वादा (Wada) – जव्हार (Jawhar)

Tried to organise some breakfast but the restaurant was still closed. Managed to get 2 chai and 2 portions of veg. Pakoda (fried and battered veggie slices). I’ll see tomorrow if eating that was a good idea. Still felt hungry afterwards and had the feeling that I might not make it to Vapi unless I find more food.

Electricity comes from a generator here in the hotel that is switched off during the day.

Started cycling around 10.45am, hungry. Ride was ok. However, soon I realized that Jawhar would be a better target for the day. Traffic was considerably less. After about 24km I arrived in Kudan and bought a cola and biscuits. Turned out that wasn’t a good meal. 2km further I cracked, much to the amusement of the local youth that checked in on me at least every 30 minutes for the following 4 hours.

After some puking I finally managed to hitch a ride to Jawhar on a truck. Sat in the back with my bike and got shaken quite a bit. But it was definitely better than spending more time standing next to the bike puking and waiting for I-don’t-know-what. Vomited a bit from the truck, though, and had to be careful not to hit innocent people on the road. Hilarious.

Jawhar turned out to have more than one hotel. I just grabbed the first one I came across and checked in. A cold shower and a short nap fixed me to some degree. Had a chai and a lemon tea, and went for some food. Will stay here one more night to get loads more food down me and to sort out my future diet.

Ordered veg. Pulao again, but that was a bit too spicy for my already upset stomach. Went for plain rice instead. I didn’t expect the concept of ‘take-away’ food would be known here, but to my surprise the waiter offered a ‘parcel’ for the Pulao. Et voila, they even put it into an aluminium box you would expect to find in a ‘pro’ take-away shop.

Did I mention that I always had mobile reception and GPRS, even though the places here feel quite remote?

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Anjur Phata – वादा (Wada)

For breakfast, I went to the same place I had dinner at yesterday. Was joined by a guy who soon started asking questions, too. At the end (after 5 minutes when he had finished his tea), he gave me his phone number and wanted to know mine. He offered me that I could call him whenever I had a problem or needed some info about India.

A hot and dry but successful cycling day followed. Successful because I managed to find my way out of chaotic Bhiwandi, as well as find a hotel in Wada. The ride through dry and inhospitable looking land was painless if a little exhausting. It seems the Australian sun creme doesn’t cope too well with the Indian sun.

Everyone passing by looks curiously at me. Every now and then someone on their motorbike would slow down next to me and start asking questions: Where are you going? Why? Why are you cycling? One of these guys apparently had a break after talking to me and passed by again a bit later, exactly at the time when I had a break myself. He stopped and asked concerned: What happened? I had to convince him that I just wanted to drink some water.

Then there was the odd shout: ‘nice body’ or ‘handsome’, from boys! I might have misunderstood them, though (but I doubt it). I don’t think they were gay (homosexuality is illegal in India). I saw quite some guys walking the street holding hands or one having an arm over the other’s shoulder. Again, I don’t think they were gay. I guess it is just a sign of friendship.

According to the map there should have been some mountains on the way to Wada, but fortunately it was at most hilly terrain and it would have been an easy ride at milder temperatures.

One thing I learned today: when you’re lost or need an english speaker for some other reason, just stop near some people and look confused. Folks will gather around you and eventually someone with a fairly good command of the English language will come forward and ask how they can help. If that doesn’t work, the next best thing is to look for someone who looks important. Police dudes are a good bet for directions, but business people are good, too. Asking a random guy usually doesn’t yield any results.

First bucket shower today. Important lesson learned: be done ‘showering’ before the bucket is empty. Quite a few times I was standing in front of the bucket shower in Madagascar, but never really figured out how that was supposed to work. Only after leaving Madagascar I read about it. Easy enough now, even for me.

After the shower I had some food (veg. Pulao) and a chai, and then went for a stroll around the town of Wada. Only walked along the main road, but was the main attraction nonetheless. Need to explore smaller streets as well next time. I noticed that there were much more silk-wrapped chocolates (read: girls, thanks Seonie) out and about than in Mumbai. Quite a pleasant sight in their saris (traditional dresses).

