There seems to be an extra boost from a hotel breakfast. Probably because
you don’t make it yourself and it has different ingredients. But you are in a
room with strangers. The Holiday Inn proposed a huge selection. I could merely
manage exotic fruit and spicy omelette, with a few side forays dipping into
pastries and jams. And tea, lots of tea.
The service was always attentive sometimes highly attentive. I wanted to seem polite and ask the waiter about the food, but after doing the same last night you knew it would involve the chef coming out and long involved conversations, which is not what breakfast is about. So for once, and briefly, I remained silent. Of course Michael was not allowed to eat in peace.
We left the air conditioned cleanliness of the Holiday Inn for the air conditioned airport, with two steps in the monsoon as we got into the courtesy car.
Two chaps rescued us from a lengthy queue at Economy check in. They’d tagged Michael for a superior type of traveller and guided us to the unsignposted and discrete Executive desk. I hung on to Michaels coattails as usual to snag an Executive class ticket. The chaps then fussed us through baggage control where I lost a lighter to the ever vigilant and ever present army.
One challenge for us in India is having enough small denomination notes for tips. A quick detour to a Boots the Chemist lookalike solved that with a couple of bottles of water plus some chewing gum to relieve the ever present onion coating on the tongue. This one from the masala omelette at breakfast.
The chaps left us happily with the equivalent of two days wages for a labourer in the poorer parts of the country. We then proceeded to give all our bank details to a machine that did not give us cash. We could only hope it was because the machine was a real one, without cash rather than an elaborate scam. Only time would tell. There were no appropriate error messages. Just a lack of cash.
The executive class boarding passes got us economy class seats near the front of the
plane. More than I deserved but a lot less than the premium Michael had paid for. The business class looking seats at the front were apparently first class., which is unusual for a commuter jet
Michael declined the plastic sandwich and carton of mango juice, but I'm hardwired to eat when it’s available and not leave food on the plate. The sandwich was only half eaten. Breakfast had been good, this wasn’t. Italy does raise your food standards.
The plane was delayed for take-off and landing. Take off because a couple of flights queue jumped, as you do in an airport, and landing because the monsoon had limited the pilots’ visibility.
But we got to Chandigarh and phoned Alex who had not replied to the text about who was picking us up. His phone was out of order.
So we waited till our ‘priority’ bags were close to last off the carousel and found Lovely waiting for us in the main hall. How he does it I have no idea.
Lovely is the COO and Mr Fix-it of Nomadic Knights. He seems to handle logistics and HR, herding bikers and kits to where they’re supposed to be, as well as organising the ‘crew’, our support team.
You can only get into an airport with a ticket and ID and lots of head shaking and stamps.
Lovely is also lovely. And he was there in the arrivals terminal. We greeted him like a friend of long standing and followed him through the fresh puddles to cross to the parking lot.
On the far side of the road were a hundred signs greeting passengers were on the far side of the road. They were obviously not Lovely, who settled us at the mini bus. There we met Paul who had been vagabonding at the airport since 7 that morning, so 4 1/2 hours of sleeping on concrete with his bags for pillows. But seemed remarkably cheery for it.
Paul had a cup of tea which we thought was coffee so we set off for the coffee shop. Michael hadn’t made the necessary stop before a long journey but wasn't allowed back into the airport at all as he didn’t have a boarding card. He can’t be Lovely then.
The coffee shop lady seemed to completely reprogramme the cash till to take the order of one black coffee and one white coffee. We got two cappucinos.
Lovely gathered the other riders from the airport, probably breezing past Michael on the way in.
Keith and Martin were shagged and quiet after a long journey. Andy was more cheery. Paul and Andy were easy to get on with. A lot of boys talk to establish they were good bikers and Paul had been on a Nomadic Knights trip to Rajasthan. Andy was an experienced biker who hadn’t been to India. There were lots of comments and getting to know each other banter on the way.
We left Chandigarh and its huge freshly painted poster adverts. Lovely negotiated the police shakedown, getting our co-driver, Pawanji, to proffer some rupees and just not stopping in the slow moving chaotic traffic.
The drive to Narkanda was long.
It was probably even longer for Paul who had to suffer my seat continually reclining of its own accord, but he didn't seem to worry about it.
We saw villages on steep hillsides, monkeys, guys riding in top of trucks and a pillion holding a plastic sheet above his head like a celebrating revolutionary or victorious football supporter. But this was to protect himself and the bike rider from the rain. We saw some English Wine and Beer Shops, which we guessed didn't do what it said on the label and a Loreto Convent which Michael and I found funny. We live very close to Loreto in Italy which is a very important holy site for Roman Catholics, though almost unknown to the rest of the world.
