It feels like I have been saying goodbyes since Kathmandu. As the trip wound down, every day bought me another farewell and closer to coming home. Saying goodbye to other trekkers on the Everest Trip, then to Indra, then Mark, then the interminable waiting in Gorakpur, just wishing to be home, and then taking Ambliss back to the Angel Factory.
The next day I returned to wrap up with the paperwork with Rajesh. As usual he was late, and then kept me waiting in the office.
'So you have any problems?' he asked expectantly when he finally returned. I was pretty sure he had just had a briefing from an engineer about Ambliss, had picked up some problems and wanted to see what I would say.
'A few, but no real big ones. On the first day the gear lever fell off, the tyre blew and the fuel tap was put in the wrong way round so I ran out of petrol!'
Rajesh looked pained. 'Pandit Jee,' he sighed. 'He worked for twenty years in a local repair shop. He was very good at this, fixing things as they came in, and if they went wrong being able to correct the next day. But he never understood what we need here, when clients need bikes to be perfect because they are going a long way. No room for little mistakes. He stopped working here about twenty five days ago'.
'Whats happened to him?' I asked. I liked Pandit Jee, and I thought he had done a pretty good job on Ambliss, and I didn't like to think of him being sacked.
'He has gone back to a local shop. I think this is better for him'. I nodded relieved. 'Anything else?' Rajesh asked. It felt like he was trying to catch me out.
I saw him fingering a list. 'Yes. I got hit by a tractor in Rajesthan. It buckled a few bits on the bike - the handlebars, the leg guard and the rack. You may have noticed that it is buckled?'.
'Yes, I have seen the rack is bent'.
'I got it fixed as best I could. Two Punjabi brothers in Jaisamer and then at a place called Lucky Motors in Rishikesh'. I had never intended to try and conceal this from Rajesh, and I think he was a bit disappointed.
'There are some costs with putting this right, you know'. He added. I sighed. Did he have to grasp after every penny!
'Yes Rajesh thats fine. But then I also will have to charge for all the spares that I have bought back. The bulbs, the clutch kit, the cables, the spare air filter and chain, the spark plugs, the extra spanners that we bought and the tyre pump. And the three litres of fuel I added yesterday'.
'Oh, er, perhaps then we can just call it quits then?'
'Yes Rahesh, thats fine'. I had planned to leave it all with him anyway, I couldn't exactly bring it home.
We shook hands and smiled. All in all, it had worked out quite well. Rajesh in his way did his best to give a good service. It cant be easy trusting people to take out your bikes - I am not sure if I would be able to do it.
'Just before I go, can you ship a bike out to England?'
'Oh, yes!' he said happily. 'We can restore a vintage bike for you, box it up in wood and send it over. Very cheap, I bet more than a new bike'. He showed me a few pictures, but I fled before I got too hooked on the idea.
That evening, around a table in a cafe in a bookshop, I met with my Knights Saffron and Black, Bart and Sachin.
'Hey Man!' said Bart, 'Good to see you!' Sachin hugged me. 'Tell us about the rest of your trip?'
So we swapped stories about what had happened to each of us since we parted. Bart was going to be married in a couple of months. 'Over a thousand people coming! Its going to be huge man!' he grinned at me. 'Shame you cant be there. It will be a party for a week'. Knowing Bart's appetite for socialising, I could well believe it.
'How about you Sachin?'
'I'm just negotiating my leaving date!' He smiled at me. 'Depending how much time I get I will either go and climb to Everest like you did, or there is this trek in Leh, where you walk up a frozen river and sleep in caves. It gets to 30 degrees below zero'.
'Bah! Too cold! Bart scoffed at him. I had to agree.
We were joined by two of their friends, Munisha, who had been on them on a previous trip to Uttarkhand, and Vicky from LA who had been working in NGO's for a few years in Delhi. Their relaxed friendship was lovely to see - and I was instantly included in the warm camaraderie between them. I suddenly got a feeling how easy it would be to slip into a life in Delhi; with Sachin and Bart I would never want for friends.
'So next time I see you Sachin, will be in London, And Bart, I promise to come back to you too'.
We hugged. I will see them again. Our story does not end here.
My last evening, a surprise email. 'Ben, where are you? I am in Delhi, I leave tomorrow. Oliver'.
Ollie! Pretty much the first fellow traveller I had met on my travels three months before. He had gone to Dharamsala and a meditation course whilst I travelled Himachel. We had met again in Rishikesh with the breakfast club, and I had left them just before they upped and left as a group to Rajesthan.
'Lets meet at 7, on the roof of the Vivek, where it all began' I replied.
And so, on my last night in India, I drank beer with Ollie, cradled in the afterglow of chill Delhi day.
'So what happened to you when I left Rishikesh?'
'Well the breakfast club upped sticks to Pushkar. All of us! Lena, Sean, Laura, the three Austrian guys. And Michelle'.
'Oh yeah?', I felt the hesitation in his voice and saw it in his eyes. 'Whats the story there then?'
He had the decency to look a little bit abashed. 'Well, we carried on together. Went to Udaipur and then to a national park. It was really.... special. I came here to discover a space inside myself, some peace you know. I wasn't looking to get involved with anyone. But sharing it with someone.... I got an intimate experience of spirit in a different way'.
'Well where is she now? What happened?'
'She went back to Rishikesh and is now with a Brazilian Shaman guru. What!' He looked at me and laughed. 'Hey man, you gotta let these things go. I will see her again, don't worry.
'I went to Sri Lanka, and did a Therevaden meditation course. It made more sense than Tibetan Buddhism for me.
'After one particular session where I went quite deep I made my way up the road above the centre. You could see for miles - ridge after ridge of countryside disappearing into the mist in the distance, thick jungle to the left, a tree lined hillock to the right, small villages dotted over the landscape and a pink hue projected onto the clouds as the sun went down. It was nature at its stunning best. That is when I felt at peace.'
'So what next for you?'
'3 Weeks at home, then I fly to Brazil. I'm going to start up there, in Rio. I don't know what will happen. Part of me wants to just carry on now, meet up with all the people I have met on the way. But also I have to keep the journey going to new places and new things. You can't go back.
'But what about you? What are you going to do next?' So I told him.
'Cool! he said when I had finished. 'I like it, I can see that working for you. Yeah, thats perfect'.
'So do you think we will meet again?' he asked as we were saying goodbye..
'Well I'll tell you what, if we do, you can buy the beer. If we don't, its on me'.
We hugged. If fate wills it, we will meet again. If not, I am richer for having met him.
My last night I slept badly, excited and nervous and sad and scared and amazed that this journey is over and I am almost home.
I left for the airport soon after sunrise, grouchy and tetchy through lack of sleep. I waited to check in frustrated at the hapless check in clerk. I paced impatiently in the departure lounge. But as the plane took off, I played Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen and cried. Whether it was the emotion of having succeeded in the mission, or perhaps failed, or perhaps relief or grief, or just from being over tired, I don't know. But the tension left me, and I felt truly, honestly, blissfully at peace. It was time to come home.
And now there is one last goodbye. Between us. The time has come to finish this story, so others may begin. Thanks for coming with me. Goodbye.
If fate wills it, we will meet again. If not, then I am richer for having had you with me.
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