Sleep in, appreciating the generator power happening quietly somewhere in the vicinity. Appreciated a short sharp storm during the night, which has dampened slightly the heat. Breakfast at the hotel restaurant to achieve diet diversity. Poached eggs on toast goes down well. The food at the Vishal has been great and though run down in some aspects of appearance the core elements of a good stay have all been fulfilled. The peacock in the garden out the back was an unusual addition and suprisingly quiet in the morning. Maybe they are vocal only when held in pairs.
Pull the bikes out from behind the UN white four wheel drive also in the car park near the garden. Two older indian appearing ladies in saris watch our preparations whilst adding the occasional comment to each other. Serious looking but when engaged faces break into white gleaming smiles and eyes flash.
Onto the streets and quickly join the flow of traffic heading further east along the Mahendra (Highway) Rajmarg. Not far out of town we cross wide broad river flats, again predominantly pebbles and river rocks. The road remains beautifully tarred and the weather though hot also has a pleasant breeze. To the left we follow a closer range of small craggy dry looking hills, with spotted light green tree cover. Legs feeling much better and comfortably operating in the heat.
Consistent with yesterday we share the road with far more cycles and pedestrians than cars. You can guarantee that if you cycle past a few younger guys with bikes (Hero cycles) a couple of minutes later you will hear a squeak or slight metal vibration from behind then they will pass. The younger often fishtailing wildly in front then looking over their shoulders to ensure that you have appreciated their display. The older guys might cast a slight gaze but will carry on unto often you pass them further along the road having resumed their normal pace. The young guys, having flashed smiles post your smile at their display, generally either cut a u turn or divert off the road crazily with well sprung seats absorbing much of their road bank energy. Even the odd young couple will pass, with the guy cycling furiously and the sari draped girl sitting sidesaddle on the back rack. One girl gives the look of a sigh of recurrence as they pass, with little other movement betraying the sudden speed or swerve back across once in front.
Mid morning pull in for a cold mineral water refill but finding none settle for soft drink. When I come back from buying the drinks Sophie, holding her bike under the shade of a large tree is surrounded by a small crowd, with one bright eyed young girl and an older man interpreting various questions. The usuals were all covered; where from? Husband? For what purpose your trip? How long in Nepal? Children? How long married? (with very questioning looks follow no to the children question) Where going to? How much the cycle cost? What do you think of Nepal? It is difficult to break her away having returned the bottles, with the little girl repeatedly asking expectantly but positively (rather than desperately), you again come? On returning to the road the girl crosses over the highway and runs alongside for twenty metres calling out "you come again, you come again!?"
Pass over several large river beds again predominantly visually dry. Some serious water obviously flows down through these parts during monsoon time. Sections increasingly shaded by tree lined road, almost a spiritually refreshing experience as we approach Kanchanpur. The road from here does a dog leg south to deviate around the Kosi Tappu Wildlife Reserve, described as a bird lovers treat with a huge diversity of resident and visiting migratory birds.
Stop in town under a peepal tree and sit next to a goat on the concrete covered seat encircling it's base for what I now class as a bum break. Not long before we attract another large crowd and rerun the questions. One older guy attempts very seriously to give us directions to illam which appear consistent with the information contained in our map in his hands. Regardless it was his time in the light and he enjoyed reiterating the directions several times.
On the way out of town Soph pulls up as a result of her first flat tire. Though feeling partially vindicated that it was not just my poor luck to have a flat, this was quickly eroded by the change, slowed by the attempted use of a previously patched tube which again quickly deflated. In the cool and with just each other to work through the change over this is not a major hassle, just a waste of time, but when you are surrounded by a group of inquisitive people of all ages in the midday heat, many deep breaths are expelled. Best to be cool and take the interest and occasional squeeze of the tire as you are attempting to reinflate it in humor.
Next time I will get one of the onlookers to pump as they no doubt would do and be excited at being asked. Take care with the gear being opened and where placed, but there is internal crowd control maintained by various members and so partially mitigated risk of something going missing. Still it's best to be relatively organised, just not uptight. Should anyone however come near the hand brake of the removed wheel that is another story. (hydraulic disk brakes) Have taken to putting the valve cap as a spacer between the pads to reduce the risk of non intentioned closure.
