Having taken on board all the warnings about not cycling in the Game Reserve we had arranged with Jenith that he would take us by jeep to the entry point. So at 6am we were trying to fit 2 bikes and all out kit into a small jeep in the pitch dark with the help of a couple of torches. With everything tied in we set off.  For anyone interested, by the end of today we had cycled 8,170km from Bewdley on this trip!

I tried not to be too disturbed that the windscreen was totally misted up and Jenith was driving with his head hanging out of the side of the jeep to see where he was going, telling myself that he had driven this stretch of road hundreds of times. Luckily it soon started to get light and as it did the windscreen cleared. The road was full of lorries and Jenith explained that the road is closed between 10pm and 6am so the lorries had been waiting at the check point to start driving through. We saw a mother elephant and baby as we drove through and a few deer.

Mudumalai Tiger reserve merges with Bandipur Tiger reserve at the Tamil Nadu-Karnataka border so we had to drive through both to safe cycling country. At the checkpoint at the border there was a huge queue coming the other way as the border guards closely checked each car. We asked what they were looking for and were told it was searching for illegal alcohol. It can be brought cheaply in Karnataka and smuggled into Tamil Nadu and Kerala where alcohol is illegal (yes, we have been ‘dry’ since we left the UK and not missed it at all so far). The delay getting through on our side proved to be due 2 lorries inching across a narrow bridge without jamming themselves completely. An inch by inch process with much gesticulating on all sides.   Once that was cleared, we had an uninterrupted drive through to the edge of the wildlife park.

After about an hour Jenith dropped us at the Bandipur entry point, just as the sun was shining through. The jeep ride put us in easy striking distance of Mysore.

We packed up the bikes and were off. Shortly after David got a puncture (number 2). As he mended it he was soon circled by a group of boys watching intently – all were quiet and polite, whispering to each other occasionally and pointing and giving us cheery waves as we set off again.

The road was wide with a good surface and quiet on Sunday morning. Gently undulating with slightly more down than up so we ate up the kilometres quickly. We first stopped for breakfast at a restaurant that advertised omelettes, only to be told ‘no eggs’. David still could not face curry for breakfast so pressed on and soon stopped at a Coffee chain that we had seen before that mimicked Starbucks at relatively exorbitant prices. However it provided good sandwiches and passable coffee.

At Nanjangud, 20km south of Mysore, traffic picked up and David navigated us onto a parallel side road. As we have found before, 100m away from the main road was like a different country. Small very quiet roads through pleasant rural villages where the fields were ploughed with oxen and farmers dried their hay by spreading it out on the road (a small track either side for bikes and motorbikes but other vehicles just seemed to drive over it).  As we came into the City we saw several cows painted yellow ( we later discovered it was to do with a festival tomorrow)

The approach into Mysore was much less congested than expected and we were soon phoning Suresh, our ‘warmshowers’ host for the night, who came and met us to direct us the short distance to his home. For those new to the blog ‘warmshowers’ is a hosting website for touring cyclists (www.warnshowers.org) that works a bit like couchsurfing. Cyclists offer their homes for hospitality and when touring can prevail on other hosts for a bed.

Suresh and his wife were utterly charming and showed us into a large room with it’s own shower. We were soon cleaned up and chatting over tea. Suresh (who is in his 60s) is a keen trekker and cyclist and trekked to Everest Base Camp a few years ago.

We cut short our initial conversation as we were keen to make the best of the afternoon by seeing Mysore Palace. We walked the kilometre or so to this extraordinary building. Most of the palace in fact only dates from 1912, the previous palace having burned down in a huge fire. The Maharani at the time commissioned a British architect to design and build the new palace with no expense spared (at least to make it fire proof). The resulting building is a huge, ornate fusion between the Colonial Brits and the Maharaja. It felt rather Disney-esque, knowing it was all quite modern but non-the-less was impressive.

