually feeling the exhaustion. The disadvantage is that you can hit the breaking point at any time without warning and that point can be lethal. We had reached that instant. We kept on riding on and on.
But we made it to Bhalukpong. It was ecstatic. We sounded our horns in a musical symphony till we reached the destination, Hotel Solu. But not before Nilu again led us astray onto a different path. Doley was so excited on reaching the hotel that he almost rode all the way on the ramp laid out for our motorcycles to take them down the stairs. He did regain his senses and stopped. We had the same rooms booked for us. After the ordeal, came the ecstasy. As we freshened up, dinner was served in the room. Huge handis, full of Rice and Pork. I got treated with a casserole full of chicken. But first came the congratulatory drink on the feat achieved. Although, the high of achievement was still there, some of us were not able to contain the exhaustion. I was one of them and went to sleep midway. All such dozers were woken up later to have dinner. The quantity was simply too much. We ate all that we could and went to a fullfilling sleep.
Bhalukpong to Guwahati
bpong river
payeng accident
Rangeela
my petrol
dusty ghy
11 pm
21 April 2011
This was our last day of riding. Which was why we were reluctant to start. It was Nilu's idea to hand over the leftover meat and rice to the cook to turn it into breakfast. The cook did an excellent job of frying the rice. This time all the utensils were cleaned. After breakfast, we decided to head down to the Bhalukpong river. Despite his limp, Nilu joined us. Time was passing too quickly. Our vacation was nearing the end. We enjoyed a good hour at the riverside. Doley wetted Dutta and Gyan, Dutta lost the sole of his shoe, stones were collected as mementos. But we did have to leave sometime.
Finally at 1 PM, the return journey started. We filled up at the closest petrol pump. All except me. I had judged that my tank had enough petrol to make it to Guwahati. This would be proved very wrong later. It was then at the petrol pump that a frog jumped out from nowhere on my tank. It was startling.
We left Arunachal hoping to visit the eastern part next time. The ride was still adventurous. PayengDa met with an accident with a women on a cycle. She was bruised but OK. We applied first aid to her wounds gave Rs 500 as repair for the cycle and carried on. Had such an incident happened up north, the damages would have been much more.
We were in for a surprise. Many stretches that were under construction during our previous journey, were now complete. So, the going was very quick. Since, we were making such good progress, we stopped at a roadside ahaata at Tezpur. Rangeela bar and restaurant. They offered HeMan 9000 beer. Such was our reluctance to progress that we repeated our order.
Again, we started. It was 4 PM now. A stop only 10 minutes later. Beer is bad for the bladder.
It was getting dark now. Again, we started. This time, only I stopped. My petrol had run out. So much for my level judgment. My recently changed, lockable petrol Tee does not strike reserve. That was the root cause. Dutta was the first to arrive. He enjoyed a good laugh seeing that finally, someone else was the butt of jokes. I took some petrol from his tank and then some from Nilu's. Gyan waited a petrol pump 7 kms ahead.
We set off again after I fuelled up. This time we faced traffic. Lots of it. We had been lucky earlier owing to the festive season. It grew denser and denser as we neared Guwahati. Trucks from the entire seven North-Eastern states converge here. Doley had now relaxed to an easy going pace. I had to keep my visor open because the oncoming headlights sparkled on the visor. That meant, I had to brave the pounds of dust. The worst case is at the Brahmaputra bridge.
All of us regrouped after crossing the bridge, near Rajiv Chowk. The endurance was over. We went in a relaxed pace till Gyan's home. Dinner was already prepared. His parents were asleep. That was good for us as we were covered in dust. Gyan took out glasses and whiskey. This was the final cheers of the ride. We had one more day left at Guwahati. Tommorow would be the bike loading day.
payeng accident
Rangeela
my petrol
dusty ghy
11 pm
21 April 2011
This was our last day of riding. Which was why we were reluctant to start. It was Nilu's idea to hand over the leftover meat and rice to the cook to turn it into breakfast. The cook did an excellent job of frying the rice. This time all the utensils were cleaned. After breakfast, we decided to head down to the Bhalukpong river. Despite his limp, Nilu joined us. Time was passing too quickly. Our vacation was nearing the end. We enjoyed a good hour at the riverside. Doley wetted Dutta and Gyan, Dutta lost the sole of his shoe, stones were collected as mementos. But we did have to leave sometime.
