BvHHS: MC.INDIA/MORADARAD JOURNEY no.2

17 jan.2013 Moradarad

It's cold and slightly foggy morning

Moradarad with ½ -1 million. The population was not a city I had much desire to explore and the hotel was not charming. After having sorted my problems with my simcart I am again on the move.

The day before I had actually tried to turn away from the main road into the country, but it was not quite successful attempt, as it was some little dull medium roads I ended up on.

The city Amroha, 30 km. before Moradrad seemed charming with approx. 100,000 to 500,000 million. but not large enough to have a hotel. Here I might otherwise well have been a night extra.

On my first MC.Journey where I ran due north from Delhi, up in the mountains to the Ganges at Rishikesh and further north to Shilma and Manali I went through many small towns that still have guest houses and hotels, because of tourism. The same was true in most of Rajasthan, since this state survive through tourism. Cities without tourism should have a size of 1 million. to have a hotel, in order to serve business people. The worst thing about these mill. cities is that the old historic center mostly demolished and therefore there is in these cities not any nice guest houses and hotels.

I made an attempt to find a guesthouse after only 30 km drive in a small wonderful city Bilari. Several thought that was a guesthouse in town and sent me in slightly different directions, until I found out that the guesthouse, they referred me to was a kind of Goverment guesthouse. So I continued to mill. city Chandausi were not trace charming and found a guest house, the only one with an available room. It was really simple and poor. I have to extra sheet with me and my woolen thin blanket.

Since I didn't in Lonely Planet or other tourist books read about charming towns and guest houses that were worth visiting in addition to the two holy capitals Varanasi and Allahabad. Therefore I decided not to run in a northern arc east to Varanasi, as I had first thought, but instead to follow the Ganges river in a more direct line to the east towards Allahabad and then Varanasi. Maybe there were some places along the Ganges was more touristy.

Reach Chandausi after 75 km.

The young man who, besides being the manager of the guest house also works in the family's sewing shop in my room, would like to know what I did here, for here there was nothing to see. It was the others in the sewing shop that would know this.

I had chosen to stay here for 2 nights for to get my problem with my mail solved and relax the body. I woke up a few times because of the thunder and lightning and raining heavily. Next morning it was dry and at 8:00 I went on a photo-morning walk through the nearly empty streets.

Morning Hiking in Chandausi's quiet streets

In the afternoon there was again a violent shower of rain, while I sat on the only bit nicer plastic restaurant. The sky had been gray and heavy throughout the day as the rain was expected. I waited until the rain stopped, but now was the part of the road I found myself about 30 cm high water, about 50 meters to each side of the restaurant. The waiter could see that I had a problem. He made sure that there was a young boy who drove me through on his motorbike. In this way battle I had to wade through rainwater mixed with their own open entrance to drains.

Luckily I did not have to go through this mixture of rain and sewage water

19 jan. Shandausi – Farrukhabad 208 km.

9:30 am on the way to Farrukhabad. After 40 km. i have to pull off, to get extra pants on, as it is pretty cold. I parked motorbike inside the rebate, since the road is not as wide and trucks driving close. While I find myself behind a bush to get changed, I hear MC overthrow. I had not taken into account, the discount normally rock-hard were softened over the last 2 days of rain. I try to lift it, but impossible. I get top-bagage of and try again. Fortunately there was one there help me get my Enfield on an even keel. When I try to start the start button didn't work. I had again to use the kick starter.

I stop at a cattle market and walk around and enjoy the relaxed atmosphere. But all would have photographed their breeding bull and cow.

My first MC. workshop visits. The starter inoperative

I drove on the highway and came through a small town where I stopped to take some photos. I can not get it kick started. I got some young people to make an attempt. I know from last time that the Royal Enfield, it could be really hard for my unfamiliar calf muscles. It failed, so I had to push the heavy MC. to a workshop. Fortunately, it was not very far away. There had gathered many Indians. Groups of curious was greater when the young mechanics began to examine and discard all the electrical portion along. From my previous MC. trips I had gotten used to that I as a tourist and MC.driver sometimes made little crowd. But so many curious, I can only remember I've been out once before. It was in Georgia near the border into Azerbaijan, where Nullo my friend and I each have our MC. even created traffic chaos as police officers with whistles tried to straighten out the traffic again.