That however was not the major impression of the day as we were looking around on a Sunday afternoon the day before a holiday – and the place was absolutely packed. First, we had to leave our shoes at the shoe leaving desk (4 rupees but loose your ticket at your peril). We were then swept into a mass of humanity round the state rooms. Think of the tube at rush hour and then double it, add in children and women in bright saris and everyone taking photos (mostly selfies) and walking round with officials blowing whistles and moving you on. At one point we met a French couple who just said “It’s crazy, crazy, crazy”, which of course it was. There was no choice but to move and at the pinch points through doors and up stairs it felt very crushed. But everyone was chatting and animated and we just went with the flow and absorbed the unforgettable experience.

We also took a side trip round the museum and residential quarters with a moderately interesting audio guide which gave a bit of the history. We did this first and as there were few people in that section and so were totally unprepared for what lay ahead!

Finally we tumbled back out into the open, found the magic footlocker ticket and retrieved our shoes and were able to breath again. The heat of the sun was diminishing as we looked round the outside but were feeling pretty exhausted.

Back at Suresh’s home we were fed a fantastic home cooked meal. I suddenly realised I was famished and we wolfed down biryani, another type of rice dish and home made onion cookies and cakes. All vegetarian and delicious. We chatted some more with Suresh but soon my full stomach and tiredness overcame me. Another memorable day – unforgettable experiences, wonderful hospitality from our hosts and more promised for tomorrow.

Surely one day is much like another on a cycling trip? Well not so far. This was another day with a whole set of new experiences and was forever new and challenging.   Two weeks ago (exactly) we landed in Tivandrum with more than a little trepidation. Two weeks in we have learned so much, gained immeasurable respect for the country we are visiting and relaxed into the trip.

We woke, did bike repair (the Indian roads take their toll but all is back in working order) and had breakfast as the only ones in the Lodge restaurant.   Then we left Ooty and began a descent down a road which had more road signs warning of danger than I have ever seen. The surface was excellent but it dropped about 1200m in about 20km, including 36 hairpin bends.

We negotiated it slowly but, by now, we felt in control of our bikes and did not get spooked by 30% drops on the inside of hairpins – well only a little spooked perhaps. The valley opened up as we descended, with vast areas of arid wilderness with light tree cover exposed on all sides.

About half way down we came to a “police post” manned by an old man who demanded to see our permits. We, of course, had no permits and saw cars passing without having this demand. We got a bit of a stand off and it was unclear whether he had any official status or was just after cash. Total lack of language (other than the word permit) on both sides meant the discussions were limited. In the end we thought we had no choice but just to press on despite his (admittedly fairly half-hearted) protestations. After all, we had already descended 800m and were not, not, not going to turn around and climb back up for lack of a permit on a public road!

We pressed on, waiting for the wail of a police siren, but it never came. As the descent ended we were clearly in a game park area, and pressed on for the next 10km to Tamarind Tree Resort where we had booked a room (for about £15 for the night). We arrived about 11.30am and were met by Rahul who manages the place, spoke great English and expressed considerable surprise that we were allowed to ride our bikes through the game reserve. The major worry was elephants who have been known to charge at things they disapprove of – and cyclists in bright tops may well have come into that category. A competition between a charging elephant and a middle-aged cyclist is, to be frank, not much of a contest. I suspect that Chris Froome might do a little better but my money would still be on the elephant. We resolved to find a way of ensuring that we did not need to cycle through the rest of the park.

The attraction of Masainagudi is that it is in a Mudumalai National Park, and at the edge of the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve. We arranged a jeep to take us to the main government tour point that afternoon. Our guide was Jenith, a local man who had originally studied auto-engineering but was now studying wildlife and ecology whilst working with his own jeep to ferry tourists around. He could not have been more helpful.

We decided to take a minis bus tour of the off-road areas for a couple of hours. It was a good choice as we saw elephants close up, loads of deer, monkeys and some spectacular waterfalls. The highlight was 2 stags in a head to head tussle – no doubt over mating rights for the female deer close-by.

After the tour we visited the elephant sanctuary where captured “rogue” elephants were kept, on show for the tourists but with a chain around one leg. They looked fairly passive but Jenith explained that one had killed 37 villagers and another had killed 28! So the practical alternative to being kept in chains was being shot. Bernie expressed the view that, if it were her, the latter alternative might be preferable! It was a sad place but there was an understandable need for it as these are potentially very dangerous animals.

On the way back we shopped for food for supper and then saw a lovely sunset. A great day all round.