Finally at 1 PM, the return journey started. We filled up at the closest petrol pump. All except me. I had judged that my tank had enough petrol to make it to Guwahati. This would be proved very wrong later. It was then at the petrol pump that a frog jumped out from nowhere on my tank. It was startling.
We left Arunachal hoping to visit the eastern part next time. The ride was still adventurous. PayengDa met with an accident with a women on a cycle. She was bruised but OK. We applied first aid to her wounds gave Rs 500 as repair for the cycle and carried on. Had such an incident happened up north, the damages would have been much more.
We were in for a surprise. Many stretches that were under construction during our previous journey, were now complete. So, the going was very quick. Since, we were making such good progress, we stopped at a roadside ahaata at Tezpur. Rangeela bar and restaurant. They offered HeMan 9000 beer. Such was our reluctance to progress that we repeated our order.
Again, we started. It was 4 PM now. A stop only 10 minutes later. Beer is bad for the bladder.
It was getting dark now. Again, we started. This time, only I stopped. My petrol had run out. So much for my level judgment. My recently changed, lockable petrol Tee does not strike reserve. That was the root cause. Dutta was the first to arrive. He enjoyed a good laugh seeing that finally, someone else was the butt of jokes. I took some petrol from his tank and then some from Nilu's. Gyan waited a petrol pump 7 kms ahead.
We set off again after I fuelled up. This time we faced traffic. Lots of it. We had been lucky earlier owing to the festive season. It grew denser and denser as we neared Guwahati. Trucks from the entire seven North-Eastern states converge here. Doley had now relaxed to an easy going pace. I had to keep my visor open because the oncoming headlights sparkled on the visor. That meant, I had to brave the pounds of dust. The worst case is at the Brahmaputra bridge.
All of us regrouped after crossing the bridge, near Rajiv Chowk. The endurance was over. We went in a relaxed pace till Gyan's home. Dinner was already prepared. His parents were asleep. That was good for us as we were covered in dust. Gyan took out glasses and whiskey. This was the final cheers of the ride. We had one more day left at Guwahati. Tommorow would be the bike loading day.
Chillax in Guwahati
21 April 2011
After a week of riding, today was supposed to be a chillax day. It was termed this way in our planned itinerary as well. First agenda of the day was to get the bikes booked on the Rajdhani to New Delhi. Doley, Dutta and me went on our bikes with Nilu accompanying on the car. First, we went to the transit camp side of the station looking for the parcel office. One of the porters directed us to the other end of the station. We circumvented the station to reach the other side. On enquiring at the parcel office, they directed us back to the other side. They told us that since we would be accompanying our bikes and the ticket holders had the same name as the owner of the bike, we had to get them transported as luggage. That activity happened at the Cloak Room office. So, we returned and then started to get the bikes packed at Rs 300 each. But, the packer did a good job of it. We were not keen on repeating the incident of damaged bikes.
It has been our luck that our tasks never get accompalished easily. This time too, there was an issue. Doley and Dutta got their bikes packed and got the receipt made with no problem. My problem was that the Bullet was in the name of my father. So, we had to get the motorcycle back to the other side to be transported as parcel. With my brothers at the side, we managed to do that easily, and most importantly, without greasing hands. That would come later. Now, the only issue was to get the Bullet loaded onto the Rajdhani. We took the contact number of the person who would be in charge of that the next morning and left to return later in the evening.
It was 3 PM now. We roamed around Guwahati. The guys showed me their school and other frequently visited places. Dutta showed some colours we had not seen before. Nostalgia does bring out a different side of persons. Since our initial agenda was to chillax, we decided to do just that. We picked up beer, momos, burgers in front of Commerce College and then went to the Brahmaputra riverside. Another freedom beer that is enjoyed in so few places nowadays.
After finishing the beer, we went back to the Railway Station to speak to the man in charge. This time we had to grease hands so that all three motorcycles would be loaded onto the train early next morning.