The last few days there have been more curious than I have been use to on my two previous India trips. The combination of few tourists and a population density which is 4 times as high as in Rajasthan, where one day I could almost drive 100 km. without encountering a village. Here's the show roads only 10-20 km. distance between villages and again through a lot of noise and fuss.

The young mechanic tried many different systems, so I via a push button can start the engine electrical instead of kick start. This was the system devised by pressing the button with the red ring. It funcion only a day.

This journey has really got all my senses into overdrive

It's a bit of an ordeal this time, I can foresee a little hard physically and mentally MC.India Journey this time. The last few days have my mind had ups and downs in this state of 200 million. In fact, I thought before this MC. journey that I had already experienced the worst in terms of congestion, noise and the gray unaesthetic overbearing reality. Mern no, here I think that traffic is twice so close and loud.

This journey has really been all my senses into overdrive. The constant noise, people there cross the road, cyclists will foreward and sacred cows there are standing still and trolleys with 6 m long iron rods driven by sinewy strong-willed human bodies. All will forward - and the only way is to throw themselves aimlessly into this chaos and hope for the best. And that is exactly what the majority of Indians do. They do not wait for a time, perhaps a little less risky before they cross the road, many do not look to the side or rear. They drive just up and take the chance, it is up to Brahman if all goes well - and it's up to us driver if we can manage to slow down.

Here in Allahabad with 1 million. inb. I passed a few redlight along with other road users and every time we have driven through a red light. In the large cross where there is a roundabout, there is better chance to get through the intersection. So if you want more than a little busier street, you have to be daring enough to go forward in spite of congestion else can one be allowed to wait long. If you would rather, you are forced to react as the majority, to throw yourself into it or you will not pass. Those behind presses on with loud and urgent density.

This is the first time I have had physical contact with so many motorbike and cars chopper back of my Enfield, since all pushing very close by. Fortunately, Enfield protected by the two metalboxe.

In addition to this constant flow of people and ugly inclined or sounds it also requires your full attention to the tremendous visual bombardment of unsightly derelict buildings bumpy roads, heavy traffic of both vehicles, people and animals. Worn stalls and advertisements that scream to the gods and garbage everywhere. Aesthetics is not much of this visual decay. Women's colorful sari, otherwise light up this gray-brown mass, has only a few places chance to compete, with the main impression you get of visual gray and dusty poverty.

In Rajastan where many of their old town has been preserved, one senses not the same inconsolable decay. Here they try with simple means to preserve and respect their special ornamentret housing, which is unique Indian style. Buildings that are passed down through generations.

The new buildings rapid decay due to poor materials and shoddy workmanship. Poor trained craftsman at all levels. Their political infrastructure is probably just as bad and chaotic as traffic.

I now understand better why Indians on the road, as in the narrow streets and alleys choose to go on the same side and direction as the traffic. In addition to that they believe that it is up to Brahman there happens to them something, then it is very tiring and stressful always having to take mental and physical position on the motorbike, car or bike listings coming directly toward you. You spend a lot of energy trying to control the situation, since you visually and physically get involved. Your body is constantly trying instinctively to avoid close contact. The ride can see that you can see him, so he tries to get you physically to move you. If you instead go in the same side and direction as traffic run, it is the running constantly should try to avoid you. You don't see and feel all of the many times when the running end comes dangerously close. Even I have on the smaller roads and alleys chosen now to go on the same side and direction as traffic, the second is incredibly stressful. However, I would not recommend doing it on the smaller roads in the city at night when it's pitch black, as many motorbike and cars driving without lights and cyclists. Just as in traffic, have Indians find it difficult to see the skins barlige reality directly in the eyes. It is up to Brahman

The only sense I have of good and evil being cheated, in this sense Eldorado's sense of smell. Although I stand near the open drainage systems or a smaller pilot seat. I lost my sense of smell in 1998, when I was knocked off my bike by a car door and hit my head so violently that I got a concussion, a minor stroke and had destroyed my sense of smell. It also happens for some boxers who get too strong blow to the head.

The last part of the way to Farrukhabad I saw beautiful landscapes and villages which were exacerbated by sun there came a few hours. So far, the trip has not been as poetic as I had hoped, but sensual very demanding.