The alarm went off at 4am. Considering we have been altering our body clock to go to bed earlier and earlier and wake earlier and earlier it wasn’t as bad as it sounds especially as we had pretty much crashed at 8pm after our 70 mile ride the previous day. But what on earth were we doing getting up at 4am? The answer was trying to get unreserved tickets for the Nilgiri Mountain Railway, also known as the Toy Train. Yesterday we had been told to arrive at 5.30am and then at 5am and a recent blog advised being there at 4.30am to be at the front of the queue. Given it was going to be more difficult with the bikes, we opted for the 4.30am option.

Continue reading Day 12. Mettupalayam to Ooty. Taking the Nilgiri Mountain Railway. →

Today was a flat amble across the plain which is north of Udumapetta towards the city of Mettupalayam. The main purpose of today was (a) to get 100km further north and (b) to get to a place where we could take a steam train up to Ooty. Not all of you will know our dear friend Malcolm Garner, but, for those who do not, he is a “little bit” keen on steam trains, and would not forgive us if we passed by the chance to take one of famous steam trains in the world – from Mettupalayam up to the hill station of Ooty – a climb of about 2,200m. We both share a part of his enthusiasm – even if we are not minded to invest in owning a train.

Continue reading Day 11: Udumapetta to Mettupalayam: 109km and 400m of climbing. →

We got an early start with glimmers of sun through the early morning mist. The road started at 1450m and wound through tea plantations, gradually climbing up through the Kannan Devan Hills. David’s Garmin inexplicably stopped working but there was only one road for the day so we needed little navigation.

As we climbed the early morning mist thickened into a dense fog and soon we were seeing very little at all. Lights and fluorescent jackets were put on to make us more visible to the passing traffic – which was little. Our climbing legs were going well and the gradient not too steep but no reward of views as we finally peaked at 1850m.

We picked our way down the other side in the gloom. Any hope that crossing the pass would lead to better weather were dashed as the fog got even thicker and the drizzle turned into heavier rain. We were soon kitted out into our full wet weather kit, including over trousers and overshoes. At least we felt it had been worth carrying them!

It would have been a fantastic descent, the gradient not too steep and had a feeling of being surrounded by stupendous views but I could see virtually nothing apart from David’s flickering back light and bright yellow jacket. We paused to chat to a motor cycling group who were doing a trip round South India – the leaders said they had done this route 4 times but never seen weather like this. Hey Ho – sometimes the dice are in your favour and sometimes against. The dice then turned another screw and David hit a pot hole that reared out of the fog hard and got a puncture – the first of the trip.

While David was mending the puncture in the drizzle and I was trying to get some feeling back in my hands, we were passed but 2 Dutch touring cyclists who were going up the hill. We chatted and swapped tips on places to stay then on our way in different directions. So, we are not the only ones who are devoid of any judgement!

We continued down, down, down, still seeing nothing. Just before the town of Myapoor the fog lifted to a mist and we could see we were going down a beautiful valley and passed through a sandalwood forest. In Myapoor we stopped for a cup of tea. We hadn’t had breakfast and realised we had climbed about 500m and gone 45km on a banana! We tucked into some fresh samosas and black tea to revive ourselves. The town was at the edge of the Chinnar Wildlife Sanctuary.

Our original plan had been to stay there and arrange a trip into the sanctuary but there seemed little point in fog and rain so we decided to press on. The road ran through the sanctuary and at times the mist lifted enough to show fantastic scenery – a river far below and hillsides wreathed in mist. It was very atmospheric.

We spotted some long tailed monkeys on the road but they were gone before we had time to pause. The road still dropping all the way to the sanctuary entry point 16km from the town. We had descended from 1800m to 400m. We did pause to see if there seemed any point in going in to the sanctuary but the next trek did not start for another 2.5 hours and would still have taken place in the mist and drizzle. So we decided to press on; there were plenty of other wild life sanctuaries on our route.

At this point we passed from Kerala into Tamil Nadu and were on a road going through Annamalai Tiger Sanctuary. The terrain felt completely different – we could have been in Africa. Small stumpy trees and bush with lots of birdlife. We saw some elephant dung by the road but no sign of elephants of tigers as we cycled through! The sky was now just overcast with occasional drizzle. I suspect that is what put off the tigers making an appearance.

