Wake early to the sounds of activity on the streets and in the hotel. Not surprising as with the power cutting out on a daily basis from around 9am to 5pm it pays to be an early bird. When we were doing the assessment round of hotels, I thought this one, Hotel Vishal (?) was going to be noisy as there were tents lining the opposite side of the street beyond which was a Stoney field through which the rail line ran. Tanakpur is the end of the narrow gauge line running North on the western side of Uttarakhand. All the northern lines in Uttarakhand also including Rishikesh, Kotdwar, Ramnagar, Kathgodam terminate before the Lower Himalaya begin. A multitude of buses and taxis take the load north from there. Goats and chickens run wild across the field.
Post loading the bikes we offload some cookies to the local beggar kids before hitting the 10km back to Banbasa and the road to the border. Fruit is better but more difficult to carry and access easily.
At Banbasa we turn following the signage to Mahendranagar on the Nepalese side of the border. Asked for the umpteenth time, "where are you going?", now resorting to hand signals of general direction. Cycle up onto a section of concrete post the rail line crossing. Lots of uncertainties running through our minds regarding the border situation and historical troubles on the Western Terai making us a little edgy as to the conditions, and reception. As a result we circle town twice, in the possibility of getting queries answered. Made more difficult by the uncertainty of who would be supplying the information and for what gain, further amplified by communication challenges.
We eventually commit and cycle straight through past some last street side stalls and through into a tree lined semi tarred road. Eyes wide open to spot the slightest sign of an immigration office, we also attempt to dodge the potty sections of the road and oncoming cyclists. For the size of town, Banbasa has quite a few cycle stores all relatively well stocked. Not sure whether for the Nepalese market or the nearby army bases. Concentrating on surroundings I get the faint and depressing feeling of a plushy rear tyre. Bugger, another flat in India. Pull over onto the side of the road and setup for as fast a repair as possible. Gather the usual crowd, but all goes well. No sign of cause and no desire to stuff around.
Predominantly pedestrian and cycle traffic passes as turning we leave the edge of the trees and ride alongside the river to our right. This is an arm of the Kali (or the Mahakali) river which forms much of the western border definition between India and Nepal. It flows swiftly and up ahead a semi river weir / bridge appears to direct. Our last cricket field before a hindi signed concrete post, with semi uniformed officials outside. They wave us through a small pedestrian gate to the side of the closed vehicle access identifying that immigration is across the bridge on the right. Research identified that the crossing was only open for vehicles between three hourly windows during the day, adding to our uncertainty of timing. People pool however around the pedestrian access predominantly on bikes, but also motorbikes. The experienced and regular squeezing through neatly with all sorts of strapped on luggage.
Across the weir another Hindi signed post but we are waved across a further bridge to our left, this time sharing the road with the odd car. Once across the bridge the semi tar ceases and a washed out pebble brick road commences. We had read in Tanakpur one blogger who wrote of the Mahendra highway identifying that it was a mess, with bumps, river crossings etc. They had elaborated to identify that the Nepalese government had tendered for the construction and that initially a Chinese group had been successful but post a complaint by the Indian government concerned post the 1962 troubles a revised Indian bid was approved. They had identified that the commencement of the construction was to start around the time of the blog, and so no doubt would be complete by another date I cannot recall. Whether legit or not this popped into our minds the Bro signed slogan from Srinagar, "eager to last, then why fast".
Excellent, sign in english and hindi identifying Indian immigration building. Group of men outside in the sun who we pass to take a seat in front of an office desk sitting on the verandah. Non uniformed guy, proficient yet relaxed leads us through the exit paperwork. We also study the notice identifying that the Nepalese will fine and confiscate for the carrying across the border of Indian rupee notes of either 500 or 1000 denominations. We had read earlier of this via smartraveller and were uncertain whether due to formal reasons or not. This however had definitely impacted upon our carrying of funds as there was only one legit bank that converted INR to NPR and concern of confiscation had lead to our negating our rupees. (500 INR is only approx 12AUD) The Indian customs officer however identified that confiscation was only targeted at those carrying Lakh of the denominations therefore we would not have been fined.
