The Black Knight

There are two ways from Pushkar to Johdpur. They meet about 20km outside the city, the two roads merging into one. As I was coming down one side, I saw out of the corner of my eye, a rider coming down the other side.

There are many bikes on the road, but there are only a few Enfields. Even fewer with luggage racks on the back. Rarer still is someone wearing proper biking gear with a full faced black helmet. So far I have been the only one.

I was hugely intrigued. Who was this black rider? What was their story? Was it another traveller on a similar tour to me? Had they hired bikes from Rajesh in Delhi? What was their route? Would we get to meet? Would be be competitive or suspicious if we did?

He made the junction slightly before me, and was a few yards ahead. I kept pace for a while, watching him and I could see him checking me out the mirror.

I thought it might be rude to tail him, so I kept my speed down and let him pull away. He was carrying a lot less luggage than me, and his bike looked in top condition. But although he disappeared from view, my curiosity still burned.

I called him the Black Knight, after the powerful warrior who appears in Arthurian Legends, mysterious, unknown, often riding in to take part in jousting tourneys. With his shield device covered and his identity unknown, he could either be the baddy come to do the hero harm, or perhaps a hero in disguise, defeating the favourites, and at the end revealing himself to be the poor but handsome pot boy, or perhaps a beautiful but fierce warrior.

As he slipped further into the distance, I resigned myself to not finding out the answers to any of my questions, and concentrated on finding somewhere to stay.

After a little while, I found a boutique hotel in the Old City. A beautiful and tastefully restored 500 year old Priests House, hidden away in a little warren. It was so perfect I wanted to stay forever.

I had been there no more than ten minutes, when the unmistakable roar of an Enfield echoed down the narrow alleyway leading to the hotel courtyard.

I knew before I saw that it would be the Black Knight, but he was not alone. On the back of his bike, he now had a passenger dressed in a bright Sunflower coloured shirt. I immediately thought of him as the Saffron Knight.

It appeared that I would find out after all about the mysterious riders after all.