OYAJI Bikers' Wonderful Little World

2011-09-13T07:13:00.000-07:00

Pass me an Enfield.

Two weeks riding a Royal Enfield through the Himalaya.

By Geoff Keys, August 2010.

Introduction.

Having completed a ride across the Sahara in the spring of 2009, I've developed a taste for bike tours in far flung places, where the riding is tough but the organisation is made easy by using a tour company. In part I'm preparing myself for the much longer solo trips I’ll be undertaking in the future, by learning some skills about equipment, preparation, packing etc., but without the risks associated with getting it badly wrong.

The Sahara trip included five African countries, was mostly desert and mostly at sea level. This trip shares some features of the previous one – a motorcycle, tough terrain and the desert – but that's where the similarities end. A different continent, a much higher altitude and a far slower pace are the main ones but there will be, quite naturally, many others. After all, I will be riding amongst people who practise some of the world’s oldest religions and cultures even if this part of their continent is one of the youngest in geological terms.

“Hang on,” I hear you say, “the desert? Surely you'll be in the land of the monsoon.” Read on to discover more.

Why India?

Partly because it's so different to Africa but also because its the dream holiday destination for many Europeans. Whether it's Goa, the tiny hill railways, extreme sport activities or seeing the famous sights, many people want to visit this country and once I'd considered the possibility of combining a bit of tourism with some more adventure riding, my mind was made up.

My last adventure tour involved the dunes and ergs, sea and sand, camel stew and mint tea of the Sahel. This time it will be sheer cliffs and high peaks, glacial lakes and rock slides, tandoori chicken and Indian chai. Isn't it good that tea is a constant symbol of welcome and civilisation the world over?

About Blazing Trails Tours

Blazing Trails Tours was set up by Suzie Lumsden over eleven years ago. About five years ago Suzie was joined by Damon I'Anson, a well known motorcycle journalist, and the two are now married. They pride themselves on constantly searching out new routes into fresh areas of Northern India, the more challenging the better. They also organise tours in the south, centred on Goa, as well as Nepal. This means they can tempt riders looking for something different all year round. Suzie speaks perfect Hindi and she and Damon love the country and its people and long ago fell in love with the rugged Himalayan landscapes, so should prove the perfect hosts for this adventure. They live full time in India, only visiting the UK for holidays and other essentials, like getting married.

The company is UK registered and insured, so carries none of the risks that some others might which operate in the area.

The tour personnel includes two mechanics, a medic and an extra run leader. The mechanics are Indian and the medic is a professional from a British hospital, the army or a paramedic service.

As well as providing the bikes, Blazing Trails use a Toyota 4x4 to carry our luggage, extra fuel, tools and spares for the bikes. If any bike passengers decide they need a rest from the rough road they can ride in the 4x4 instead.

Preparation

I had made initial enquiries about the tour in the summer of 2009 and I paid my £500 deposit in late October. Decision made!

I then needed to discover how best to get to India. I had to get to Delhi. After plenty of internet research I booked flights with Lufthansa, leaving from City airport and changing at Frankfurt on the way out and Munich on the way back. Not only was this the cheapest option, it also avoided the bloody nightmare that is Heathrow. The downside was the changeover in Germany and the wait between flights, but that's worth it.

Personal preparations were much easier. One lesson learned from my African trip is to travel light. I bought a variety of lightweight, easy care 'technical' clothing, the type favoured by backpackers and cyclists, which is supposed to wash easily and dry quickly. I am determined to learn the 'wash and go' approach recommended by travellers. Unlike the Africa trip, when I had to travel there in all my riding gear due to shortage of luggage space, I'd bought a 120 litre soft bag this time, big enough to take all my kit. Soft bags are essential as luggage has to be carried on the support vehicle and hard cases aren't allowed.

The Bikes

Blazing Trails use Royal Enfields. The bikes are those made for the Indian market and are therefore lower tech than those exported to Europe. However, a useful concession to modernity is made by the fitting of a front disc brake – very handy for the Himalaya!

In Africa we rode sophisticated single cylinder BMW 650 Dakars, water cooled and fuel injected. Smooth and fast on tarmac, agile and flexible on the rocky piste. India offers basic, single cylinder Royal Enfields, air cooled and carburetted, 1950s technology. Slow and steady on the tarmac, a completely unknown quantity on the rocky mountain slopes that this trip will involve. Modern German technology compared to 1950s British basics. But that's the whole point of adventure holidays, to push the boundaries and discover new things. The Royal Enfield has been manufactured in India since the 1950s, initially under licence from the British factory as the Enfield India. But when the main factory in Redditch closed in 1965 the Indian factory carried on and eventually bought the rights to be sole manufacturer. Now they export them back to Britain as Royal Enfields.

The Players

Suzie Lumsden

Suzie started travelling to India and fell in love with the country and its people. I'm not sure how or why she started her travel company but Blazing Trails Tours has been going for eleven years. She learned to speak Hindi and is a very well organised and determined person. When she wants something she usually gets it! She makes sure all the riders understand that she has rules for riding and ensures they're followed. She shares leading the group with Damon and is an accomplished rider.

Damon I'Anson

Damon is a trained motorcycle mechanic but spent much of his earlier career as a despatch rider. He also started writing articles for bike magazines and eventually became editor of Performance Bike magazine. I don't know how long he's known Suzie but he joined her at Blazing Trails five years ago and they got married last year. He's a much more laid back character than Suzie but has talents and skills that complement hers. His journalistic experience enables him to enhance the company's sales literature and being the excellent photographer that he is, his photos do the same. They do make a good couple and I am left with the impression that Blazing Trails is stronger because there's the two of them. Damon is an experienced off road racer and has competed in several Himalya Challenge events as well as, with Suzie, marshalling them. This level of experience gave all of us the confidence to trust both of them as leaders and advisers.

They're great company and it is a real pleasure to have met them. Their knowledge of the area, and of India in general, is quite amazing and it's fantastic that they keep looking for new areas to explore.

Suzie and Damon

Emma Street

Emma is the tour medic. Sensibly, Blazing Trails always has a qualified medic on board, not just to deal with possible injuries but also to help with the far more common problems related to altitude sickness and diet. There is a comprehensive medical kit on the 4x4, including oxygen.

Emma is originally from the North East but now works at one of the big Manchester hospitals. She is a senior A&E nurse and that's the kind of experience that Suzie looks for. She will spend two months with them.

Suzie tells us there is always a queue of medical professionals wanting to join them as it's the kind of experience that looks good on a CV.

Kiran Isaac

Kiran is about 30 and is of Indian origin but lives in Croydon. He is with the tour as an outrider and sweeper, a kind of 2-I-C to whoever is the run leader out of Damon or Suzie. He not only speaks Hindi but also a couple of the local languages, very useful to the team. Kiran is an enthusiastic sort of person and is happy to join in with whatever the rest of us are doing, duties allowing.

Jamal and Ramji

These two are the mechanics on the trip, with Jamal being the boss and Ramji his assistant. They both come from Amritsar. Ramji is in his twenties and is a helpful, pleasant guy although I didn't get to know him that well as he is quiet and his English isn't so good.

Jamal is more outgoing and is older. He speaks good English although Suzie told us that until he came to work with her five years ago, he couldn't speak any.

Jamal has certainly learned how to make good use of the language and has a great turn of phrase, used to express what he means in a very pithy way. For example he referred to someone who can ride the Enfield really well by saying 'He rode like bastard'. He can ride very well too and he obviously knows the Enfields inside out. He and Ramji sometimes have their work cut out to keep the bikes in top condition on a daily basis and certainly have to 'work like bastards' between the tours to prepare the bikes for the incoming group.

Jamal

Ramji

Rupert Paul

Rupert is a trained motorcycle mechanic too, and is also a journalist. He writes for Bike magazine but edits a nature magazine as well. He is a friend of Damon and has come on the trip partly to write an article about it for his regular column in Bike magazine. Damon is also using Rupert as a 'model' for the purpose of updating the photographs in their brochures.

He is fascinated by the area we are in as he used to be a practising Buddhist. This is very useful to the rest of us as he can explain many of the symbols and paintings we see.

He is fascinated by the Enfields as it is his first experience with old British bikes. He liked them at first but did get fed up with the crappy gearbox and the lack of speed, although he recognises they are fast enough for what we are doing. He enjoys the hard riding though, especially the variety of terrain we cross and he is fascinated by the people we meet. He also loves the area we are in but felt that India is destroying its environment.

Bill Higginson

Bill had suffered at the start of the trip by being left at the airport when he and his driver failed to meet up. He soon got over that inconvenience and he and I got along well as we are a similar age and we shared a room.

His riding activities mostly centre around old bikes. He has a 1914 Norton used for the London to Brighton run and similar events. But most of his energy goes into the Morgan Three Wheeler Owner's Club. He has two of them and obviously spends much of his time involved with the club. In fact the newest vehicle he owns is a 1976 BMW R60/6. His only car is a 1947 Riley, so he walks the walk in good style.

He has been to Goa in the past and he enjoyed this trip very much. He is a helpful guy and he organised a couple of things for us during the trip.

Tom and Ann Gifford.

Tom and Ann are originally from North Wales but emigrated to Canada, with their two young sons, in 1967. Tom was a toolmaker but after a few years retrained as a property valuer and has clearly been very successful at it. Ann helps him run his company and their two sons also trained as valuers. They are both nearly seventy and have been on many organised tours around the world. Tom has a BMW R100, which Ann bought for him as a wedding anniversary present some years ago, and they go all over Canada and the States to BMW rallies. They don't miss the UK now and are very happy with their Canadian life.

Tom is a laid back character with a sharp eye for what's going on around him and a dry sense of humour to go with it. Ann is always interested in the people we meet and would talk to everyone, especially the children. She suffers quite a lot on the back of the bike because they aren't very comfortable and the roads are very rough.

She is a master shopper though, and clearly knows her way around the negotiations that are an essential part of shopping in India. She spent what seemed to be many hours in shops undertaking serious negotiations with the owners, and usually came out the winner as far as I can tell

So, a rather disparate group but we all get on very well and enjoy each others company. There's no doubt that sharing the hardships of a trip like this brings people together.

The Tour

This tour is all about visiting the high Himalaya and discovering its secrets. All mountains have valleys, and passes for getting to them, and this is what I'm going to experience. There are many hidden gems, beautiful areas which Suzie and Damon have sought out. The roads to get to them will be challenging and tough, not only because of the roads themselves but also the height they reach. Over 18,000 feet in one case. The whole tour will take place above 10,000 feet so altitude familiarisation will be essential. Full details can be found here: www.blazingtrailstours.com.

Our tour begins in Manali, which is in Himachal Pradesh state, and ends in Leh, the main town in the Ladakh region, which is part of the Jammu and Kashmir state. Blazing Trails run the same tour back to back, with the second one being in the reverse direction. Unfortunately, on this occasion things have gone a bit wrong as the extreme flooding that hit Pakistan in July has also affected Leh, with half of the town washed away and severe effects on power supplies and transport links. We are doing the trip the opposite way round to what was originally planned because the first group hadn't reached Leh at all. The significance of this is that we may not get there either but Suzie is confident that we will manage it by using alternatives to the main road, which has been washed away. This situation really brings home the fact that it is an adventure holiday!

Blazing Trails had put me in touch with Journey Master Travels in Delhi, who they recommend for anyone who wants tour services over and above the trip. I have negotiated a package to include collection from the airport, two nights at a hotel in Old Delhi pre-tour and three nights post tour. Also two days of visiting the tourist sights – the Taj Mahal and around Delhi. This includes a driver and an English speaking guide on each tour. The total cost is IR24,400, which converts to a very reasonable £345. A good decision I think as it would have been foolish not to take full advantage of making the journey out there. Their website: http://www.journeymastersindia.com/

Dartford to Manali

Friday 13^th August. Dartford to Delhi.

At 04.00 I get collected by a taxi for the short trip to City airport. We arrive at 04.40 and it isn't open yet. It doesn't open until 05.00 in fact. My flight is at 07.45 and the check in staff tell me that I hadn't really needed to turn up until about 07.00. The three hours pre flight check-in that other airports claim to need just doesn't apply there. Good for them, but it would be great if the news could get out to the travel agents. I could have had an extra two hours in bed!

Their self check-in system is very efficient and allows me to check in for the Frankfurt to Delhi leg as well.

The flight on the STOL is interesting as it is my first. It is like being in a Mini compared to a Jaguar. Very jolty on take off and landing. The changeover at Frankfurt involves a three hour wait but it soon passes. I have plenty of books to read. Mind you, this airport knows how to take the piss with the prices. EUR3.90 for a cup of coffee – they charge the same price for a pizza! No, I didn't bother getting one. The plane to Delhi is a 747 and we get well looked after, with plenty of food and drink.

Landing at Indira Gandhi Airport in New Delhi I didn't know what to expect. I had heard the stories about the chaos at Indian airports, with all sorts of people hassling you to carry your luggage etc., but none of that happens. It is, in fact, the exact opposite, calm and well organised. The airport had only recently opened and everything is fresh and efficient.

I go outside to where the taxi drivers have to wait and there is a guy holding up my name. Excellent!

The journey from the airport gives me my first taste of the condition of the cities in India. The roads are quite rough in places, with very few street lights. The trucks rule, although not so much because they bully other vehicles, more that they make their way with a particular stoicism and determination. The streets are dirty and muddy, but it is the monsoon season. There are people sleeping everywhere, lying down in any convenient corner or unoccupied section of pavement. The traffic is a mixture of trucks, vans, cars and Tuk Tuks, very few of which have any lights. We make it to the hotel, which is in Old Delhi near a market area. My room has air-con, a ceiling fan and a good bathroom, so quite decent, especially for the money paid.

Saturday 24^th August. In Delhi.

A free day in Delhi with no plans other than to look around and soak up some atmosphere. I go up to the restaurant for breakfast which is laid out in the now common 'find a table and help yourself' system. Except that a waiter actually dishes the food out for you. There is Chol – a spicy lentil dish, plus some kind of bread – Roti I think, and boiled eggs. This is accompanied by tea and later, toast. All very tasty.

One of my key tasks is to change Pounds into Rupees especially as I have to pay Randhir, from Journey Masters, for the tours etc. Reception explains where to find the banks and the second one I try is able to change the money for me, all done with efficiency and courtesy. I then locate a working ATM and am able to draw out 10,000 rupees. With the exchange rate at about IR70 to £1, this works out to around £140.

So, out into the heat of the street to begin my Indian experience. August is monsoon season so it is very warm and sticky, but no rain yet. The streets are as busy as you'd expect on a city Saturday. Every building has a shop front and stalls line the kerbs. The hotel is in a market area and commerce is the name of the game. Interestingly I see fewer than half a dozen other Europeans so this is clearly an area predominately used by locals, although it is outside the normal tourist season. The streets themselves are very rough in places although there is clearly plenty of work being done to the drains etc. I have to step across several uncovered drainage channels. Delhi is undergoing many improvements to its infrastructure ready for the Commonwealth Games in October.

All of the shop fronts have overhangs and awnings, which would prove useful later. Many of them are clothes or material shops, but there are also accessories shops, shoe shops and jewellers. Mingled with these are electronics and mobile phone shops too. In one market area it seems that one section is all jewellers shops, another all accessories, another all domestic equipment and so on. The traffic is ceaseless, with horns beeping all the time. After a while I stop noticing them, which kind of defeats the purpose I think.

The busy streets of the Guffar market ...

... with some familiar names.

With my finances now stable I wander around, looking at the shops and ignoring the street hawker's attempts to sell me stuff – which are fairly half hearted to be fair. They could learn a lot from a Turkish carpet seller if my experience is anything to go by.

I come across a stall which is cooking and selling food and it being lunchtime I decide to dip my toe into the 'doing it local' water by trying some. I'm given a dish of meat and Dahl type veg, a dish with four pancakes in it and a dish of what looks like watery milk with tapioca, or something similar, floating in it. It might be whey but it tastes like a very runny yoghurt and provides a cool counterpoint to the spicy meat and veg dish. I eat it as you should, tearing off bits of the pancake to scoop up the meat dish and using the spoon provided to eat the milky dish. All in all a delicious lunch for only IR75, just over a quid. I also find a shop that sells orange squash and I buy two bottles of water too, at a far cheaper price than the IR70 the hotel charges for the water from the fridge in my room.

Time to make my way back to the hotel as rain is clearly threatening. The rain wins! The heavens open and it absolutely chucks it down. I take shelter in a shop doorway, along with plenty of others, while the rain falls down and the streets flood. The rain eases off then comes back and I gradually seek out my hotel, taking shelter as necessary. I speak to people here and there while sharing the shelter and also buy an ice cream. I have to wade across the warm puddles too – all very egalitarian and part of the experience.

This ATM does work ...

... even if parking is a little difficult.

Although my room has a shower there is no hot water so I have to order a bucket of water from reception and when it finally arrives I take a rather shallow bath. I later learn that it's best to have an 'Indian shower', which means using the jug provided to scoop hot water from the bucket and pour it over myself. This is much simpler and something to remember for the future.

I need to be up early the next day so I plan to go to bed about 20.00. To this end I go up to the restaurant at 18.00 for dinner, which ends up being an amusing but slightly surreal event. The waiters don't seem to understand why I'm there initially but once they latch onto the fact that I want some food I'm shown to a table and given a menu. The young waiter (about 17 I think) then stands right next to me while I decide what I want. Fortunately the dishes are described in English so I point to those that I want. The waiter has a pad but doesn't write anything on it, just makes a mark with his pen on the menu and takes it away. After a while he comes back to tell me, in his stumbling English, that the dish I want isn't available so I choose something else. My final order is for soup, chicken legs in lemon and seasonal veg. I also ask for some rice. By now I know this meal is taking place in a slightly parallel universe so I'm not at all surprised when the soup and main meal arrive together, but without the rice of course! Anyway, it all tastes very nice and fills me up well. As soon as I finish eating the waiter arrives at my elbow once more, this time with the bill. No offer of a sweet or a coffee, just the bill. Which is very reasonable at IR474 – about £7. I let him keep the change from IR500 and go off to my room for a coffee and then bed.