The next stretch of highway heading due south felt hot and a bit no frills. By this stage our backsides had accumulated soreness and no amount of relocating would deny the fact that the bruising is increasing. As a result every km or so involves a slight readjustment on the seat or quick stand on the peddles. Every now and again I look at the 5cm thick sprung saddles on the Hero bikes and sigh. Maybe next cycle tour. Joined by a maths teacher cycling back to the secondary school at which he taught in Bhardaha. Gave a little distraction from the pain.
Rolled into Bhardaha and the junction town retained our prior road sentiments. Though a large Hindi temple before cresting the embankment across the flood plain to the Sapt river there did not to be any standout food options and the heat was radiating off the road. Settled on ice cold (water) supplied at a small party supplies store. The guys running it though initially a little scary, thanks to their red stained teeth (the result of chewing bettlenut) were really nice and even turned on a small fan for us as we sat on their sole bench seat. After their confirmation of our identity as Australian they commiserated at us regarding the Australian cricket side and Ricky Ponting. Neither of us being overly aware as to the matches nor the individuals who had played in the world cup.
Goodbyes to our cheek filled chewing red lipped smiling crew and heading back into the heat we crested the river dyke running now South across the floodplains and than the large and flowing Sapt Kosi. One of the feeding tributaries to which was the Sun Kosi, which we turned south from at Kurkot. This is a big river, not as fundamental or inspiring as the Mississippi but just as brown and possibly as wide. In 2008 this river flooded in a big way and resulted in huge loss across the floodplains both here and further south in Bihar India. The flood plains at present are full of agriculture with sunflowers, corn, maize, wheat and other crops all looking very healthy in the sun. Water buffalo were wallowing in small pools of trapped water looking very satisfied. Locals were sheltering under either tree cover or hand held umbrellas. Very Gandhiesque especially given some male attire of loose long shirt and loincloth.
A small s bend before rolling onto the bridge itself which is on one side of a long line of drop gates regulating the flow further south. Maintenance work is underway as we roll across on some of the large gates and their haulage systems. Small cluster of huts at the far end before swinging left heading North. Bhantabari, which is as close to the border as we come without actually crossing the border.
The road north commences well but soon descends into patches of tar and then stretches of almost fire road. Though a little slower it gives my mind a diversion from my backside.
Pull into Inarwa, top up on fluids and salt (twisty style packaged snacks with masal flavoring which we decided in the heat were a better option than if we could find samosa which would no doubt be spicy..in the heat we have both gone off eating a spicy lunch instead craving fresh food. The twisties were a nice alternative though) before pushing on. We rolled in next to a quiet little drinks and food store on a green patch in the shade. The store owner promptly bought out two chairs for us to relax on with smiles. It is now 4.30pm and the road sides are increasingly full of people on the move. It is actually a really nice time of day to ride and we would have appreciated it so much more if we had been a little less trashed. Enter Jumka which also feels quite nice with a strong flowing river passing through town. Soph has a vehicle pull up alongside (pushing her onto the rougher gravel side which at this time of the ride is not pleasant for the tired limbs) with a male voice calling namaste, namaste. She later admits to feeling the urge of telling the person to bugger off but held back. A second latter, "oh I can see you are concentrating on driving". Turns out to be a white guy driving a left hand drive van, when she apologizes and identifies that we were heading for Itahari he identifies that he will see us there.
Outer sprawl, but orderly and comparatively clean. Then cluster of larger buildings in the centre of town and we swing left at the main junction and find shelter under some trees on a concrete pavement. Itahari seems prosperous and is located on the junction between Dharan a large town to the north and Biratnagar (Nepals second most populated city) to the south 6kms from the indian border. Soph does the honors and goes inquiring after good accomodation whilst I hold the bikes. She is directed to a place pretty much straight in front of us up an alleyway.
The Herritage Guesthouse, next to the interestingly named Oh my dear Hotel (not sure what's going on there). New and clean it is a much appreciated flake out choice, slightly more expensive, but still reasonable. Power comes on at 6pm but seems inconsistent. Everytime you settle into watching anything on tv and get absorbed the power drops out. Have dal bhaat in our room and it is fantastic. Not long after finishing a sudden ferocious storm hits and we relocate our bikes into the stairwell away from the driving rain and wind. Bed resting our tired bodies, especially backsides.