When eating in a restaurant, the waiter fills my plate with the first portion, and even insists in doing so, and will also re-fill the plate as soon as it is empty. For some reason they don’t seem to do that for the other guests. First I thought that was just something they did in the somewhat posh hotel in Mumbai. But it happened in every place so far. Needs a bit of getting used to.

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Mumbai (Vile Parle) – Anjur Phata

Hot day again. Put the bike together and started cycling at noon. First around the airport, then eastwards towards Ghatkopar, then to the north to Thane. Around the airport folks live in slum-like conditions. I haven’t seen the ‘real’ slums yet, though, which I saw from the plane when landing.

Traffic was chaotic at best. Everyone seems to drive how they see fit. I haven’t seen any accidents however. Just like in Madagascar, the chaos seems to regulate itself to some degree. I don’t doubt that accidents happen, but they don’t happen as often as one would think. Drivers certainly ‘threaten’ to run you over, but threatening doesn’t work with me and everybody stopped in time. Best recipe for surviving and making some progress: (self-)confident and pro-active riding. Also interesting, people don’t seem to speed, even if the road is empty enough.

Got lost in Thane (my map is crap) and even in hindsight I can’t find the way I rode on the map. After 30km I left the metropolitan area of Mumbai (which, from what I can see, includes Thane).

Outside Thane traffic was ok but got worse again in a suburb of Bhiwandi called Anjur Phata. The amount of bicycles, autorickshas, motorbikes, cars, busses, and trucks that occupied the road was unbelievable. The only way through was a mix of riding off the road, between everybody, and on the other lane (which was as cramped as my own one). Ripped one of my coles bags open when manoeuvering around a truck. Fortunately, a hotel came to the rescue and I happily got off the bike.

Walked around the place at daylight and then again after nightfall. I didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, neither on streets with lighting nor on those without, and all I received were curious looks.

At dinner a guy sat down at my table for a tea and started asking me about my plans, family, job, etc. He had a red mark on the forehead but said he was not married. I thought the red dot on a (woman’s) forehead was a sign that she was married. Apparently women wear the dot for fashion reasons, too. Of course I missed the opportunity to ask the guy why he was wearing it…

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Mumbai, day 3

Have only seen two obvious tourists outside the hotel so far. Haven’t been in richer areas yet, though. Every move attracts curious looks.

Rubbish everywhere. Traffic is chaotic. I’m surprised I haven’t seen any accidents yet. 3-wheeled auto rikshas everywhere, as well as taxis that make you feel like you’re in 1950’s Eastern Europe.

Almost nobody wears shorts. Busses are huge (high) and old, and usually packed. Trains are packed even more.

Hindi everywhere. People’s English is not very good. ‘xerox’ or ‘zerox’ is ‘to (photo)copy’ as well as the actual ‘copy’. 55% of mumbai’s population live in slums. Have seen some from the plane when landing.

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Sydney – Mumbai

Arrived in Mumbai in the early afternoon. Took a cab from the airport to a hotel I’d picked online a couple of days before. Was a prepaid taxi (you pay in the airport and take the receipt to the driver). Should save some time negotiating. Should. The driver then started telling me that what I had paid was only the booking fee. Lol. Then he said he didn’t know the hotel and that it would be impossible to find it given the traffic conditions. Wanted to drop me off elsewhere. Told me the hotel that he didn’t even know would be booked out. Was quite funny to see him try all the obvious tricks. Made him ask for directions and drop me off at the correct hotel. Turned out we’d been driving in circels very close to the hotel all the time. Gave him a little extra for the entertainment, but clearly told him it was a tip.

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Sydney

I spent the past days in Sydney, waiting for my Indian visa application to come through, doing lots of sports (cycling, running, some swimming), some (but really not much) sightseeing. Stayed in a hostel in Coogee Beach.

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Auckland – Sydney

Unspectatcular flight.

Cycled to Coogee Beach for it was recommended by Seonie, and checked into a hostel there.

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Dunedin – Auckland

This morning, Emma showed me the steepest road of New Zealand? The world? Don’t remember. It was pretty steep, though. Then she dropped me of at the airport, I had a flight back to Auckland today.

Back in Auckland I checked into the hostel where I’d stored my bike and some of my luggage 4 weeks ago. Nothing was missing.

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Dunedin – Dipton – Dunedin

We drove down to Emma’s parents. Helped her dad plough a field and he even let me drive the tractor for a short while.

