April’s fool, eh? One of the first things I noticed was that my SIM card was barred again. So I spent a few hours in Vadodara city trying to get a new one. But all the shops as well as an official Airtel shop said ‘nope, you can’t get a card unless you got a permanent address in India (and some kind of proof for that)’. A hotel bill was not sufficient (unlike earlier in Mumbai and Silvassa). At least I got a map of Gujarat that is a bit more accurate than the one I already had. All in all a short, unspectacular, and more or less unsuccessful day.

Vadodara

Amazing how quickly plans can change.

I’ve been planning to go to Vadodara and then changed my mind again a couple of times and for different reasons over the past weeks. Until this morning, the latest plan was not to go. Instead, I wanted to stay in Karjan, a few kilometers south at the NH8, and then cycle eastish around Vadodara tomorrow.

This morning I left without breakfast; none available at the hotel. Got some at a hotel/guesthouse/restaurant a few kilometers down the road.

After about 12km I paid too much attention to some funny noise the bike seemed to make, and did not look at the road for a few meters. Hit one of these red and white cones with my coles bags and ripped them apart. My dear, beloved coles bags. They accompanied me for 3000+ km from Perth to Adelaide and beyond. And now that.

So, plans changed again and I was now hitching a ride to Vadodara. Two guys in a mini truck stopped and picked me up. Started chatting in a mix of Hindi (not exactly my strength) and English (not exactly their strength) which was quite fun. Nice dudes, a textile wholesaler, Rajesh, and his employee (who’s name I forgot, unfortunately). They were on their way to Rajastan and said they’d drop me off at Vadodara. Eventually they asked if I wanted to join them to go further up north to Rajastan and – plans changed again – I said yes. They were from Udaipur, and for some reason I assumed they’re going there. Well, we made it beyond Ahmedabad to a little town called Chandrala. Here they told me they’d just be picking up some bags of saris and other items of clothing, and would then go back down south, past Vadodara and Surat (sound familiar?), to Vapi, not far from Mumbai. I wasn’t so keen on staying in this place with little hope on finding new coles bags. So I helped them load the stuff, and off we went.

Here I am now, in Vadodara. My two new friends went out of their way to find me hotel and made sure I was happy with it.

What a great day.

Broken bags

Broken bags

New friends

Choosing which bags to take along

Bike's hitchin'

What a day. Had no sleep last night because my sleep cycle was out of order once again. Left around 9.30am anyway. When checking out, the manager asked for a ‘coin from your country’, found him a spare Euro in my backpack. After 20km of cycling I was so done that I’d have loved to stay somewhere. Instead I started nibbling on some dry noodles. Awesome. After 4 more kilometers I stopped at a restaurant (more on that below) and had the worst lunch I’ve had in India so far. But it was food and that helped me get back on track.

Reached Ankleshwara and had some teas and amazing lassis in the poshest hotel (more on that below) I’ve seen here so far. I decided to go another 9 or so kilometers to Bharuch. At some point two guys on a motorcycled slowed down next to me and started asking the usual questions, where from, where to, etc. Instead of naming some random city I said I’d be going to the next hotel. One of the guys said the next one would be 15km away. I got a bit worried about me actually managing to cycle that far and accidentally let out the F word. He seemed to have some pity with me and offered 10km. That sounded better and I wondered if I could get him down to 5 if I haggeled hard enough. Not 5 minutes after they’d left another motorcycle pulled over. Same questions, same answers. Only this time I got him down to 3km. It were actually 4 in the end, but I’m not mad at him for that little offset.

Got a room, took an autorickshaw to the city center of Bharuch. Found the contact lenses stuff I needed and chatted a bit with the guys in that optician studio shop thingie. Ended up buying myself new glasses, too. 24 Europe-bucks for a flexible frame and proper lenses, all done within roughly 1 hour. Hard to say no.

On hotels and hotels, and guesthouses and guesthouses. So far I got along quite well with the fact that hotels are not always hotels. Over here, a hotel can be either a hotel (rooms and all that) or a restaurant. It’s the same in Madagascar, by the way, and more than once did I find myself asking for a room in a restaurant. Now, so far the add-on ‘guesthouse’ was a pretty good indicator that this was actually a hotel in the ‘western’ sense of the word (please correct me if this kind of confusion happens elsewhere, too). Not anymore. A ‘hotel & guesthouse’ may also just be a restaurant.

Indian extremes

Well, I’m still staying in Kamrej. I’ve been working on a project for a customer during the past month, which is why it was pretty silent on the travel front.

I wanted to go to Surat today to get some supplies – most importantly, cleaning stuff for my contact lenses. As you may know, my glasses rest in the Pacific Ocean, somewhere between New Caledonia and Ile Surprise. Ironically, the hotel I’m staying at is called Pacific Inn. Anyway, I asked at reception how much I should expect to pay for an auto rickshaw to Surat, and they offered to organize one for me for a reasonable price.

