What a night! The morning after possibly the most spectacular lightning storm I’ve ever witnessed. At 3am the sky lit up again and again as lighting bolts strobed across the sky and explosive cracks ripped through the hiss of pelting sheet rain. My first thought apart from ‘how absolutely ****ing amazing!’ was ‘ah, torrential rain and mountain drives in a rickshaw don’t usually mix too well’.
We had debated the best route to the finish line in Pohkara – of which there are only two: the safe, long 244km road, and the mountainous 150km pass. As dawn broke the drizzle was still hanging in the air and grey clouds hinted at the possibility of another deluge. We held off our decision until after our visit to Buddha’s birthplace which, we discovered after driving to the gates, was about a minutes walk from our hotel.
I’m not a spiritual person but as with Varanasi and the Ganges I hoped to feel something from visiting Lumbhini and the ruins of the monasteries built between 3 and 20AD. Even entering the very building where a case stating ‘The Birthplace of Buddha’ and in which monks and other pilgrims sat cross-legged and chanted, I was more moved by their commitment to a theology – for want of a better term – than any mystical feeling of spirituality. Maybe I’m just too cynical or rational, even though I agree completely with the teachings of Buddha.
Having bought a singing bowl and a Buddha bust for my wife (I hope this blog goes up after I get back), we reconsidered our route. Locals seemed to confirm that the mountain pass was perfectly suited to our little rickshaw, and as time was of the essence we bit the bullet and headed ever upward. We weren’t quite sure how wise that decision had been when, within the first five minutes, we were reversing up a muddy single lane track to allow a much larger bus and ornately painted truck through. Several tail slides and sections of potholed road later and like a baptism of fire, we were blessed with smooth asphalt which laced its way around the contours of the Himalayan foothills.
With just a 120km stretch to take us to the finish line, we decided to call it a day just outside the small town of Tansen, having wound our way through rocky, tropical terrain and sheer drop-offs with forests of slender trees offering a shadowy canopy to shelter us from the unadulterated rays of the afternoon sun. Through every roadside settlement we drove, we were met with smiles and waves more genuine than even on our travels through India. No tourist brochure could ever capture the warmth of these people and they have a physical beauty that is very enchanting.
We arrive at our hotel in clear, pure daylight and for the first time sit, relax, drink and eat, feeling as if we are on top of the world. But I would really have liked to share the moment of looking out over the distant mountains with my wife. But not long now. I'm counting down the hours to the finish.
We also learned – against all our information and calculations – that we would be a day late, and that the finishing party was going to be tonight. Bugger! Although given the choice of relaxing up here or getting pissed down there, I think I'd choose here. Tomorrow’s final leg is just hours away and we have a very good feeling about what the day will hold for us.
No comments:
Post a Comment