SPICE TEA AND TOY TRAINS
"Better late Mr. Motorist than the late Mr. Motorist." "Rather meet your wife than lose your life." These are just two of the many sayings displayed prominently before hairpin bends on the narrow, winding road to Darjeeling. After having cycled several thousand kilometres on Indian roads we could see the reasoning behind these warnings. In a country renowned for its cultural pacifity and slow pace of life we were constantly amazed by the reckless suicidal tendencies of the drivers.
We had entered India near the city of Siliguri after having spent the previous six weeks cycling and trekking in the Himalayan Kingdom of Nepal. Having made sure that our visa and Darjeeling permit were in order we passed through immigration and customs relatively quickly considering that Indian bureaucracy is not renowned for its speed. Sharing the road with millions of other cyclists, bullock carts, overladen trucks, crowded buses and countless people going about their daily business can be very demanding and quite exciting, especially after the tranquility of Nepal. However, within the hour we were installed in our hotel room recovering from our eventful day's ride and feeling clean after a refreshing cold shower.
Sitting later in the "bar-cum-restaurant" enjoying a cold beer and catching up with our diaries when a rather large turbaned Sikh asked if he could join us."From where are you coming?" he demanded.We were not quite sure whether he meant what country we lived in or where we had come from that particular day.
"Nepal." we decided.
"Ah, that beautiful Himalayan Kingdom supported by India," he continued "and how do you like India? Have you visited our magnificent Golden Temple in Amritsar? Do you not think that there should be an independent state of Kalistan?"All those questions demanded complex and well-thought out answers but as we did not have the time nor the inclination to continue the discussion we both agreed with him. Before leaving for a little walk he told us how he had barricaded himself in the hotel to avoid the vengeance of the rampaging Hindus in the days immediately after the assassination of Indira Gandhi.We were very thankful that we had not been in the country at that time!
The street vendors and scavenging dogs were the only signs of life as we pedalled out along the unusually empty streets, northwards, toward the old British hill station of Darjeeling. The sun was just appearing on the hazy horizon as we started the slow, peaceful climb into the Himalayan foothills. We were looking forward to leaving the terrai of northern India and spending a few days in the refreshing mountain air before heading south again to the smog and pollution of Calcutta.
The first 10 kilometers were flat and straight but this soon gave way to an incline which was to remain constant all the way to the top. Once second gear was engaged we were not to change up nor down until we reached the highest point at a place called Ghoom (8217ft), only 10km before Darjeeling (7207ft). But Ghoom was still 63km away! Although we were very fit by this stage it still took 9 hours to tackle the gradient. However it was a very enjoyable climb and we stopped often to admire the views and to drown ourselves in spice tea and the ubiquitous Glucose biscuits. As we ascended, the moist tropical vegetation changed to neat but steep sided tea plantations. We could see the famous tea glistening in the morning dew as we twisted our way around the mountainside, one eye on the vistas and the other on the lookout for the killer truckies and suicidal bus drivers. This particular day is etched in our memories as one of the most enjoyable and rewarding of our marathon cycle expedition from Scotland to Australia.
Darjeeling is famous for many things, one of which is the small "toy" train chugging its way up to the town on a regular basis. In fact it is a minature train which services the little villages betweenSiliguri and Darjeeling and is also a favourite of the many tourists visiting the area and on their way to the Himalayan Kingdom of Bhutan. This train not only follows the road with all its curves and bends but crosses it an incredible 119 times (I counted) all in the space of 80 kms and a height gain of 8,000 feet. Its small coal burning engine is only capable of pulling three carriages, one first class and two second class and, as elsewhere in India, it becomes overcrowded with people sitting on the roof, sticking out of windows and generally hanging on wherever they can. Every so often some of the passengers have to disembark when the incline becomes too steep or when the train stops at a station since the engine is just not powerful enough to do a hill start fully laden. However, once the fire has been re-stoked and momentum has been regained the passengers jump back on and all is well until next time! At any given time of the day there are several of these trains spaced out along the route either slowly descending or chugging noisily uphill. Two thirds of the way up the mist descended, chilling us to the marrow and covering everything with a thin layer of moisture. Unfortunately, at this stage of our expedition we only had a few warm clothes left as we had streamlined our panniers by selling our excess clothing in Kathmandu. Not only were we cold and damp but we could not see the train! We had to be doubly alert, listening for the car traffic as well as the train, but how far does sound travel in fog? As long as the traffic was ascending we were relatively safe since we could hear the overburdened engines, but descending traffic could have easily wiped out and who would have known?