The driver, Mahesh, is a brother of one of the waiters and a nice guy. He showed me around Surat and helped with the shopping. Unfortunately, cleaning fluids for hard contact lenses were nowhere to be found. I’m kinda back to square one in that regard.

On the road to Surat I saw camels dozing in the shade of trees and camel carts. The city itself is full of textile factories. For some reason I find it amazing to look into open doors and windows and see (big, industrial) looms en masse. We also tried to find some of the local sights. Surat has a mini Eiffel tower and we found it. However, the Old Fort, widely advertised on the web, was unknown even to the locals. I couldn’t suppress a big smile when Mahesh suggested I should use my phone to look for the Fort’s address online (did that, but to no avail, by the way).

More than once now have I thought that it would be uber-cool to travel (India or elsewhere) with an auto rickshaw. I thought about hiring Mahesh for a longer period, a few days maybe, but there wouldn’t be enough space in the vehicle for two people and luggage. And my bike wouldn’t want to be left behind, either. Well, one day I’ll do that!

I found out how the place is called. It is actually a suburb of Surat called Kamrej, or Kamrej Junction to be exact. Still a couple of kilometers to Khulwar. :(

Had a couple of power outages today. Of course, with phone and laptop being battery powered, I can still use them. However, without electricity, it is too dark in the room to see the keyboard. Oh, the irony.

Went to the restaurant (which has bigger/proper windows). Talked with one of the managers. He used to work for UNICEF a couple of years ago and was in Bhuj back in 2001 after the region was struck by an earthquake. Bhuj is one of the places I want to go to. He said that for safety reasons, I should avoid cycling at night when I’m past (i.e. west of) Vadodara. Traveling during the day should be fine, though. He also told me about an archaeological excavation site, Dholavira, where the remains of a city of the Indus Valley Civilization have been found. It is located on an island in the Rann of Kachchh. Cycling the Rann is supposedly safe, too.

Had some nutrition problems (not food poisoning) yesterday and today, so decided to stay in Khulwar another day or possibly more. In a different hotel, of course.

Had a biiig breakfast – well, untoasted toast (some call it ‘bread’) with cheese and jam, and a whole melon. The ride on NH 8 was unspectacular. The truck carries a part of a wind turbine.

Swastika

Nope, this is not a ‘Hakenkreuz’, it’s a Swastika and has a completely different meaning here – wealth and good fortune. Interesting – for me as a German – to see it in wide use. On the right side of the truck is the sanskrit Aum (Om) sign, a sacred syllable in Hinduism and other religions.

Stopped in Khulwar (according to the map it could be Khulwar, but I haven’t seen any proof yet) and asked a police dude if there was a hotel in town. He gave me some rough directions and then offered to share his food with me.

Fought my way through another massive traffic jam, only to find the hotel of choice to be booked out. Ended up in a simpler guest house. The second one where I’m not allowed to take the bike into the room. Soon after my arrival, another police officer knocked on the door and demanded to check my passport and visa, and asked all kinds of silly questions. I think he was just curious and wanted to (ab)use his authority. When I left for dinner, I instinctively took all my money and the passport with me, and put a shoe as close as possible to the inside of the door before closing it. When I came back, the shoe lay at the wall. Somebody had entered the room while I was away. The receptionist (a school boy) denied everything, and I’m not missing anything so far.

Slum at the road side

Cows on the highway

Some roadside town

Swastika

The original plan was to cycle to Vapi, and then go more or less parallel to National Highway 8 on smaller roads to the north. Well, in Vapi I decided to try the highway. I expected that to be a bit faster, and I can see loads of villages once I’m past Vadodara and on the Kathiawar peninsula. So I rode to Chikhli where I’m going to stay for the night.

Chikhli is a nice little town with friendly people. Pretty much everything is written in Gujarati here (I’m in the state of Gujarat now, after all), but people speak Hindi, too. The script Gujarati uses seems to be somewhat related to Devanagari (the script that is used for Hindi), so I can read (not understand) it to some degree. –Even on TV there’s not a single English-speaking channel.– High time I upgrade my Hindi.

The hotel here is the first one in India where I was not allowed to take the bike into the room. It’s now downstairs in the hall, though, next to the hotel guard.

Cow shit

Encouraging

Chikhli

Chikhli street market

Quiet back street, Chikhli

After about 4 hours of sleep I started dreaming of some nerve-wrecking noise coming from the floor above. I went upstairs to find a kid hopping through the room on a chair. Then I woke up – but the noise didn’t disappear. Turned out they were doing some construction work on the roof. After two phone calls to reception (yeah, it’s a poshy hotel) the noise stopped.

Went to the Tribal Museum after lunch. It displays various items from the tribes that live in the Union Territory of Dadra and Nagar Haveli, of which Silvassa is the capital.