Sunday 15^th August. Delhi to Manali.

Today the tour really starts. Randhir is to meet me in reception at 05.00 and take me to the station for the next stage of the journey. I can also pay him. While I'm checking out I'm hailed from the corner of the room by Ann and Tom who introduce themselves. They have been in Delhi for three days and have already done the City and Agra tours – in effect the reverse of my plans. I book out then chat to them while we wait for Randhir to organise his drivers, one of which had been out at the airport to collect Bill off the plane but hadn't managed to meet him. One down already? Hard to say as he may yet turn up at Manali.

Air conditioned comfort, and punctual too.

We get to the station and are immediately approached by porters, who we wave away, but Randhir says we will need them as it's half a kilometre to our train. This seems strange as we're right next to the platform but it transpires that we have to walk right down the platform, alongside the track for 100m or so then cross over and walk back up the other side. We're glad of the porter and his barrow and it only costs IR200 between us. The train is already at the platform and the porter and Randhir take us to our numbered seats. The carriages are definitely a bit old and are showing it, but they have aircraft style seats with fold down tables and are air conditioned – after a fashion. The train leaves dead on time at 05.45. I'm not surprised as India does run an efficient railway system, a point of national pride. The engines are big diesel electrics and haul about ten to twelve carriages.

The train is by no means full and I have empty seats next to me. There are vendors who come on the train and I buy chai from one and an omelette with bread from another – all very tasty. The journey from Delhi to Chandigarh is about five hours and we're due to get a bus for the rest of the journey.

Peculiar statues outside Chandigarh Station.

We arrive at the station and after about twenty minutes or so we shift ourselves outside and after about ten more a driver turns up to collect us. He leads us to a Toyota station wagon, not the expected bus, but it's air conditioned and there's plenty of room for the three of us. We still don't know what's happened to Bill but our suspicion is that he and the driver sent to collect him have simply failed to meet.

The drive is expected to be eight hours long, although in the end takes nine. The traffic is horrendous on the mostly single carriageway roads, choked with trucks, buses, cars, motorcycles and push bikes. Add to that the ubiquitous Tuk Tuks that add to the chaos in the towns. Everyone overtakes when they can and on the face of it there seems to be no discipline. But in actual fact there is, after a fashion. The basic rule seems to be to expect a bus or a truck to be overtaking another one, even on a blind bend on a mountain. If the trucks aren't overtaking then the cars will be, also on a blind bend. Everyone uses their horn all the time – in fact the trucks have it written on the back – 'BLOW HORN'. Along with 'USE DIPPERS AT NIGHT'. This being an instruction to put some lights on rather than drive without any.

As we cross the plains between Chandigarh and the Himalayan foothills we pass through a number of towns which are dirty, crowded and choked with traffic. Once we get into the hills the roads seem to be less busy but the trucks are painfully slow, going up the hills in crawler gear, barely faster than walking pace. Of course trucks overtake trucks, which are overtaking push bikes, motorbikes, pedestrians and cows. Then the cars overtake all of them. Remember that all this is happening on blind bends. The common method for getting past seems to be to pull out alongside the truck while blowing your horn, get level with the back of it, pause just in case something comes round the bend and if it doesn't, go for it with horn blaring all the time. This madness seems to work somehow although we do see the results of one collision where a small truck have collided with a van and then finished up with its front end down the steps to a house. We also see a truck with its front end stuffed into a cliff, but that looked like a case of falling asleep at the wheel. Most of the vehicles we see are crowded with passengers in typical third world style.

A family of five on a small motorcycle is the two wheel record, three or four is the norm.

It is, in many ways, a tough journey but we get through it OK and are very pleased to finally arrive at the Johnson Hotel in Manali at about 20.00.

Damon and Suzie are there to greet us, along with Rupert. We learn that Bill has turned up. He had waited at the airport until 08.00 then booked into a hotel from where he emailed Suzie. She got Randhir to send a driver to collect him at about 11.00 and he is currently en route to Manali, ETA about 03.00.

The Johnson Hotel is modern but with a style which blends old and new. The rooms are good and the menu is varied, including Indian and European dishes - Pizza! It's probably expensive for India but is very cheap by UK standards. E.g. a nice three course meal for under a tenner. It's good to sit and chat with the others but most of all I enjoy a nice hot shower!

So that's it then. The end of the first day of our tour. It's gone well, was well organised and enabled me to see plenty of the chaotic side of Indian life and to get an idea of what riding here might be like. Roll on tomorrow!

Our modern hotel in Manali.

Many of them use solar thermal systems.

Monday 16^th August. In Manali.

A decent lie in followed by a good breakfast of juice, porridge and toast. This is a good hotel so we're enjoying it while we can. It's nice to relax and get to know each other before the tour begins in earnest.

Emma, the medic, gives us all a health check to make sure we are fit to ride. The plan for the day is to get to know the Enfields by going out for a ride, ready for the start of the journey tomorrow.

We meet up at about 13.00 for a light lunch and a briefing from Suzie and Damon. This is all about the rules of the road for riding in India, how to tackle overtaking, what to expect from other road users and, most importantly, when to use the horn. Emma explains the likely effects of altitude and about the need to drink plenty of water.

Down by the bikes Damon talks us through the starting procedure and gives us strict instructions not to fiddle with things. Fiddling is Jamal and Ranji's domain and they're reckoned to be pretty good at it. Old British bikes always take a bit more looking after and I imagine they'll be kept busy on the tough mountain roads.

It has stopped raining so without further ado it's into first gear and off we go on a ride out to Damon and Suzie's house outside of town. My gearbox seems to have more neutrals than it does gears, despite me being positive and firm with the gear changes, but other than that it all goes well. Plenty of horn tooting is the order of the day, especially in the villages, and generally it is a good ride out. The bike handles quite well but I'll need to get used to it before I completely trust it I think. The brakes are good and the engine pulls like a train. The long range tank on the bike is pushing my legs out a bit, causing them to ache but I'm sure I'll get used to it. The controls are light and the bike chugs along very nicely at low revs. A typical British single really.

We gather for our first ride out.

We ride back to the hotel, getting more used to the bikes and the traffic. While at Damon’s I was looking at the bike and discovered an electric starter. It didn’t work and I asked Jamal about fixing it. “No, no,” he said, “electric start for girls. Use kicky start.” A typical Jamal comment. Bugger, I hoped to make my life a bit easier but no luck. As it is, the bike is dead easy to start. The engines are quite low compression and although we are shown through a specific starting procedure I find that mine would start first time just by jumping on the kick starter, with a bit of choke if needed.

Back at the hotel I get Ranji to unbolt the seat so I can fit the base for my tail pack. That done, Bill and I decide to walk into town as we both need to get money and he wants to make a phone call as our mobiles don’t work in India. We then wander further down to find an ATM only it won’t work. I’m worried that my card have been blocked but it happens to the others too. We find another one though so I’m able to get all the cash I need. We learn a very strange thing about Indian ATMs. Unlike European ones, where you need to leave your card in throughout the transaction, with Indian ATMs you put your card in for about five seconds then pull it out again. If you don’t remove it, the ATM just reverts back to the main menu. Someone who’s waiting behind us to use it explains that to us. Most peculiar, we think.

Bill and I wander around the town for a bit, checking out the local market and shops. It is interesting to see but we weren’t tempted to buy anything. The town is very busy and all the shops are still open although it is now about 19.00 and dark.

Back up to the hotel for a delicious meal of Lebanese Chicken followed by Apple Crumble – again! The area is full of orchards so apple crumble is not quite as strange as it might seem.

The terrain here is very hilly, with fast flowing rivers and some very steep hills, covered in trees – pines as far as I can tell. We are not too far from Tibet and it shows in the faces of the people. In fact, the Dalai Lama is due to visit Manali tomorrow and Jispa the day after. Suzie had mentioned a possible surprise for us and it seems he is it. Unfortunately he had to change his itinerary because of the weather, so now we’ll miss him.

Tomorrow we head up to Rhotang pass – the challenge begins.

Manali to Leh

Tuesday 17^th August. Manali to Jispa.

“Be outside with your bags by 08.30.” Said Suzie. She rolled up, with the 4x4 at 09.15! Some kind of problem with leakage from one of the diesel cans and they had to turn back to sort it out. Never mind, we’re on India time now.

Today we’re going to tackle Rhotang La – the Pass of Bones. Shit, let’s hope not! (La is Hindi for Pass and, relevant to later on, Tso means Lake.)

Packed and ready to leave. The tail pack is a really useful bit of kit and was with me in Africa.

So we set off about 10.15, up through the town and upwards into the hills. After an hour and a half or so, we stop for a break and some chai at a roadside café. It’s very welcome and very nice. We have been climbing steadily, taking it easy and getting used to the bikes. Damon had told us not to stop to take photos and it is easy to see why. The road is mostly very narrow and stopping would cause problems, no doubt about that. The bike is running well but I’m managing to find plenty of neutrals when changing down, usually just when I didn’t want them. The gears on the Enfields are one up, three down. This means that when I’m changing down I have to move the gear lever upwards. There’s too much travel in the lever and it’s positioned a bit too high so making a positive downwards change is difficult.

The tough road up Rhotang La.

Where's my grip? (©Damon I’Anson)

It’s going……. (©Damon I’Anson)

Going ……… (©Damon I’Anson)

Gone! (©Damon I’Anson)

Eventually we all make it through the muddy section and on up the pass. It’s about 2km long and is bloody hard work!

We get to the top, at 3,900m, and then carry on down the other side as there’s nowhere to stop. After a while we came to a café and stop for a plate of dahl and rice, washed down with chai. Plenty of photos to take while we chill out for 45 minutes or so and then we set off, going down now. But – a big BUT – there are still plenty of rough sections and stream crossings to contend with. The bike is much better and it’s gratifying to learn that pretty much everyone else is suffering with clutch problems in the same way. In fact Tom’s is so bad that Jamal replaces the clutch during our lunch stop.

Onwards down the pass, with a couple of stops for photos and fuel. Damon points to where a glacier is pointing its finger of ice into the valley through a gap in the cliffs. A sure sign of the height we’re reaching now.

A glacial hillside

As we travel along these roads we see dozens of road gangs working on behalf of the Border Roads Organisation. They are mostly the very poor from the surrounding area or across the borders from Nepal and Tibet, also from Southern India. They work at the side of the road doing no more than what looks to be 'tidying up' at the edges, although that may be a bit unfair. They make camps nearby and live there during the warm months, heading back home when winter arrives. This road is being widened and has been undergoing work for the last five years according to Suzie, with no idea of when it will be finished. It seems that every time they blast out some rock to widen it the falling debris damages the road below. The road gangs seem to be part of this scheme, even if their effectiveness is a bit suspect. In many ways it seems to be a way of giving work to the desperately poor as much as anything else.

A typical stream crossing with the BRO work gang up ahead.

Two guys to operate the shovel and three to control the sack. Neat wall though!

After riding for another hour or so, over a mixture of good tarmac and rough sections, we reach our destination, the Ibex Jispa Hotel. The run into Jispa is very scenic as we're riding alongside a very full and fast flowing river.

When we get to the hotel we learn that the 4x4 has suffered a near catastrophe. The roof rack has slid forward on its mounting brackets. There is a plastic trim over the metal gutter and this has given way allowing the weight on the rack to slide it forward. It hasn't come off and it isn't actually all that loose, but it means that the fuel cans have tilted forward a bit causing them to leak. The caps weren't very secure and diesel and petrol is running down over the windscreen. Suzie had no choice other than to keep going as it was impossible to effect any repairs at the roadside. She had to drive in first gear all the way and the fuel has ruined the wiper blades. They will try to make some better seals for the cans tomorrow out of an old inner tube and will re-secure the rack. There is a lot of weight up there.

The hotel is of a high standard, with friendly and welcoming staff who speak quite good English. We have a nice buffet meal and most importantly, a hot shower. The road had been very dusty in places and we'd had no choice other than to eat it!

A tough but enjoyable first day. Everyone suffered a bit and poor Ann didn't feel like coming down for dinner, but we're all looking forward to tomorrow. We aren't riding very far so we're going to hang around until 14.00ish as the Dalai Lama is due to arrive here at lunchtime.. It means we'll have to hurry tomorrow's journey a bit – not so much time for photo stops etc. - but it will be worth it.

Our Ibex Hotel in Jispa, with a welcome for the Dalai Lama.

About the road.

When we got to the road up to the Rhotang pass we were told it was closed due to a diesel spillage and this was the reason for there being such huge queues of trucks. The bikes were allowed through but the 4x4 wasn't going to be until Suzie told the police that Emma is a doctor and so they were allowed to pass. Of course, there wasn't a diesel spillage but it seems they close the road most Tuesdays on some pretext or another. Nobody seems to know why.

The road is in an appalling condition on the way up the pass, with deep mud and deep ruts with hidden rocks. Attempts are being made to improve it and one day, it might get done. In the meantime we are fighting our way past trucks that are stuck going up and trying to avoid trucks that are coming down and aren't in the slightest bit interested in giving way to anybody. But getting through it is quite a feat and we all feel very proud.

Once we get close to the Rhotang Pass we enter the domain of the Border Roads Agency. Their job is to build, and maintain, roads in the regions that are close to China and Pakistan. They have been in existence about fifty years and have had some spectacular successes with the roads they have built, bringing commerce and tourists to many previously inaccessible areas. The roadsides are littered with their signs, proudly reminding drivers of their achievements. There are also signs to remind drivers how dangerous the roads are and this is real, given that many of them cling to mountainsides with sheer drops on one side. They try to discourage the normal Indian instinct to drive like a lunatic by placing signs at the roadside. These are often quite poetic and equally somewhat surreal. Two examples seen today are: “Divorce yourself from speed” and “This road has dangerous curves and bends, drive as if you are playing a harp”. Fantastic!

Wednesday 18^th August. Jispa to Sarchu.

The altitude seemed to affect my sleep last night but after a good breakfast we have the morning to spend waiting around for the arrival of the Dalai Lama.

Bill, Emma and I go for a walk down to the River Chandra to have a look, and to find a cradle that people use to cross it. It's only for kids and goods it seems. I've no idea where else there is to cross but the river certainly can't be forded. It's very fast and deep with a huge amount of mountain run off water shifting through. It's interesting to walk up through some of the town and see the style of houses and a bit of how people live. In the meantime the crew start working on sorting out the roof rack and sealing up the fuel cans. At time of writing all is holding up well.

A raging torrent, full of snow melt.

Plenty of people are gathering now, awaiting the arrival of the Dalai Lama. I chat to a guy who looks oriental but comes from Sydney. There are various other people from different parts of the Western world. It seems the Dalai Lama is a real attraction to western Buddhist converts, some of whom dedicate their lives to it. We meet a British female monk who had arrived in India on holiday, caught the bug and simply rang her husband up and said “Divorce me, I'm not coming home”. She had spent time in various monasteries but had found the male monks to be very misogynistic.

We meet a young French girl at the Hotel who is spending two months cycling around the area. She is in two minds whether to stay to see the Dalai Lama but doesn't in the end. She is rather put off the idea by a loud mouthed British woman who is telling her she has to stay, she would be out of her mind to leave etc. That clearly turns her off the idea and she leaves. Shame.

The female monk.

The locals are starting to gather under the welcome banner and have lit a couple of large incense burners. There is a palpable air of expectation around the place and this is clearly a big event for everyone, especially the village people. In some ways the presence of the westerners detracts from the importance of a visit like this as he is coming to visit his people. That doesn't really include fifty or more British females and oriental guys from Sydney. Some say that the whole Dalai Lama thing is getting to be too commercialised, with too many camp followers. But that's the nature of the modern world. On the other hand, the followers from the West do help to maintain the profile of the problems that affect Tibet, so it can be said that there's value in the hero worship.

Incense burns while the Village Maiden joins others waiting for the Dalai Lama.

Eventually, at about 14.00, the entourage comes through. It is a magical thing to stand at the side of the road and be acknowledged with a wave from such a remarkable man.

The Dalai Lama arrives. (© Tom Griffin)

So, we saddle up and set off on the relatively short ride to Sarchu where we are to be camping out overnight. The road has the usual assortment of rough and smooth, washouts and landslides. We have to wait at one landslide for about fifteen minutes while two BRO bulldozers push the rocks and earth over the edge of the road. I did comment to Suzie that I wondered how many new landslides are caused by clearing the old ones. She reckoned it is likely to be a few.

We cross several rivers, one big one in particular where the bridge is closed because it is in too dangerous a condition.

BRO bulldozers clear one of the frequent landslides.

We stop for lunch at a really nice place called the Peace Café, where there is a Ban the Bomb sign painted on a white rock embedded in the hillside. Very much in keeping with the area.

After a while we ride up the Baralachla pass, with a height of 16,000 feet, the highest so far.

We arrive at the Goldrop campsite by 18.00. There are about twenty tents permanently set up, each sleeping two people and with a sink and toilet en-suite. Basic, but good for a tent and they meet the need. The site is in a very beautiful valley surrounded by the raw but majestic sandstone hills that are common to the area we are now in.

Our lunch stop, the Peace Cafe.

The altitude is having its effect on me and I am absolutely shattered, as is everyone else. Ann is poorly and has been sick. Emma is looking after her but is mostly letting it work its way through.

The 4x4 also needs some looking after as it has grounded out on one of the river crossings and is leaking diesel from the tank. There is just too much weight on it and Suzie finds it almost impossible to avoid crunching the underside from time to time. Although there is a shield under the tank it has been pushed upwards into the tank on one of the river crossings. Some running repairs are attempted using some instant metal so let's hope that works.

The sun sets over the Goldrop campsite.

Best BRO sign of the day: 'Don't be a Garma in the land of the Lama.' this is a reference to a famous Indian wrestler and the sign is saying that even he couldn't take on the mighty Himalayas.

Thursday 19^th August. Sarchu to Tso Kar.

