Fucking hell. Drove down from Shimla today, I thought Himachel Pradesh was tough riding, but this was something else.
Got to the outskirts of Delhi at 5.30. Lost Dan soon after. Two hours of riding the clutch in traffic thick and fast and dangerous. Without really knowing where I was or how to get to where I needed to be.
It is like a hive of ants driving turbo charged dodgem cars. Except ants all understand rules. So a hive of ants where each ant is out for itself, travelling as quickly as possible. Each ant speaking a different language, or should I say shouting out as loudly as it can. Or perhaps ants deranged by the heat and the noise and the pollution.
Five hours later and my nerves are still jangling. My face feels like it has been sandblasted by grit and fumes. I have aged a dozen years. My eyes are red and raw from the dirt thrown up. My right hand hurts from holding onto the throttle so hard.
My clutch plates were wearing out. I was afraid my gears were going to seize up. I couldn't get neutral, even when stopped, and the engine was getting so hot I thought it might melt.
I eventually got to Tony Bike Centre by hiring a tuktuk and following it. Dan was there, had arrived literally moments before me. Goodness knows how he got there, without even the address of where it was, let alone a map.
But we did it. We got to Delhi, got the bikes back. Found a nearby hotel, with nice air-conditioning, crisp sheets and room service.
We are meeting Rajesh tomorrow morning at 10. to discuss the bikes. To hand Dan his deposit back, and to sort out what I am driving for the next month. I am not really looking forward to it.
And I will have to say goodbye to Dan which I am looking forward to even less.
Sometimes you win battles, overcome challenges, do what you set out to do, and the reward is not what you hoped for.
Right now, driving a bike in India seems like this.
No comments:
Post a Comment