Went for a last stroll around the city. Going to leave tomorrow.

The construction work on the roof had gone on for a couple of days already, but in a different part of the building and it never bothered me much. I’d frequently seen people in the hotel who looked like they were those doing the work. Today I sneaked up there to see what they were building or fixing. I didn’t find out exactly, but I found these people. They live there, next to … no, at their work place.

In the Tribal Museaum, Silvassa

Near the hospital

Market on the street

Street scene

Holy cow

I finally got around to visiting the lions. I was the only visitor at the time, and, judging from the amount of change the cashier had, I was the first one today.

I was a bit disappointed, as I only got to see a single lioness. And she was just lazily dozing in the shade of a tree. I have no clue where the others were, or even if there actually are others. The driver insisted there’s only this one.

The lion(s?) is an Asiatic Lion. They are native to Southwest Asia and once were even found in the Balkans. There are only about 250-350 individuals left in the wild, living in Gir Forest National Park further northwestish in Gujarat on the Kathiawar peninsula.

Asiatic Lioness

SSH is now working on the phone! That means I can blog from the phone!

Back in Mumbai I chose to buy an Airtel SIM card for my phone. Buying a SIM card involves handing over your passport to the dealer, who will then make a ‘xerox’, as well as an extra passport-sized photo and proof of some local address. The latter could be a hotel invoice, of which a ‘xerox’ would be made, too. An application form needs to be filled in and all the paperwork then must be sent to the network provider. Apparently this procedure is required by the government, so there’s no way around it.

Now, yesterday I received a message from Airtel, saying they would discontinue service for me because the paperwork hadn’t been sent to them. Today I can’t make any phone calls anymore, nor send SMSs. Great. GPRS still works, though. I have no idea how to contact the store I bought the SIM card at in the first place. I guess I have to buy a new one here and hope these guys are more honest.

Two relaxed days in Silvassa. The original plan was to leave today, but last night I read about a lion sanctuary not far from here (actually I must have driven past it when I arrived in Silvassa 2 days ago). I wasn’t even aware that there were lions in India! Have to see them!

Another problem: I’m running out of batteries for the camera. Bought a pair yesterday and could take exactly 1 picture before they were flat. Again something I know from Madagascar. One option is to get the bike charger fixed, either doing it myself or have someone do it. Meanwhile I bought an AA charger, with Europlug so I can use it at home, too.

Will have to stay another night here until the first set of batteries is charged.

Slum-like dwelling, Silvassa

Had breakfast/lunch and left Jawhar around 12:30pm. The road now certainly was one of the narrower variety. Asked an older fellow on a motorbike for directions and he offered to show me a shortcut through his village. Dunno if it really was shorter, but seeing his village and riding the even smaller, even less travelled road was worth it.

Passed by a quarry, or so it seemed. Working there were old women and children. A girl crossed the street in front of me, maybe 8 or 10 or 12 years old, walking to the stone pit, staring at me. I’ve seen the same shit in Madagascar. Those people lived next to their ‘workplace’ in tents. Turned my stomach upside down. Asked myself what the f*ck am I doing here? Cycling through their land and life, watching them working and staring. F*cking sh*t.

Made it to Silvassa and decided to call it a day. Found an ATM to stock up on cash. Inside the ATM area was an old dude, the guard, who wanted to help me, even though there was no need. Anyway, he didn’t leave and watched me pull out 15.000 Rupees. Quite a pile if the biggest note is 500 Rs. Poor fella couldn’t get his eyes off the money. I tried to behave as if that amount could feed me for a life-time, too, but I don’t think it worked nor that he cared.

Check in at hotels is ridiculous. Not only do folks write down all sorts of personal details in huge registers, some of them even make a ‘xerox’ of my passport, and once I had to pay for the copy.

The guy that wanted my phone number a couple of days ago in Anjur Phata called when I was having dinner to check how I was doing. Funny.

Dude leading the way to his village

Having a relaxed day in Jawhar. Managed to get my laptop online through the phone. Can now update the blog wherever I am, given network coverage. The ultimate goal, though, is to blog directly from the phone.

Most people here (that is, in India in general) are way shorter than me (well, that’s not too unusual) and extremely skinny.

Electricity appears to be precious. The room I’m staying in has two circuits, one connecting the fan and a light bulb (one of the newer, energy saving ones) to the mains, and one connecting the TV and another light. They can be switched on and off separately, and as soon as I come back into the hotel, the guy at reception switches the fan circuit on. The TV stays off during the day, it seems.

There are two brands that seem to be ubiquitous world-wide: Coca-Cola-botteled soft-drinks and Colgate toothpaste. I’ve seen both in the remotest places in Madagascar and New Caledonia as well as in tiny villages here in India. Convenient, sure. But also a bit scary.