There is another motor cycle tour group camping here, Pure Bike Tours, who are having some problems in that one of them is suffering from altitude sickness so badly that he doesn't want to ride any more and wants to go home. They're trying to sort out the best way of doing it, probably by going to Leh. His wife is with him too, so an unfortunate end to their holiday. But it shows how much the altitude can affect people. My two nights of difficult sleeping is a bit of a let off.

Anyway, packed up and ready to go, we head off to Tso Kar and another campsite out in the wilds.

This time we go over Lachlang La at 16,300 feet. The road up is sinuous and the riding requires maximum concentration but even so, I still have a 'nearly'. The scenery is wild with endless ranges of sandstone hills all in various stages of erosion. This has become a feature now that we are above the tree line and I'm fascinated by the rock formations that result.

When we get down the other side we stop at a café for chai only to discover that the 4x4 fuel tank is still leaking. So we spend a couple of hours at the café as chai becomes lunch. Fortunately the café is on a valley floor with excellent views all around, and the sun is out too, so waiting around isn't too onerous.

We then head up to another pass via a road that includes a series of twenty one hairpin bends called the Gotta Loops. Once up there we stop for photos and a rest. Unfortunately the 4x4 needs yet more repairs so we wait around once more.

Ancient cliff dwellings or just eroded rocks?

The scenery here is quite something. Plenty of hills of course, with mountains in the distance. Where we have stopped is on a flat plateau next to a steep cliff face that drops down to a wide river. The river looks to be about 2-300 metres wide but Suzie says the thin air makes distances appear to be less than they really are and it is actually about a kilometre. On the opposite side of the river valley is a steep hill, mostly of sand and scree but with some strange rocky formations jutting out of the steep cliff at its base. At first glance they look like those cliff cave dwellings that can be found in places like Ethiopia. But they're not. They're just the effects of erosion and are the last remains of what was once a rocky cliff face. This is seeing the landscape change almost in real time even though it won't look much different in my lifetime. But it's fascinating to be able to read the history of that hillside from the last few millennia. The predominant feature is the dryness of the land and the sandy, rocky nature of the soil.

The Gotta Loops.

Fossils embedded in the rock face.

At one of our stops I go looking around for fossils and find a small section of rock that has fossilised plants and a tiny insect embedded in it. I want to find a seashell fossil if I can, just to be able to prove that the high Himalayas were once sea bed.

Once the 4x4 has been repaired we ride down to a place called Pang which is basically a small town of tents. There are several café/restaurants, along with some shops selling food and dry goods. It's interesting that they're only there during the four month summer period and service the tourists and truck drivers. Once the cold weather arrives they pack up and go home, mostly to Leh. With six months of snow and temperatures down to -35C, nothing happens in these mountains in the cold weather. Leh itself is inaccessible by road, with only the airport providing a link to the south. Some of the restaurants advertise accommodation, although of a very basic nature. Enquiries reveal that staying the night is likely to be free if evening and morning meals are bought and eaten there.

The 4x4 is still leaking so the decision is taken to leave it alone for now and head for the campsite at Tso Kar. So we ride the remaining thirty or so kilometres with no hold ups other than a BRO bulldozer clearing a landslide. There are a number of diversions but none of them hold us up. It is getting quite gloomy when we arrived at Pastureland, our campsite close to Tso Kar.

Damon and the crew, with Rupert's help, set to work on the 4x4. They completely remove the tank and manage to clean it up and put more instant steel on it. They'll test it and replace it in the morning, so fingers crossed.

Friday 20^th August. Tso Kar to Leh.

The most fabulous thing last night was seeing the night sky when I popped out to the loo. The moon had gone down and the stars were putting on a wonderful show. The clarity of the skies away from towns and cities makes takes stargazing into a different dimension – if you'll excuse the pun.

Breakfast is a bit troublesome this morning. There is some kind of problem between the owner and his staff and we just about manage to get some tea and toast. Suzie is now reluctant to use this site in the future.

Last night's repair attempt has not worked so the crew plus Rupert have another go. This time they try super glue laid over some gauze. There is a crack in the tank that the dent created when the tank cover ground out and it keeps flexing. The hope is that the new repair will also flex. Time will tell.

We leave at 10.00 and head out round the other side of the lake. We stop to have a look and can see the mounds of salt on one shore and also on the lake bed. The salt remains from the days when the area was sea bed. There are some birds in the water – black necked cranes and bar neck geese. We are informed that the geese are the highest flying birds known, at 35,000 feet.

All the bikes are running well and we keep up a good pace. We stop every so often. At one place there is a big pile of rocks with pieces of flat stone laid over it. These have writing carved into them in the local script. It seems they are prayers and Damon believes they are hundreds of years old. The whole thing is shaped a bit like an iron age barrow and the local villagers place their prayers inside. It is their devotional place.

Problems! I spoke too soon and Tom's bike has blown up! It's thrown a rod and Jamal and Ranji are towing it along to where we had stopped. Someone must have offered up a prayer and someone else must have heard it because while we're waiting for the dead bike to arrive a Tata pick up comes into view. Kiran flags it down and yes, it's empty. He speaks to the two guys in it and they agree to take the bike to Leh. Excellent news. The thought of having to tow the bike all the way there must have been giving Jamal and Ranji the cold sweats.

Kiran takes the guys in the pick up back to collect Tom's bike while we all ride further along about 300 yards to a better stopping place.

They come back quite quickly with the bike on board. Then Damon or Suzie has a brainwave and decide to take the heavy gear off the 4x4 and put it in the pick up too. So we have the triple plus of being able to get the bike to Leh; get the heavy stuff off the 4x4; the guys in the pick up earn a nice, unexpected bonus. Serendipity at its finest. The only fly in the ointment is that Tom has no bike. There is a small chance it can be fixed in Leh but it's unlikely. Anyway the key task while we're there is to get the 4x4 fuel tank fixed.

Loaded in the pick up to go to Leh.

Spot the con rod.

Pick up loaded, we set off, following a small river. After a while we came to the point where this small river joins the mighty Indus, the river that gives India its name. We have to go through a checkpoint, there to make sure we don't take the wrong road at the junction. If we turn right we'll be heading for Tibet and that would not make us popular with the Chinese!

We have a fabulous ride through the Indus Valley, right next to the river for most of it. 'Chasing the Indus' is the way it seems as it is in full flood from snow melt and the recent rains, quite often flowing faster than we can ride. The road is mostly tarmac but with the usual amount of rough sections to keep us on our toes (or standing on our foot pegs). In several places the river has made a good attempt at reclaiming the road, with some deep puddles for us to ride through. We cross and re-cross the river several times but never really leave its side for many miles. The terrain is extremely barren and not what you would describe as pretty. But the majesty of the hills each side of this narrow valley hold their own beauty, none of it having anything to do with the hand of man. There are some spectacular colours amongst the rocks, chiefly purple and green, a result of the manganese and copper they contain. At one point there are rocks with interwoven strata of chocolate and cream colours. I think they look wonderful. Sadly, no time to stop for photos as we need to get to Leh before dark.

The riding is extremely enjoyable. On some sections we can hack around the bends as quickly as our bravery allows. On others we have to get up on the pegs to trials our way through rocky, sandy sections. Suzie is leading at this point and she sets a good, but sensible pace. The Border Roads Organisation are out and about, fighting their usual endless battle against the rock slides. But they don't hold us up. Twisting and winding up and down the cliff face, then sometimes up a series of bends taking us away from the river and back down again. We have a fabulous ride along what Damon believes to be India's third or fourth best biking road.

We stop for a late lunch at Chumanthang where we have a meal of rice, dhal and what seems to be cabbage cooked in some kind of sauce. It's delicious and a complete contrast to the rubbish meal we had at the campsite last night. The shop next to the café even sells chocolate, a sure sign of being closer to civilisation.

A guy at the campsite had told us that since the closure of the main Leh to Manali road there are hundreds of trucks using this route. We do come across some, but not really a huge number. Very few of them are going in our direction, luckily. We meet a large convoy of army trucks and also pass several army camps. A reminder that this is a sensitive border area.

Damon had told us about the Bhotis. These people are Yak herders and are the real indigenous people of the area, with their own language and customs. We come across their camp which is at around 13,000 feet. We meet some women and children. The men are much higher up as it is too warm for the Yaks at that level but the women and children stay lower down. About four women and six kids come down to meet us. Naturally they try to sell us some stones and little trinkets but I don't think anyone buys anything. Ann has some pens which she gives to the children and they seem delighted with them. Rupert gets a piece of paper off me and makes a little bird with wings that flap. A clever piece of origami and the little girl he gives it to is delighted once she'd been shown how to make the wings work. We take lots of photos of this interesting group and it's a pleasure to meet them.

Rupert wins friends with his origami skills.

We pass an interesting army memorial site next to the road. It relates to something that had happened in the early '80s, although no details are given. Presumably some kind of border skirmish or maybe just soldiers that had died in various accidents. But there are very decorative memorial plaques and stones, painted red and white with their names and regiments inscribed on them. The compound is neatly kept and decorated with flowers. There is a definite sense of pride here.

Memorial to soldiers who died in the region, mostly from natural causes.

Note the very fast flowing Indus in the background.

Eventually our chase along the Indus valley comes to an end as we enter the town of Upshi. This is where we join the main Leh to Manali road and we stop for a breather and some chai.

One of the things that has become clear in our travels over the last few days is the enormous sense of achievement that the BRO has in the work they do. They refer to themselves as The Mountain Tamers and there are plenty of signs at the roadside to remind us of their efforts. Their claim is valid as it becomes obvious while we travel the high roads and passes that the work involved in building them must have been very dangerous. In fact we did see roadside memorials at some places.

We now join the main road to Leh and its heavy traffic. The road is generally good and we pass some interesting buildings, such as temples, and also some very large rocks with carvings and writing on them. We make good progress until we got to the town of Choglamsa, close to Leh, where we're diverted off the main road down an increasingly rough track. The main road has been washed away in the floods. We come to a point where the Indus has completely flooded the road, an indication of what the town suffered in the damaging floods. We back track, take a different turn and eventually make it back to the main road with the light fading but with only 5 kms to go. Busy traffic but no hold ups and we're at our guest house by 18.45.

The Jurchung Guest House has large double rooms and, most importantly, a large bathroom with hot showers which are very quickly taken advantage of. The dust has really settled on us all after three days riding and no real washing facilities, and a shave feels very good too.

A good opportunity to get some washing done as well.

Tom and Ann had already gone out so Bill, Rupert, Suzie, Damon, Kiran, Jamal and I all go walk up into town to eat at a place Damon knows will be open late. We have Tandoori Chicken, which is delicious, along with some good chat and plenty of laughs, enjoying the loss of tension as we unwind.

Saturday 21^st August. In Leh.

Leh is the capital town of the Ladahk region. Ladahk is within the Himalayan region of India and is bordered by Pakistan to the west, Baltistan to the north (a disputed area controlled by Pakistan) and to the east by Chinese Occupied Tibet. It is part of the state of Jammu and Kashmir.

Kashmir is a small area next to Pakistan, a valley really, whose occupants are intensely Muslim. They want autonomy but India does not want a Muslim stronghold within its borders. To help reduce this influence India has included Kashmir in with Jammu (Hindu) and Ladahk (Buddhist). This means there are Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists in the one state. There is certainly high politics at play here. It is not a very happy situation and as things are Kashmir in particular suffers from violent flare ups. Giving each of the three areas autonomy might possibly be the best solution but that would take a level of political bravery that rarely exists. At least it keeps the army busy. Given all this, it can be seen that we are in sensitive territory. To such an extent in fact, that only Ladakh residents are allowed to have mobile phones which work in the area. Even an Indian from Delhi would find that his mobile wouldn't work.

The area surrounding Leh consists mostly of bare, bleak and rugged hills, although the hillside that Leh is on does run down into the Indus valley. The town, and Ladahk, have been part of Tibet in the past and that influence is obvious everywhere. But some people are clearly of 'normal' Indian extraction and there are many Kashmiris too.

Leh is a popular tourist destination in the warm months and attracts the hippy type of Tibetan and Buddhist culture lover. In contrast are the people who come to enjoy the activities offered by the mountains and rivers – canoeing, mountain biking, trekking etc. One example is the shop offering to drive you up to the top of Khardung La and then leave you to mountain bike back down again. Not for me thanks! We see plenty of both types while we're walking around the town and we chat to a group of British youngsters who are there on a schools sponsored activity trip. Needless to say most of the shops are aimed at tourists, as are the half dozen or so Tibetan markets.

It is a busy town, although with fewer than normal tourists this year because of the landslides caused by the recent rains. The tourist season is normally over by mid September but some of the shops have already closed.

The population of Leh is a mixture of Tibetan refugees, Kashmiri businessmen, Hindu Indians and local Ladahkis, who are Tibetan in origin. Generally, the Tibetans run markets. Kashmiris run shops focussed on selling tourist gear – fine wool shawls, jewellery, T shirts etc. Most other shops appear to be run by Ladahkis and sell food, ordinary dry goods and other services. Cafés and restaurants, as well as some other shops are run by the Hindu Indians. The tourist season is about ten to twelve weeks long so selling as much as possible is important. Normal local commerce carries on around the tourist activity.

Once the shops have closed for the winter the occupiers often move elsewhere. For example, a typical Kashmiri shopkeeper will go home for two months to see his family, then go to Delhi to conduct more business (often international) and to buy more stock. Then he will go south to Goa, or similar, for the winter to sell to the tourists there. Meanwhile the locals will batten down the hatches to survive the winter. Leh is cut off, except by plane, for about eight months of the year.

There is a large variety of restaurants and bars, some large and on the main roads, others smaller and tucked away. They serve all kinds of different foods although mostly Asian in style. Some of them sell European food, particularly Italian, and we also see a couple of German coffee bars.

Amongst the usual tourist shops are general stores, dry goods shops, domestic suppliers and clothes shops clearly aimed more at locals. Some streets have women sat at the kerbs selling market produce – vegetables and fruit. They look to have come from the villages to sell their produce. The Tibetan markets are full of stalls selling craft jewellery and trinkets, along with brass, copper and tin ornamental artefacts. Some are very nice, others look a bit naff. But there's certainly plenty of choice. The town clearly supports the region's population in many ways.

The weather in Leh is generally dry throughout the year, with not much rainfall. The winters are very cold indeed although there is not much snow. Temperatures can get down to -30c, Siberian in nature. The Himalayas are generally dry and they present a barrier which protects Ladahk from the monsoon rains. We experience sunny days with a bit of rain in the afternoon and that is fairly typical for this time of year.

Arriving here has provided a welcome opportunity to recharge our batteries and for the crew to organise some repairs and replacements. It has been a tough five days in terms of riding but also having had no real washing facilities for the last two nights means that the hot showers are a necessity rather than a luxury.

The intensity and challenge of tours like this is very much part of the pleasure. But a wise organiser of any intense activity recognises the need for breaks. Too many challenges spoils the fun and we are already feeling it.

The crew need to find a replacement bike as the other one is beyond repair. They also need to get the 4x4 fuel tank repaired. Damon knows of a repair shop and takes it down there. He later tells us that half of their yard has been destroyed in the landslide and the other half is full of wrecked cars but he is able to use the pit in their workshop to remove the tank and get it brazed. One job done.

In the meantime Jamal is looking for a replacement bike but is struggling to find one. He contacts a friend in Delhi who knows of a bike in Leh that he is happy to recommend. Jamal goes off to get it and then he and Ranji spend the day, and probably half the night, getting it fit for use, taking parts off the blown up bike as needed.

A day off today so some exploring is on the agenda.

At about 10.30 Tom, Ann, Rupert and I all meet up and walk up to the town. Ann had made a phone call from a shop in the main street last night and she had promised to visit it today so we go there first. They have to start up their generator to provide some light for us as there is no power in the town during the day because of damage from the landslide. The guys running the shop are, naturally, very friendly and we all look at various bits and pieces. I'm tempted by some Pashmina stoles as I need to get some presents. Pashmina is a wool that is made from the combed out throat hairs of the Pashmina goat and is very fine and soft, even more so than Cashmere. Ann and Emma are looking at all sorts of jewellery but don't buy anything in the end. We promise to return later.

We walk on up the street, looking in various shops, and eventually come to the German Bakery and Coffee Shop, a good place for a drink and a cake. It's situated around the back of some shops and has a pleasant garden with sheltering trees. A quiet oasis from the busy streets.

The wall of the Tibetan Market with words of wisdom from The Dalai Lama.

We go into the Tibetan markets and have a look at some of the trinkets, jewellery and ornaments.

Tom and I wander from shop to shop seeking our artefacts, with Rupert following along, and enjoying the sights. We manage to buy some 8gb memory sticks so that Damon can copy his photos onto them for us to take home. We also go into one of the bookshops and I buy a couple of books by Jim Corbett, who writes about his life in India in the first half of the twentieth century. He used to be a hunter of man eating tigers. A flavour of old India to enjoy when I get home.

There's a fascinating selection of shops around the town and we have a great day looking around them and the markets too. We finish by going to the other German Bakery and enjoyed some apple crumble, then go back to the guest house.

Showered and changed, we all head up to the town again. On the way there we call in the same shop from earlier so Ann and Emma can look at some jewellery again. The shop owner is a Kashmiri. He and his brothers run seven shops in Leh and we keep seeing them as we walk around the town.

Rupert had seen a restaurant that he thought did a variety of cuisine, including European. It turned out they don't so we go to the Tibetan Kitchen, where Tom and Ann had eaten last night. We have a great meal, served by a guy who spoke good English with an accent that I swear originated in London, although he says he's never been there.

Leh is suffering from limited supplies of electricity following the damage caused by the flooding so we eat by candlelight. Bill is wearing a T shirt that he had embroidered during the day. He had seen it in a shop and it had a Royal Enfield on the front. He got them to add 'Khardung La' over the top of the bike and tomorrow's date underneath it, as that's when we'll be riding over the pass. He'd only paid IR350, a fantastic price for such a great design. The rest of us order some too and will collect them when we're back in Leh.

Very much looking forward to tomorrow as it's over the hills and far away – Khardung La!