Returned to Dunedin where Emma introduced me to some of her friends and we went partying.

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Queenstown – Dunedin

Left Queenstown in the afternoon to hitch-hike to Dunedin to meet Emma again. Progressed well at first but then got stuck in some town, Alexandra, maybe, until almost nightfall. Eventually I got picked up by some dude heading to Dunedin and he dropped me off almost in front of Emma’s house.

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Maintenance

I haven’t gotten around to writing down all of my experiences and adventures in the countries below. Please check back later or get in touch with me if you are interested in a particular episode.

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Presqu’île Porc-Epic – Ouinné

We continued our hike along the shore. According to our wet maps and the almost illegible guide book we would have to leave the shore at some point and climb up the mountains a bit to reach an old mining track. We would then have to follow that track to the town of Ouinné.

Ouinné is located approximately in the middle between Thio and Yate – the northern and southern ‘end’ of the Côte Oubliée, the Forgotten Coast. It has no road connection to the outside world and the only means to get there are by boat or aircraft – or per pedes. We didn’t know what we would find there or wether Ouinné was inhabited at all.

The shore was quite narrow, with no beach, and the thickly forrested mountains rose almost directly from the sea. Around noon we were faced by a seemingly unsurmountable obstacle. The heavy rains of the past days had created a wild stream that almost fell down from the rocks above. It was so violent that we didn’t dare cross it. We weren’t so far from the place were we’d have to start climbing up, and in fact it might as well have been the very spot. We decided to follow the stream up and the machete we’d been carrying all the way came in quite handy. After a while of fighting through the undergrowth we couldn’t go any further on our side of the stream and had to cross it. We had come so far that by now it was less wide and less violent. We decided to continue climbing in the stream itself.

The forrest left and right dissappeared and made way for smaller bushes and our stream flew over a kind of flat terrace. We saw it come down from an increasingly steep hillside up ahead. On that platform we found a track going parallel with the shore. It wasn’t the one we’d been looking for, but it was on our map nonetheless! So happy!

We followed the track which wound its way further up. We even crossed our stream again which by now wasn’t much more than a trickle.

The track had originally been built for the Ouinné-based mining activities and used to be wide enough for heavy vehicles. Now it had obviously been out of use for quite a while and was in very bad condition in some places. It was either overgrown, covered in rocks, or had simply eroded away. However it was well managable on foot. At least up to a certain spot where a 10m-wide part of the hillside had just slided down and taken the track with it. All that was left was sheer, almost vertical, slippery rock. No way we could cross it.

The track continued on the other side, turned around in a hair-pin bend and we guessed that we could meet it again some 20 m above our current position. So we decided to try and climb up on the hillside. It looked easy enough – not too steep and with enough opportunities to hold on to.

We started climbing – Emma with the smaller backpack, and myself with the bigger one on the back and the drybag strapped to the chest. We soon realized that we had entirely misjudged the difficulty and danger of the climb. The underground consisted of a mix of rocks and earth, became steeper with every meter we gained in altitude, and was wet, muddy, and slippery on top of all that.

Halfway through we both got stuck, seemingly with no reliable rocks within reach to step onto or hold on to. After a nerve-wrecking while Emma managed to find something for the next steps and first reached a crippled pine tree clinging to the slope, and shortly thereafter set foot on the track above. I was still stuck, mostly due to the drybag being trapped between me and some rocks. I had Emma take a thin rope from her backpack and almost had to force her to climb down to the pine tree again from where she lowered one end of the rope down to me. Somehow, I don’t know how exactly, I managed to free the drybag from under me and attach it to the rope. Alternately pulling and pushing myself up and helping Emma pull the drybag I finally reached the pine tree and then the track.

In hindsight I can safely say: that climb on that slope was the most dangerous and stupid thing I have ever done (to date) and those 30 minutes (or however long it took us) could have easily ended differently.

After a short break Emma pushed forward, desparately wanting to reach Ouinné before nightfall. We followed the track and finally reached the pass from where we could see Ouinné in the distance, then ziggzagged down the hill on the eroded track. It even must have been asphalted years ago, as we found a thin layer of tarmack in some places. Down on the plain we had to cross another violent stream before we emerged on Ouinné’s airstrip.