Pull the bikes out from behind the UN white four wheel drive also in the car park near the garden. Two older indian appearing ladies in saris watch our preparations whilst adding the occasional comment to each other. Serious looking but when engaged faces break into white gleaming smiles and eyes flash.
Onto the streets and quickly join the flow of traffic heading further east along the Mahendra (Highway) Rajmarg. Not far out of town we cross wide broad river flats, again predominantly pebbles and river rocks. The road remains beautifully tarred and the weather though hot also has a pleasant breeze. To the left we follow a closer range of small craggy dry looking hills, with spotted light green tree cover. Legs feeling much better and comfortably operating in the heat.
Consistent with yesterday we share the road with far more cycles and pedestrians than cars. You can guarantee that if you cycle past a few younger guys with bikes (Hero cycles) a couple of minutes later you will hear a squeak or slight metal vibration from behind then they will pass. The younger often fishtailing wildly in front then looking over their shoulders to ensure that you have appreciated their display. The older guys might cast a slight gaze but will carry on unto often you pass them further along the road having resumed their normal pace. The young guys, having flashed smiles post your smile at their display, generally either cut a u turn or divert off the road crazily with well sprung seats absorbing much of their road bank energy. Even the odd young couple will pass, with the guy cycling furiously and the sari draped girl sitting sidesaddle on the back rack. One girl gives the look of a sigh of recurrence as they pass, with little other movement betraying the sudden speed or swerve back across once in front.
Mid morning pull in for a cold mineral water refill but finding none settle for soft drink. When I come back from buying the drinks Sophie, holding her bike under the shade of a large tree is surrounded by a small crowd, with one bright eyed young girl and an older man interpreting various questions. The usuals were all covered; where from? Husband? For what purpose your trip? How long in Nepal? Children? How long married? (with very questioning looks follow no to the children question) Where going to? How much the cycle cost? What do you think of Nepal? It is difficult to break her away having returned the bottles, with the little girl repeatedly asking expectantly but positively (rather than desperately), you again come? On returning to the road the girl crosses over the highway and runs alongside for twenty metres calling out "you come again, you come again!?"
Pass over several large river beds again predominantly visually dry. Some serious water obviously flows down through these parts during monsoon time. Sections increasingly shaded by tree lined road, almost a spiritually refreshing experience as we approach Kanchanpur. The road from here does a dog leg south to deviate around the Kosi Tappu Wildlife Reserve, described as a bird lovers treat with a huge diversity of resident and visiting migratory birds.
Stop in town under a peepal tree and sit next to a goat on the concrete covered seat encircling it's base for what I now class as a bum break. Not long before we attract another large crowd and rerun the questions. One older guy attempts very seriously to give us directions to illam which appear consistent with the information contained in our map in his hands. Regardless it was his time in the light and he enjoyed reiterating the directions several times.
On the way out of town Soph pulls up as a result of her first flat tire. Though feeling partially vindicated that it was not just my poor luck to have a flat, this was quickly eroded by the change, slowed by the attempted use of a previously patched tube which again quickly deflated. In the cool and with just each other to work through the change over this is not a major hassle, just a waste of time, but when you are surrounded by a group of inquisitive people of all ages in the midday heat, many deep breaths are expelled. Best to be cool and take the interest and occasional squeeze of the tire as you are attempting to reinflate it in humor.
Next time I will get one of the onlookers to pump as they no doubt would do and be excited at being asked. Take care with the gear being opened and where placed, but there is internal crowd control maintained by various members and so partially mitigated risk of something going missing. Still it's best to be relatively organised, just not uptight. Should anyone however come near the hand brake of the removed wheel that is another story. (hydraulic disk brakes) Have taken to putting the valve cap as a spacer between the pads to reduce the risk of non intentioned closure.