With that accompalished, we all grouped back into Nilu's home. PayengDa came as well. He was to treat us with scotch as he had received the good news of his coming fatherhood next year. Congratulations Again PayengDa. Nilu invited his two colleagues as well who had helped arrange the bike for PayengDa. Prateek and Sushant. Gyan came with his wife and packed dinner for all of us.
It started out as a usual council meeting. Then things started getting political up as Prateek took over. Soon, everyone got heatedly involved in the discussion. It was a healthy one. The Scotch, Dewar's was finished in no time.
We slept somewhat early as we had to catch the train early next morning.
After a week of riding, today was supposed to be a chillax day. It was termed this way in our planned itinerary as well. First agenda of the day was to get the bikes booked on the Rajdhani to New Delhi. Doley, Dutta and me went on our bikes with Nilu accompanying on the car. First, we went to the transit camp side of the station looking for the parcel office. One of the porters directed us to the other end of the station. We circumvented the station to reach the other side. On enquiring at the parcel office, they directed us back to the other side. They told us that since we would be accompanying our bikes and the ticket holders had the same name as the owner of the bike, we had to get them transported as luggage. That activity happened at the Cloak Room office. So, we returned and then started to get the bikes packed at Rs 300 each. But, the packer did a good job of it. We were not keen on repeating the incident of damaged bikes.
It has been our luck that our tasks never get accompalished easily. This time too, there was an issue. Doley and Dutta got their bikes packed and got the receipt made with no problem. My problem was that the Bullet was in the name of my father. So, we had to get the motorcycle back to the other side to be transported as parcel. With my brothers at the side, we managed to do that easily, and most importantly, without greasing hands. That would come later. Now, the only issue was to get the Bullet loaded onto the Rajdhani. We took the contact number of the person who would be in charge of that the next morning and left to return later in the evening.
It was 3 PM now. We roamed around Guwahati. The guys showed me their school and other frequently visited places. Dutta showed some colours we had not seen before. Nostalgia does bring out a different side of persons. Since our initial agenda was to chillax, we decided to do just that. We picked up beer, momos, burgers in front of Commerce College and then went to the Brahmaputra riverside. Another freedom beer that is enjoyed in so few places nowadays.
After finishing the beer, we went back to the Railway Station to speak to the man in charge. This time we had to grease hands so that all three motorcycles would be loaded onto the train early next morning.
With that accompalished, we all grouped back into Nilu's home. PayengDa came as well. He was to treat us with scotch as he had received the good news of his coming fatherhood next year. Congratulations Again PayengDa. Nilu invited his two colleagues as well who had helped arrange the bike for PayengDa. Prateek and Sushant. Gyan came with his wife and packed dinner for all of us.
It started out as a usual council meeting. Then things started getting political up as Prateek took over. Soon, everyone got heatedly involved in the discussion. It was a healthy one. The Scotch, Dewar's was finished in no time.
We slept somewhat early as we had to catch the train early next morning.
Return to Delhi
23 April 2011
Nilu dropped us off early the next morning to the Railway Station. Then the usual train journey stuff followed, buying alcohol and snacks in black, pulling Dutta's leg again, etc. Doley spent most of his time sleeping. In the end, the motorcycles reached New Delhi safely. We picked them up through an agent who took about Rs 300 per bike and did the process of collection that we were unaware of. Railways are the best method of vehicle transportation.
It was a wild ride, literally. We will always miss Riding in Bhutan. But we are hoping to cover up for it the next time we visit North-East. There are far more places to discover.
Nilu dropped us off early the next morning to the Railway Station. Then the usual train journey stuff followed, buying alcohol and snacks in black, pulling Dutta's leg again, etc. Doley spent most of his time sleeping. In the end, the motorcycles reached New Delhi safely. We picked them up through an agent who took about Rs 300 per bike and did the process of collection that we were unaware of. Railways are the best method of vehicle transportation.
It was a wild ride, literally. We will always miss Riding in Bhutan. But we are hoping to cover up for it the next time we visit North-East. There are far more places to discover.
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