It is home to the Virgin Mary’s house, which may seem unusual being in Italy,
but there is a long and convoluted story behind its miraculous transportation
by angels to Le Marche sometime at the end of one of the crusades.
We saw the chaotic driving and rubbish beside the road, the crumbling edges and the precipitous thousand foot drops, the ever present railway snaking and winding an impossible route from Chandigarh to Shimla. Twisting around and through the steep, steep sides of the Himalayas.
And here we are at Narkanda, a mere 2700 metres up, 7 hours and 7000 gear
changes later.
In the clouds after a scrumptious Indian dinner with a couple of beers and a couple of drams, the gel earplugs are in while writing these notes, so I can't even hear myself fart, let alone Michael’s moonlight sonatas.
After a stop at the Indian McDonalds (no beefburgers), but a slow introduction for us guests and a chai stop near Shimla we gratefully bumped down the rocky drive to Tethys Ski Resort in Narkanda.
More greetings of old friends, Alex the fearless leader of Nomadic Knights, with big smiles and manly hugs and his wonderful wife Vidyha, whose smile just brightens the heart. Abhi was his usual serene self. Abhi sweeps up the laggards and the wayward. The shepherd, he gives you confidence knowing that he’s there when your bike breaks down, or you don’t know the way, or you just want to rest.
We also met the other members of our support team, in addition to the amazing Lovely and our co-pilot for the drive, Pawanji, there was Doc, who loves taking time from his full time job as a highly qualified doctor to hang around with crazy guys biking the Himalayas. We also met our magic mechanic, Ashraf, who could strip, recondition and reassemble an Enfield in the dark, with his eyes closed, in a clean business suit.
They had just finished a hard two week trip with lots of challenges, but with very experienced riders. We felt a bit like the B Team as we would do a lot less miles but hopefully we'd get to enjoy more of the mountains. So we jossed and smiled and lugged our stuff to the new section of the hotel.
Our rooms were still being finished but were spacious and comfortable. We got a hot shower despite the tap being in a precarious position for guys over 6ft tall, unless you turned sideways. But the shower made everything good and there was a kettle in the room for well-earned tea.
Over supper and a campfire we heard of water crossings and wet, landslides and brake control. Of 17 hour days and being ready to sleep rough. There was a lot of talk of blood, sweat and toil, but luckily no tears.
Maybe in my sleep I’ll ponder the life philosophies imparted as the evening went on. But in the end we are here because we want to experience life in its fullest and funnest.
However the build up for the riding is that it is going to be a challenge.
So I’m looking forward to seeing if the last few months riding have improved my abilities enough to be able to enjoy this to the full.
The service was always attentive sometimes highly attentive. I wanted to seem polite and ask the waiter about the food, but after doing the same last night you knew it would involve the chef coming out and long involved conversations, which is not what breakfast is about. So for once, and briefly, I remained silent. Of course Michael was not allowed to eat in peace.
We left the air conditioned cleanliness of the Holiday Inn for the air conditioned airport, with two steps in the monsoon as we got into the courtesy car.
Two chaps rescued us from a lengthy queue at Economy check in. They’d tagged Michael for a superior type of traveller and guided us to the unsignposted and discrete Executive desk. I hung on to Michaels coattails as usual to snag an Executive class ticket. The chaps then fussed us through baggage control where I lost a lighter to the ever vigilant and ever present army.
One challenge for us in India is having enough small denomination notes for tips. A quick detour to a Boots the Chemist lookalike solved that with a couple of bottles of water plus some chewing gum to relieve the ever present onion coating on the tongue. This one from the masala omelette at breakfast.
The chaps left us happily with the equivalent of two days wages for a labourer in the poorer parts of the country. We then proceeded to give all our bank details to a machine that did not give us cash. We could only hope it was because the machine was a real one, without cash rather than an elaborate scam. Only time would tell. There were no appropriate error messages. Just a lack of cash.
The executive class boarding passes got us economy class seats near the front of the
plane. More than I deserved but a lot less than the premium Michael had paid for. The business class looking seats at the front were apparently first class., which is unusual for a commuter jet
Michael declined the plastic sandwich and carton of mango juice, but I'm hardwired to eat when it’s available and not leave food on the plate. The sandwich was only half eaten. Breakfast had been good, this wasn’t. Italy does raise your food standards.
The plane was delayed for take-off and landing. Take off because a couple of flights queue jumped, as you do in an airport, and landing because the monsoon had limited the pilots’ visibility.
But we got to Chandigarh and phoned Alex who had not replied to the text about who was picking us up. His phone was out of order.
So we waited till our ‘priority’ bags were close to last off the carousel and found Lovely waiting for us in the main hall. How he does it I have no idea.
