Monday, March 26, 2007

Chapter 42: The Motorcycle Diaries


You cannot exist in India with western views on safety. It isn't possible. In the west we work on the basis that an accident is going to happen, but over here the assumption is that it isn't, so why take any precautions? And if, by some weird tear in the fabric of the universe, an accident does happen, if it ain't completely ruined, its as good as new:


I saw this guy wake up and drive off with my own 2 eyes. MY EYES.

I think it's basically that there are more pressing things to worry about and, quite frankly, life isn't considered to be so precious here. There also isn't quite the culture of blaming, suing, etc.
Incidentally, India also bypasses all safety laws when it comes to scientific research. And it enables them to be world leaders in, for example, cloning:


laboratory conditions indeed...

So, having become so nearly Indian in my outlook on the world(!), it was only natural that I abandon all "reasonable caution," get myself a dangerous vehicle (ideally with some nationalistic symbolism thrown in), and go crazy...

Actually, before I begin, there are some factors I'd like to mention that might reprieve me from condemnation as a moron by those less able to read between the irony or trust in my judgment... In India, the vehicles are less powerful, the roads terrible, the traffic chaotic (officially, they drive on the left, although that shouldn't be taken for granted, even on partitioned highways, and especially not at roundabouts... why go all the way round if its quicker to go anti-clockwise?)! Wait, how's this helping? Oh yes, the traffic is much slower. I learned to ride on empty roads, taking advice from people with lots of experience, I have about 1 month's experience of scooters in India, I'm well used to cycling in busy cities, and have been driving long enough (9 years!) to have some road sense. It may sound obvious, but riding a motorbike is just a cross between riding a bike and driving a car. Once you're used to the clutch being in your hand, and changing gears with your foot, its really straightforward. I feel safer on motorbikes than scooters, as its much easier to connect with the bike - ie you use your whole body, not just your wrists and elbows - and having more power means you can get out of trouble faster.
Right, without further ado, here's trousers:


YYYEEEAAAHHH!!! On the small chance that you haven't already done so, might I suggest that, wherever you are, you stand up, whoop, cheer, and if you're in the mood for chanting, how about "U-S-A" or "go tricky?"

Um.Like.Whatever. I didn't really intend to take the yellow bike with the union jack seat, but as I got on to try it out, my (very thin cotton) trousers ripped, so I was left without many options! Unfortunately, trousers only lasted a couple of days as his speedo & milometer didn't work, the latter of which is quite important, so I swapped him for a more cruisy, less sporty bike.

Anyway, my reason for hiring a motorbike was that there's no other way to see Kutch - India's westernmost region, in the north of Gujarat. Kutch had come highly recommended from several people I'd met on the way, and seemed like a great place for my last proper stop. It's ancient, has a great capital city (Bhuj), is packed with traditional villages, and has some incredible landscapes...


This is the Rann of Kutch. Its an enormous salt pan caused by the monsoon (when it happens) raising sea levels and flooding the whole low-lying area. It's an incredible sight, quite distracting...

Now, if you'd asked me before what the 3 things I'd least like to happen on a motorbike are, I might well have said:
a) have an accident. well, been there, done that, obviously not going to happen again.
b) run out of fuel somewhere very remote and quite scary. well, thankfully that particular village didn't completely ignore me like I've never been ignored before, probably because I was wearing a T-shirt (that only happened a couple of times), and managed to rustle up a litre of fuel from someone else's bike, and
c) trespass in the military zone between India and Pakistan, get stopped by some angry soldiers without enough English (only Gujarati or Kutchi or something more local) to be charmed, and be taken back to barracks. That was not my best move, but fortunately the commanding officer spoke good English, and I was so charming that by the end he was apologizing for not being authorised to give me a guided tour of the Rann in an army vehicle. My excuse for being there in the first place? Distracted by a flamingo of course


Biking round Kutch was one of the best things I've done in India. Navigating the roads with a terrible map (because a good one doesn't exist), trying to figure out which of the squiggly words on the sign is my best bet... one minute booting along an empty road, wind in my hair, noise of the engine, singing "speed demon", "high & dry" and other biker's classics at the top of my voice, next minute slow down to a stop as the road is blocked with a herd of goats, camels, or buffalos, and all is tranquil: the only sound is the occasional soft clinking of a bell around the neck of an animal...


Now, you may be shocked to hear me admit that I'm no archaeologist, nor am I an historian. I'll go even further than that: I'm well aware that my understanding of cultural development, and the timing thereof, is dangerously uninformed, so I'm generally not surprised by ancient ruins. However, to find myself walking along the streets of a city built 4,900 years ago, blew me away.



Welcome to Dholavira. As I understand it, it was created on the 8th day. No, wait, that was the day He named gWb His chosen one wasn't it? Anyway, its old. Bronze age I think. The "Harappan," or "Indus Valley" civilization, wot built it, was the first in the subcontinent to do anything beyond nomading, and they made something really quite special. Dholavira is on Khadir, which is an "island" in the Rann, 250km from Bhuj (where I was staying), so i spent the night at a great guesthouse where I shared my room with loads of birds.


I was the only guest, and one night plus 3 meals cost me about 2 pounds 50p. In fact, because Gujarat is so un-touristy, I stayed under budget despite paying for 2 rooms, bike hire and fuel!

So, I drove around, trying not to get too burned by the sun (I think it was the hottest I've been in India), but putting on sun block, sweating and driving through dusty country ain't pretty. What else? Oh yes, here's the westernmost point in India:


Well, its the furthest west you can go without drowning in salt or being shot on sight.

There was a massive earthquake very near Bhuj in January 2001. Here's where it happened:


10% of the population was wiped out, along with a great deal of the infrastructure. Yet it's one of the most up-beat, friendly places I've been. I doubt they'll ever repair much of the damage, just build around it. But, this is India.

So, I must go. I've written this post over the last week or so, so sorry if its disjointed. I'm now in Udaipur, Rajasthan, which is also excellent. In fact, this month I've been from one amazing place to the next. Its been really nice to slow down, although now I'm in a rush to get back to Delhi for my flight in less than 48 hours! Shit! This hasn't sunk in whatsoever. I'll write about Udaipur when I'm back, and I'll see some of you very soon. Here's a palace that was almost destroyed by the earthquake and may fall down any time. If you look closely you'll see the cat that got the cream...