The next stretch of highway heading due south felt hot and a bit no frills. By this stage our backsides had accumulated soreness and no amount of relocating would deny the fact that the bruising is increasing. As a result every km or so involves a slight readjustment on the seat or quick stand on the peddles. Every now and again I look at the 5cm thick sprung saddles on the Hero bikes and sigh. Maybe next cycle tour. Joined by a maths teacher cycling back to the secondary school at which he taught in Bhardaha. Gave a little distraction from the pain.
Rolled into Bhardaha and the junction town retained our prior road sentiments. Though a large Hindi temple before cresting the embankment across the flood plain to the Sapt river there did not to be any standout food options and the heat was radiating off the road. Settled on ice cold (water) supplied at a small party supplies store. The guys running it though initially a little scary, thanks to their red stained teeth (the result of chewing bettlenut) were really nice and even turned on a small fan for us as we sat on their sole bench seat. After their confirmation of our identity as Australian they commiserated at us regarding the Australian cricket side and Ricky Ponting. Neither of us being overly aware as to the matches nor the individuals who had played in the world cup.
Goodbyes to our cheek filled chewing red lipped smiling crew and heading back into the heat we crested the river dyke running now South across the floodplains and than the large and flowing Sapt Kosi. One of the feeding tributaries to which was the Sun Kosi, which we turned south from at Kurkot. This is a big river, not as fundamental or inspiring as the Mississippi but just as brown and possibly as wide. In 2008 this river flooded in a big way and resulted in huge loss across the floodplains both here and further south in Bihar India. The flood plains at present are full of agriculture with sunflowers, corn, maize, wheat and other crops all looking very healthy in the sun. Water buffalo were wallowing in small pools of trapped water looking very satisfied. Locals were sheltering under either tree cover or hand held umbrellas. Very Gandhiesque especially given some male attire of loose long shirt and loincloth.
A small s bend before rolling onto the bridge itself which is on one side of a long line of drop gates regulating the flow further south. Maintenance work is underway as we roll across on some of the large gates and their haulage systems. Small cluster of huts at the far end before swinging left heading North. Bhantabari, which is as close to the border as we come without actually crossing the border.
The road north commences well but soon descends into patches of tar and then stretches of almost fire road. Though a little slower it gives my mind a diversion from my backside.
Pull into Inarwa, top up on fluids and salt (twisty style packaged snacks with masal flavoring which we decided in the heat were a better option than if we could find samosa which would no doubt be spicy..in the heat we have both gone off eating a spicy lunch instead craving fresh food. The twisties were a nice alternative though) before pushing on. We rolled in next to a quiet little drinks and food store on a green patch in the shade. The store owner promptly bought out two chairs for us to relax on with smiles. It is now 4.30pm and the road sides are increasingly full of people on the move. It is actually a really nice time of day to ride and we would have appreciated it so much more if we had been a little less trashed. Enter Jumka which also feels quite nice with a strong flowing river passing through town. Soph has a vehicle pull up alongside (pushing her onto the rougher gravel side which at this time of the ride is not pleasant for the tired limbs) with a male voice calling namaste, namaste. She later admits to feeling the urge of telling the person to bugger off but held back. A second latter, "oh I can see you are concentrating on driving". Turns out to be a white guy driving a left hand drive van, when she apologizes and identifies that we were heading for Itahari he identifies that he will see us there.
Outer sprawl, but orderly and comparatively clean. Then cluster of larger buildings in the centre of town and we swing left at the main junction and find shelter under some trees on a concrete pavement. Itahari seems prosperous and is located on the junction between Dharan a large town to the north and Biratnagar (Nepals second most populated city) to the south 6kms from the indian border. Soph does the honors and goes inquiring after good accomodation whilst I hold the bikes. She is directed to a place pretty much straight in front of us up an alleyway.
The Herritage Guesthouse, next to the interestingly named Oh my dear Hotel (not sure what's going on there). New and clean it is a much appreciated flake out choice, slightly more expensive, but still reasonable. Power comes on at 6pm but seems inconsistent. Everytime you settle into watching anything on tv and get absorbed the power drops out. Have dal bhaat in our room and it is fantastic. Not long after finishing a sudden ferocious storm hits and we relocate our bikes into the stairwell away from the driving rain and wind. Bed resting our tired bodies, especially backsides.
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| Eastern Terai, Nepal. April 2011 |
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