We reached the town with last light and found it inhabited. We asked the first person we came across for the boss of the place. We found him and without much ado he gave us a ‘studio’ – a kitchenless one-room appartment – for the night. Our neighbours shared their bread and coke with us.

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Petite Borindi – Presqu’île Porc-Epic

Our first obstacle for the day was getting up at 4am. We had to cross a river right outside Petite Borindi, which could only be done at low tide. We were able to wade through the water which was not much more than knee deep. Somehow I managed to get our maps of the region wet, however.

We continued along the beach and came to another river that needed to be crossed. The estuary was quite narrow but deep and fast-flowing, with high sandy banks left and right. Our only chance was to jump as far as possible into the river from the far edge of ‘our’ bank and hope we’d have swum across before we’d drifted into the open sea.

We were carrying a heavy backpack each and I had a dry back with our valuables strung around my shoulders. I jumped first and Emma followed immediately. We were flushed through the narrow gorge within just a second or two but I managed to put my feet onto reliable ground in somewhat calm water at the outermost corner of the opposite bank. I turned my head and immediately saw that Emma didn’t have as much luck. She was too far away from the bank and the water was too deep there for her to stand on the ground. I turned around and reached for her hand and pulled her towards me. The momentum was enough to get her out of the central current so that she eventually managed to swim towards and climb onto the beach. By pulling her I lost traction and we basically switched positions so that I was now drifting away from the beach. Fortunately, as the river’s waters collided with the ocean’s, the current lost its strength and the river’s bed became shallower. I managed to barely hold my position both walking and swimming against the current in neck-deep water maybe 15 meters from the beach. By moving in a half circle I safely reached the beach.

Beautiful landscape to our right as we continued to the South. Sandy beaches, stony beaches, mangroves, corals. Sometimes we climbed over large rocks, sometimes we swam around cliffs. Lots of fish, sea cucumbers, sea urchins, moray eels, crabs, starfishes.

Another river to cross. This time it consisted of three deep and wide but not too fast-flowing arms so that we could swim through.

Eventually we reached Presqu’île Porc-Epic, the porcupine peninsula, probably named for it’s peculiar shape. Exhausted but somewhat happy we pitched tent/hung hammock and cooked dinner.

Later all hell broke loose, with heavy storm and rainfall. Had a shower under a palm tree. The leaves funnel the water in a convenient way.

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Nouméa – Thio – Petite Borindi

In the morning Emma and I took a bus from Nouméa to Thio on the East coast of New Caledonia. Then we hitched rides down south until we reached the end of the coastal road. From here a friendly local offered an (expensive) ride in his little motorboat to Petite Borindi. He took the boat quite far away from the beach, probably to avoid reefs and associated waves, which scared Emma a bit. It didn’t get better when the boat suddenly stopped dead – we’d run out of fuel! There were no oars on board so the brave captain stood in the front of the boat and rowed with a long stake! We helped with whatever we could find that seemed useable (which wasn’t much).

Eventually a guy saw us from the beach and came over with his boat. He passed over is tank to our guy who took some fuel out, and we were transferred to the other guy’s boat. Petite Borindi was already in sight when this second boat stopped, too. Fortunately he’d only forgotten to properly reattach the fuel pipe.

It was quite late in the afternoon already and we decided to stay. Emma pitched the tent she’d borrowed from Jean, and I hung my hammock between palm trees.

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Around the Bay in a Day

Each year Bicycle Victoria, a non-profit organization promoting cycling, organizes the Around the Bay in a Day mass ride around Port Phillip Bay. This year more than 15.000 riders joined the fun. Apart from individuals, many companies and universities participate with teams and Martin, working for Monash University, urged me to join the Monash team. I finally agreed and decided to attempt the 210km distance in anti-clockwise direction (ferry from Queenscliff to Sorrento).

It’s been a month since I last cycled fully loaded, but I’d done some training rides mostly on Saturday and Sunday mornings along the bay in the past weeks. Many locals use the early hours for training rides, too, and it was great fun to be able to keep up with their expensive road bikes despite my using my heavy-duty touring mountain bike with unchanged tires.

The actual ride today was awesome. There were some 5.000 riders who went in the same direction as me. I finished after pretty much exactly 7 hours of net riding time and an average speed of 30 kph!

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