Last night there was some cracker storms. We hope that it has used up all it's fury and that the day will be clear but the sky when we look out is still grey. Can only hope that it will hold for long enough for us to get some kms under our wheels. One of those wheels I note has a broken spoke. No prizes for which rim, but I am surprised that the reduced weight of Bob has been enough. Must be riding the BMC too hard.
The highway starts sketchily with sporadic sections of separated road but with only one side being used by vehicles. Sides vary and are not consistent and when you are just appreciating either the fine smooth tar or concrete surface the road section with either end or converge for a river crossing over the old bridge and lake size potholes. The sky to the north looks black grey, more angry than morose as we cross the border into Assam. At a police check post sitting to the side of rows and rows of parked freight trucks we are waved to the side. Guys just interested in the bikes. Few casual questions regarding what we are carrying. Just past them a large I am guessing public facility for the drivers including little bungalows on one side and weigh station, customs building on the other.
We make 4 to 5km before feel first drop of rain, not long before it increases to a light drizzle. We are waved towards a bus shelter on the side of the road by a couple of guys but are already past. Instead pull into a petrol station under construction and share the verandah with the couple who appear to be care taking the building for the time being. Not long after the rain kicks up a gear and is striking with force on the diagonal. We stand around trying to strike a conversation that can't really go anywhere because they have predominantly Hindi and we only have English and a little Nepali. After a while the rain eases a little and we decide that it is unlikely to completely stop any time soon so we might as well cycle on.
On the bikes and just down the road we come across a small road side dhaba. Decide we might as well have breakfast and sit out a little more of the storm. Whilst eating breakfast the storm intensifies into a roaring downpour on the tin roof. This is impressive stuff, I don't know how it could get any heavier without someone dropping the bucket with the water or a wave of water. A youngish guy from group of indian business types, comes over and strikes up a conversation. Gives us some detail in regard to the road ahead and we swap contact details.
Again the rain has settled a little so we don our shell wear (wet weather jackets) pull up the hoods and throw the bike helmets over the top. Feel a bit cocooned but gives you a feeling of separation from the weather. Life in the fast lane as surrounding traffic decreases in the rain. Continue to ride along the elevated road looking across fields with settled water some already planted with rice. The road is the same if not worse then this morning as the pot holes are now semi filled with water and the road grit begins collecting on the bikes cranks and chains. Slowly the bike orchestra gains volume as the accumulation continues.
Finally the rain eases, then stops and blue sky is for the first time clearly visible. Unfortunately the same issues due to the accumulation of surface water and continuing road work patches. Now that the rain has stopped the water sitting in the fields and in the semi completed traffic islands is reflecting mirror images of the sky and fields, it feels clean as we continue to roll towards the east.
Pass a larger clean looking river where on the banks we spot large open wooden fishing boats on the bank. Combined with the thatched houses it feels different to what we have seen so far in India.
Speak to a range of people from road workers, to guys cycling by, to villagers and passing drivers. Generally simple questioning, but followed with plenty of "welcome to india" etc. Really nice, even though at times keen to cycle on to make ground. Maaza and water is keeping us going with the occasional Good Day cookie filling the gap. We did have one left over banana from yesterday, but left the window open last night and a cunning bird had flown in and flogged it. We would not have realised apart from the rustling in the night and a bird poop on the coffee table this morning. I had thought rats or mice when I awoke and relocated the chocolate and the cookies. Forgot about the banana.
Stop after a bridge crossing to tape some frogs down in some lillie covered wetlands bordered by fields. There must be hundreds of them as the sound drowns out conversation and the sounds from the passing traffic.
A four wheel drive pulls over and we meet our first self declared Bhutanese. Interested in the bikes as one guy owns a Trek and the other did time in Singapore learning bike repair and maintenance. He also runs cycling tours in Bhutan. ( ) We communicate our disappointment as a result of our visa difficulties as they offer assistance should we decide to return.
Increased signage and monuments dedicated to the Bodoland movement. Will have to read further to understand the struggle and the issues as though I know it to be a relatively fresh and sometimes nasty struggle I am aware of little else. People here are a mixture of really dark skinned people like some west Bengalis or even people from Kerala and lighter more Asian (mongoloid) featured similar to Nepalis.
Huge oil refinery establishment on our left as we get closer towards a hill range standing out on the plains to our right. Joke about whether we have without realising turned somehow and seeing the foothills of Bhutan. Not long afterward three way main junction and traffic streaming to the right. Confirm that this is the way to Bon? our stop for the night. Not a moment too soon as Bum and Bikie breaks have increased in frequency.
Not far along we enter North Bon? where auto rickshaws increase in numbers and in unpredictable roadside stops. This leads to quite a bit of weaving in the traffic. Cross a railway overpass before reaching the main road of town. Review a couple before settling for the Raj Palace, recommended by a young Punjabi guy who we met outside one of the other Hotels. It is as good in setup and with much friendlier staff and better prices.
Shower off the grit in the cold only shower which starts quite warm. Such a fine feeling even though feet are granny wrinkled having sat in soaked socks for the majority of the day. Dinner in the hotel restaurant and the best naan since Uttrakhand. Stoked. Currys veg and non veg also very good. Staff a little worried as we order a ten cup pot of tea and a two litter mineral water. Very much needed though as both feeling in need of fluids. On the news a story about a train crash in Assam. Maybe we might travel back to Siliguri by bus.