In India we had noticed banks and other government locations had given warnings regarding counterfeit 500 rup notes. Every now and then officious shopkeepers had done the check, but this was impacted upon by how dodgy you looked also. We had met one guy who said he had been stuck with a few but an outing at a nightclub had passed the burden on. His ethic was that this was a legitimate process as long as the the potential receiver had deep pockets.
From the immigration office we rolled along the side of an irrigation ditch for 500mtrs or so before turning across a small bridge and past our first village stores in Nepal. As we trundled across the bridge in front a troop of red and white uniformed school children were marching along lead by a boy carrying the twin triangle flag of Nepal. Riding past we climbed up onto a road that ceased with a drop-off and onto the start of the tarred Mahendra highway. The gardened Nepalese immigration office to our left was clearly signed and further distinguished by two elephants standing out the front and a bit of a village sing sing in process.
We started the sign in process and all went smoothly to the payment part, where we identified travellers chqs and visa which they had no facility to receive and were looking for USD or equivalent in cash. We were working through our options when a suited official came in and post welcoming us to Nepal identified that we were very lucky as 2011 was Nepal Tourism Year and we were the first tourists through for the local opening. Further if we had time they would like us to be involved in the welcoming ceremony. Given that we were not yet official it would have been hard to refuse even if we had wanted to....Soph was keen to join in the celebration!
Once we confirmed that we would be honored to be involved we shook numerous hands followed by repeated application of copious quantities of red dust on our foreheads then to top it off, local traditional caps. Unfortunately one size fits all and so my hat positioned itself on my hair versus my head. The paper and tv press were all lined up throughout the procedures. Overwhelmed and in a state of mild reeling we were directed each to a seated elephant, upon whom mounting was achieved via scrambling up their rear legs to position ourselves behind the elephant's nepalese pilot. Soph scored a baby elephant, versus I the adult. This in addition to height affected the ease with which one straddled the back and waking in the morning I had obviously failed to prewarn my pelvis.
Therefore dressed in riding clothes (both in shorts under which long tights), unshaven, raggish unwashed hair, foreheads marked as if we had been repeatedly head banged we rode the km to the ceremony along the highway waving occasionally to the bemused locals. The march was lead by local police followed by traditional drum and dancers, then the school troop, elephants, officials etc. The procession left the highway turning into what appeared to be a newly completed small thatched hotel and restaurant complex overwhelmed by a massive marriage tent on the side.
We dismounted, and were invited to seats in the tent together with the officials. Beyond which the villagers and crowd crowded to watch proceedings. Speeches began and drinks and paneer pakora served. After several, I was approached and asked whether I would be happy to speak. I clarified that anything I said would be in English but that if they were fine with that then I would be happy to. Quickly working up a potential speech, we were again approached and invited to have lunch. Assuming that everyone was heading off to lunch we moved off, behind the ongoing speaker and were seated in the new restaurant and provided with lamb curry, pakora, juice and coffee.
The immigration official identified that one of us should stay and the other would be taken to Mahendranagar to access a bank. Soph therefore returned to the speeches and I jumped on the back of the immigration officers motorbike and rode into town still marked by hat in pocket. At the ATM thankfully the card worked fine and we turned around and headed back to the celebration to pick up Soph. Wandering in and searching for Soph I eventually locate her hidden behind a swarm of smiling red and white school children. Detaching post farewells and thank yous we both remounted the motorbike and returned the 1km further to the immigration office.
Legitimately a Nepalese tourist we grabbed the bikes and recovered the 9km to Mahendrnagar. Cycling around to scope out town and the hotels we were quickly picked up by a local crew on bikes, one in particular whose questioning stretched into annoying areas such as what was in our bags and were we carrying other currencies. We eventually lost the interest of our overly curious friend and decided on a hotel, Sweet Dreams just off the highway on the northern end of town.
After hanging out and attempting to remove our face paint we walked back into town and to the Hotel Opera. Classiest hotel and location of a casino we settled into a locally expensive but generous meal. In interest we added a chocolate lassi for Soph and a Tuborg deluxe for me. At 220 rup it seemed expensive but having visited the factory in Denmark too good to pass up, however when the beer turned up it was around 650mls and for one who has drunk very little of late a challenge.