20 jan. Farrukhabad- Fatehpur 245 km.

After the ride yesterday, I got a cold, so I decided to ride a little later this morning. Wait for the air had been a little warmer.

The makeshift start button worked not more. I had to kick start. In addition to myself, I got a few others to try. We had to give up and they pushed me started. It worked without any problems, so I was again on the road.

Because of my cold I did not have much energy to take photograph or choose alternative routes. After 7 hours. driving, I reached Fatehpur.

I spent the night in a newly built hotel. I was one of the first guests. Therefore, they were willing to give me a discounted price, otherwise I did not need luxury at this time. But it was lovely to have a hot bath. They had decorated the room simply and tastefully. But the craft in the bathroom, was not of a high standard.

Affald langs vejsiden lige uden for byen

21 jan. Fatehpur – Allahabad 194 km.

Before I drove on I spent a little time to tighten all the bolts on the MC. for, as I have now run over 600 km. And gave it a little oil.

Now also the spring to kick starter skipped. It is the one that gets the kick starter back in place. I and the others have probably trampled too hard to get it started. Now I constantly had to bend me or with my feet get it back in place. Hard work, but I got it started.

It's probably the coldest day I have driven. Perhaps it is because my cold has been a little worse. The sky is gray and the mist is still heavily over the landscape. After 65 km. I stop and got a nice warm Thai. After another 20 km. I try again to make a turn off the main road to Allahabad.

I enjoyed the sound of the engine and the small bumps in the road

What a total transformation happened in my mind and my whole body when I ran into this small paved road. The beauty overwhelmed me, the experience of Enfield became more intense, suddenly I experienced again the wonderful feeling of freedom. The pace at Enfield I had put down. I enjoyed the sound of the engine and the small bumps in the road that got into my body through MC.

I got through a few poetic villages and decided to stop in the next village, even though there was a small booth with Thai. I stopped and immediately there was some over by my motorbike. I did make them clear that I just wanted to take some pictures of their village. After taking some pictures of these simple aesthetically beautiful simple huts, there was a young guy in English talked to me. He would like to show me around. He had grown up here and had studied Sanskrit in New Delhi. Outside of his family he served water and a little sweet cakes his mother had made. A whole bunch of kids standing around me and the plastic chair I had been offered. I had a brief chat with the young man and agreed that I would send the photos I took of the village for him.

The total peace in this small village healed my mind. Peaceful I drove on towards Allahabad. Without difficulty I reached after a detour around. 60 km. up to Allahabad. First there I discovered that the kick starter now no longer rested on the exhaust pipe but hung straight down to the ground and therefore could be dangerous if the support towards the ground in a little sharp h.sving.

En ro og harmoni hviler over landsbyen

Jeg tager foto af en skole hvor de har lektion uden for.

Find the Hotel Royal through a traffic hell

According to the Lonely Planet Guide,- Hotel Prayag was an OK hotel. It was an ugly half old concrete building of 6 floors with a lift that constantly drove past the floor you were standing on. The few rooms I saw was very similar to simple prison cells, without any soul. Although they only cost 16 $ per day. Fot that money you can still find more charming guest houses.

I should still be aware of the kick starter. Hotel Royal, according to Lonely Planet, had been a former royal building, but had now been converted into a hotel. It has large rooms with 6 m ceiling. It is really worn, dirty and poorly kept. I asked for a room upstairs where the rooms only have 5 meters to the ceiling. Beds have mattresses that are probably better in the local jail. You do not feel that the floor is washed. In the bathroom there was a dead bird, it was probably drowned. I asked the staff to get it removed. One of the employees show up. When he came out he had nothing in his hands. I think he just has thrown it over the balcony edge outside the toilet, down to the old cars they repair beneath the balcony.

My second MC.workshop visit. Kickstart control becomes secondary

After having established myself in my new room, I searched for an authorized Royal Enfield workshop. I was referred to one of these street shops who just have a closet with a giant lock, where they have all the necessary tool. He had not a new alternator to replace it, the young a few days ago had separated. He had a new spring for the kick starter. At the same time, they had to put a new bulb, so I can once again see if the clutch is in neutral position.

Well worn, I got something to eat.