Lovely is the COO and Mr Fix-it of Nomadic Knights. He seems to handle logistics and HR, herding bikers and kits to where they’re supposed to be, as well as organising the ‘crew’, our support team.
You can only get into an airport with a ticket and ID and lots of head shaking and stamps.
Lovely is also lovely. And he was there in the arrivals terminal. We greeted him like a friend of long standing and followed him through the fresh puddles to cross to the parking lot.
On the far side of the road were a hundred signs greeting passengers were on the far side of the road. They were obviously not Lovely, who settled us at the mini bus. There we met Paul who had been vagabonding at the airport since 7 that morning, so 4 1/2 hours of sleeping on concrete with his bags for pillows. But seemed remarkably cheery for it.
Paul had a cup of tea which we thought was coffee so we set off for the coffee shop. Michael hadn’t made the necessary stop before a long journey but wasn't allowed back into the airport at all as he didn’t have a boarding card. He can’t be Lovely then.
The coffee shop lady seemed to completely reprogramme the cash till to take the order of one black coffee and one white coffee. We got two cappucinos.
Lovely gathered the other riders from the airport, probably breezing past Michael on the way in.
Keith and Martin were shagged and quiet after a long journey. Andy was more cheery. Paul and Andy were easy to get on with. A lot of boys talk to establish they were good bikers and Paul had been on a Nomadic Knights trip to Rajasthan. Andy was an experienced biker who hadn’t been to India. There were lots of comments and getting to know each other banter on the way.
We left Chandigarh and its huge freshly painted poster adverts. Lovely negotiated the police shakedown, getting our co-driver, Pawanji, to proffer some rupees and just not stopping in the slow moving chaotic traffic.
The drive to Narkanda was long.
We saw villages on steep hillsides, monkeys, guys riding in top of trucks and a pillion holding a plastic sheet above his head like a celebrating revolutionary or victorious football supporter. But this was to protect himself and the bike rider from the rain. We saw some English Wine and Beer Shops, which we guessed didn't do what it said on the label and a Loreto Convent which Michael and I found funny. We live very close to Loreto in Italy which is a very important holy site for Roman Catholics, though almost unknown to the rest of the world.
It is home to the Virgin Mary’s house, which may seem unusual being in Italy,
but there is a long and convoluted story behind its miraculous transportation
by angels to Le Marche sometime at the end of one of the crusades.We saw the chaotic driving and rubbish beside the road, the crumbling edges and the precipitous thousand foot drops, the ever present railway snaking and winding an impossible route from Chandigarh to Shimla. Twisting around and through the steep, steep sides of the Himalayas.
And here we are at Narkanda, a mere 2700 metres up, 7 hours and 7000 gear
changes later.In the clouds after a scrumptious Indian dinner with a couple of beers and a couple of drams, the gel earplugs are in while writing these notes, so I can't even hear myself fart, let alone Michael’s moonlight sonatas.
After a stop at the Indian McDonalds (no beefburgers), but a slow introduction for us guests and a chai stop near Shimla we gratefully bumped down the rocky drive to Tethys Ski Resort in Narkanda.
More greetings of old friends, Alex the fearless leader of Nomadic Knights, with big smiles and manly hugs and his wonderful wife Vidyha, whose smile just brightens the heart. Abhi was his usual serene self. Abhi sweeps up the laggards and the wayward. The shepherd, he gives you confidence knowing that he’s there when your bike breaks down, or you don’t know the way, or you just want to rest.
We also met the other members of our support team, in addition to the amazing Lovely and our co-pilot for the drive, Pawanji, there was Doc, who loves taking time from his full time job as a highly qualified doctor to hang around with crazy guys biking the Himalayas. We also met our magic mechanic, Ashraf, who could strip, recondition and reassemble an Enfield in the dark, with his eyes closed, in a clean business suit.
They had just finished a hard two week trip with lots of challenges, but with very experienced riders. We felt a bit like the B Team as we would do a lot less miles but hopefully we'd get to enjoy more of the mountains. So we jossed and smiled and lugged our stuff to the new section of the hotel.
Our rooms were still being finished but were spacious and comfortable. We got a hot shower despite the tap being in a precarious position for guys over 6ft tall, unless you turned sideways. But the shower made everything good and there was a kettle in the room for well-earned tea.
Over supper and a campfire we heard of water crossings and wet, landslides and brake control. Of 17 hour days and being ready to sleep rough. There was a lot of talk of blood, sweat and toil, but luckily no tears.
Maybe in my sleep I’ll ponder the life philosophies imparted as the evening went on. But in the end we are here because we want to experience life in its fullest and funnest.
However the build up for the riding is that it is going to be a challenge.
So I’m looking forward to seeing if the last few months riding have improved my abilities enough to be able to enjoy this to the full.
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