After the blissful comforts Nadine and I shared in Delhi, I think it came as something as a shock to my new travelling companion to be checking into hotels that lacked in even the basics such as hot water and a chocolate on the pillow. The brown that adorned these pillows was far from a benefit… nevertheless, Nadine put up with it in admirable fashion. The Taj Mahal was just as they say it is, and we pressed on heading southeast towards the coast, where we were seeking out a sunsoaked beach to relax together. So with this in mind we put a lot of miles in most days, breezing through Jaipur, Pushkar, Udaipur and onwards to Mumbai.
Hanging out in Mumbai for a few days with my old mate Minky, we headed off to Pune to see another friend who’s contracting there for Tata.
Riding the Mumbai-Pune expressway was such a breath of fresh air, after so many kilometers of unpredictable tarmac, strewn with equally unpredictable pedestrians, livestock and vehicles. Yes, hands up, we had been warned that 2 wheelers were not allowed on this particular stretch, but we left late from Mumbai, and wanted to reach Pune before dark. Breaching the entrance to the highway, we barely got one kilometer into the expressway, before the first policeman tried to flag us down. Cheekily, we responded with a cheery wave, and I wound on the throttle. After another couple such encounters, as fugitives from the law we approached the first toll-plaza with trepidation. Somehow we slipped through barely hindered. Inevitably though, some 70kms in we were pulled over by a police jeep. I played the dumb foreigner card, and with the ‘on the spot fine’ negotiated, we tailed the police onwards and ultimately through the VIP gate at the final toll-plaza. Pulling over to the shoulder still behind the cops, the policeman emerged from the jeep, and once again approached us. Bugger… what now? I was completely dumbstruck as he thrust my 100 rupee fine back into my hand and proclaimed “Welcome to India!” A true gent if ever there was one.
After Pune we took in a couple of substandard resorts on the coast before finally reaching Goa. It was raining. It continued to do so every day for a week until Nadine finally got on the plane to leave. No sooner than she had left the tarmac of Goa’s Dabolim airport the sun came out. Oh well I hope the sun was shining back in Germany for her at least.
The sunny spell was short lived and soon the monsoon swelled back to full strength, so I abandoned my plans to head down the coast to Kerala, and decided to head inland to Hampi, where incredible rock formations surrounded ancient temples. Nice for a day, but templed out, and tired from 2 sleepless nights on a bed of concrete, I headed off to Bangalore at 6am. Thanks of course must got to the guest-house’s maid who made sure I was awake early by washing the dishes outside my room att 5am.
So now here I am back in Bangalore, staying with an old friend. Hopefully a week in town will see some fun, and some business opportunities unfold…

Well here I am relaxing in the rain in Goa. It’s not all bad, as the sun does peep out every so often, but not often enough for Nadine’s and my liking. Anyway, a lot of tarmac has passed under Maggie’s wheels since the last posting, so I’ll have to cast my memory waaaaaaaaay back almost a month and try to recount the unrecountable.

So, where I left off the story last, I was still with Joe. Never underestimate a travelling companion who doesn’t wear make up, doesn’t see high-heels as “essential kit", and had wheels of his own! (I’m only joking Nadine) So with the thoughts of getting as far away from “European-style” conveniences, these foolhardy explorers having conquered the world’s highest motorable road, decided to head well off the beaten trail and go to lake Tso Moriri, which lies at 4500m or so, near to the Tibetan border. The ride there was pretty rough in places, though hardly the roughest terrain on the trip so far, and on arrival, signboards announced that camping anywhere other than the designated campsites was highly illegal. With this in mind, we headed off round the corner to the edge of the lake, out of sight of these nay-sayers. We found a great spot, and fortunately slept undisturbed. Riding out the next day, we calculated we’d absolutely definitely have almost enough fuel to reach the settlement of Pang where we were informed we could probably buy overpriced fuel from the locals. Rolling down the hill on vapours into Pang, and searching for fuel proved fruitless, and in the end the only option was to load the bikes onto a truck to get to the next fuel station, some 170kms away towards Manali! Trying to hold the bikes upright in the back of this dust filled truck, seemingly built before the days of what we call “suspension” was a nightmare. We lasted about 6kms before having to pull over and try to find another solution. Laying the bikes down on their sides lasted about another 3kms before we realised the pannier racks were being bent wildly out of shape. So we resolved to lash the bikes to the sides, and hope for the best. It kind of worked this time, and 60kms later we found a police checkpost selling illicit fuel, and I roused Joe from his dusty snooze (I was riding up in the cab, which on the face of it sounds cushy, but having a window seat as the driver swung the front of the truck out over a series of 22 hairpin turns was in short, terrifying). Covered in dust we offloaded the bikes, filled up, and headed to a campsite. What a day that was!
We drove into Manali in thick fog, and Joe and I chilled for our last few days together, and I finally got as big split in one of my panniers welded up. After Joe and I parted company, it was strange to be back on my own again, though not completely unwelcome. In any case, I knew it would only be for a week, until Nadine arrived. I took a long winding route back to Delhi, through greener than green hills where marijuana grew in massive bushes at the roadside, and was rolled into massive reefers in the cafes. 10 years inside if you fancy getting caught! After a few weeks break from the monsoon whilst up in the mountains, approaching Chandigarh the heavens opened on Maggie and I once again, creating mud and rocks to be strewn across the road, which unfortunately led to the first puncture of the trip. About 17000kms without incident is pretty good I think, and then only a puncture (due to my badly worn front tyre no doubt)! Hopefully we can go another 17000 before the next malfunction!