Sunday 22^nd August. Leh to Handar, Nubra Valley.

We now have another support vehicle, a Tata crew cab pick-up driven by Sonam, a temporary addition to the team. Damon and Suzie are thinking of getting a vehicle like this them selves as it's very easy to get a bike in the back and it takes the strain off the 4x4. The fuel tank has been repaired and things are looking good.

Tom's replacement bike has a twin leading shoe front brake and is a bit of a pig to start, but at least he's back on two wheels. Ann is travelling in the extra vehicle with Ranji, who had been Jamal's pillion up to now. The Enfields aren't really suitable for two up touring in this terrain and Ann has pretty much given up on pillion riding.

The first place we're heading to is Khardung La, claimed to be the world's highest motor-able pass, at over 18,300 feet. The road has only been built about 35 years and the BRO is immensely proud of it. It opened up vehicular access to the Nubra Valley and up towards the Pakistani border to the north. Eighteen lives were lost in its construction and an earlier attempt in the 1960s had failed.

The road up is twisty and narrow but has a good surface until about 4kms from the top, where it's very rough and broken up. Loose rock and varying sizes of stones and pebbles, along with stream crossings, is the order of the day here and riding this terrain requires confidence, both in my ability and in the bike too. The Enfields give confidence because although not a nimble machine and not having off-road pretension or suspension, their rugged build and easy torque delivery make them impressively manageable.

We stop a couple of times for photos and have a very enjoyable, if challenging, ride up. The engines manage the increasing altitude surprisingly well provided we allow them to work at their own pace. Unlike the riders, who find the altitude is causing breathlessness. Even riding the bikes gently becomes hard work as we puff and pant our way upwards. Ann gets back on the bike as we near the top as she wants to be able to say she rode over the pass.

At the top of the world’s highest motorable pass.

Finally we reach the top where there's a parking area and a very welcome tea hut. Despite the weather being cloudy there are stunning views across the valley we have climbed out of, and also the one we are about to go down into. The inevitable photos are taken in front of the inevitable signs which declare the height. There's also a shelter which has signs in it describing the story of the building of the pass. All of us are still very breathless and find that just walking around is hard work, resulting in much heavy breathing. It has become very cold as the weather has closed in and it has started snowing. Having found the tea stall, the cups of hot black tea are very welcome.

We see the Pure Bike Tours group up here but this is as far as they're going. They have spent a week riding up from Manali and are to spend the next week riding back again, along the same roads. Very disappointing compared to our trip where we don't see the same road twice – well, almost.

We also see a French couple on mountain bikes – very hardy – and I have a brief chat with another French couple who are on an Enfield.

Prayer flags. I almost left one too!

The view from the top ......

..... And the road back down.

Time to leave and we head off down the other side towards the town of Khardung, at the bottom of the north side of the pass. On the way down the road is rough at first but becomes smooth tarmac after a few kilometres. We all feel progressively better as we go lower and eventually we stop in the town at a small tea stop where they also serve lunch. A sign on the side of this little building says 'Menu – Tea and Maggie'. We have no idea what Maggie is until bowls of spicy noodles arrive, obviously made from packets of Maggie dried noodles. Mystery solved!

The shadowy effects of sun and clouds and the endless work of erosion.

On the way down the pass I see an odd looking animal which is basically bovine but has a long shaggy coat. Damon tells me it is a Tzo, which is a cross between a Yak and a domestic cow. Probably bred to be hardier at these high altitudes.

We carry on along the valley and then climb up some more. Eventually we come down over the other side of the hill and see the Nubra Valley opening up before us. It looks fantastic and is so green and fertile looking, especially after the almost endless barren hills. This valley reveals a variety of landscapes as we wind our way down towards it. The river Shyok enters the valley from the east and is very wide and slow flowing, with sand bars right across it. There are walls of stone that have been built into the river which form rectangular areas whose purpose is unknown – maybe to trap flood water? There is plenty of cultivation and yet on one side of the valley is an area of sand dunes. A very strange contrast.

As we ride further into the valley we can see that the Shyok River splits in two and a new river, the Nubra, goes off along a separate valley to the right. Between the two rivers is a large hill and it is, as far as I know, very rare for a river to split in this way, rather than two joining together.

The Shyock River splits into two, forming the Nubra River on the right.

We have a pleasant ride along the valley floor until eventually we come to the village of Handar and our camp ground, the Chamba Camp. It is very nicely laid out, with good tents in two rows, separated by a path with flower beds either side. It looks very pretty and is well looked after with good shower facilities too. The site is in an apricot orchard next to a 600 year old monastery, largely abandoned since the ground floor became buried by a mudslide. Part of it is used as a kitchen for the camp site. There is still one monk there who says he's lived there for six or seven years.

We unship our gear and settle in to our tents, then sit around drinking chai and eating the fresh apricots from the tree. The site is in a very peaceful place and the ambiance helps us all unwind and relax. It's simply beautiful. I find myself enjoying the apricots that we're encouraged to pick, somewhat to my surprise. It's a fruit I have never taken to in the past but these are delicious.

Dinner is at 20.30 and is very good although all vegetarian. Afterwards Rupert, Emma and I sit around chatting about favourite films and so on until Emma goes to bed. Then Rupert and I join Damon, Suzie and Kiran at their table outside and the chat continued. Just biking and travel chat while Suzie, Damon, Rupert and Kiran enjoyed a beer. A fantastic day's riding finished off by a very pleasant evening.

Monday 23^rd August. At Handar, Nubra Valley.

Today dawns bright and sunny and we have a free morning to ourselves. This afternoon we're to go for a local ride. Damon has discovered that a road leading towards the Pakistani border, which had been closed for many years, is now open, at least up to a certain point. This is too good to miss as it may well close again at any time. It's assumed that the Pakistani army is too busy with other matters to be bothering the Indians at their border.

So, breakfast over, Tom, Ann, Rupert, Bill, Kiran and I decide to go and explore and we walk up the hill at the back of the campsite and monastery towards the bigger hill beyond. The path takes us through a very pretty garden of worship, which has flowerbeds and lawns with a stream running through it. There are also a number of Chortens, which are Buddhist symbolic monuments of varying sizes designed to ward off evil and to represent enlightenment.

We walk up as far as the road that runs above at which point Ann turns back. The rest of us carry on up the hill heading for a small red building which is about two thirds of the way up. When we get there we climb up onto it for a rest and to admire the view. We can see down across the valley of the Shylock River and the bare, bleak hills that separate the Shylock and Nubra river valleys.

A view across the Nubra Valley.

Tom and Bill decide to stay there while Kiran, Rupert and I go further up the hill to get to another small temple, right at the top. This is a tough climb up a rough, steep and stony path but we make it and are rewarded by being able to enter and climb onto the roof of this mini place of worship. It had been whitewashed recently – at least, the side that faces the valley below had been. It is built from rough stone with the roof and intermediate floor being of logs which span the two walls and with gaps filled in with small branches and twigs. On top of this is laid stone and mud to form a floor and above, a roof. On the roof is a small Chorten with prayer flags attached. The view from the top is stupendous.

The very steep climb up to a small temple at the top.

Worth the climb though.

We can see right along the Shyok valley and also back to the Nubra valley before the river splits into two. Below us is a very impressive temple complex, looking far more ornate than any we've seen so far. Directly across the valley is a hill which is between the two river valleys. What takes my attention is the rocky promontory sticking out from this hill towards the river. It is almost a perfect triangle. From the front of this promontory, at the top of the triangle, the rock runs back and up in a ridge, almost in a straight line, right to the top of the hill behind. Either side of the promontory the rock has been eroded away, which is what created this shape, but also left are the steep slopes either side of it, a kind of 45^o desert on both sides.

Almost too regular to have been shaped by nature, but it was.

Immediately below us is a very fast flowing river with foaming blue water. It runs down into the Shyok River but when we look back up the valley it has flowed down we can see very clearly the way it has carved its way through the rock. The ravine is 50-100metres deep and, further up the valley, quite narrow. It makes me wonder how many millennia it has taken for the water to wear its way through the sandstone and how deep it will eventually go. The temple we'd seen is drawing water off this river down a separate channel and it seems to be driving a small hydro electric plant, although it is hard to be sure from this distance.

On the way back down I constantly notice the different types of rock and am amazed at the variety. Mostly sandstone, they have a variety of different minerals in them causing them not only to have different surface colours but also to have very attractive coloured streaks running through them. There is also pumice and small amounts of granite. The base soil in the two valleys is sand, obviously from the erosion of the sandstone rock. I wonder if the minerals got washed out of the rock as it broke up as the sand is a uniform white in colour. At the entrance to the Nubra Valley is a large area of sand dunes. Further into the valley it is much more fertile, a result of irrigation. There are some dunes about a mile from the camp, where a herd of Bactrian camels are kept for tourist amusement. Right next to these dunes is a waterway surrounded by greenery. There is this kind of contrast all over the valley, providing green oases in an otherwise desolate area.

Very different, but all found in the same place.

We get back down the hill and go across to the river. We taste the water and find it to be very drinkable but freezing cold. Rupert decides to go for a paddle then Kiran decides to go one better and get right in! So, of course, Rupert has to follow suit. The water is really freezing – no surprise considering that thirty minutes earlier it had been glacial ice! I stand on the bank, a highly amused photographer.

Rupert tests the waters.

We walk back to the campsite and enjoy a really nice lunch then get on the bikes and head out along the main road, which continues into the Shyok Valley towards Pakistan. After a while it is clear we are entering a military area as there is a huge army camp, along with an airfield. No one seems too bothered about us until a guy, not in uniform, comes running out of a hut blowing a whistle. We all ignore him and carry on down the valley. After about 10-12 kms Damon stops to let the 4x4 catch up but it doesn't arrive. It becomes fairly obvious that it has been stopped by the guy with the whistle. Reluctantly we turn back. Nobody seems to be bothered by us riding up this road, through a sensitive border area, but we need the 4x4 with us in case something goes wrong.

Sure enough the 4x4 is waiting for us back at the checkpoint so we all head back towards the camp. After a short while we stop at a café for chai. There are a couple of women there with a cute toddler each and Emma, Tom and Ann have fun playing with them.

Chai finished, we carry on with our pleasant ride towards camp but turn off towards the dunes, where the camels are. Damon wants some photos and he sends Kiran and Ranji off to catch up with the camels' owner who is leading them back to their camp. They manage to tempt him to bring one over to where we are waiting by a dune. These Bactrian Camels are mighty impressive beasts. They have a very shaggy, mid to dark brown, coat, with lots of fur on their legs. Their feet are huge and their double hump is very impressive.

Damon had already ridden one of the bikes up the dune until it was stuck in the sand so he gets the camel owner to walk his camel up the dune and past the bike while Rupert does the required posing and Damon takes lots of photos. The results are quite something, especially after some artistic cropping.

Once that has been accomplished and the camel has been led back down Ann is invited to get on it and is led around for a few yards. Bill has a go too.

Job done, we ride back to the camp for another relaxing evening and a very nice dinner.

Bike or Bactrian? It may be slower, but the Bactrian keeps moving. (© Damon I’Anson.)

Having ridden into a restricted border area it is interesting to observe the role of the army in the daily life here. The nature of these areas that are close to the borders of Pakistan and of Chinese Occupied Tibet is that they have been disputed and fought over for centuries, and sometimes still are. Their peoples are often more tribal than the general population and their loyalty is more likely to be to their kith and kin than to any particular country. In some ways this loyalty is up for grabs so to speak. In the case of the Ladakh region, with its Tibetan population, the Indian government earn their loyalty in two ways. Firstly they lay claim to Tibet, currently occupied by China, although they make no overt military effort to win it back. Secondly, and this is what we have seen today, the Indian army actively supports the local population in a number of ways. These include providing work, schools, transport and even cheap fuel.. The BRO is a government organisation and it provides work for local people, albeit of a rather menial nature. Our visit to this area is the first example I've seen of school provision for the poorest people. The school kids we see on our ride out look very smart in their uniforms Our ride over Khardung La, the only route to the Nubra valley, amply demonstrates the difficulties faced in integrating these outlying areas. Of course this effort to win hearts and minds could also be seen as control over people and it would be interesting to know what view the Chinese propaganda machine holds, although Damon does tell us that the Chinese often cross the border and paint slogans on rocks, just to tease the Indian army.

Following the devastation in Leh, the army are in charge of clearing up operations there too. In contrast to what seems to be good work on the roads up in the border areas, the Leh operation looks to be a bit of a shambles. The roads are still covered in sand and the methods in use focus on men and shovels rather than bulldozers. It looks as if it's going to take a long time to clear.

Tuesday 24^th August. Hanar to Thiksey, near Leh.

We have the usual quite acceptable breakfast and then leave this beautiful and spiritual campsite soon after 09.00. We are to retrace our route to Leh, via Khardung La once more. Then through Leh to a place about 10kms down the road, called Thiksey.

The ride out to Khardung is uneventful but beautiful once more. This time, as we climb up the last section of the pass, the clouds close in and we run into sleet! Although it doesn't have too much effect on visibility, it does become bloody cold! By the time we get to the top my hands are freezing and my trousers are a bit damp. I have put my thick gloves in my luggage, seduced by the morning warmth of the Nubra Valley – silly me! We have the usual cup or three of the black, spicy tea which has been one of this tour's nicest discoveries, and warm up a bit inside the café. Most of us put on extra clothing for the ride down and my over trousers make a real difference. Even with the sleet, the views are still fantastic though.

Even the bus stops have a Buddhist flair.

On into Leh and we head straight down through the town to the petrol station. We can see some of the destruction caused by the landslides, with houses and other buildings collapsed into ruins.

While we're at the petrol station Jamal has to fix Tom's bike again. The gearbox seems to have problems as he is struggling to change up as well as down. It turns out to be a loose layshaft nut, which is restricting the clutch operation, so quite easy to fix. We carry on down and out of the town until we come to the Chamba guest house, our stop for the night.

Roadside rock carvings en route to Thiksey.

Anyone paying close attention will remember that we have just spent two nights at the Chamba campsite. The relevance of this is that both businesses donate part of their profit to support the Thiksey Gompa (monastery) which is on the hill above the hotel and overlooking the town.

The hotel is a very nice building with exposed ceilings made from bamboo trunks spanning the walls, with small, straight branches laid across them. Above that is either the next floor or the roof. Between the ceiling and the roof is a gap of about 450mm, filled with straw as insulation. This is the first time I've seen evidence of insulation in an Indian building.

The bikes get a well earned rest too.

Once we’ve settled in we go outside to the patio areao order a snack. The service is appallingly slow but the food is good – mashed potato with mushrooms in – very nice and a nifty idea.

After our snack most of us go for a walk up to the monastery. The hill is very steep and it is bloody hard work going up the steps. When we reach the first building it seems we are only half way up to the highest level. We keep walking up, looking at the various wall paintings, with Rupert able to explain some of them for us. Eventually we come to a room that we are allowed into, shoes off of course. Inside is a forty foot high statue of the Buddha but the room we are in only reveals the head and shoulders. The window is facing east, more or less floor to ceiling, so I’m guessing the morning sunlight has significance. The rest of the statue can be seen by looking over the balcony of the walkway around it. To say the statue is amazing would be an understatement of massive proportions. The head is huge, especially with the headdress surrounding it. This is in the shape of five petals, with intricate designs painted on each one. The colouring of the facial features is very bright and the blue eyes seem to stare right through you. Two columns go up either side of the head and there is a table at the front where gifts can be left. There is also a shelf where candles can be placed.

The Buddhist wheel of life.

The spectacular statue of the Buddha.

Beneath the window are some cushions where I am able to sit and just stare at this wonderful statue. I have to say that I do get a bit lost in the thrill of it all. It's a moving interlude.

Having taken plenty of photos I join the others in going right up to the roof of the monastery, several more flights of steps higher, which gives superb views right across the Indus valley. We go back down again and happen upon a door that had been closed when we passed it on the way up. We go in for a look around and find ourselves in a long hall, with columns down the middle supporting the roof. Around the side walls are murals of various Buddhist scenes. In the middle is a silver coloured box with a kind of roof over it and glass doors on one side. A monk is busy lighting some lamps that are inside it and when he has finished I say hello to him. The others come over and we all chat for quite a while. His name is Lobsung Takpas and he has been in the monastery for about thirty years. He is being very disingenuous about his status but it is clear we are talking to quite a senior monk. He had been secretary of the monastery for six years but now he has responsibility for the welfare of all monks and nuns in the Ladakh region; the education of the junior monks; the kitchens and kitchen gardens. He has travelled to Europe to give lectures – not about Buddhism but about life in the Himalayas. He says he isn't a very good monk, saying he can manage concentration but not meditation. A good joke and he's clearly a bit of a comedian. On a more serious note he says that too many Europeans eat food with chemicals in and are too fat. How true!

Murals in the ancient hall where we met Lobsung Takpas.

We leave this interesting and inspirational man and carry on down back to the hotel.

We gather at 19.30 for dinner and I have vegetable chow mein, which is very hot with pepper. I also have some fruit and custard and, all in all, everyone seems to eat well. The service is slightly better this time too.

Back to the room, hoping to get that hot shower we failed to get earlier but no luck. Not even lukewarm water.

Wednesday 25^th August. Thiksey to Pangong Tso.

Up at 06.30 for a cold shower. What did I do to deserve either of these? Am I in the army all of a sudden?

Breakfast eaten and bills paid, we head out of Thiksey to tackle Chang La, the second highest motorable pass in the world. Later on Damon tells us there is only a metre difference between the height of Khardung and Chang La, based on the evidence of his GPS. He reckons the Indians have mis-measured it.

We stop for Chai on the way and then head up the road towards the pass. This road is easily on a par with the one in the Indus valley for enjoyment. It has great bends, so we can keep up a reasonable pace, but also switches back and forwards across the face of the mountainside so we constantly have stunning views. It is a beautiful day for riding and it is a joy to be on the bike, one of those days where man and machine operate in harmony. The rock formations are colourful and varied, with the sun playing chase with the clouds across their surface. Erosion has wrought its usual magic with the mountainsides, creating valleys and peaks of incredible variety. I am loving it!