Back to the hotel along the dark road, we turn in on a very unexpected day.
Post loading the bikes we offload some cookies to the local beggar kids before hitting the 10km back to Banbasa and the road to the border. Fruit is better but more difficult to carry and access easily.
At Banbasa we turn following the signage to Mahendranagar on the Nepalese side of the border. Asked for the umpteenth time, "where are you going?", now resorting to hand signals of general direction. Cycle up onto a section of concrete post the rail line crossing. Lots of uncertainties running through our minds regarding the border situation and historical troubles on the Western Terai making us a little edgy as to the conditions, and reception. As a result we circle town twice, in the possibility of getting queries answered. Made more difficult by the uncertainty of who would be supplying the information and for what gain, further amplified by communication challenges.
We eventually commit and cycle straight through past some last street side stalls and through into a tree lined semi tarred road. Eyes wide open to spot the slightest sign of an immigration office, we also attempt to dodge the potty sections of the road and oncoming cyclists. For the size of town, Banbasa has quite a few cycle stores all relatively well stocked. Not sure whether for the Nepalese market or the nearby army bases. Concentrating on surroundings I get the faint and depressing feeling of a plushy rear tyre. Bugger, another flat in India. Pull over onto the side of the road and setup for as fast a repair as possible. Gather the usual crowd, but all goes well. No sign of cause and no desire to stuff around.
Predominantly pedestrian and cycle traffic passes as turning we leave the edge of the trees and ride alongside the river to our right. This is an arm of the Kali (or the Mahakali) river which forms much of the western border definition between India and Nepal. It flows swiftly and up ahead a semi river weir / bridge appears to direct. Our last cricket field before a hindi signed concrete post, with semi uniformed officials outside. They wave us through a small pedestrian gate to the side of the closed vehicle access identifying that immigration is across the bridge on the right. Research identified that the crossing was only open for vehicles between three hourly windows during the day, adding to our uncertainty of timing. People pool however around the pedestrian access predominantly on bikes, but also motorbikes. The experienced and regular squeezing through neatly with all sorts of strapped on luggage.
Across the weir another Hindi signed post but we are waved across a further bridge to our left, this time sharing the road with the odd car. Once across the bridge the semi tar ceases and a washed out pebble brick road commences. We had read in Tanakpur one blogger who wrote of the Mahendra highway identifying that it was a mess, with bumps, river crossings etc. They had elaborated to identify that the Nepalese government had tendered for the construction and that initially a Chinese group had been successful but post a complaint by the Indian government concerned post the 1962 troubles a revised Indian bid was approved. They had identified that the commencement of the construction was to start around the time of the blog, and so no doubt would be complete by another date I cannot recall. Whether legit or not this popped into our minds the Bro signed slogan from Srinagar, "eager to last, then why fast".
Excellent, sign in english and hindi identifying Indian immigration building. Group of men outside in the sun who we pass to take a seat in front of an office desk sitting on the verandah. Non uniformed guy, proficient yet relaxed leads us through the exit paperwork. We also study the notice identifying that the Nepalese will fine and confiscate for the carrying across the border of Indian rupee notes of either 500 or 1000 denominations. We had read earlier of this via smartraveller and were uncertain whether due to formal reasons or not. This however had definitely impacted upon our carrying of funds as there was only one legit bank that converted INR to NPR and concern of confiscation had lead to our negating our rupees. (500 INR is only approx 12AUD) The Indian customs officer however identified that confiscation was only targeted at those carrying Lakh of the denominations therefore we would not have been fined.
In India we had noticed banks and other government locations had given warnings regarding counterfeit 500 rup notes. Every now and then officious shopkeepers had done the check, but this was impacted upon by how dodgy you looked also. We had met one guy who said he had been stuck with a few but an outing at a nightclub had passed the burden on. His ethic was that this was a legitimate process as long as the the potential receiver had deep pockets.
