..riding on..

First and foremost I would like to clarify why I had not uploaded any pictures from Iran and the UAE. I have no idea how it happened but as I was saving them from the memory card onto the ipod I lost them all....d'oh.. These also included the Van region of eastern Turkey (one of my highlights, unfortunately). But they are safe with me in my memory at least.
Oh and by the way, the orange bandanna (viz. previous post) was compulsory!

In the end I stayed in and around Jaisalmer for approximately 3 weeks.  I almost began to feel at home there. The town has a special force and seems to attract people who now regularly return or have found livelihoods there. I began to feel this magneticism myself as I formed friendships with these guys. I knew it was time to go but somehow could not bring myself to leave. The rest from the constant moving done me good though. Seeing the same faces every morning and evening was  ...well...nice..  I could easily have spent a few more weeks there in their company, but the place just had no more to offer me and I started getting lazy.

It felt good to be riding on again. As soon as I sat on the bike and saw the last familiar spots I began to feel that sense of excitement about the new adventures ahead like I did on that May morning when I was saying farewell to London. This feeling is still with me now.

I rode through and stayed in a number of cities where I have seen many interesting things but I simply cannot be bothered to write about them right now, so I'll skip through Jodhpur, Jaipur and Udaipur. -Although each of these cities had something special,  I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

The Hindu pilgrimage town Pushkar is however perhaps worth a bit more of a description. (you may have notciced that it is the peaceful places that make the greater impression on me). I only spent one evening, night and morning there due to a meet-up in Jaipur the following day, but even in that short time there was something eminently mystical about this compact, busy, yet placid town. With many others I sat by the lake for some time, just watching the religious rituals around and the hills and temples on the other side of the lake reflecting in the water.

Bundi, the town where Rudyard Kipling once lived and wrote The Jungle Book was another one of those quiet places I would happily return to. Located in southern Rajasthan it is far greener than the rest of this amazing state I now feel I got to know a little. The town itself with it's narrow, fairly quiet lanes and blue buildings is rather captivating. and the picturesque, half ruined palace just above the guesthouse took most of the day to explore at leisure.  Not more than 35km outside town there is a waterfall, the visit to which will for me remain a memory for ever. With no one except for a few macaques and parakeets around, the place is very idyllic.

The further south east I rode, the greener the countryside got. By Madhya Pradesh the land was anything but dry. Instead, densely vegetated or flooded areas dominated the landscape with plenty of waders, water buffalo and smiling faces to be seen along the way. With this new interest for my eyes and the roads, for once, in pristine condition I reached Orchha before I took notice of my tiredness. This tranquil and hassle-free village has plenty of fantastic architecture. The main attraction are the two 17th century palaces, and  the temples which date back to the 16th century. From all of these there are breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside. Lying by the fairly fast flowing Betwa river, Orchha  is in the ideal location for swimming. So I made the most of that too.

Next stop was Khajuraho where I spent a day walking around the temples decorated with the famous Kama Sutra sculptures.

Only about 30km east of Khajuraho is the Panna National Park. As soon as I arrived into its vicinity I knew I would stay the night. Not feeling in the mood to ride further, look for a hotel and the usual negotiating that comes with it I found a remote spot not far from the Ken river to pitch my tent. My presence was quickly noticed by the local children who ever since it became apparent that I am going to stay the night kept checking up on me every hour or so. I did not mind them off course, but I must say I was not really in the mood for them first thing next morning... As I got up and disappeared into the bushes they had a little giggle about this strange man needing to take a shit...but as I returned they were waiting for me with their grandfather and a most welcome cup of cay and biscuits. And thus I lived for the past 5 days. Moving more or less daily by only about a km or two, washing myself  and my clothes in the river, fishing and generally falling in love with the place and lifestyle.

Speaking to the wardens of the Panna Tiger Reserve, there are apparently 11 tigers left. But various sources on the internet have contradicting data. It seems to me there may even be less than that. poaching and poor management are the main cause. I off course offered my help, but was laughed off...oh well.. They also said there are crocodiles in the river. I spent one of the days trying to find some and headed downstream where I was told they might be. Alas I found none.

Back in civilisation now. Slowly heading toward Bombay and the warmer climes.

Punjab and Rajasthan

After Himachal Pradesh I had a few fairly thought-free days on easy and straight roads. They eventually lost their appeal or turned difficult to ride as their quality got  poor for rather prolonged sections, but it was nice to begin with.

From Chandigarh I rode into Amritsar, home to Sikh holiest shrine, the Golden Temple. It really is as beautiful as people say. Walking around the Temple complex it was hard to believe that the existence of such a peaceful place amidst all the noise and traffic just outside the walls is even possible. There was a wonderfully friendly and welcoming feel, free food for everyone, and nowhere else was I ever spoken to so nicely by men in uniform.