Getting back into Delhi, I was decidedly excited about the prospect of staying for the next 2 nights in a 5* hotel, and even more so about having some wonderful, attractive female company flying in to keep me company there! Without going into too much detail, Nadine and I spend a fantastic couple of days in the hotel, and when we did finally venture out 2 days later, we were on the road to Agra, the home of the Taj Mahal!

I’ll leave it there for now, but I’ll fill you in the last few weeks activities soon!

I know a post here is WELL overdue now, but just in case anyone heard about bombs going off in Ahmadabad, in Gujarat… thought you’d like to know I’m still live. We’re just down the road in Baroda, but I’m sure everything’s fine. Anyway, lots to fill you in on, but Nadine and I are making a mad dash to the coast to try to escape the heat!

We’ve been up in Leh for a few days now, relaxing at 3500m. The altitude makes me pretty tired, so you don’t get very far away from one eating/drinking establishment before you have to collapse into another! The ride up to Khardung La (the highest motorable pass in the world at 5359m) was pretty spectacular, but even climbing on and off the bike to take a few photos left me breathless! Generally the roads around here are single track, and alternate between beautiful smooth tarmac, and gravel/rocks/sand. The truck drivers are still being a complete pain, and try to run you off the road as they dominate the road (especially on hairpin turns), but that’s indian driving for you! Aside from that the riding is good, and the scenery amazing.

In a way all this doing nothing is somehow getting to be a bit tedious, and I’m kind of questioning why I’m doing this trip at all! I’m not sure I’ve done anything to deserve this extended break, and wonder if i’m any better than the hippies and layabouts that seem to colonise these parts of the world! I’m sure once I get going again I’ll be back in the journey…

I’m in deperate need of a new front tyre now, having done over 10000 miles on this one from UK. Thankfully Nadine is being my saviour and bringing out new tyres, chain and sprockets, and a few other bits for the bike. I can’t wait for her to get here on 17th July, just in time for my birthday the following day. We’ll then ride down the west coast of India, eventually through Goa, and Kerala and back to see friends in Bangalore (which has since been named Bengaluru apparently). Also when there, I’m really hoping to get a meeting with the MD of TVS Motor Company, to pitch my plans for my motorcycle company and a tie up with them of some description. TVS is a great company, and I really hope they’re interested to work with me…

Joe and I put in a big mileage day yesterday to get up to Srinigar up in Kashmir yesterday. We were held up for an hour and a half while we repaired Joe’s rear tyre. He took a 3 inch bolt stright through his tyre. Unfortunately the new tube we installed was damaged when we put the tyre back on (we suspect by the hamfisted loacls that insisted on “helping"), so it had to be removed again, so it took ages, and we were glad to finally get back on the road.
The ride was stunning on a road clinging to the mountain side, but again the Indian bus and truck drivers caused us both numerous heartattacks as they overtook on blind bends etc.
I was a little concerned about reports of disruption in the streets of Srinigar, but by the time we got here it had cooled off, but there’s military everywhere and a strike in force, which means all the shops including the petrol stations are closed. Hoping tomorrow when we want to head up into the mountians and to Leh the strike will be over, and we can get petrol…