After a nerve racking eight hours we arrived in Ghoom, as cold and as miserable as the name suggests. By the time we cycled the last ten kilometers down to Darjeeling our hands were like blocks of ice and our bodies were in dire need of defrosting.We were just entering town when my back tire blew! Not only did the tyre blow in town but it blew right in front of a hotel.The Gods (or someone who looks after cyclists) must have been on our side as there was no way that we could have fixed the puncture in the frozen state that we were in. This tyre had lasted 3,300 kms since it was changed it in Pakistan 3 months ago. We were in no mood for the habitual bargaining so a room was secured promptly at an inflated price. After our bikes were safely ensconced in the room, we began the slow and painful process of defrosting.
This particular hotel did not have running hot water but buckets of this revitalising, steaming liquid were brought to our room one at a time. With clumsy, frozen hands we were somehow able to dilute the hot with the running cold and pour it over each other without scalding ourselves. Once our blood was again circulating through our veins we felt human once more. We didn't have the energy to clean our trusted cycles so after making up our bed with all the available blankets we went out to sample the local cuisine. Following a very pleasant meal and plenty of spice tea in the Washington Restaurant we retired to our bed of blankets and dreamed about sun drenched beaches on the tropical island of Koh Samui. This island lies off the east coast of Thailand and we were to be there in less than 3 weeks.
Darjeeling has seen many mountaineering expeditions pass through its tea plantations en route to the north side of Everest via Tibet, but with the opening of Nepal in 1950 and the closing of Tibet in the same year all the expeditions to the north side stopped. Everest, of course, was climbed three years later by a British expedition from the easier Nepalese side. Besides being the last town on the old route to Everest, Darjeeling was and still is the base for any attempts on Kanchenjunga (28,208ft), the world's third highest mountain and the most easterly of the Himalayan range. It was first climbed in 1956 by Joe Brown and George Band from a British party led by Charles Evans.The panorama of Kanchenjunga is clearly visible from Darjeeling and the best time to see it is naturally sunrise. Isn't it a strange phenomenom that all the tourist attractions are best seen at this ungodly hour? It is well worth the effort to climb the hill behind town and have an unobstructed view of the Himalayas from as far west as Everest and Makalu to the most easterly of the Kanchenjunga massif. For those too lazy to get out of bed the Y.H offers dormitory accommodation whose large north facing windows allow you to take photographs of the sunrise without even leaving your bed. Just make sure that you ask for a dormitory facing north
We spent our time in Darjeeling on foot as it made a welcome change from the saddle. Its a fascinating place to explore as it is built along a ridge and down one side of a hill. It can take a while to get anywhere in the town as the ridge is long and it is a steep climb from the bottom to the top. You can keep fit just doing your shopping or going to the post office. We paid a visit to the Mountaineering Institute, which was run by Sherpa Tenzing of Everest fame until his recent death. We also visited the zoo which is famous for having a rare Bengal Tiger as one of its residents. Dealing with Indian bureacracy is a nightmare and we spent the best part of a morning chasing a Sikkim permit which we had applied for in Kathmandu at least two months previous. You really have to apply for it several months before and be flexible about your entry date. As expected we never ever got to Sikkim so we spent the extra time inside in the warmth, drinking spice tea and admiring the panoramas.
On the third morning it was time to leave and we were up at dawn for the short initial uphill stretch to Ghoom. Although it was cold it was hot work pedalling the 10kms. From Ghoom it was all downhill but freewheeling down hill was not as easy as we had thought since the Indian roads were not designed for modern 10 speed touring bikes. It was quite a hazardous descent as we had to watch out for the rather large potholes, the train, the speeding drivers and the people who just wander along the road. We also had to take great care in crossing the train tracks as we could easily have skidded on the wet metal and ended up under the wheels of a Tata truck or bus. To make matters worse my front tyre,which had lasted me 7,000kms since I had put it on in Italy, gave up and we had to throw it away. Punctures were a rare occurrence for us and only happened when the tyre was paper thin and bald. We kept the tyres well pumped up to the correct pressure and rode sensibly. Between us we only wore out 14 tyres in the 17,000kms we cycled. Throughout the whole trip we maintained our trusted bikes with the thought that 'if you look after your bike then it will look after you.' Even with the puncture we still managed to descend in 2 hours what took us 9 hours to ascend and in fact, that day, we managed to cycle 160kms toward our next destination, Calcutta, which was still 650kms and 5 days away.
The day we arrived in Calcutta we managed to get ourselves into a traffic jam of cars, rickshaws, bullock carts, bicycles and people just going about their daily business. We just couldn't move as we were totally hemmed in - it took us nearly 3 hours of walking and cycling from the outskirts to Sudder Street where all the backpacking hotels are situated. Calcutta was a different story altogether from any other city we had been in and it didn't take us long to buy our airline ticket to Bangkok. Unfortunately we had to miss out on spending a week in Burma as we were running very low on funds. We were now in the tropical belt and for the next 6 weeks we were to cycle in the tropics of Thailand and Malaysia. The toy trains and the spice tea were to change into electric trains and iced coffee.
COLIN HOOD 22/2/88