Worth the mention is the Karni Mata Temple in Deshnok. This is where people worship hundreds of holy rats, descended from the Goddess Karni. She was said to live in the 14th century and to have performed many miracles. When her son drowned she asked the god of death to bring him back to life. When her wish was refused, Karni restored the life of her son and announced that her family members would die no longer but would incarnate in the form of rats. Now there are around 600 families in Deshnok who claim descent from Karni Mata Rats. It is hardly surprising that the temple was rather dirty and full of unhealthy looking, overweight rodents, as pilgrims constantly bring food for them.

I have been in Jaisalmer now for over a week. In comparison to other cities in Rajasthan this place is quiet. People are used to seeing tourists, so it is actually possible to walk down the narrow sandstone-paved streets without being hassled by absolutely everyone or having to move away from speeding motorbikes or auto rickshaws every second. The Jaisalmer Fort, is still occupied by residents which interests my tourist mind as a fantastic mixture of a museum and actual life at the same time. Looking out from the fort into the landscape that people here call the desert at sunset is a magical moment.

I have got to know a few locals here with whom I get on very well. It is an entirely different experience from the continuous moving-on. Which is pretty much what I have done since coming to India.Staying in one place and getting to know people a little better I have began to redefine the concept of religion and it's value to people's lives. It is also very evident that the caste system, although abolished and illegal is still very much present. This manifests itself in gestures, treatment and dealings with one another.

I like India, but meeting other travelers and swapping stories I realised that most miss the uninteresting parts that I have to go through. They often simply take a night bus from one tourist area to another, whilst I have to travel and sometimes sleep in real 5h1tholes with no culture and no manners where people seem to live by the motto "each for themselves". Of course this experience is  applicable to most countries I've been in, including Europe. But India is a big place. Sometimes it is necessary to travel long distances through ugly towns on broken or dusty roads before arriving somewhere interesting and pleasant. On the other hand, there are times (usually unexpected) when I am there and then in the moment with the freedom to choose to stop, stay and enjoy. and then move on again at my leisure.

Now and then I hear the strangest things being said to me which leaves me bewildered for some time. For instance, once a stranger informed me of a grey hair in my beard and offered to pull it out for me... On another occasion I was told by a group of young men that I look cool or that my hair is nice. Which is worrying because this  is coming from people who also think that Justin Beaber is cool (!) as they proudly show me his music video on their phone...

Now I am off to the desert for a few days. I'll be camping by a salt lake around 30kms from Jaisalmer. But will probably return to town again. It is nice here.

Haryana and Himachal Pradesh

Getting out of Delhi was a bit of a challenge. I left early in the morning but due to the serious lack of good maps available and my poor knowledge of the city I somehow kept going in circles. In the end I gave up on going the right way and decided to follow signs to any place outside Delhi that I had on my map. This proved to be a working method and in a few hours I was well and truly out of the chaos of the city.
My first propper stop was Kurukshetra where according to Hindu teachings the universe was created. This was also where Krishna delivered his Bhagavat Gita. My room had a balcony with a view of India's largest water tank , the Bhramasarovar which according to Hindu texts was created by Lord Brahma. Kurukshetra is a place of great historical and religious importance and hence attracts many pilgrims and spiritual people who seemed to be just as interested in me as I was in them.

The following day I took the winding road to Shimla (2205m), trying to avoid cows, dogs and macaques along the way. (successfully). Shimla is nice. In many areas it has a strange European feel due to some English era buildings and the Christ Church clearly visible from most places. But wondering through the busy market and the Jakhu temple, dedicated to the monkey god Hanuman I was easily reminded of where I really am.

The road got worse but steadily more adventurous and exciting with the passing villages and views of the Himalayan foothills, at this point still thickly covered by predominantly coniferous forests.
Unfortunately at around 3000m above sea level the bike started loosing power. The spark plugs were covered in carbon. I knew that the air filter is clean as I cleaned it just before setting off to Himachal Pradesh. The problem was that since Greece I have not been able to find the correct grade oil. I had this problem in Turkey whilst riding up Mount Nemrut.
Miles away from anywhere with a considerable community I resolved to change the spark plugs which improved the situation a little and with some difficulty got up to Nako Lake (3662m) near the border with Tibet. But I knew that I would only have to go down from there on. The bike just did not want to go any higher.
The beautiful village of Nako persuaded me to stay for 3 days. First one of these I spent acclimatising to the altitude, trying out some Tibetan dishes and messing around with the bike. Seeing that the carburetor was clean too, it had to be the oil.
Feeling pretty good and overwhelmed by the beauty around me I spent the next two days on hikes. There are a few Budhist monasteries in the area, some of them quite old, where on my arrival the monks welcomed me with fresh apples that are harvested in the valleys bellow.
I was going to stay there and become a monk, but as they had no internet I realised it would be ages before I could add another fascinating post... so I changed my mind..

Now I am in Chandigarh, the capital of Punjab and Haryana. The bike is happy again, and so am I. A motorcycle mechanic here agrees that it was probably the oil...oh well- low altitude it is then...until I get the right oil at least.