DAY TWO - BELGAUM TO BIJAPUR

My wife’s birthday and I’m somewhere far, far away approaching the heartland of India. Following the hazardous mountain terrain of yesterday, we set off in the morning with higher distance ambitions as we knew the roads would be a lot better and we’d be driving on generally flat terrain between sugar cane plantations and paddy fields. Today was also Shelley’s initiation day as a rickshaw walla and, to be honest, she grabbed the bull by the horns and gave it a really good go. Having never even ridden a scooter, driving a top heavy tuk tuk on Indian public highways was no mean feat. (We’ll see how Katie handles the challenge tomorrow and if we’re still alive to continues this blog.)

There were times – generally approaching and driving through the towns on our route, that I still took over the handlebars because avoiding cattle, goats, dogs, pigs, motorbikes, buses, trucks and other rickshaws is not easy – especially on your first day.

But it was in the towns that we got some fantastic gestures of welcome. On our arrival in Lokapur we pulled over to allow the camera crew to set up further in town and we were instantly ‘mobbed’ by thirty or so smiling faces, extending their hands to shake ours. We were offered the sweet, milky tea (which was right up my street) and some who spoke broken English asked where we were from.

As the camera crew waited at the thronging main junction of what must have been the market day for this town, we eventually extricated ourselves from the smiling crowd, waving, and drove on.

Again we attracted a host of interest in Mudhol while we were filming a brief update on our progress. But it was great to be the subject of their enthusiasm. Many of these towns on any western continent would be called ‘slums’ – and there’s no doubt that hygiene and other things we take for granted are daily issues for these people – but they are always friendly.

Again we came across another group of ‘runners’ who had engine troubles and were being overseen by a swami-looking guy standing in the middle of the road directing traffic and trying to cadge a fag.

We finally rolled into Bijapur – in daylight – and saw the Gol Gumbaz mausoleum dominate the semi-industrial horizon. But to see it up close is stunning – not because it is pristine and overly ornate, but because it has an ageing grandeur and gradual decay which gives it a real historical perspective.

On a general note, the sunburnt forehead now feels like dry leather and the elbow is still swollen and turning blue. At least I’m not suffering from the ‘squits’ like Katie.

Having driven for fewer hours and covered more miles than yesterday, even on day 2 we can see we’re making a dent in this marathon journey.