Once we passed the check point out of Annamalai we were suddenly back into habitation and cultivated land. It felt like flicking a switch and made us realise how the landscape would have been if it had remained untouched .

We finally had 25km of flat road to the town of Udumapetta. A typical busy, bustly town with lots of characters but no particular features of note. It felt like a normal indian town way off the tourist route. The road was dusty but considerable investment was going into the shops. There were mobile phone shops that would not have looked out of place on a UK High Street, clothes shops and jewellers. India is being transformed – and this place showed how a fusion of the old and the new was happening before our eyes.

We found a decent hotel – choosing the deluxe room with hot water! Later we strolled out and realised we were ravenous. We saw pizza advertised in a bakery and that seemed just the job. We had delicious pizzas and brought some donuts as a treat to have later in the room- with some in reserve for breakfast too!

Today was the first day when “events” intervened to change our plans. The day started in a chilly way, which was understandable as we were at 1200m. We were provided with an excellent breakfast, and then we were on the way. We intended to ride to Munnar and then on to Chinnar National Park. However, Satish warned us that the main road was being worked on and there was a “diversion”.   We had not quite bargained for how significant a diversion it was!

Continue reading Day 9: Santhapara to Munnar: 49km 1,450m climbing →

We started the day at 900m and ended it at 1180m. That fact does not recognise the hilly terrain and this was another big climbing day – but through undulating hills rather than long mountainous climbs.

Knowing that we had a big day and refreshed by our day off we were up early and off by 7.30.

Continue reading Day 8. Kumily to Santhapara. 73km. 1460m climbing. →

Today was a welcome day off the bikes. It began with a bit of legal work for me (but not too much) and some future route planning for Bernie. We were then off to catch the bus to Periyar Wildlife Park for a nature walk. We were joined by Sophie, whose boyfriend had gone on an all day walk which, tragically, we found we fully booked so we had to console ourselves with just a 3 hour trek (I am not sure irony works well on a blog). However we soon realised we had opted for a better choice.

Our guide was Ram Khrisnan, a hugely knowledgeable local young man, who spoke excellent English, was a mine of information about the park and pointed out things that we would never have seen. Over the next 3 hours we saw hornbill, egrits, herons, elephants, a red mongoose, tree squirrels, monkeys and an owl. We saw a tiger’s paw mark, but no tiger! I will let the photos speak from themselves to express the sheer beauty of this place.

It was peaceful and, in the shade, not too hot. The park was at 900m height, and constructed around a reservoir which was build by a Mr Peabody in the 1880s. That created a 26 square km lake, which was a haven for all types of animals. It is good to know that the British did some good in India, even if it was by accident.

In the bus on the way back we met a family from Rhode Island and a couple from Delhi, chatting on friendly terms to all. Bernie even had a nice gentleman give up his seat for her – but I thought she looked far too healthy for that!

An afternoon of reading and relaxation followed, only punctuated by an attempt to go out to buy Duck Tape, as we ran out on the last set of repairs. My grasp of Indian languages and etiquette is pretty limited, and so trying to explain what we meant by “Duck Tape” to a series of shopkeepers produced hilarity all round. No – it was not parcel tape but a bit like that but stronger. A larger roll of parcel tape was great but not quite what we needed. Electrical tape was getting there, but not quite right … but it may be the best we could secure.   All this was done with huge apologies on all sides (especially ours) as we tried to explain what we needed.

In the evening we had booked seats at 2 cultural events, one after another. The first was a Kalaripayattu demonstration. This was an ancient form of marshall arts dating back 3000 years, from which many of the other more common marshall arts developed. It involved some pretty impressive acrobatics, terrifying sword and stick fighting where one false move could end up with an urgent need for Bernie’s medical skills (at best) or an undertaker at worst, and eventually jumping and tumbling through burning hoops. Pretty impressive all in all, even if the performers may not have great longevity.

We then walked next door to the Kathakali Centre for a classical Indian dance show, with stories acted out in mime and drum, traditional singing (of the “wailing” variety) music, with emphasis on hand and face movements. It was an experience to be there, and was well done.

