"Ride The Wagon"

Our bill came to Rs. 6,002 and we settled by American Express. At around 07h30 we boarded the hotel bus that took us to regional departures at Kathmandu airport. We were flying to East Nepal, and the town of Birat Nagar, on Necon Air flight 3Z119. The departures section of the airport was a-hustle and a-bustle, but our luggage was checked in without a hitch. After a 30 minute wait in the departures lounge, we boarded our aircraft - an HS 748...what exactly that is, I don't know!

The flight was comfortable and the service a lot better than I expected...in fact they could teach Czech Airlines a thing or two!! The tea they served was made with hot milk and was magnificent. It took me back to my childhood and my Aunt Joyce's kitchen in King William's Town - back in the '60s and early 70s she always had a pot brewing on the coal fire in the kitchen. The food was simple fare - a banana, a bowl of rice-like stuff, and a slice of what appeared to be cake. I did not eat. A unique experience was the in-flight raffle. A ll passengers filled in a small entry form, providing only name and seat number. These were then collected, thrown into the steward's hat, and a lucky winner drawn. The young girl across the aisle from me in seat 7C was the chosen one! I believe that she won a free flight on Necon Air.

The HS 748 flew at an altitude of 11,500 feet and made good time to Birat Nagar (altitude 235 feet; N 26°29'02.9" E 087°16'00.3"), landing at 09h45. The small fleet of Tata "Sumo" 4X4's arranged by Himalayan Roadrunners had not yet arrived so we all enjoyed a cold Coke in the departure lounge while we waited. The airport was very Third World, reminding me a lot of some of the run down airports I have been to in Africa. Terry Clark caused a bit of a stir when he tried to go to the Men's room. Unfortunately for him the cubicle he entered was actually the room where customs and immigration officials "frisk" their suspects. The autopsy gloves and KY-Gel were waiting!!

The Tatas arrived in due course, and the luggage was loaded up. We left the airport past rows of rickshaws, and into the Eastern Nepalese countryside. Election slogans like "Vote Sun" and "Vote Tree" are daubed on many walls in the area, and the communist hammer and sickle also makes a sinister appearance. The area is a huge flood plain, and all dwellings are raised on stilts at least 3 or 4 metres above the ground. Pale green and yellow rice paddy fields dominate the landscape, and the cultivation of rice seems to be the region's primary agricultural activity. Oh yes, we also drove through a number of fairly large tea plantations (or at least that's what it appeared to be). Cattle, water buffalo, hogs and dogs were the only animals we saw in this very rural environment.

We eventually reached the Nepalese border post at Kakarvitta (N 26°38'46.6" E 088°09'25.4") where I shot some very colourful pictures of a face-paint salesman. We filled in the short exit form that we were given, and everything went really smoothly. Across a bridge that makes up a significant portion on "no mans land" we reached the Indian border post at Raniganj. Unfortunately things were not that slick at this end, and we must have spent two hours there while the military Immigration Officer transcribed every detail from our entry form into a large journal. Solo travellers that arrived well after us got preferential treatment, and we waited an unnecessarily LONG time in the heat.

West Bengal is one of the most culturally and ethnically diverse states of India. The people of the region inherit their identity and aspiration from the larger Indian mosaic and from civilisations beyond the shores of India. Different ethnicity, religion, languages and culture adds to this rich landscape and may actually unify the people instead of separating them.

The region itself is nestled in the eastern part of India, and is surrounded by beautiful Sikkim, the magnificent Himalayas, and the countries of Nepal and Bhutan on the north. It is just as poor as Nepal, but there were some impressive (and colourful) temporary shrines erected for the week's religious festivities. The squalor was never ending and, as far as I am concerned, the roads were worse than those in Nepal.

I must admit that I was nodding off by the time we drove through Siliguri. To the north of the town we reached our destination for the day, namely the Hotel Cindrella (N 26°45'23.0" E 088°26'32.7"):

Hotel Cindrella
Sevoke Road
3rd Mile
Siliguri
73401
India

Tel: 0353 54-4130 / 54-713
Fax: 0353 43-0615
E-Mail: [email protected]
E-Mail: [email protected]

The Royal Enfield Bullet 500's that were to be our steeds for the next two weeks were lined up and ready for a photo shoot! A Japanese girl on a Bullet 350 (that we had met at the border post) joined us on Rob's invitation, and she drew up alongside the 500's. Debs and I checked into room 217 and immediately headed for the shower. It was tepid but good.

A 16h30 we met in the restaurant downstairs, and ordered some snacks and drinks. Thereafter Rob introduced the group to Ed Shuttleworth (who Debs and I knew from Ladakh), gave a short briefing on health issues, riding tactics and the buddy system. We then moved outside, and were allocated bikes, (Debs and I getting DL9SE 5357) and given brief instructions on how to start and ride an Enfield. Being a bike of British origin, the gear lever and brake pedals are on the "wrong" side!! Scary stuff!

By the time we got on the road for our "acclimatisation ride" it was dark. That on it's own is no problem, but in India, vehicle lights seem to be optional, and the animals don't give a damn! Drivers also seem to get more aggressive, pushing hard to get to their destinations for the night. In a couple of "mini-crisis" situations, I inadvertently hit the gear lever instead of the brake pedal. "HOLY SHIT"!! Nevertheless, we all got back in one piece, and fell into the restaurant for a few necessary beers. The "Black Labels" flowed and the conversation was animated...all of us sharing our impressions of the Enfield. Something strange happened too - the World Cup rugby came up on satellite television, and we saw France (only just) beating Fiji. My tonsil problem got worse throughout the day, and Rob gave me some anti-biotics. As I sit here writing this, it's already starting to feel better. By 23h00 I was in bed, by which time Debra was long gone.

A long day.