As we approach the last section of the climb we stop for photos and to put some warmer clothes on. I have my heavy duty gloves with me this time and I am damn well going to wear them!

The final climb to the top is hard work, far tougher than Khardung La. It is steeper and rockier and the engine seems to struggle far more. The steps in the rocky road are steeper and I feel sorry for those in the support vehicles as they will be swaying about mercilessly. I am down to first gear some of the time. But I'm not cold! By the time I get to the top I am sweating. In fact, I get out my normal gloves for the ride down the other side.

Chang La has the usual crop of signs at the top announcing its status. There is also a very noticeable military presence, unlike at Khardung La. It's almost certainly due to its proximity to the border.

There is a little canteen where the army are dishing out free black tea. They also run a small souvenir stall where I buy a Chang La baseball cap. As before, we are all a bit breathless so we take it easy. It is cold up there and I am glad of my extra lining. The scenery is more spectacular than at Khardung La and, of course, loads of photos are taken.

Serving Indian Soldiers. One of them served us our tea!

Words of wisdom.

The road down from Chang La.

We ride down the other side, through the usual rough section of road and on down to the bottom. We head out towards Pangong Tso, stopping for chai on the way.

As we come to the national park borders we go through a military checkpoint. We stop but are waved through. But at the next checkpoint, run by the police, we come across a jobsworth of monumental proportions. Rather than accept the information list that Suzie has prepared, he insists on seeing our passports and putting all the details in his ledger. He wastes half an hour of our time, which is his deliberate intention. What an asshole!

But we get away from him eventually and carry on, at quite a pace. Suzie clearly has the hump with the policeman and is taking it out on the bike and the road. It is an exhilarating run although I get myself told off. At one point Suzie has to slow down quite quickly to go across a gully. I am rubbernecking so end up getting too close to her and braking too sharply. She tells me off for riding too close to her even though I hadn't been. The bollocking is fair enough because I hadn't been concentrating, so I swallow hard and say nothing.

We stop further up the road, just at the point where the lake becomes visible between the hills. It looks beautiful, a small patch of aquamarine blue peeking through the dull browns of the hills. A while further and we stop again. I couldn't see why except that we are next to an area of greenery and marshland. But when we get off the bikes we can see some small furry creatures over on the grass. They’re Marmots, the first time I'd ever seen any. There had once been a café at this spot and the marmots have become used to humans and therefore quite tame. We are able to get close to their burrows and then entice them over to us with biscuits. There is a mother and three cubs. The mother in particular is happy to come over to us and take the biscuit from our hands and even, occasionally, allow herself to be stroked. She seems almost domesticated as she will sit up and beg if the biscuit is held just above her head.

Suzie knows how to make friends.

Onwards we go and soon come to the lake itself. Pangong Tso is a long, narrow lake and is another salty one, like Tso Kar, and is very cold. It is ninety kms long, thirty of which are in India with the rest in Chinese Occupied Tibet. It is famed for its aquamarine blue colour and, on a wind free day, the way the mountains reflect in the water. It certainly provides a welcome contrast to the dull colours of the surrounding hills. I learn that lakes of this sort are quite common in these high desert areas. They are salty because they are all that is left of what was the sea and they remain so because there is little rain in the area.

We leave the café we had stopped at and continue on along the lakeside track, which is very rough. Not just stony but with quite deep gullies too, one after the other. At one point I am following Suzie (not too close of course!) and as she comes out of a gully I go in. Unfortunately I don't give the bike quite enough gas as I come up out of it and stall at the top. Not a problem normally except that Bill and Tom are a bit too close to me and get caught out. Bill has to swerve to miss me and comes alongside me on my left and promptly stalls too, then very gracefully falls over. Tom just manages to aim his bike to my right and, being in first gear, is able to power past. I quickly get off mine and help Bill to pick his bike up and we both get going again. A three bike (slow) pile up is only just averted, although it wouldn't have been serious at only 10mph. But it does show that Suzie's rules about not getting too close, and allowing the rider in front to clear a hazard before you enter it, are both very valid.

We reach our campsite soon after and we are delighted to find that rather than the tents we are expecting to be in, we are in the rooms inside. Nice big rooms, with a bathroom. Only two drawbacks – no hot water and a squat toilet. Hmm, should be interesting tomorrow morning!

The campsite is called Padma Home Stay and is nicely laid out next to the lake. It has a main building, with bedrooms and a restaurant, along with the tents outside where we had expected to be sleeping. There is another bike tour group here, a mixture of Germans, Swiss and Austrians. They seem to be staying in the tents.

The stunning Pangong Tso.

Having dumped our kit and changed, we go for a walk along the shore. It is nice and sunny and I am, as usual, fascinated by the variety of different rocks. Once more, the late afternoon sun playing on the hillside and dancing with the clouds provides the kind of varied display that only nature can.

One thing I notice on a windowsill in the hotel is a couple of 12v batteries labelled 'Photo Voltaic Batteries'. On the wall next to them is a cupboard with a control unit and a switch inside. I can see the PV panels on the roof too, so it seems they have a 24v system, presumably for back up of some kind.

The evening meal is good. We share it with the other tour group who have the good sense to bring their own beer. Some of our group are a bit jealous as the hotel doesn't sell any. I don't care.

I have a chat with Rupert afterwards as he wants to compare notes, mostly to make sure he hasn't missed anything that he might want to go in his article.

I go to bed early as I am hoping to go out first thing in the morning to take some photos of the lake and the mountains in the morning sunlight.

Our hotel beside the lake.

Thursday 26^th August. Pangong Tso to Leh.

I wake up soon after six but it is too cloudy and breezy to get the shots I want.

So I do some more writing until breakfast time then go into the dining room. Breakfast isn't quite ready so I sit down with a cuppa and continue scribbling. One of the German women comes in and comments on how I am always writing. I tell about how I like to keep a journal of my travels. We chat a bit about where we have been and the plans for the day. They are heading to Leh as well, before going up to Tso Kar. I warn her to take some provisions as the food is crap.

After breakfast we are chatting with the other group generally. The group leader, a Swiss guy, is telling us how he had recently taken a car into China and that it is comparatively easy these days. He gives me his email address but of particular interest is the address of an agent who can organise entry into China for Westerners and their vehicles. He can organise all the paperwork, number plates etc. China would be a very interesting addition to my planned RTW trip.

After breakfast we have to pay for our evening meal and I take the opportunity to find out what the PV panels supply power to. You might imagine it would be emergency lighting, hot water or something else essential. But no, it's for the TV! A clear case of getting one's priorities right!

We watch the German group head off. The previous evening we'd noticed that all the bikes were parked up in a row, with matching blue covers held down with stones that were all about the same size. This morning we can see that they are all bright and shiny clean and the riders start them up in turn and then pull out of the yard in perfect formation. Oh so very German!

We leave at 10.00, in any old order on our dirty and slightly careworn bikes, and head straight up to Chang La. It's our last day on the bikes and the plan is to minimise stops and get back to Leh as early as possible. The crew have to get the bikes loaded onto a truck and on their way back to Manali. Jamal and Ranji then have to clean and prep them ready for the next tour, starting on Sunday. Damon and Suzie are leaving tomorrow and hope to get back within 24 hours. A big ask on both counts considering they have to go the long way round via Sarchu and Jispa in the 4x4 and the truck. We will have a rest day in Leh before we fly out on our way home.

Chang La isn't all that far away and we set off at an easy pace, enjoying the road once more and keeping it up until we stop briefly at the police checkpoint – where Jobsworth isn't interested in us this time. On again up the mountainside until just before the rough part of the track where we stop to put on warm gear. I didn't bother this time as I'd learned my lesson on the way over yesterday, that the effort of riding these rough tracks keeps you warm.

The ride up to the top is tricky but fun. We stop for tea of course, still served by a soldier, but didn’t stay for long this time.

Back on the road and on down the other side. I let the others get ahead a bit and just enjoy the ride. The road is quite busy today, both up and down, with more trucks than usual but also a lot of private cars. About halfway down the hill I come up behind a Mahindra pick up and once we both get past the trucks in front of us he shoots off at a hell of a lick, obviously seeing my presence behind him as a challenge. Far too fast for my liking but I stay fairly close to him and am happy for him to scout all the bends for me on the basis that if I don't hear any crunching noises then the road is clear of oncoming traffic and I can take them wide. I eventually pass him at a river crossing where he gets caught behind a truck and I also catch up with the other guys too.

We quickly come into Upshi where we stop for lunch. When Jamal arrives he says to me “You come off bike?” He points to the oil all over the silencer and the back wheel, spilt out of the tank. Damn! I'd had a minor 'off' on a bend way back up the pass which no-one had seen and I wasn't going to mention. That Jamal is just too damn sharp!

In good light this rock strata has a nice coffee and cream colour.

After lunch we take the main road into Leh. I want to stop and photograph a particular hill that had an interesting rock formation but I nearly don't bother as the afternoon is gloomy. But I do in the end. The others pass me and Jamal and the 4x4 catch me up and have to wait for a moment or two. Jamal advises me not to try to catch the others up, which I have no intention of doing as they are so far ahead. So I have a solo ride, with Jamal just behind me, all the way into Leh where I catch the others up anyway at the start of the diversion. I really enjoy it as I am able to pace things well, time the bends just right and deal with all the sandy bits in the way I want to. Nice.

After a bit of arseing around the diversion route we make into Leh and to the Jurchung Guest House once more. Back into our original rooms too. A crowd of young Hungarian trekkers arrive at the same time, looking rather miserable. But they seem to liven up after a beer or two and keep things noisy for a while.

It feels a bit strange parking the bikes up for the last time. They'd served us well and we'd all enjoyed the challenge of getting the best out of them.

A hot shower at last! Once the water had warmed up I revelled in a decent shave and shower. Bill, bless him, lets me go in first as he knows I'd missed out the other day.

At about 18.30 we all head up to the town to do a few bits of this and that. I have forgotten my camera and go back to get it. I come across Emma, all dressed up and nowhere to go as it seems she has been forgotten. So we walk back up and meet Damon and Suzie in the Ibex Hotel. The others are still around the shops but drift in shortly after. One of the things Bill is trying to sort out is to get Damon's photos copied onto a DVD so the rest of us can get a copy too. It transpires that the memory sticks we had bought would not work on Damon's Macbook. Bill has brought his own with him and did not have a problem so has volunteered to get the file copied onto DVDs for the rest of us. Good lad!

We all have a very nice farewell dinner at the Ibex. Damon gives all of us, including the crew, a nice silk scarf, very long, which is a Buddhist symbol to wish someone a safe journey. Very thoughtful.

We wander back to the hotel with plans to collect our Khardung La T shirts the next day. Rupert and I want to visit the Ecology Centre. I also need to get some presents.

In Leh. Friday 27^th August

This morning sees the departure of our most excellent tour leaders and the hard working crew. They have to get themselves and the bikes back to Manali by tomorrow so they can begin their next tour into the Spiti Valley. The difficulties they face are huge. As of yesterday afternoon no transport for the bikes had been confirmed, the hardest task of all. Fortunately, by the time we'd finished eating last night it seemed to have been sorted out. The problem is twofold. Finding a truck big enough to take all the bikes and finding a driver willing to undertake the tough journey to Manali, likely to be close to two days. But it got organised and at about 06.30 we heard the bikes starting up to be ridden up to the end of the alley where the truck is waiting.

The other unusual sound, at about 07.00, is that of shouting and cheering. We find out later that Friday is a half day in Leh and they spend some of the morning playing a game of mass football. It would have been good to have seen it even at that early hour.

No hot water again, same as last night. They seem reluctant to turn it on and only offer buckets. I suspect it's because there's no electricity early in the day. Anyway, I wasn't in the mood for the Indian shower trick so I left it.

After breakfast we sit around with Emma waiting to see everybody off but Suzie and Damon don't appear until about 09.00. We sit chatting for a while. Damon gives us some Blazing Trail stickers which I will put on my XT. Eventually the bikes are strapped down safely on the truck and Jamal and Ranji set off with them. Kiran comes back and gets the 4x4 loaded up and they are ready to go.

Emotional goodbyes are said to the four of them and our sincere thanks given for a great fortnight. We wave them off and are left to spend the rest of the day in Leh.

We need to get copies made of Damon's photos from Bill's memory stick. So the plan is to get that done, get the outstanding presents we all need and then go to the German Bakery for coffee and a nibble.

Leh is far busier than it had been last time. Being a half day most of the shops are only just opening. After various shopping efforts we head for the German Bakery. It is a great place to chill out and enjoy a drink and something sweet and sticky and they also sell meals and snacks. We sit there for an hour or so chatting.

An Enfield 'Scrambler'.

We head off again and carry on around the shops and markets. Some hard bargaining is done and successful purchases are made.

Between times we have been trying to get the DVD copied. Bill takes over the task again and finds an internet café that can burn a DVD for Tom, at IR100. That achieved I ask the guy if he can copy across, from Bill's stick to mine. Gratifyingly, it works. I ask him how much and he turns all enigmatic saying to me “You are rich, pay me what you think is right”. Hmm, trying to put the pressure on me. I don't know what he is expecting from his 'rich' customer but I give him IR50 and he seems satisfied. On the way back to the hotel we collect our T shirts, which look absolutely superb.

I probably won't be going in there.

By now we've walked around the town centre at least twice. It has been a warm, sunny day and we need another drink so we head for the other German Bakery once more. Hot chocolate and chocolate cake seem like a good combination, so that's what I have. Rupert orders a piece of Yak cheese, which has the texture of cheddar and tastes like that holey Swiss cheese.

Tom and Ann have decided to stay in town for an early dinner so the rest of us go back to the hotel for a clean up.

We go out to eat and have a tasty and cheap meal at the Leh café. It has a limited menu that somehow manages to be international too.

We have a good old natter over the meal and review some of the sights we've seen and the roads we've ridden. We all agree it has been a fabulous fortnight and agree that we'd all like to come back again someday, with Blazing Trails, naturally.

Back at the hotel we settle up our room bills and also have a good chat with the owner, whose English is not bad. He is clearly a very nice man and likes having Suzie's clients there. As well as running the guest house, he has crops and animals too, which keeps his family fed in the winter. It seems this is the common way in Leh. Summer is trade and commerce with tourists and, I guess, other towns in Ladakh. The town is full of traders from outside the region as well as the Tibetan refugees. In the winter there is some commerce, but not much. There are always the normal town administrative functions to be run but other than that's it's a case of batten down the hatches and survive the winter. I ask him what will happen to the landslide victims, currently living in tents, but his answer is indistinct. I get the impression some of the tourist accommodation may be utilised for them.

A pretty truck.

Saturday 28^th August. Leh to Delhi.

Well, today is the day we begin our homeward journey by flying from Leh to Delhi. There's a car coming to collect us at 06.00. There's no breakfast to eat and all the packing was completed last night.

We actually get a knock at 05.45 to tell us the car is here. The luggage gets loaded on the roof rack and we set off on the twenty minute drive through a sleeping town to the airport. We have to go through security, where the batteries that I have left in my hand luggage are taken from me. We get checked in quickly and easily. More security checks to go through and I must say I don't blame them as the terrorist threat is very real in India.

We eventually board the plane and take off. We fly south directly over the Himalayas and I can safely say the view is nothing short of breathtaking. Peak after peak laid out before us, running away into the distance as far as the eye can see. Some are quite high and snow-capped, others less so. I can see the glaciers amongst them as well as beautiful sections of rock strata laid out on the hillsides for all to see, both shaded and highlighted by the sun and the clouds. Simply wonderful.

We land just after 09.00 but have to wait a while for all the baggage to come through. Bill and Rupert leave us to it as they have their bags and need to check in for their UK flights. Our happy group is no more, really driving home that the holiday has ended. Tom, Ann and I finally get all the bags and head out to see if we can find our car. There are two, one just for the luggage. It turns out that our driver is the one who will be taking me out for the next two days so it is useful to be able to get to know him and to make arrangements for Sunday.

We get to our hotel, the same one as before, at about 10.15, book in to our rooms and then go up to the restaurant for some breakfast.

Later I meet Tom and Ann and we go out shopping. Correction, Ann goes out shopping and Tom and I tag along. We have some fun though and Ann gets some things she wants. Tom and I have to fend off some hawkers and beggars but it is becoming second nature by now. One guy offers us a 64 GB memory stick. Tom asks him how much and he said IR5,000. Tom offered him 500 and he said OK. It makes you wonder if, at that price, there is even 64 bytes of memory on it let alone 64 billion of them!

Prepared here, sold next door.

Help, where's my bike!

The walk around the market is good fun and it is great to see all the commerce taking place and the way the goods to be sold are often prepared at the front of the shop. We see several cloth sellers where the material is dyed in boiling pots on the pavement outside. Indians love their technology, especially mobile phones, and there are plenty of shops and stalls supplying those too. We have some freshly squeezed fruit juice, mostly pomegranate, and some ice cream, both very nice indeed. On the way back to the hotel I buy a few items from the bakery for tomorrow's lunch. I am not prepared to get mugged by being delivered to some expensive restaurant just so my guide or driver can collect a commission!

One area that amazes us is a motorcycle parking area. It's at the junction of two roads and the bikes are crowded in together in a way that makes me wonder how the hell the riders get them in and out. But there is a crew of attendants and the bikes are left with them, the rider taking a ticket, and the crew insert them, somehow, into any empty spaces that remain, and do the reverse when they are collected again. There must be over a hundred bikes there with barely any space between them. NCP eat your heart out!

Back at the hotel I read and write a bit until it is time to meet Tom and Ann for dinner, our last supper. The meal is good, if strangely served once again, and we meet an English couple who are about to start the next tour. We give them the low down on the Enfields and also the difficulties the team are facing in getting bikes and crew back to Manali. I'm confident everything will work out for them.

So that's it – again. I say goodbye to Tom and Ann, wishing them a safe journey. I'm sure I'll be able to meet up with them on my travels and it will be good to see them again.

