Dead Bodies in the River! ....East to Varanasi

Agra to Etawah

I left Agra pretty late in the day and made a start towards the next place I wanted to see, Varanasi.  The roads east from Agra seemed a little more relaxed than those in-between Delhi and Agra and had much longer stretches of countryside between the towns. The roads were still very flat and with India being in winter, the temperature about 28 degrees Celsius.  Just after nightfall the road came to an end as the bridge over the rail track had not finished being built, so for now everyone was just stepping over the tracks.  After crossing the tracks there were perhaps 200 people congregated around what looked like a float for a carnival with elaborate paint and a flashing lights and a single thrown like chair placed on top about 3 meters high.  Sure enough I found myself sitting in this chair to the delight of the whole town.  I felt like something from a gladiator film on my way to an honor killing.

A good nights sleep hidden from the roadside.....and a man with a very enviable tash

Pontoon bridge over the mighty Ganges - i chucked the kid in the river for messing with my brakes

Varanasi

roadside wash

making the most of a burst main

riding into the night

Riding in the night is both good and bad. Temperatures are more bearable and people don’t notice you as easily, so you get hassled a lot less. However, lorry drivers get drunk for long night rides and finding somewhere to sleep is more problematic as finding a place to pitch a tent at night isn’t easy!  (Plus hotels are limited away from main cities in India).  I eventually found a large building which I thought could be a hotel (or even if it wasn’t a place I could ask to stay). I went into inquire and found myself sitting a room with 6 men and the door closed behind me, one way clearly the boss with cigarettes being  placed in his mouth and lit for him. There were also mice which kept running across the floor. The situation was made slightly more awkward by the fact my feet stunk too..You know there bad when you can strongly smell them yourself!

It turned out the building was an empty guest house of sorts/very small hospital. After an hour or so chatting up stairs my plea to camp on the grass outside was rejected and I was told to sleep in a big orphanage style room with the patients downstairs.... later upgraded to an offer to sleep in his personal room. Most kind. The guys all left on motorbikes and I went downstairs to see what was going  on, where I was told to meet the doctors. What followed was probably the most bizarre thing that has happened to me in all of my bicycles travels...

I went downstairs to meet the surgeon. Really pleasant chap a few years older than me and we chatted  about healthcare  in India. A few minutes later the “senior” doctor arrived, referred to as his “big brother” or the “master” or “chief” doctor who apparently owned a hospital over the road. He was completely hammered, foaming at the mouth and slurring every single word.  He kept pointing his finger at my chest and striking it across my body like a knife whilst telling me he could perform any operation I required! He then insisted I came into the operating room (a small dingy room behind the office in which we were standing) and watch the operation that was about to take place.  I had to change my green flip flops for a pair of white ones and walked straight in.

The lady was just being anesthetized as i walked in and was made to stand with the best view in the house, directly over her as he surgeon started slicing the lady open! Although the equipment used wasn't the cleanest the surgeon operated with amazing skill and had her gallbladder out in no time. The chief master surgeon walked around in his socks occasionally participating in the surgery and giving me a running drunk commendatory of what was going on and simultaneously showing funny videos on his phone.  The patient started to come around a bit early so the chief slapped her in the head which seemed to do the trick.

Etawah to Varanasi

After a very poor nights sleep, partly due to nightmares of Hannibal removing my organs and probably part due to the mice running around beneath me i woke up feeling pretty rough and with the shits. Treatment at the hospital wasn't an option so i decided to hit the road asap. A few miles later I saw a concrete monument just off the highway, quickly diverted and pulled off the road and crashed out cold behind it. 

Two hours later i woke up and feeling pretty awful started pedalling again. Cycling with the shits is pretty grim!  The heat and exercise is pretty exhausting already and the fact you cant hold any food down makes you feel pretty faint!...and having a people ride the motorbikes directly alongside you for hours at a time looking intently at you like your an alien definitely test your patience...but i try my best to be nice and remember that to them i do perhaps look like an alien.  One highlight was going past about 4 tractors with music blaring and  pulling 100s of people squashed in like sardines. 

All had there  faces painted purple and pink and they sung and danced and shouted "Happy Hindy!". They also pelted me in purple dye. I was now indistinguishable from an Indian man.

I couldn't find any guesthouses whatsover (India seems to have very few hotels outside main attractions/cities) but had a touch when I came across the creme de la creme “welcome break” of India service station with an impeccable garden out the back (rare!) . About 20 blokes helped me erect my tent and i fell asleep for about 15 hours!) Probably the most luxury and easy camping I’ll ever find again in India!

The next morning i headed eastwards (just south of Kanpur) and made good progress.  There were a few nice bridge crossings over small rivers flowing from the Ganges. One i stopped to take a photo and was quickly surrounded by people wanting selfish and people parking their cars and motorbikes directly in front of me on the bridge.  I was beginning to master the art of causing huge traffic jams on Indian roads.  One guy started acting as a road traffic warden to stop vehicles coming over the bridge just so I could take some pictures.

My 2^nd nights camping were not quite good as the first. I pulled over for some food of the main road and asked if i could camp by the side of the restaurant.  I pitched the tent just before nightfall and after food and a chat said i would go to bed. He followed me to my tent, which i zipped up and said goodnight. A few minutes later i opened the front of the tent and found the man still there starring at me, this was a little unnerving but i put it down to cultural differences.  The choice of camping spot was a poor one. About 20 minutes later they started up a generator which was about 2 meters from my tent, this went on throughout the night!.

The following day was for the most part a nice ride.  Slightly more undulating (too much flat is not a good thing for long distance cycling! – it becomes mundane and kills your nuts!) and greener and more tree lined. I at one point found myself cycling with about 20 school kids occupying half the street (waiting for the comments from my friends at the fire station following this sentence).  I decided to push on into the night to give myself an easy last day cycling into Varanasi. I stopped for dinner just after nightfall and the guy who lived next to the eating place offered me a bed in his house. I noticed there was only one bed in the house and decide to reject his kind offer.

 Just outside of the town i saw a small field which was partly hidden by a pile of straw which i saw as a good hidden little camping spot.  However, on leaving the town i had a convoy of people following me on bicycles and motorbikes (the smaller and more remote then town the greater the harassment!) I need of a good night’s sleep I cycled right passed the camp spot, slammed by breaks on ad turned my lights off and cycled back to the spot, darting off the road and into the field without anyone seeing me.  I was able to pitch that tent in complete darkness – its a single pole one man tent so pretty easy to pitch. Apart from getting a few dead arms as i forgot to bring my Carry Matt it was a pretty good night’s sleep!

The following day was an easy 65 miler into Varanasi.  My map showed a small road heading towards the Ganges with a single black line crossing it. This ended up being the most awesome pontoon wobbly bridge, see pics! The road turned into sand as I reached the far side and after 15 miles or so I rejoined the Grand Trunk Highway Road into the city.  On arrival in Varanasi i encountered the worst traffic i've experienced in my life. After being knocked off my bike into the central reservation i came to a road junction with traffic so intense you could not even walk through never made cycle. The Junction was managed by the "Traffic Brigade" who would smash on the back with a big stick anyone who disobeyed there orders!