Retire to our room where geckos are squeaking every now and again both inside and outside. Set up our mosquito net from the curtain rack to avoid using the wall plugged Mortein burner. Hoping for a good solid night sleep as another big day tomorrow with just over a hundred kms to be covered.
The highway starts sketchily with sporadic sections of separated road but with only one side being used by vehicles. Sides vary and are not consistent and when you are just appreciating either the fine smooth tar or concrete surface the road section with either end or converge for a river crossing over the old bridge and lake size potholes. The sky to the north looks black grey, more angry than morose as we cross the border into Assam. At a police check post sitting to the side of rows and rows of parked freight trucks we are waved to the side. Guys just interested in the bikes. Few casual questions regarding what we are carrying. Just past them a large I am guessing public facility for the drivers including little bungalows on one side and weigh station, customs building on the other.
We make 4 to 5km before feel first drop of rain, not long before it increases to a light drizzle. We are waved towards a bus shelter on the side of the road by a couple of guys but are already past. Instead pull into a petrol station under construction and share the verandah with the couple who appear to be care taking the building for the time being. Not long after the rain kicks up a gear and is striking with force on the diagonal. We stand around trying to strike a conversation that can't really go anywhere because they have predominantly Hindi and we only have English and a little Nepali. After a while the rain eases a little and we decide that it is unlikely to completely stop any time soon so we might as well cycle on.
On the bikes and just down the road we come across a small road side dhaba. Decide we might as well have breakfast and sit out a little more of the storm. Whilst eating breakfast the storm intensifies into a roaring downpour on the tin roof. This is impressive stuff, I don't know how it could get any heavier without someone dropping the bucket with the water or a wave of water. A youngish guy from group of indian business types, comes over and strikes up a conversation. Gives us some detail in regard to the road ahead and we swap contact details.
Again the rain has settled a little so we don our shell wear (wet weather jackets) pull up the hoods and throw the bike helmets over the top. Feel a bit cocooned but gives you a feeling of separation from the weather. Life in the fast lane as surrounding traffic decreases in the rain. Continue to ride along the elevated road looking across fields with settled water some already planted with rice. The road is the same if not worse then this morning as the pot holes are now semi filled with water and the road grit begins collecting on the bikes cranks and chains. Slowly the bike orchestra gains volume as the accumulation continues.
Finally the rain eases, then stops and blue sky is for the first time clearly visible. Unfortunately the same issues due to the accumulation of surface water and continuing road work patches. Now that the rain has stopped the water sitting in the fields and in the semi completed traffic islands is reflecting mirror images of the sky and fields, it feels clean as we continue to roll towards the east.
Pass a larger clean looking river where on the banks we spot large open wooden fishing boats on the bank. Combined with the thatched houses it feels different to what we have seen so far in India.
Speak to a range of people from road workers, to guys cycling by, to villagers and passing drivers. Generally simple questioning, but followed with plenty of "welcome to india" etc. Really nice, even though at times keen to cycle on to make ground. Maaza and water is keeping us going with the occasional Good Day cookie filling the gap. We did have one left over banana from yesterday, but left the window open last night and a cunning bird had flown in and flogged it. We would not have realised apart from the rustling in the night and a bird poop on the coffee table this morning. I had thought rats or mice when I awoke and relocated the chocolate and the cookies. Forgot about the banana.
Stop after a bridge crossing to tape some frogs down in some lillie covered wetlands bordered by fields. There must be hundreds of them as the sound drowns out conversation and the sounds from the passing traffic.
A four wheel drive pulls over and we meet our first self declared Bhutanese. Interested in the bikes as one guy owns a Trek and the other did time in Singapore learning bike repair and maintenance. He also runs cycling tours in Bhutan. ( ) We communicate our disappointment as a result of our visa difficulties as they offer assistance should we decide to return.
Increased signage and monuments dedicated to the Bodoland movement. Will have to read further to understand the struggle and the issues as though I know it to be a relatively fresh and sometimes nasty struggle I am aware of little else. People here are a mixture of really dark skinned people like some west Bengalis or even people from Kerala and lighter more Asian (mongoloid) featured similar to Nepalis.
Huge oil refinery establishment on our left as we get closer towards a hill range standing out on the plains to our right. Joke about whether we have without realising turned somehow and seeing the foothills of Bhutan. Not long afterward three way main junction and traffic streaming to the right. Confirm that this is the way to Bon? our stop for the night. Not a moment too soon as Bum and Bikie breaks have increased in frequency.
Not far along we enter North Bon? where auto rickshaws increase in numbers and in unpredictable roadside stops. This leads to quite a bit of weaving in the traffic. Cross a railway overpass before reaching the main road of town. Review a couple before settling for the Raj Palace, recommended by a young Punjabi guy who we met outside one of the other Hotels. It is as good in setup and with much friendlier staff and better prices.
Shower off the grit in the cold only shower which starts quite warm. Such a fine feeling even though feet are granny wrinkled having sat in soaked socks for the majority of the day. Dinner in the hotel restaurant and the best naan since Uttrakhand. Stoked. Currys veg and non veg also very good. Staff a little worried as we order a ten cup pot of tea and a two litter mineral water. Very much needed though as both feeling in need of fluids. On the news a story about a train crash in Assam. Maybe we might travel back to Siliguri by bus.
Retire to our room where geckos are squeaking every now and again both inside and outside. Set up our mosquito net from the curtain rack to avoid using the wall plugged Mortein burner. Hoping for a good solid night sleep as another big day tomorrow with just over a hundred kms to be covered.
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