I manage to catch a bit of footie on the ESPN channel, which is great. A reasonably early night as it's up at 06.00 for tomorrow's day out. Brekkie has been ordered from room service for 06.30. I wonder what it will be like.

Sunday 29^th August. Day trip to Agra.

Today is the big tourist trip to Agra to see the Taj Mahal and the Red Fort. This is a long day as Agra is a fair way from Delhi. So I’m up at 06.00 as I have to meet my driver at 07.00.

I meet Partap at the corner of the street and off we go on the near five hour journey. The city is fairly quiet, it being a Sunday, but some roads are closed off by the police. Not unusual apparently and often due to VIPs coming through. Same as London then.

By 07.40 we have wended our way around the road closures and out of the city. The main roads in Delhi are quite good in general. There are dual carriageways, roundabouts and traffic lights at major junctions. There's no doubt that Partap knows his way around too, despite not being from Delhi.

As we leave the city behind we enter another major conurbation called Faridabad. The only way to notice this amongst the continuation of buildings and hubbub is that the namebadges of the police force at the traffic control points have changed. There is a “Welcome to Faridabad” sign but it is easy to miss. Once we are through this conurbation we come out into the countryside where we join a dual carriageway. One thing to remember about India is that any road is a thoroughfare. This means they are used by everyone, including, in order of size: children with bundles on their heads; adults ditto; bicycles carrying goods; rickshaws; Tuk Tuks; carts pulled by ponies, horses , bullocks or water buffalo; three wheeled vans; cars; tractors and trailers; small trucks; large trucks; buses. Phew, I think that's it. No it isn't. I forgot about elephants, dogs, goats and cattle, with the occasional monkey thrown in for good measure.

Cattle rule the roads in India as they're regarded as sacred. When I was a child I used to mis-read that word as 'scared', but these beasts know no fear. They wander at will along or across the road looking for the best grazing, which is often found on the centre reservation. So that means they will stand there cropping the grass and chewing, sometimes with their hind legs on the road. The traffic swerves around them in a way that shows this to be perfectly normal.

A woman was driving down the road when a guy coming the other way leaned out of his window and yelled ‘Cow’. She yelled back ‘Pig’, drove round the corner and hit a cow. Easily done!

India drives on the left but in reality it seems that larger vehicles – cars trucks and buses – always use the outside lane of the dual carriageway. Of course there is the hierarchy based on 'might is right' and the trucks will always drive in the outside lane, giving way to nothing except the cattle. They manage to reach a speed of 30-40, and that's KPH by the way, and just trundle along in their own good time demonstrating a kind of stoic, fume spewing majesty. Anything that wants to get past, including other trucks, use the inside lane. The problem is that the inside lane, and the cycleway/footpath alongside it, is full of all the other vehicles that use this road. So imagine a man on the footpath carrying a 6ft wide bundle of grass across his shoulders with a bicycle passing him, a Tuk Tuk passing the bike and a motorbike passing all of them. Then there's a truck undertaking a slower truck, and the car I'm in undertaking both of them. You may have heard of animals that can fold in their ribcage to get through small holes. That's nothing to what vehicles in India can do. And let me assure you I'm not exaggerating. In amongst all this, if a cow wanders across the road all of these vehicles will somehow adjust speed and position to contrive to miss it. This is the Road Users' Rumba that takes place constantly on all of India's highways.

In the rural areas the ubiquitous poor man's load carrier is, without doubt, the bicycle. You can put two or three people on it, along with a selection of essential goods, and it will get you there eventually. Single or twin bullock carts are used for hauling agricultural goods, as are tractors. Some of the tractors are quite modern while others are older and much slower. There is one particular type that intrigues me as it appears to be powered by a stationary plant engine, single cylinder and very slow revving, transplanted into what looks like a small 1930s flat bed truck chassis, with no cab and towing a trailer. It goes without saying that both of these will have passengers sitting on any surface that will support them.

There's at least a dozen people in here.

Next are the Tuk Tuks. These are better known as city vehicles, taking up to three passengers and running on a meter like any normal taxi. In rural areas they are much different. They are bigger and have five seating areas. Firstly there's the bench seat where the driver sits in the middle and will be sharing it with four passengers, the outer two likely to be hanging off the sides. Behind the driver and facing rearwards is a bench seat holding about five people, depending on the degree of collective slimness. Facing this is another bench seat, holding a similar number. All twenty knees will be interlaced like the teeth of a zipper and probably the same degree of security. Oh, don't forget the children sat on knees. That's it for inside the vehicle. Right at the back, on the outside and facing the traffic behind, is another bench seat with room for six, provided the outer two are standing on the edge of the step and also hanging off the sides. So you can count all that lot up, include the nippers squeezed in amongst the adults and then think about the three or four young guys who don't mind travelling on the roof. Bear in mind these vehicles are powered by Vespa scooter engines. They tend to cover a fixed distance of about 10km between towns and the driver charges a standard fare of IR10 per person. I'm told that Tuk Tuk drivers make quite a good living!

The other Everyman vehicle is the motorcycle. Made in India and copied from Honda or Yamaha models, they are between 80 and 200cc and buzz about between all the other traffic and will be carrying assorted cargo. Many are used as family transport and I've seen five people on them many times, Dad at the controls surrounded by wife and kids. There is a saying in India which goes 'Why use a car if you have a bike; why use a bus if you have a car; why take the train when there's a bus'. No wonder these vehicles are so overloaded but it seems to work!

Pay the toll. Disobey if you dare!

Traffic control on the route we take is rather enigmatic. There are traffic lights at major junctions in the towns, usually obeyed. There are podiums in the middle of the road with a traffic policeman blowing a whistle and waving his arms, also usually obeyed. There are also a couple of toll booths en route and one we go through has a guy nonchalantly leaning against the barrier with a shotgun by his side. I asked Partap what his job is and he said it is to deal with anyone who doesn't want to pay the toll. Now that's what I call traffic control! On the way out of Delhi I spotted a College of Traffic Management. Is that where they train the shotgun wielding 'persuaders'? I saw precious little other evidence of 'traffic management'.

Somehow or other the traffic and people seem to be able to work things out. Crucially, the speeds are not high, necessary respect is given to the trucks and buses and collision avoidance seems to be part of the Indian DNA.

As we finally leave Delhi and Faridabad we enter the state of Uttar Pradesh. Partap has to stop pay a fee for the privilege of bringing his car into the state. It seems this rule applies to taxis and tourist cars such as he drives.

We pass through small towns constantly. Always busy, always with markets on the street corners, with plenty of fresh fruit and veg for sale. This part of India is very fertile and it shows. In contrast there is also the more pragmatic part of the economy on show with car repairs, tyre changing and welding taking place on the wide dirt section that lies between the road and the buildings. Just the same as I have already seen in Africa. There are frequent roadside cafés, usually a small building with plastic tables and chairs outside. There is invariably a young guy attempting to drum up business by waving vehicles to come into the car park.

We do stop at one restaurant, but this is for my benefit. It is obviously directed towards the better off traveller. When I walk in the entrance there are rows of stalls selling expensive trinkets, typical tourist tat. I go for a drink and discovered Masala tea, a very nice drink of white tea laced with spices. It is lovely.

We make it to Agra after nearly five hours travelling. After a while we stop to collect my English speaking guide, Bipul, who is to show me around the Taj Mahal and the Red Fort. He starts out being quite stiff and formal at first but that's not my way and I soon have him chatting by telling him about my own trip into Ladahk. We get to the Taj Mahal and while he gets the tickets I eat some of the lunch I'd brought. I'm not allowed to take food in and we are thoroughly searched as we enter. The forthcoming Delhi Commonwealth Games have heightened security levels against the ever present terrorist threat.

Does she really mean that?

A brief history of the Taj Mahal.

The name means “Crown of Buildings” and the whole complex was built between 1632 and 1653. Shah Jahan of the Moghul Empire had it built as a mausoleum for his third wife, who died giving birth to their 14^th child. Both of them are now interred in a crypt below the main floor.

The tomb is in the main building which is constructed from white marble and it has a minaret at each corner, also of white marble. These minarets lean slightly outwards so that in the event of an earthquake the falling masonry will not land on the main building. To the east and west of the Taj Mahal, but built on the same platform, are two flanking buildings of red sandstone which are identical to each other. The western building is a mosque and the other was used as a library or guest house. The buildings are surrounded by beautiful gardens of lawns, flower beds and pools. They are designed to encourage reflection and they have a very peaceful air to them.

The whole complex is in the middle of a 10,400km² exclusion zone where emissions are strictly controlled, so as to protect the stonework, even to the extent of forcing a chemicals factory to move out of the area. But pollution from vehicles is now reckoned to be damaging the marble.

The Taj Mahal attracts up to 4 million visitors per annum, 200,000 from overseas, meaning that Indians are the vast majority of them.

Everyone's first view of the Taj Mahal.

The craftsmanship is incredible. There are friezes (or Dados) made from pure white marble with relief carvings on them, mostly of flowers and birds. The borders have semi precious stones set into them, some of which glow red when the sunlight catches them, usually at dawn and dusk. The marble is translucent and is also designed to glow under the light when it hits it just right. These friezes are about 1.5 metres long and are of one solid piece. The inside of the building contains replicas of the tombs of the Moghul and his wife, the real ones being located downstairs, away from the public. The entrance arches have Koranic verses carved around them as do other parts of the building.

Speaking of the public, it is interesting to see the variety of people who are here. Mostly just ordinary Indians, with some Europeans, enjoying the sights and the sunshine and taking photos. I joined in with them and allowed Bipul to tell me all about the different features of the three buildings while I took plenty of photos of my own.

But something keeps nagging at me, as it often does when I see these great buildings. And that is to wonder who paid for it? To my way of thinking the money ultimately comes from the ordinary people that these rulers live off. At the end of the day the Taj Mahal is just a beautiful, but hugely expensive, mausoleum which brought questionable benefit to the people who had no choice other than to pay for it at the time. On reflection, the construction would have created years of work for artisans and suppliers of materials, so I suppose it wasn't all bad. Certainly today the tourism boosts the economy of the city.

Next stop is the Red Fort, Agra's other famous building.

An extremely beautiful building.

A brief history of the Red Fort.

It is a walled city and under the Moghuls India was governed from here. It contained the largest state treasury and a mint and is where ambassadors and dignitaries where received.

Originating from about 1080 it has changed and developed over the centuries. It became India's second capital, after Delhi, around 1500 and it was much improved and extended around this time. When the Moghuls conquered India they completely rebuilt the fort with the red sandstone seen today.

The Fort is designed to withstand attack and has many defensive features, including a double gate with a 90⁰ turn between them to prevent elephants smashing their way through.

The fort is interesting but there wasn't much to see in all honesty. It is still used as a barracks by the Parachute Regiment and this restricts the areas that visitors can get to. However I heard the history from Bipul and took the obligatory photos.

The Red Fort, Agra.

Our next visit annoys me quite a bit although I suppose I should have been prepared. While we were at the Taj Mahal, looking at the marble friezes, Bipul had mentioned something about how they still made the decorated marble in Agra and would I like to see some? I said yes but when we get to the place I pretty soon realise it is simply a way of getting me to buy something. So I am shown how the marble has the patterns carved into it and how the stones are glued in place to make the patterns, which is all very interesting. And then I am taken to the showrooms. There are some beautifully decorated pieces of marble on display and they are probably worth the price being asked but there is nothing there that I am able, or want, to afford and I eventually make my excuses and leave. So no commission for Bipul from that visit! But I give him an IR300 tip anyway when we drop him off.

We start the journey back to Delhi and there is plenty to see by way of overloaded Tuk Tuks, bullock carts, etc. One big highlight is when we drive past an elephant. It is all dressed up in its fancy head gear and has a couple of guys sitting in a cradle on its back. Partap pulls up, almost without my asking, as he knows what I want to do. I jump out of the car, point my camera and take a picture. The guys on the elephant start to ask me if I want to take a photo, and clearly would charge me for the privilege, but I am back in the car and gone almost before the words are out of their mouths. Nice one!

What a pretty girl.

We eventually get back to the Delhi. Partap has to stop on the outskirts and pay his tourist car fee once more and he drops me off at the hotel about 20.00. I go straight to the restaurant for a meal and then spent the rest of the evening watching football on ESPN.

Monday 30^th August. Delhi tour.

Today is about seeing the sights of Delhi and, once again, Randhir has arranged a guide for me and he is in the car with Partap when he picks me up. His name is Vivek and he's younger and more open than Bipul. We drive around and visit Ghandi's tomb, India Gate, the Parliament Buildings (formerly the Governors Palace), the Delhi Red Fort, Ray Ghat and the Jama Mosque. Vivek is very good at explaining the history and significance of each of the buildings. Ghandi's tomb is worth seeing and I notice that all the Indian visitors are very moved by it. The inscription next to the eternal flame is excellent , very Ghandi-ish.

The Ghandi memorial, with its eternal flame.

The inscription next to the memorial.

As much as anything though, I enjoy chatting with Vivek and I learn a lot from him about various aspects of Indian life. He has a very modern outlook on life and is working hard to achieve the qualifications needed to be able to open his own tourist business.

He tells me that India introduced a minimum wage law as long ago as 1958 although it wasn't implemented until 1975.

Vivek also shows me a Baha-ist temple. This is a relatively new religion, founded about 150 years ago and it follows the teachings of Baha'u'hah, a guru who taught the one-ness of god, of the human family and of religion. It apparently has six million followers and eight temples around the world. I'd never heard of it up to now but maybe that's because it's yet to launch a jihad, an inquisition or a crusade. I've no idea why they're so backward in coming forward but I suppose there's plenty of time. I'm guessing that 150 years just isn't long enough to get angry with everybody else.

One site I do particularly like is India Gate, which was built by the British and lists all of India's WW1 dead. Not quite up to the Menin Gate standard but still very impressive and designed by Lutyens. It makes me wonder about the relationship between an occupied country and its occupiers when something like that is done. Was it guilt, political expediency or genuine gratitude?

I investigate mobile phone costs and find that buying a local SIM card would be IR50 and calls are IR0.001 per second. Dirt cheap and it's no wonder that everybody has one. International calls are IR7 per minute – about 10 pence. This is very encouraging information for when I travel in the area in the future.

The Bahai temple.

India Gate, covered with the names of India's war dead.

Once again I am annoyed because I was taken to a Kashmiri carpet maker. I had mentioned to Vivek how much I have enjoyed the various types of tea I have tried. He asked me if I would like to try some Kashmiri tea and I innocently said yes. Hence the visit to the carpet maker. So I have to repeat yesterday's rigmarole of looking at goods that I didn't want to buy and managing to escape eventually, credit card intact. The Kashmiri tea wasn't anything special either. This episode is especially annoying as, following yesterday's unlooked for visit to the marble factory, I had specifically told Vivek not to do the same.

We get back to the hotel at about 14.00 so I go out for a walk around the market again.

Siesta time.

The dog agrees

Tackling the Delhi traffic in style.

A knackered Tuk Tuk and its equally knackered driver.

Sleeping off the morning's work

I spend the afternoon wandering around the local area, taking photos and generally getting more of a feel for the city. Round in the back streets, where people live, there are blocks of flats, very shoddy and rough looking in places. At the sides of the street are often large bins to be found, full of stinking, rotting food waste. Poverty for sure, but also plenty of industrious activity too.

During the evening I see a Krishna parade, very colourful and musical, presumably in honour of one of their festivals.

I go back to the hotel eventually and enjoy another nice meal followed by an early night.

Delhi to London. Tuesday 31^st August

Up at 04.00 ready for my early flight. I have ordered breakfast to the room and it duly arrives at 04.30. I packed the night before so I am downstairs in plenty of time to meet Partap for the trip to the airport. We get there in good time and I give him a tip of IR2,000. He has earned it as he has been so helpful. It was interesting to learn from him that he lives out in the countryside and has a small farm. This is run by his wife and children while he works as a tourist driver. He often stays over in Delhi while he's working, going home between jobs to supervise the farming. This is typical of Indians who will mostly undertake any work they can to support themselves.

Checking in is straightforward and I am through to the departure lounge quite quickly. When the Bureau de Change opens I go to change my Rupees into pounds but the guy tells me I can't as it isn't allowed. He says I should have done it before I came through. As far as I know I'm not allowed to do it there either! Bloody annoying.

So I sit around reading until it is time to board. I am flying with Lufthansa again, this time via Munich.

The flight goes well and we get a breakfast and a dinner. For some reason they think I'm a vegetarian. Hmm. Something odd happening here. I eat the meals anyway but I wonder which passenger is getting annoyed at being offered meat. I get lots of reading done, despite being tired. Unlike the snoring passenger next to me, I couldn't manage any sleep.

When I get to Munich airport I have to go through passport control and back into the European departures area. This means being searched again and, as before, my bottle of water is taken from me, even though I'd bought it air-side in India. Bloody stupid really.

I have a five hour wait at Munich, so lots more reading and plenty of people watching to pass the time.

Eventually I get on the plane for City airport where I finally land back in Blighty. The run in to land is really good as we fly up the Thames Estuary, then loop around South East London and over Tower Bridge to approach from the west. It is a view I've never seen before and it is great. I even see The Valley. Another plus for using City Airport.

I get my luggage and finally manage to change up my Rupees, at a lousy rate of course. Alison meets me outside and it is finally home sweet home. Sadly, the holiday is over.

BRO Roadsigns.

One of the many fascinating things about this journey is the activities of the Border Roads Agency, the people who built the roads that tamed these mountains. As well as numerous signs boasting (rightly) of their achievements there are many signs advising drivers to treat these dangerous roads with respect and to drive with caution, along with other signs seeming to give advice about how to live life. But instead of the bland commands of European signs the BRO uses poetry and humour to get their message across. Most of these signs are in English but sometimes in Hindi too. Here's some examples.

Speed is a knife that cuts life.

Expect the unexpected.

Life without challenge, depth and vision is a blind experience.

Half hearted effort does not produce half results, it produces no results.

Traffic jam, yellow tape, parents crying.

