northward bound...Delhi to Rishikesh

Finally having waited a week in Bangalore we loaded the bikes and ourselves aboard the Karnataka Express bound for Delhi. 42 hours of pure bliss lay before us in second class sleeper. Although having a made a reservation and waiting a week for said seats on this train we still had to share our space with a score or so people. I can imagine the uproar if several people tried to squeeze onto your first class seat on an Inter city in England. I'm sure blood would be spilled. However in India everyone makes room for those less fortunate than the seat holders, squeezes up and distributes whatever food stuffs they have equally until everyone is best friends. We did at least to secure a bunk each to ourselves. One enterprising young german took the opportunity to string up his hammock in the aisle much to the delight and amusement of everyone...exept the transport police who made him cut it down again. Savages.

So nearly two days later we pulled into Delhi and decanted at New Delhi station. Holls and I were not exactly blown away by Delhi the first time, so it was with heavy hearts that we battled across the city to the Tibetan settlement at Manju Ta killa on the bank of the Yamuna river. This was a smart move as you are effectively cocooned from India by a small piece of Tibet, Tibetans being possibly the kindest people we've met so far. A couple of days proper rest after the train had as chomping at the bit to hit the road again and head for the hills. It was actually way hotter up here on the plains than it had been in Bangalore. 38 degrees to be precise, not exactly the time to be sporting a black motorcycle helmet. We were in no mood to hang around and blasted through the 200kms to Hardiwar where we stopped for a spot of lunch. Hardiwar is holy. Holy than a pair of old y-fronts you might say. It is the point where the mighty Ganges emerges from the Himalaya and pilgrims flock to bathe in its cool, and relatively unpolluted (at this stage anyway) waters. Not particularly enamoured by Hardiwar we pushed on 25ks to Rishikesh, famous world over for it's Yoga Ashrams and, probably more memorably because of a visit from four scouse lads back in the early 70s who sought inspiration and divine intervention. We didn't any beatles, but we did find we had lost our guide book somewhere on the highway from Delhi.

This threw us a little as despite (loving and) loathing the Lonely Planet we had relied on it a little to at least start us off in the right direction for finding a hotel that suited us. After asking several vague Indians and doing a little internet research we pushed on further north still to the village of Lashman Gula. The ride here defies description and gravity too sometimes as we skirted up the valley and crossed over the Ganges on a wire/rope bridge. Suspended on our bikes 50 feet above the fast flowing water we jostled with cows, and people to reach the other side.

We have now spent three very relaxing days eating good old western food and people watching all the new age spiritual types who flock here to realise their full cosmic potential. Most of the travellers here look like they bought a DIY travel in India dress up kit. Matching clothes and experimental facial hair and manicured dreadlocks abound as do the vacant stares of people who obviously have some really big questions on their minds.

It obviously isn't working for everyone though. Our first night lounging in a cafe watching the sun set we witnessed an older American lady - dressed in her new age uniform - enter the cafe and begin a rather heated discussion with the boy working there entitled 'the distance bassy music can travel, and how it upsets my spiritual practise'. She blew a gasket lashing out at the kid, slapping him about a bit and calling him a chump. The other punters stared on agog as this evil witch ranted and raved until she was encouraged to leave by one of the other cafe goers, muttering to herself as she went. Holly & I both agreed that perhaps she had possibly overstayed her welcome in India, or needed to change Yoga teachers, and that maybe the path for enlightenment for her was indeed a long and arduous one. In a land where one billion people have utmost tolerance for each others disturbances, day in day out - I'm almost sure there has been a festival of some description and of every religious nomination every day since we arrived - we were quietly comforted by the fact that even those who dress and talk zen are deep down still uptight westerns. Made us laugh anyway...