What a day! A real carnival atmosphere kicked off the Run this morning in sweaty Goa, where so many fantastic creations were line up including an A-Team and a Dukes of Hazzard (complete with General Lee 5-tone horns). Eight and a half hours later and we’ve scaled a range of mountains – the West Ghats – with kamikaze truck drivers bearing down on our tiny little ‘bug’ at every turn, steep climbs and drops over boulder-strewn ‘roads’. We’ve driven our first – and hopefully last – night drive with wipers that don’t wipe, lights that barely light and roads where the centre dividing line is pure decoration – on the rare occasion they exist.
I chose to do all the driving today just because I’ve driven scooters and the theory is the same - and I don't know the girls well enough to entrust them with my life!
My biggest surprise was actually how generally comfortable the rickshaw was considering its rudimentary design – an upturned three-wheel dumpster. Eight hours later and not even a sponge backside.
But there were injuries. The major one happened at our very first attempt to start the rickshaw. Basically, you yank up a long handle which turns the 8hp engine over. I yanked and whacked my left elbow on the framework. 10 weeks of resting up from tennis elbow up the swanny! Nice swelling and stiffness now.
But if you can forget the pain, the sights and people – truckers, bikers, pedestrians – waving and honking at us is uplifting – not to forget some stunning lowland paddy fields we drove past at sunset.
A long, long way to go. 150km down and only 2350km remaining. We made a dent.
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