Test your nerves but not on my curves.

Safety on the road, safe tea at home.

A spill, a slip, a hospital trip.

Life is a limited company with unlimited dreams.

Speed thrills but often kills.

Driving faster can cause disaster.

Night time doubles traffic troubles.

We break mountains but bring together hearts.

This road is dangerous with many curves. Drive it like you are playing a harp.

Divorce speed.

Don't be a Gama in the land of the Lama.

I'd love to see signs like this in Britain. Where's the poetry we all crave so much?

Some thoughts about India.

How busy the towns and cities are. You can read about this but you have to see, feel, hear and smell it to know what it means. The movement of people and goods is ceaseless and commerce takes place everywhere throughout the day.

How much traffic there is. You need to suspend all British sense of organisation and 'rules of the road' to be able to prevent the apparent chaos getting under your skin. Patience and flexibility are the watchwords here. It all works out in the end.

The poverty you see. People sleeping on the streets is so common it's just normal. I didn't see as many beggars as I expected to but they're there. But I suppose it's relative. Poverty is entrenched but people that we might see as poor may not necessarily feel they are. But yes, there is still a huge gap between the haves and the have not’s and I wasn't in India long enough to understand the influence of the caste system.

Money. The currency is the Indian Rupee (IR) but they give large amounts of Rupees different names. IR100,000 = one Lac; 100 Lac = one Crore. In effect, one Crore = IR10 million, and this unit is often used by newspapers when referring to government spending etc.

How industrious people are. Everybody seemed to be involved in some activity or another, aiming to earn a living. The efforts of the sellers to sell always seemed to be rewarded by the willingness of the buyers to buy.

Getting on with life. Particularly in Leh, where the infrastructure had been so badly damaged by the flooding and landslides, everyone managed to find a way to keep their business running. Eating by candlelight, for example, was a privilege because it fitted in with the restaurant owners efforts to keep his business going. Likewise 'suffering' a limited menu because he just couldn't supply everything he'd like to without electricity.

Peoples' approachability. Everyone is friendly and helpful. OK, you might think they're looking for a chance to make a Rupee or ten, but no-one ever gave the impression they were on the make.

The English language, which seems to be as much a Lingua Franca as Hindi. India has three common languages – Hindi, Punjabi and English, often accompanied by a local dialect, as in Ladakh. This might mean seeing road signs with four languages on them. The normal minimum was two, Hindi and English. Where there was only room for one, then it would usually be English. I found this very strange but also very useful and strangely gratifying. Not just road signs but in other places too, such as shop names.

Vehicles. It's common knowledge that India builds cars and motorcycles based on old British designs as well as more modern Japanese ones. Vying with the Royal Enfield for longevity is the Ambassador car based on the 1955 Morris Oxford MkII. A real 'sit up and beg' design which, strangely, is often the preserve of government officials and, well, ambassadors! I suppose it's the old fashioned leather plushness they like. India also makes copies of small Suzuki cars and Japanese pick-ups of an origin I couldn't recognise, along with Honda motorcycle copies. Ten and twelve ton trucks are based on old Bedfords and the army uses Dafs. I felt quite at home in an old fashioned kind of way.

Tuk Tuks. These are the ubiquitous three wheel taxi, familiar from films and documentaries. They come in two sizes, City and Country. As already described, they are used more like buses in the rural areas but operate like any other taxi in the cities, with meters and tight regulation. The same basic vehicle is also used as a light commercial, but with a loading platform instead of seats. Made by Vespa, or more probably copied under licence, they are the Transit Van of India. Their size and manoeuvrability are absolutely suited to India's crowded roads and streets. I was impressed to discover that all the Tuk Tuks in Delhi run on LPG or CNG, as do buses and other taxis. Indian cities all want their public transport to use these fuels so as to reduce air pollution. Delhi is the only one to have completely achieved it so far.

Roads. Busy, busy, busy and as bad as everything you've read or heard elsewhere. But bear in mind that the pace is very slow and somehow it all works out in the end. And they drive on the left too.

Landscape. The Himalayan area is as raw, wild and challenging as you might ever imagine it to be. Unaffected by the feeble doings of humans, the mountains really are nature, red in tooth and claw. Anyone foolish enough to try and work against them will come to a sticky (rocky?) end. The only way to survive is to work with nature and the seasons to somehow survive. The people of Ladakh have become experts at it. I found the scenery to be overwhelmingly beautiful and loved the rocky landscape. I was particularly taken by the variation in the rocks and their colours and the way that erosion had shaped them. I didn't miss trees and grass in the slightest and their absence made it easy to see the way wind and weather change the earth's surface across the millenia. It was awesome to think that the rocks I was riding across at 18,300 feet were once the seabed.

Value for money. Was it? Of course it was! India is a cheap country to holiday in and with flights at around £500 return it's not difficult to make UK a income go along way. Add in the fantastic motorcycling experience and there's no reason for any regrets.

Would I go again? YES!

Geoff Keys.
August 2011

I love my bike

2011-08-24T14:42:00.000-07:00

The Lake District

Scotland and the Cheviots

Lindisfarne

Inverness

Bike Parking Space at new M1 service station

En route to Loch Lomond

B and B on the Caledonian Canal

A £23 million toy with a yacht on the Caledonian.

Loch Ness

Dropping down to Lancaster, clean!

Lake District

Largs to Cumbrae ferry, Ayrshire.

Trough of Bowland, Lancashire.

From fort Wiiliam to Glen Elg

Mallory Park. 26th June 2011. Race of the Year.

2011-06-27T05:36:00.000-07:00

The CB 500 owners club of Malvern and District, if there were such a thing, would be centred on Andy from A and S motorcycles. On Friday in the small workshop there were no fewer than 7 CB 500 owners gathered when I arrived to break the clan!

We rode with him at a brisk pace past the site of the Battle of Bosworth (1485 Penultimate battle in the English Civil War Battle War of the Roses between the Houses of Lancaster and York) through Fenny Drayton where the founder of the Quakers was born, and along the old Roman Road Watling Street, to meet Penfold, (on his CB500), Brian (on his CB500) and Mrs Brian (some Kawasaki or something, according to Andy!).

Sae, Martin and Andy on a scorching day at Mallory.

Mallory Park is known as, 'The Friendly Circuit', and it lived up to its billing. It is one of the shortest circuits in the UK with the superbike circuit measuring just 1.4 miles. It's also where spectators can get closest to the races.

It started as a track for pony trotting, but it has had a good deal of re-modelling, but Penfold and Andy remember seeing Casey Stoner's first ride in the UK when he was just a nipper. Apparantly even at that age it was clear he would be a future World Champion Moto GP rider.

Mobile dyno-jet checks after each race. Ruling out any '600cc engine in a 400cc race' mistakes.The big race of the day was just after lunch. We took position about three feet from the racing line. Amazing experience to be this close to the best race of the day. It was close from re-start to finish. 22 laps took just under 22 minutes and Sam Lowes, fresh from his 3rd place in the World Superbike Supersport finish in Misano Italy the previous week, raced past us to win, and he adds his name to the coveted Race of the Year trophy alongside the likes of Crutchlow, Sheene, Hailwood, and Agostini. He narrowly beat ex GP racer James Ellison.

We had gone to see Flipper, (you guessed it, a CB500 owner!) who has moved up from racing CB's to racing in the 600cc class on his Hornet.

Flipper about to re-take the Suzuki in front of him to take second in his first race of the morning
Easy to spot in his distictive leathers, temperatures soared on the hottest day of the year, making the track slippery. Flipper hung on in both of his races to take second - a great achievement in what is a new class for him.

Above - Flipper in Race 2 at Shaw's hairpin, the sharpest turn of any UK track There were three accidents in front of us here in the afternoon. Note the wall which the top riders brush alongside.

Race 2 Lap 3

Race 2 Lap 4 - edging just slightly ahead

and pulling away in the penultimate lap.

Andy at Flippers RV, with his Number 27 Hornet complete with tyre warmers.

You can just see the lake where a special island was built for a Bay City Rollers concert in 1975. Not a lot of people knew that!

The next major event at Mallory Park is the VMCC’s Festival of 1000 Bikes featuring triple GP Legend King Kenny Roberts getting on a race bike in Britain for the first time since 1984.race bike in Britain for the first time since 1984.

Snowdonia. Spring 2011.

2011-06-27T05:05:00.000-07:00

Just brilliant!
Clear roads, great weather, new Anakee 2 rear tyre.

Amazing scenery - Sae's first view of Snowdon in three attempts!
Really friendly bikers en route.

Perfect roads without the usual dawdling tourist traffic, enabled us to make good progress and see the sights.

As a final treat, we stopped to allow Sae to enjoy her first experience of Little Chef. Nostalgia for me - it must be 20 years since I went into one. Little seems to have changed, least of all the decor.

Trip to Norfolk. The Hot Spring of 2011.

2011-06-27T03:33:00.001-07:00

Richard and Cordelia kindly invited us down for a much needed break for a couple of days. Catching up with their friends and family was a wonderful way to start our quick tours of Norfolk and then North Wales.

We visited the working farm at Wimpole Hall which threw us some suprises - feeding time!

We then headed to Sandringham after popping in to see Ely Cathederal (1082, but on a Christian site from 673). The last time I was here was when my friend Robin lived here. Its good to see it is still well defended with a Russian cannon.

Crossing the Great Ouse we continued to Kings Lynn via some minor roads exploring the Fens. Obviously, very Dutch. A nice change of atmosphere in Sandringham Country Park.
On to sunny Hunny, Hunstanton, enjoying the distinctive village which are found hereabouts.
The Norolf coastal path runs from the town, but so does the A149, with excellent detours north to the salt marshes, then through wonderful villages to ahem, ''Britians answer to Cape Canaveral'' the picturesque village of Brancaster.The idea to turn this area alongside scolt Head Island into Britains space programme launch site was only abandoned when North Sea Oil rigs flourished and it was deemed too dangerous with the threat of debris landing on the rigs.

Burnham market and Wells Next The Sea (wherever that may be) both deserved more time to explore. The village of Stiffkey couldnt hold us so we moved on past the National Trust salt marshes to Blakeney.

This was another wonderful spot to spend the night. A local pub/restaurant had a vacancy, right by the marshes and perfect for a brilliant red sunset. In its dayit was a major sea port and centre for piracy - especially of vessels from Flanders in the 12th and 13th centuries. It was also one of the few ports who refused to supply a vessel to fight the Armada.

Today rich second-homers and the yachting crowd dominate.

Great biking roads, quite deserted even during this half term, all the way to the seaside resort of Cromer. It has a pier complete with theatre and was a very early 19th century resort, as rich Norwich bankers took advantage of the sea air. The former brick kilns have been transformed into Amazona zoo which we managed to avoid, somehow.No Geographer could miss the famous Happisborough, pictured above. A great locastion that covers every type of coastal defence (except a sea wall), all of which have failed. Access to the beach is now via a dog-friendly tower, which provides a fine view of successive attempts since 1959 to prevent the rapid loss of land.

It also has Englands only independent lighthouse.The A149 leads on to the Broads National Park We diverted to Horsey and no trip would be complete without a trip up a Water Mill. This is just a stunnig spot for relaxing, though not all the boats we saw on the broads were exactly tranquil!

We missed Oyaji Kevin by a day but decided to visit Great Yarmouth so Sae could see another proper seaside resort. More caravan parks than Devon, we relaxed by the vVictorian boating pond which was suprisingly well used, and admired the view of the massivew offshore wind farm.

The train is small, Sae is far away. Strange perspectives in Norfolk.

Popped in to Norwich to do a brief 'Alan Partridge' style tour of the sights, then headed the 200 miles home. The Tiger, again, was faultless.

Videos

2011-05-04T11:00:00.001-07:00

These can all be found on youtube, but thought it would be good to post them on the blog itself.

Plenty more to follow (or you could whizz off to The YouTube site to view the ones that are already on there. don't though, we prefer you to be here

Look ahead on the road!

2011-04-24T14:58:00.000-07:00

...or a head!?
on the way from Somme to Verdun, Day 2

day 4 - north from Verdun to Cambrai-ush

2011-04-20T14:06:00.001-07:00

Another hotel with free WiFi allowing me to update the blog. Around 190 miles covered.today from verdun to somewhere near Cambrai by way of some fantastic straight bits and some even better twisties. Riding through the Ardennes valleys we had some breathtaking scenery. Photos will have to follow since I always try to update at the end of a long and tiring day.
Ee had to make a couple of diversions thanks to some roadworks and an accident. However, we eventually finished up in an "Akena" hotel, next to cheap fuel and a Buffalo Grill restaurant.
Short day's riding tomorrow to Arras and Ypres.

northern france trip april 2011 - Day 3

2011-04-19T13:49:00.000-07:00

Not much of a riding day today, only around 20 miles in total but we saw so much. A quick trip into the hills to the east of verdun and we found three forts built to protect the town after the Franco-Prussian war in the late 19th century. These were fought over for around 10 months of 1916.
The evidence if shell-fire, trenches and barbed wire is obvious all around the the Forts of Douaumont, Vaux and Souville. All were of similar construction but very different in their state of repair and history. Two had been captured and regained, one was pretty much as left in 1918.
The trench of bayonets, and the verdun memorial were also visited but the sun and heat was starting to wear us down a little.
After a short rest back at the hotel we went back to the same restaurant as last night. A lot of wine/beer/laughs leaves me unable to write very much more.
Heading north along the Meuse river tomorrow. No particular plan other than to het somewhere closer to Arras.

Another very fine day.

oyaji trip to Northrtn France , April 2011 day 2

2011-04-18T14:29:00.000-07:00

A breakfast at a sensible time started the day. Bacon (well, warm ham) and eggs (scrambled) provided the substantial backing to coffee, croissants and other continental offerings.
The free WiFi worked wonders allowing us to book the return journeys on the eurotunnel, although there was a lot of having to press the back button on Kev's phone. But at least we known when we'll be back in the UK.
With the riders refuelled we headed into Arras town to fuel the bikes and empty the cashpoint machines. We also managed to forget to visit the Arras memorial to find a family name. Oh well, there's always the return journey.
Then followed a 22 mile ride under a brilliantly cloudless skiesto the British memorial at Thiepval. This marks the spot of one of the major battles of the Somme offensive of July 1st 1916. The memorial itself has 72000 names of British soldiers who gave their lives in that area during WW1 was designed by Edwin Lutyens and can be seen from miles away. The visitor's centre is very informative and educated while keeping an air of dignity and soul, unlike the Theme park feel of Vimy yesterday.
We then moved on through the Somme, pretty much following the frontline. Luckily we stumbled upon the Lochnagar crater, formed by one of the mines laid by British Troops under
German lines. The mine used 60,000 pounds of explosive leaving a crater around 250 feet across and 100 feet deep. Impressive, astounding, astonishing, frightening.
After visiting a couple of the smaller commonwealth war cemeteries we headed for Verdun.
Once again, fantastic roads with the sun in our backs, including riding through an avenue of trees with the sun setting directly behind us. I reckon the drugs designed that road.
We finally arrived at the hotel du Tigre in Verdun under cover of darkness. the town had pretty much shut for the night except one restaurant which stayed open just for us. Lovely people so we're going back tomorrow.
Before that though, sleep is needed.
Night all.

oyaji trip to Northrtn France , April 2011

2011-04-17T13:24:00.000-07:00

Day one of the latest tour took off with Graham leaving home in the midlands at just gone 6am. Richard and Sae left Geoff's at 930 while Kevin waited for them at bluebell hill. At this point Sae still didn't know that Kevin was going on the trip and it was only once everyone was on the train that she realised there were 6 on the trip.
After a quick cuppa at friend OJ's Martello Tower in Sandgate we met the train with no fuss and were soon in Calais getting lost with Kevin off-roading to get in the correct route.
After a quick stop for food we finally ended up at Vimy where the Canadians managed to force the Germans back (9th April 1917). Trenches have been preserved at Vimy but it has all become a little clinical after a facelift in 2007. A short walk around the Canadian Memorial, followed by the short ride to our B&B hotel (free WiFi) got us to our first planned destination.
FDinner at Flunch (a sort of help yourself buffet type restaurant on the same industrial park as our hotel and we're all back at the hotel by 1030. A good might's sleep needed after a good day's riding.
Heading to Arras town first thing to find a family name on the memorial and then on through the Somme towards Verdun.
Day 1 done with no major incidents or accidents so that's a success.

So the Oyaji's expand

2011-03-25T16:46:00.000-07:00

Welcome Richard and Graham!

As we finalise our trip to northern europe, we look forward to your contributions

Profiles first chaps!

Click Charity

2011-03-20T16:05:00.000-07:00

If you click this 1 yen will be donated to charity. You don't have pay yourself- the sponsor will do. You can click once a day. THANKS!

Best purchases for motorcycle touring

2010-08-20T07:25:00.000-07:00

Lots of new goodies for this trip.
Really pleased with all of these
Autocom - a great intercom and with an mp3 player something I wouldnt tour without. Crystal clear comms, frugal on batteries, though in future I'll wire it to the bikes battery.
Tom Tom sat nav - first time using one and it was a brilliant tool, though I would never travel without a road map too - for the bigger picture, gradients and 'green routes' planning. The AA maps Kevin supplied us with were great for planning which scenic route we would follow each day.
Cigarette lighter power point. Not the triumph fitted one, but added under seat. Great for powering mMP3 player and Sat nav
Triumph gel seats - so very much better than riding the Dommie, obviously, but probably an improvement on the stock Tiger and they look great.
Triumph Tiger tank bag. Really well designed piece of kit. Massively expandable - great for adding lunch, drinks souveniers on top of the other stuff already being carried. Top clear cover is excellent - holds maps, pocket for passports, toll money mobile phones, sat nav (cushioned in memory foam cradle I carved to place it safely at the best angle for riding/reading) .can be easily removed when sightseeing or placed on waterproof cover which cleverly fits snugly on standard or expanded bag.
Givi 48 litre top box bought a day before departure from the excellent Andy at A and S, our local bike shop in Malvern. Second hand but newish and great value at £30 including base plate.
Triumph pannier bags. Took a day or two to pack them correctly as the OE panniers are not uniform due to the single exhaust, but meant the trip from bike to hotel room at the end of the day was a quick one way trip. Highly recommended.
Computer Had trouble at first finding wi fi access - many hotels claim to have it but often dont or charge like a raging bull for access, B+B chain was the best and it helped with booking hotels researching roads or places we visited as well as storing photos, burning and watching DVD's, sending emails etc.
Altberg Boots - Made to measure, light flexible easy to walk around the sights in and provide a sense of real security. Top kit

Day 21 St Malo to Portsmouth and Malvern

2010-08-20T04:35:00.000-07:00

To avoid the dreadful dreary northern coast to Calais we decided a return via Le Havre or Cherbourg would be best. At £100 the fuel toll and time savings made it make sense. Then Brittany ferries at £130 from St Malo looked like a cruise we could take.