From the immigration office we rolled along the side of an irrigation ditch for 500mtrs or so before turning across a small bridge and past our first village stores in Nepal. As we trundled across the bridge in front a troop of red and white uniformed school children were marching along lead by a boy carrying the twin triangle flag of Nepal. Riding past we climbed up onto a road that ceased with a drop-off and onto the start of the tarred Mahendra highway. The gardened Nepalese immigration office to our left was clearly signed and further distinguished by two elephants standing out the front and a bit of a village sing sing in process.
We started the sign in process and all went smoothly to the payment part, where we identified travellers chqs and visa which they had no facility to receive and were looking for USD or equivalent in cash. We were working through our options when a suited official came in and post welcoming us to Nepal identified that we were very lucky as 2011 was Nepal Tourism Year and we were the first tourists through for the local opening. Further if we had time they would like us to be involved in the welcoming ceremony. Given that we were not yet official it would have been hard to refuse even if we had wanted to....Soph was keen to join in the celebration!
 |
| From Nepal, Terai. January 2011 |
Once we confirmed that we would be honored to be involved we shook numerous hands followed by repeated application of copious quantities of red dust on our foreheads then to top it off, local traditional caps. Unfortunately one size fits all and so my hat positioned itself on my hair versus my head. The paper and tv press were all lined up throughout the procedures. Overwhelmed and in a state of mild reeling we were directed each to a seated elephant, upon whom mounting was achieved via scrambling up their rear legs to position ourselves behind the elephant's nepalese pilot. Soph scored a baby elephant, versus I the adult. This in addition to height affected the ease with which one straddled the back and waking in the morning I had obviously failed to prewarn my pelvis.
 |
| From Nepal, Terai. January 2011 |
Therefore dressed in riding clothes (both in shorts under which long tights), unshaven, raggish unwashed hair, foreheads marked as if we had been repeatedly head banged we rode the km to the ceremony along the highway waving occasionally to the bemused locals. The march was lead by local police followed by traditional drum and dancers, then the school troop, elephants, officials etc. The procession left the highway turning into what appeared to be a newly completed small thatched hotel and restaurant complex overwhelmed by a massive marriage tent on the side.
We dismounted, and were invited to seats in the tent together with the officials. Beyond which the villagers and crowd crowded to watch proceedings. Speeches began and drinks and paneer pakora served. After several, I was approached and asked whether I would be happy to speak. I clarified that anything I said would be in English but that if they were fine with that then I would be happy to. Quickly working up a potential speech, we were again approached and invited to have lunch. Assuming that everyone was heading off to lunch we moved off, behind the ongoing speaker and were seated in the new restaurant and provided with lamb curry, pakora, juice and coffee.
The immigration official identified that one of us should stay and the other would be taken to Mahendranagar to access a bank. Soph therefore returned to the speeches and I jumped on the back of the immigration officers motorbike and rode into town still marked by hat in pocket. At the ATM thankfully the card worked fine and we turned around and headed back to the celebration to pick up Soph. Wandering in and searching for Soph I eventually locate her hidden behind a swarm of smiling red and white school children. Detaching post farewells and thank yous we both remounted the motorbike and returned the 1km further to the immigration office.
Legitimately a Nepalese tourist we grabbed the bikes and recovered the 9km to Mahendrnagar. Cycling around to scope out town and the hotels we were quickly picked up by a local crew on bikes, one in particular whose questioning stretched into annoying areas such as what was in our bags and were we carrying other currencies. We eventually lost the interest of our overly curious friend and decided on a hotel, Sweet Dreams just off the highway on the northern end of town.
After hanging out and attempting to remove our face paint we walked back into town and to the Hotel Opera. Classiest hotel and location of a casino we settled into a locally expensive but generous meal. In interest we added a chocolate lassi for Soph and a Tuborg deluxe for me. At 220 rup it seemed expensive but having visited the factory in Denmark too good to pass up, however when the beer turned up it was around 650mls and for one who has drunk very little of late a challenge.
Back to the hotel along the dark road, we turn in on a very unexpected day.
 |
| From Nepal, Terai. January 2011 |