Bullet for sale!

So with the unexpected departure of my partner in crime I was left to fend for myself (and the two bikes) in the Kullu valley. Bad news is never good news and this was the worst kind, but with Holly flying back to reunite the Tribe I had to get the bikes buffed and on the market.

First though long bus ride. Declining a sleeper seat, I boarded the bus in Delhi and regretted my tight-fistedness after about 5 minutes. Head and leg room compromised I sweated it out, thinking that in 12 hours I should be back in Manali. Wrong. In the middle of the night there was one hectic old thunderstorm which brought the traffic to a standstill for what seemed like hours. 12 hours later, my anticipated arrival time, we were told another 6 hours! Bumping and grinding our way through the mountains I eventually saw a Manali road sign - 10kms. At this point another traffic jam forced me out of the bus, I'd had enough of sitting down and decided to walk the rest of the way.



Now safely back in Manali it was time for action. A few days chatting with mechanics and fellow bikers left me their was a shortage of customers. Still too early for most people to be hitting the mountains. However, at Anu's garage a chance encounter with Amir, a friendly Israeli, found me two willing riders and prospective purchasers. What followed was a couple of days good natured negotiations and second opinions on the bikes' health. The whole Bullet Wallas saga had left a fairly nasty taste in my mouth what with the cost of repairs to Bruno, I was not going to pass on bad news and luck to anyone else. So upfront an honest we eventually brokered a deal which left Holls and I slightly out of pocket, but with a clear conscience. I spent a couple of days with Amir and Eal running through the basics and even helping teach Eal to ride the mighty bullet.

It was with a really heavy heart that I handed the keys over to them and watched them ride off into the sun, the thump of Anook and Bruno resounding in my ears. It had been a blast riding up and down this country and knowing that the two Israelis would be going up and over the passes into Leh and Spiti was gutting for me, but it was about remembering the good (and bad) times with no regrets.

The week passed fairly quickly after that, thanks in part to Jamie and Grace who kept me company. Classic British humour from both and a shared love of dirty electronica between Jamie and I were a winning combination.



On a brilliant hike one day up beyond Old Manali we found a lovely old guy who was carrying about 20kgs of fresh chantrelle mushrooms. Happily relieving him of a kilo for our supper, we hiked on to find the disturbing resting place of a few unlucky cows who had become vulture and crow feed. Still it was nice to be up away from the crowds in Manali. It was beer o'clock fairly early most evenings and when eventually Jamie & Grace left for Spiti, I was pretty gutted. Living in London though, it was one of those rare meetings when traveling where you know you'll actually see these people again...someday.


the shroom guy!