Both performances were put on for visitors, but 19 out of 20 million visitors to Kerala are from within India. That was reflected in the audiences for both these events, which were very predominantly people who knew far more about what they were watching than we did. Thus watching the audience was almost as fascinating as watching the performances.

To bed early, knowing we are back on our bikes and have another big climbing day tomorrow.

We had a restful night – at least until 5.30 am when the local temple blasted out ear splitting Indian music – presumably with the intention of waking the whole town up. After about half an hour it thankfully stopped and we dosed back to sleep.

Continue reading Day 6. Vagamon to Kumily. 47km. 950m climbing. →

The clue to today is in the climbing numbers – our first big climb of the trip. Tough, tough, tough!!

A week ago today we left Birmingham, not knowing quite how this trip would work out. Now we are a week in, although we have still not turned over the map to the next pane (but it is a very large scale map). Continue reading Day 5: Kumarakom to Wagamon (or Vagamon): 87km and 1,450m of climbing →

After a blissfully quiet night we were up early and on the road by 7 to try and beat the heat. We fiddled about a bit trying to get off the island but found the little ferry to take us to the road heading north and we were on our way. The first 15 or so km were on fairly quiet roads and the road surface not bad – we saw workmen mending the road – Boys from the Black Stuff Indian style. It looked a hot and tough job with the only mechanical aid the final roller. The rest was done by hand. Those bits that were completed delivered us a stretch of road relatively free from pot holes. The road criss-crossed the railway and we learnt to negotiate the masses when we were stopped at crossings, and then had to go with the flow of humanity as the gates opened up.

We then turned on to the main highway – the main artery up the coast – and hit traffic in a big way. However the road was wide, the surface very good and there was a shoulder to cycle on. True, there were often pedestrians, motorcycles and tuktuks coming the other way on the shoulder; but we could usually negotiate our way and we made good pace. We were learning the rules of the road and the pecking order (bicycles give way to everything) and it did not feel (that) unsafe.

We stopped at a roadside restaurant and met a multigenerational Irish family and chatted for a while. They were going south the backwaters, but then returning to Goa so the 7 year old could attend a Steiner school there.

We passed on our website address and later they were kind enough to comment on the blog. Perhaps we will meet them again in Goa. We then chatted to the restaurant owner while we ate delicious masala omelettes. He had worked with his company in Finland and the UK and was now retired back to the family home, which he had converted into the restaurant/hotel.

The day was heating up and time to move on. Our next stop was the Krishnapuram Palace museum. An old Keralan palace built by a maharaja and now a museum of Keralan artifacts. The wooden building was built for coolness with a large pond in the garden (looking a bit green and slimy) and there was the largest mural painting in Kerala on one of the walls. A pleasant stop.

On again, as we knew we had a lot if distance to cover. Soon we turned onto a less busy road but still a good road surface passing through towns and villages. We stopped for lunch under some trees by a Hindu temple. Having asked whether it was ok, their main concern was that we were not going to eat any meat. We could assure them we were only boiling water for our brew. A woman from the house next to the temple brought out a rice/milk drink and something that looked like a curry paste on a banana leaf. So kind and hospitable, it felt bad to decline. We managed, I hope, to decline the curry gracefully by miming stomach problems and sipped at the milky drink until we could tip it away without being seen. Stomachs holding out so far but we did not want to tempt fate.

We revived somewhat after our coffee and snacks but don’t feel we have really found a good system of cycling food yet.

During the afternoon we were mainly on busy roads but managed a couple of stretches on side roads (thanks to the Garmin and Googlemaps) where within a minute of leaving the main road it felt as if we were on another planet peddling past peaceful paddy fields. An ice cream stop cooled us down but we were managing the heat a bit better.

The last stretch bypassed the city of Kottayam, then down to the shores of Vembanad Lake, Kerala’s largest lake and home to Kumakarom bird sanctuary which we plan to visit at dawn tomorrow. Our bed for the night is at Tharavadu Heritage Home in a beautifully restored 1870s teak mansion. We had a not very satisfactory search for a meal. Googlemaps marked a seafood restaurant but it turned out to be part of a very swanky 5 star hotel which was firmly hidden away behind enormous wooden gates. We were told the restaurant was full but suspect it was just closed. We found a pleasant family restaurant and ordered fish. A rather small single fish cooked in a banana leaf was very tasty but was rather meagre in size but not in price!

