The Travelling Life of Silvan Colani
November 2007 - India/Bhutan
Of all the trips I’ve ever undertaken, this one has probably been the longest in the making. I first got in touch with Rob Callander and his unique operation – Himalayan Roadrunners - probably more than ten years ago. At the time I didn’t quite have the money for this sort of adventure but I kept in touch with Rob over the years and kept his brochure under my coffee table and his itinerary “Bhutan – Riding the Thunder Dragon” firmly on my to-do list. After all, it combines two of my greatest passions: the freedom of riding a motorbike and the magic of the Himalayas! And the mythical land of Bhutan especially has long been an alluring spot on my world map. So finally, with my wife in tow as pillion rider, we embarked on this great expedition.
Our adventure started off very smoothly with a free upgrade to business class on our flight to Delhi. The only problem coming from Asia is that the plane arrives in the middle of the night, at 2:30am in our case. Immigration and customs was surprisingly hassle-free and we quickly found our driver which we had pre-arranged. We drove straight through the night to Agra, which took exactly four hours – just slightly less than the flight from Hong Kong!
In Agra we checked into the Oberoi Amarvilas, one of the most expensive places I’ve ever stayed at. But it’s 600m from the Taj Mahal and every room has unobstructed views of this incredible monument. The only problem with the view was a combination of mist and pollution (I’m told February or July/August – hot – are the best times to see the Taj in terms of blue skies). But even in this grey muck the Taj Mahal is stunning! It is of course the greatest gift of love, having been built over 22 years and completed in 1648 by the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan in loving memory of his favorite wife (he had several) who died in child birth. (The emperor was later imprisoned by his own son at the Red Fort across the river in clear view of the Taj until his own death.) Built of pure white marble, the mausoleum is perfectly shaped and – despite large weekend crowds – stunning to gaze at up close. In the words of Edward Lear (who?): “The world is divided in two – those who have seen the Taj and those who have not.”
Next morning we drove back to Delhi, a city I can only describe as a massive mess. Traffic is a complete chaos and the dents and scratches on every car (no exceptions) are testament to the push-and-shove road rules. Most cars fold in their rear view mirrors which means that a) they cannot see what’s coming from behind (who cares…) and b) they can better squeeze into any gap in the traffic. To make matters worse, many roads were blocked because there was a half marathon in the morning and a rally of 25,000 protesters demanding land rights. Add to that thousands of cows, dogs and wild monkeys roaming freely in the city and you get the picture. We limited our sightseeing to the Chendhi Chok market (a mess within the greater mess) and the Jama Masjid mosque (a peaceful oasis within the mess). Frankly, I couldn’t wait to get out of there and into the foothills of the Himalayas!
The flight from Delhi to Bagdogra in West Bengal, just south of Darjeeling, is spectacular! If you sit on the left you see the entire Himalayan range from as far east to west as the eye can see, eventually culminating in Everest, Lhotse, Makalu and the huge massif of Kanchenjunga, just before you descend into this corner of India squeezed between Nepal and Bangladesh. In Bagdogra we met up with Rob and the other members of our road expedition: Peter and Nigel (a.k.a. “Itchy Bum”) from England, Frenchman Edouard the Bright (for leaving his lights on all the time), Eric from Louisiana and Robert from Austria (Anders, the Swedish Chef, would join us later.) After a short briefing of all the basics we inspected our bikes – the 500cc Royal Enfield Bullet – and took them for a first ride into the sunset towards the Nepali border. It takes a bit of time getting used to this bike, since everything is sort of in reverse: brake paddle on the left and gear paddle on the right; kick down to shift up and vice versa. Thus I ended up stepping on the brake a lot when I wanted to change gears. And finding neutral is a science in itself. And while I never mastered it completely, I eventually got the hang of it.
Next morning we were off – out of town and straight north into the hills. Traffic was light, possibly due to a general strike in the province. The road eventually started to wind its way up through endless tea plantations and the views quickly got more spectacular. The road was equally stunning with sharp turns and big drop-offs. By lunch we reached Mirik, a fairly non-descript town, but with a beautiful Tibetan monastery on top of the hill. We spent the afternoon up there watching young monks play soccer outside and playing pranks on each other during prayers! Boys will be boys, I guess, even when they’re monks.
We spent a sleepless night in a horrible hotel room – cold, damp and noisy (dogs and a group of Indians arriving at 2am) – but were rewarded with a sensational view of Kanchenjunga (at 8598m the world’s third highest peak) and more chanting from the monks.
At 0830hrs we mounted our bikes and headed back out into the tea plantations, steadily gaining altitude towards Darjeeling, the famous British hill station and ‘tea capital of the world’. It is also the ‘fog capital’ of the world and most of the way visibility was severely reduced due to the mist. At Ghoom, some 10kms from Darjeeling, we caught up with the ‘toy train’, built in 1881 and mostly unchanged since, that slowly rumbles up to the hill station on a very narrow gauge. Darjeeling itself is packed and noisy and probably a far cry from the original summer retreat is once was. Some of the old charm was retained however at The Elgin, a colonial hotel with plenty of character. We had dinner in its stately dining room for which I bought a new pair of trousers (Rs 300) that I needed to shorten at the tailor (Rs 100). I also went to the barber for a shave and head massage (Rs. 40).
We rose at 4:15am to catch the sun rise at Tiger Hill, a popular tourist spot. But thanks to the thick fog all we saw was a gazillion local tourists and hundreds of jeeps. Later in the morning we finally did catch a glimpse of the high mountains between thick layers of clouds.
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