Great ship, cabaret all afternoon, including Dick Whittington - oh how we laughed - proved preferable than the films on offer, great food and all much more reasonable than the Calais shuffle. Will definately take this route again - we plan to hit Spain and Portugal when the time arises. The unloading crew were great fun - bikes go off last.

St Malo harbour was fascinating to see - the walled city the container and sailing ships and the marina, as well as the many defensive forts and islands made us think of our friend OJ living in his Martello tower back in England.
Had an interesting chat with a silversmith who worked in the jewellery quarter in Birmingham (who has worked on FA Cup silverware) on his way back from his family summer home near Bordeaux, and prefers this route to flying.
HMS Ark Royal was in port as we had the real joy of seeing the city from the 9th floor of the ferry. The range of past and present naval ships was amazing - almost worth the ferry fare alone. Spinnaker tower, the dinosaur and the waterfront look great and a refreshing change from Dover!
So for one last mount and the ride to Malvern.

Day 20 to Frederique and St Malo

2010-08-20T04:32:00.001-07:00

Through the joy of Facebook, Sae was able to catch up with our friend from Phuket, Frederique and her husband Simon and their 6 month old son Helios who spent the day laughing and being unbelievably adorable. Frederique had spent a few weeks with us in Peru four or five years ago. To see her newly and obviously very happily married to the wonderful, cool, hard-working Simon was heartwarming. Simon has rennovated the house in between working for Airbus.

They are creating a family home from a derelict barn and had recently completed the roofing.

Frederique Sae and the truly delightful Helios.

As friends arrived we said our goodbyes and promised to nip over later in the year when the project will be completed. A wonderful atmosphere surrounded this idyllic homely corner of France, just outside Nantes and we cant wait to return.

So, just before the heavens opened, we came to our final hotel. Frederique tried hard for us, phoning all around St Malo but in the busiest weekend of the french holidays we couldnt be too choosy. Despite the signs it was neither a restaurant, nor after 9.23pm (!?), was it a bar. A bar full of motoring memorabilia but no one to run it. At least our bed in Malvern will be luxury tomorrow!

Day 19 Bordeaux to Nantes

2010-08-13T00:49:00.001-07:00

Check in to these French Motels and its 15 euros.
Check out and its up to 51 euros.

and on the ridge in the background, the Oyaji's passed by on their way to the Millau bridge, all those years ago!

Day 18 Bordeaux

2010-08-13T00:48:00.002-07:00

Day 17 Scenic route to Rodez

2010-08-13T00:48:00.001-07:00

Following the green route scenic advicew of the AA Europe map we decided on some twisty roads with views for today.
Rodez itself was so quiet compared to the outdoor bustle of Montpellier. Was it the weather, the paucity of university students or the lack of any really attractive bars or restaurants?
Setting off at the end of the days ride, the hotel staff were amazed we would walk a couple of miles up to the town centre.

Recalling a trip on the Dommie to Spain we came across acres of sunflowers. This was a thrill for Sae, though I am sure all those years ago you could see the heads align with the sun, or did I dream that?

Riding through quiet country roads flanked by tall fields of sunflowers must rank as one of lifes little treasures.

Sae was determined to take some wonderful photos of sunflowers. Click on this one and somehow it doesnt do it justice. We framed her best shots and they brighten the room, artistically and emotionally.

A great entry to town which led to one of the best nights on the tour - lots of cafe's lots of university students and everyone in the mood for a party tonight, which was just the (somewhat hazy) ticket.

Day 16 Toulon to Montpellier

2010-08-13T00:47:00.000-07:00

Washing done and dried, Buffalo Grill avoided and t'internet consulted we set off refreshed after the 180 miles yesterday.

Limitless graffiti
After 40 miles we came across the graffiti strewn outskirts of Marseille, the second largest French city at just under a million people. Over a million migrants from north Africa have arrived in Marseille since the 1950's. In the past decade its economy has grown significantly, halving the 20% unemployment rate of the 1990's.

At a coffee stop to marvel at France's largest port the polluted brown air and chemical waterways , though interesting, encouraged us to follow the green route on Kev's AA map and head for the flamingoes in the Camargue.Horse riding is the way to see the 'mouths of the Rhone, a wetland of international importance for migrating birds. There are few stopping off points left in Europe for our feathered friends, so this is a favourite spot for twitchers.
The boundaries of the Parque constantly change as the mighty Rhone transports 20 million cubic metres of sediment each year.

To see flamingoes was just amazing - a first for me in Europe, even the large one!

Sadly though as well as a wildlife park it is also the location for continued bull fighting. Three hundred years of bullfighting is now different from the Spanish and Peruvian events in that each fighter has 15 minutes to remove a rosette placed on the head of the bull. The animals are though exported to Spain for more traditional, 'sport'

As the sun set we beat a hasty retreatto a suprisingly wonderful city of Montpellier/
With its old vibrant city contrasting to the fabulous architecture of the new city this is France's fastest growing city. It has an amazing nightlife. Every park and square bustled with life. We treated ourselves to a fine evening meal washed down with a splendid bottle of Cotes Du Rhone Rose.

Day 15 Nice and the Cote D'Azur

2010-08-13T00:46:00.000-07:00

Leaving Nice we passed packed beaches and then it was Cannes.

Some nice cars, but not quite the 7 supercar jam in Monaco.

Sticking to the small coastal roads rather than the highway inland allowed us to soak up the atmospher of the French riviera. after the striking Callian Forest we arrived in St Raphael, just across the bay from St Tropez.
couldnt help feeling the beaches were better and cheaper in Corfu and Phuket.

The grand hotels, amazing automobiles sumptuous stores and fashionistas mingled with tourists escaping Paris and Marseille. But the grid locked traffic and crowded beaches made us feel this might be our only visit to the Riviera.

Tacky beach gifts are the same all round the world
We then hit the highway to escape the traffic.
After the night struggling for accommodation in Nice we booked ahead at our motel of choice, B+B, in Toulon

Day 14 Pisa to Nice

2010-08-13T00:44:00.001-07:00

Leaving Pisa after climbing the tower, we plumped for a bit of speed and the Italian motorways. There seems to be an assumption among Italian drivers that the braking distance of all vehicles, at all speeds, is about 2 metres, which is disconcerting to say the least. The situation is made worse as car drivers like to share the lane that bikers are in. Hmm. Lots of dents in the central reservation barriers tells its own tale.
18 deaths a day on the Italian roads, is no suprise and neither is this quote;

We drive too fast, we don't respect the safe distance between the cars. We do a lot of things we shouldn't do when we drive

Giuseppe Cesare
Italian Automobile Club
It should be noted that the US, Germany and Austria all have far higher motorway death rates than Italy or the UK, and far far below the Czech republic with 9.9 deaths per billion motorway kms travelled in 2003

On a positive note the motorway service stations have these brightly coloured kennels, the purpose of which escapes us. Why take your dog out of your car then lock it in a metal box in a lay-by?

We decided to call in on some of the towns along the Italian Riviera as we headed for Monaco and Nice. Genova was our target for lunch at the half way point and despite negative press from various friends and hotel workers. With its grand architecture and street layout, together with a very active working harbour and cruise ship passengers everywhere it proved to be a great stopping of point for a few hours. The maritime museum fascinated Sae, and a freashly prepared dock-side pizza we set off to Nice in high spirits.

As we left San Remo and its striking coastal National Park the Riviera bays unfolded before us after each headland. Cap Martin in France then down into Monaco. Another couple of hours people and Lambourghini watching around the Casino was replaced with a desire to ride around the Grand Prix circuit, which we did, give or take some traffic/one-way violations!

Road repairs sent us into what looked like a long lost tunnel rapidly tar-maced into service. The Tiger sounded wonderful in the confines of the rugged tunnel!

The Casino

Sae takes time out from pillion on the circuit used since 1929.
The circuit has been called "an exceptional location of glamour and prestige."

What we hadnt bargained on is that the whole of france has decamped to the south coast. Horrendous traffic jams (for those in cages) took its toll on the clutch cable - quickly resolved.

The three hotels we had in mind were all full, and we ended up sweltering still at 10pm at night, in a Quick restaurant to replenish fluids and come up with an action plan - move inland, hit the Best Western at 165 euros a night (no I dont want it for the month, just tonight s'il vous plait!) when staring at us through the trees was the beach-front, swimming-pooled air-conditioned, Bahai hotel.
Job done

Day 13 Bologna to Pisa

2010-08-13T00:43:00.000-07:00

After a morning sightseeing in the wonderful city of towers we decided Venice in mid-summer would be unbearable and decided instead to head for that Italian icon, Pisa. Although it is only 120 miles we decided to climb up to the Appenines and explore some of the beautiful sunny valleys in the hills.

The roads were great, not too many police and an absence of cameras and traffic. Saturday summer siestas meant that the villages were largely deserted, though sae did manage an hour chatting away with a young Italian-Chinese girl, despite neither of them understanding what the other was actually saying!

We descended from the hills through vinyards and idyllic villages into Tuscany and Liguria

We pulled up in Pisa's main square and rather than pushing on the the coast we decided to make a night of it and grabbed a room at the nearest hotel with a view of the tower from its breakfast balcony. Parking was a nightmare until a local garga owner let me stable the Tiger for the night, gratis. The enthusiastic police were handing out tickets to all the bikes in the square and I made friends with a couple of Italian BMW riders by alerting them to their impending fines and showing them a place of sanctuary nearby!
Sae's first comment was ''It's really leaning'' so it was fun to take pictures at the hundreds of tourists posing with hands outstretched.
We booked a tour (15 euros for the tower) for the first trip the following morning, then soaked up the atmosphere before finding an excellent restaurant and dined fantastically al fresco as we watched the sun go down on the tower. Heaven!
At night as the streetsellers replaced the official merchandise huts the cathederal and tower looked even more enchanting - and far better than when I visited it back in the early 80's as part of an inter-rail European discovery tour. The buildings have been cleaned and look wonderful, if slightly robotic from some angles!

I couldnt resist including this photo, taken against Sae's better judgement to show that she could join in with the coach parties of Japanese and Chinese tourists!

Day 12 From Lake Garda to Bologna

2010-08-10T02:46:00.000-07:00

Day 11 Lake Garda

2010-08-10T02:39:00.000-07:00

We looked at the rain and then at the beautiful town of Garda and decided it was time for a rest day. An excellent hotel with a view of the clouds dancing between the mountains, and BBC news was also a factor.

As three Italians set off on their Ducatis in full wet weather gear we knew we had made the right decision.

A stroll along the lake shore past the hotels and campsites crammed with German and Austrian tourists and we were in the town and up the nearest tower. Always a good start when arriving in a new town. That and checking postcard racks to see what there is to see.

A change of pace was most welcome, seeing life at walking pace, not 80mph, and far fewer hairpin bends.

The shoreline between Brescia and Trento is a typical U shaped glacial valley.

Battles here in the 19th century led to the formation of The Red Cross and the creation of the Geneva convention as Italy was re organised and unified into a single state.
These events could not be further from the wonderful atmosphere in the town's streets cafes pizza restaurants and bars today. Two magnificent evening meals and a general feeling of contentment made leaving difficult, but the weather picked up beautifyully for our departure

DAY 10 TONALE PASS, DOLOMITI, LAKE GARDA

2010-08-10T02:35:00.000-07:00

DAY 9 AUGUST 3RD AUSTRIAN ALPS TO STELVIO PASS

2010-08-07T14:47:00.000-07:00

DAY 7 UBERLINGEN TO FRIEDRICHSHAFEN FESTIVAL

2010-08-07T14:43:00.001-07:00

DAY 6 31ST JULY BLACK FOREST TO LAKE KONSTANZ

2010-08-07T14:42:00.001-07:00

DAY 4 29TH JULY MOSEL VALLEY TO BLACK FOREST

2010-08-07T14:41:00.002-07:00

Day 3 DAY 3 JULY 28TH THIRD WEDDING ANNIVERSARY

2010-08-07T14:41:00.000-07:00

Day 2: Rotterdam - Cologne (Germany)

2010-08-07T14:40:00.000-07:00

DAFFODIL TOUR: Wales One Day--- Apr 10, 2010 (in Japanese)

2010-04-13T04:09:00.000-07:00

Visit>>> Sae & Richard's Wonderful Little World「可憐な時限爆弾」

Sorry in Japanese only. There are lots of photos though!

Corfu on an Aprilla

2009-11-29T12:13:00.001-08:00

August 2009 Collecting a nearly new Aprilla 250cc was a passport to some wonderful exploration around this stunning island.

We managed a day off-road After initial reservations about the tiny wheels and low ground clearance the Aprilla excelled in every role it was requested to fulfill.

Let's off-road!

We rode through the sand for an hour to a ruined church.

The engine was a beauty - very punchy and the automatic gearbox was as smooth as they come

With the two of us and a little luggage it was certainly a better bike when accelerating, had a smoother range up to a higher top speed than the Chinese Yamaha Virago copy we had for 4 years in Peru.

With almost 600 square kms to explore, and over 200kms of beaches, this pearl of the Ionian has everything - cool montain passes, with great roads cliunging to their sides...

...a cliff top Monastary of the Holy Trinity.

Sae enjoyed tasting Greek food for the first time, and for me it brought back memories of the time I was a tour guide on Kos.

Beach side Tsatsiki and humous was a treat to break up the longer rides.

Sand dunes and lakes..

...twisty rural roads, a long straight highway running to the south and everywhere the gorgeous Venetian architecture including the birthplace of (Prince Philip)

The north of Corfu has a range of mountains where you can ride for hours through Olive groves - there are 2 million trees on the island - without seeing another vehicle.

Corfu Town has its imposing castle, picture postcard island chapels and wonderful museums and art galleries. It has Parisian style cafe's an English cricket pitch at it's heart and an atmosphere you can spend days soaking up.

In the south the fertile plains are crowded with tourist coaches, quintessential English tourists coralled into their clearly delimited resorts, a smattering of German bikers and the chaos of Italian teens on underpowered (or Ouzo powered) 50cc hairdryers.

Oh and shopping bags from Lidl - I mean where else would you shop?

On the eastern coast a favourite resort for Italians - the life blood of the island. Though we did meet a great Swiss biker who waxed lyrical about Honda NX 650's and Aprilla's

A thirsty Charlton duck. Typically for Charlton's performance over the past few seasons, this rubber duck doesnt even float!

Sae and the Aprilla by the ferry to Albania. We would love to bring the Dominator here next summer - with the Oyaji bikers?

Traffic lights on the main road to Corfu Town prevent vehicles getting damaged by planes taking off. It's not advisable to jump these ones!

And so to rainy Luton.

The Dommie was safe in her baggage park, started first time and took us back to normality.

Until the next time!

Classic Motorcycle Scramble

2009-11-29T10:27:00.000-08:00

September 2009

Our friend Alan invited us to a great day out in north Worcestershire.

We took off on the Dominator - which handled as well as it ever has with new fromt and rear tyres - Avons again, though it raised an eyebrow or two as the ones taken off havent been manufactured for 8 years apparantly! Definitely time for a new set!

The new rear wheel bearing and the (third-the only multi-failure item on the bike!) replacement speedo cable just added to the great feeling rolling along lovely twisty A roads - just what the Dommie was made for.

Alan's son Bradley was taking part in the classic bike event near Great Witley. We took a circuitous route so we could take in Bromyard and points along the stunning Teme valley - this really is a beautiful part of the world. The Teme travels east until it meets the Severn just by Powick near Worcester where the decisive battle of the civil war was decided in 1651.

We arrived just in time for the first race of the day. Parking up next to this beautiful Velocette gave a taste for the day. Not since I toured the backyards of remote Pakistani towns have I seen such classic bike collections.

The distictive roar of engines first manufactured as long ago as the 1930's drew us to the arena.

The second race was ready to start. A mark of the atmosphere for this meet was the way one rider would hold his rival's machine upright whist last minute tinkering went on, only for them to fight tooth and nail as soon as the flag dropped.

Ready for race 2. There were a number of great viewpoints so that the riders could be tracked up and down the course.

The riders ranged in age from Bradley at 14 up to a very stylish 72 year old.
Here we see Brad after his second race of the morning.
The races ran non-stop with each one divided either by engine size, country of manufacture or age of machine. After a trip round the very friendly paddock (in the literal as well as motorsport meaning of the word) Sae decided she would be cheering on a pair of 500cc Honda's.

Well you cant take Japan out of the girl! Personally I was just enjoying the sheer artistic and engineering beauty of the BSA's the Matchless and the Triumph, Norton and Triton hybrids.

The riders snake around the steep dirt track.

We are booked in to see The Red Marley Hill Climb at Easter 2010 and hope we will have a gathering of the Oyaji's and some biking guests for this annual event.
As you can see if you click on the link, it is a quarter mile straight climb up a 1 in 1.25 slope in Great Witley, Worcestershire which was first run in the 1920's.
It is for pre 1965 bikes and last year attracted 120 riders to the two day event.
So far the event has raised 36,000 pounds for charity - we hope to see some of you there - and our house in Malvern is just a short ride away if you need a place to stay!

Preparing for Luton - changing the Steering Head bearings. Again!

2009-11-29T10:03:00.000-08:00