Overall an A to B day where we covered a good amount of distance, saw some interesting sites, got more confident in the traffic and look forward to turning inland to the mountains tomorrow

David: I think we are now getting acclimatised to travelling, the heat, the distances and the general ambiance of India. It always amazes me how people can get used to something new so quickly. Maybe the same thing happens to conscript soldiers in a war, children shipped off to boarding schools or prisoners when they are first incarcerated. The difference is that we are volunteers, but there is still a vast difference from the way the rest of our lives run to get used to. No one calls Bernie “doctor” and I am trying to ignore law (as much as I can). We are no longer tough professionals but would-be tough cyclists. Our problems are not those of our clients or patients, but getting enough of the right food, avoiding tuktuks and trying to plan and book accommodation for the next few days.

I sometimes wonder if we are being selfish – leaving those who depend on us behind for 2 months whilst we cycle off into the Orient. Maybe we are a bit, but I also see these trips as a time for personal battery re-charging. It’s a time for reflection, rebalancing priorities and having new experiences. In India – there is no shortage of experiences.

One of the things that strikes me from my first few days in rural India is that it is a land where people are defined by the deity they inherited from their parents. Kerala has a massive Catholic population, with full churches and overt signs of religion on buses. It is not quite as “in your face” as in Ghana but Christianity as a religion is alive and growing. But I suspect that, despite all the modernisation of a fast developing country, a census which had a box for “No Religion” would have very few subscribers.

A child of Muslim parents is defined by his or her inherited religion; a child of Hindu parents not only inherited a religion of mystifying complexity but a caste system which is almost as complex. There was a push to marginalise the importance of the caste system after Independence, but it has endured and under the BJP government may even have revived. Is it that different to the English system of “class”? It may be slightly more structured and inflexible here but it has distinct (and uncomfortable) similarities. So, awkward as the caste system may feel to us, an English QC and a doctor not in the best position to express progressive views – so we hold our thoughts to ourselves.

Varkala may be magical during the day, but the howling dogs ruled at night. We felt as if we were kept awake as they howled long into the night, just outside our bedroom window. However we were both fast asleep when the alarm went off at 6.30am.

Continue reading Day 3: Varkala to Munroe Island: 46km →

(Bernie) We had a rather odd night in which we either had the fan on, and it sounded as if we were in a helicopter, or fan off and were too hot. Having fallen asleep at 8pm David woke up at 2am and was up for 2 hours writing the blog and reading and then came back to bed – but still managed about 9 hours sleep. We were slightly out of practice packing up our stuff but got everything packed and breakfasted and were on the road by 9am.

The first part took us over a peninsular with some hills but down the other side and on the way to Trivandrum was then flat. We found ourselves on a brand new dual carriageway for a short while but it had a shoulder and good surface and not too much traffic and, after a short while, we were able to move onto the now empty old road running parallel.

Trivandrum is a city of a million people so we were a bit nervous at how we would traverse it but David’s skilful navigation with the Garmin took us on small roads around the airport perimeter and then directly by the coast. Busy in parts it was all fine mostly with buses and tuktuks to negotiate, as well as thousands of motorbikes. The Garmin has been invaluable. The free street maps David downloaded were incredibly accurate, and in the absence of any detailed maps, completely essential in allowing us to find a network of small side roads which has mostly meant we can avoid the busiest roads. Google maps is also very useful in plotting the route and those critical last few km finding our accommodation. Technology is wonderful!

As we were coming out of the Trivandrum conurbation we saw a cyclist on the other side of the road. He was a completely bonkers German man (about our age, or possibly older) who was cycling on a bike he had brought in India for 200 Euros (and he was ripped off) and carrying a heavy rucksack on his back. He seemed rather starved of conversation but mainly wanted to discuss how cheap our accommodation had been and the price of various guest houses he had been in. He also gave us a detailed guide to cycle route in Germany – useful for us on our way to Australia. He was irritating but armless, and no doubt he thought we were bonkers too!

There had been a distinct lack of tea/coffee houses and shortly after Trivandrum we were able to perch under a tree by the sea and brew up our first decent cup of coffee since we arrived. It was next to an enormous church. These churches, like huge ornate wedding cakes, were dotted all along the way. Christianity/Catholicism is the predominant religion in Kerala so I am sure they are all full. Like all large, ornate religious buildings they seem incongruous when cheek by jowl with poor shacks; but all religions seem to have the need to build these symbols of power and prosperity wherever we have been in the world. Maybe they are a symbol to followers that they too will have prosperity by adopting a religion with affluent symbols.

We then met 5 English people on a tour on mountain bikes going the other way, with their Indian guide. He was not in the least phased when we shyly admitted we had plans to cycle to Delhi. “I have cycled from Kashmir” he explained, with clients. His advice was invaluable about how to plan our days in the Western Ghats to ensure we had accommodation. His group were 2 parents from Stafford and their 3 adult children who all lived in London. The father looked as if he was doing this as a family bonding exercise but was feeling the heat a bit much. We chatted for a few minutes and then wished them well. All their gear followed in a TukTuk – that seems a pretty good model!

We next took a route of small roads hugging the coast through small villages and towns. Sometimes the road disintegrating in small patches we became expert at weaving a path through bumpy pot holes but mostly even the small roads were pretty good. It gradually became hotter but there was lots of shade from palm trees so it was reasonably bearable and we knew we would acclimatise over time. At one point we were encouraged by locals to follow a road that appeared to be a dead-end at an estuary, but the presence of buses let us to suspect it was not. Sure enough, a new bridge appeared. However much money had been spent on the bridge, nothing was spent on the road either side which was pretty degraded.

The road ran for miles between the sea and an inland lake, and was pretty built up. We looked for miles for somewhere to stop for lunch and eventually found a church. We ended up in the shade of the porch where there were convenient chairs and shade.

By 3pm we had reached Varkala and found ‘Rita’s Homestay’. A comfortable room, even hot water for the shower (a first this trip!) and a few minutes walk to the beach. Varkala is described in the guidebook as ‘one of the 10 best beaches in the world’. A crescent of white sand is enclosed by red cliffs dotted with palm trees. It is also described as a ‘backpackers’ resort with a ‘cool vibe’ (just right for us then!) and along the cliff top was a series of cafes and restaurants catering for all taste in the world.

Earlier in the day I was commenting that I was already feeling like a ‘tourist snob’ congratulating ourselves on finding small roads and villages that the usual tourist would never see. However, I almost literally ate my words as I tucked into a delicious omelette and wonderful cappuccino. I’m quite happy to indulge in the tourist benefits when it suits! We then strolled along the beach and back as the sun began to set (a theme so far of each evening of the holiday) feeling relaxed and more awake than the previous day. In part, I suspect because we were getting over the jet lag (or maybe we kid ourselves and are just not fit enough yet but are getting used to the heat and building up the fitness).

Later after dark we strolled out again for cake from a German Bakery and Mint tea to take in a few more tourist treats while we had the opportunity and to mull over another fantastic day. So far everything exceeding expectations and rapidly falling in love with this part of India.

So the day finally arrived. Le petit depart no2 of this trip (see 2014 for the first). A small crowd assembled around the bikes as we loaded on our panniers. The Garmins seemed to generate the most interest. And then we were off, ambling up the first hill of the day, avoiding the Tuktuks and pedestrians and heading westwards. The road surfaces were good almost all day. The main roads are busy but there are plenty of side roads, but it is often hard from the map to tell which is a main road and which is a side road.

Cycling in India is an assault on the senses. There is noise at times, constantly varying smells, and colourful sights around every corner. The convention here is that a driver sounds his (and they are mostly but not exclusively male drivers) horn before overtaking. That includes overtaking bikes, so we have cars, motorbikes and buses hooting all the time. It is not a message to “get over” but just “I am about to overtake you”, often followed by a friendly wave.

The smells vary constantly – some good and some bad. We cycled past a still waterway full of weeds and rubbish, and with a constant bad smell at one point today. But India has made a concerted attempt to clean up the rubbish in recent years and it is far less prevalent than reported. Plastic is burned rather than discarded in most places.

There is evidence that the Swachh Bharat Abhiyan (SBA) or Swachh Bharat Mission (SBM) campaign (or Clean India Mission in English) is working. This is a campaign that aims to clean up the streets, roads and infrastructure of India’s cities, smaller towns, and rural areas. The objectives of Swachh Bharat include eliminating open defecation through the construction of household-owned and community-owned toilets and establishing an accountable mechanism of monitoring toilet use. Run by the Indian Government, the mission aims to achieve an Open-Defecation Free (ODF) India by 2 October 2019, the 150th anniversary of the birth of Mahatma Gandhi by constructing 12 million toilets in rural India.

India is constantly colourful. Houses are brightly painted, saris are wonderfully bright and the symbols of religion have splashes of colour. It was a Hindu holiday (or possibly holy day) yesterday and so the temples were full, and there were roadside loudspeakers blasting out devotional music. The speakers were attached to lampposts or in stacks of speakers at the roadside.

We cycled for about 40km in the early morning light and then stopped at a roadside café for tea. Could we have it without milk? No was the answer. It came with milk and sugar pre-added, which was hard for a western palate to accept. But we persevered and it was worth it. And at 16 rupees (i.e. about 20p), it was cheaper than Starbucks.

After our tea stop, the heat built up. It was hot but not unbearably so. But we felt it each time there was a slope. Bottled water is available everywhere and we gulped down many litres each, but the worst of the heat of the day was bearable. And we are going North so maybe it will not get much hotter.

For large parts of the day we ambled along quiet roads, often by the sea amongst coconut groves. This is a fishing area and we saw men working on brightly painted boats. Little hamlets seemed to be around every bend, and there are children everywhere. This is a young country.

Often, if we stopped, someone would come up shyly to wish us Happy New Year and to chat. Not in an invasive way, but gently and welcoming. A local teacher and his 2 young daughters was strolling along the beachside road, and chatted for a while. The children were shy and wary of strangers, but he was proud of his profession and pleased we had chosen to spend time in his country. There is something about cycling which breaks down barriers instantly, and is so different to the response when one get’s out of a car. But then there is a hill and we miss having an engine.

At one point the road narrowed and 2 large buses were trying to pass each other outside a temple, with blazing music and thousands of devotees milling around. The skill of the drivers was astonishing as, inch by inch, they managed to pass each other. They had lots of “help” from those surrounding the buses and horns blasted to warn pedestrians that the bus was inching up against a wall – so please get out of the road. It was organised chaos that took 10 minutes to resolve, and everyone went on their way.

The day was a blaze of heat, dust and noise. We did 89km before we got to our destination which, as a taster for the trip, was a bit much. We finally arrived at the Aydurva Resort where we booked in for the night. It was a strange contrast. We were suddenly back amongst westerners who had all come here for the medicinal effects of massage, herbal treatments and relaxation (apart from one overweight man from Essex who seemed to be here for a detox, imposed by an unsmiling wife, as a punishment for too much good living).

We swam in the pool and then walked down to the beach. It was fantastic – miles of wide open sand. But there were thousands of families here for New Year’s day. We think there must have been a beach football competition, judging by the groups of young men in identical kit. But there is something common the world over about the joy of sand and waves. Children and adults frolicking in the surf; only mostly they were fully dressed. Loads of fun, laughter and sheer joy as young men carried their friends into the sea and small children jumped up as the waves hit them.

We watched a beautiful sunset and then walked back up the steep slope to the hotel. Dinner and bed – and I was sound asleep by 8.30pm.

Bernie: The first day of a New Year and it could not have felt newer. An amazing day which we really enjoyed and left my head buzzing. The fear that the roads would be unmanageable was unfounded. In the towns, there is organised chaos but between towns the roads were quiet – even on the main roads. Certainly no worse an experience than cycling in London and much prettier cycling along shady palm fringed roads! We even got used to using our Bicycle Horns that Santa gave us – it really does work as we tooted at Tuktuks and pedestrians wandering into the road to say we were coming past. We arrived elated and exhausted but ready for more.