The next stop on my ride East placed me at Moradabad. I quickly found a simple room close to the main railway station on Budh Bazar Road. Cheap and clean; Hotel Pankaj was the perfect place for me to roll in with my bike.

I took a little time to walk around the city. It is known as the ‘city of brass’. I tried unsuccessfully to find brass items. Moradabad also boasts of being the greatest exporter of textiles. However I think much of this business is undertaken in large warehouses away from the public gaze. However it is a colourful city with a vibrant market and atmosphere.

Interestingly an area behind my hotel had a wonderful old house and the owner was very happy for to to photograph the grand entrance. Also the whole area in front was filled with cannabis. I had seen it growing in large amounts all along the highway. It is a common weed but surprised to see so much in the centre of a large city.

My search for the brass was fruitless. But almost opposite my hotel was a Royal Enfield mototcycle showroom. Proudly displayed outside was an early 80s example. I met the manager and enquired about the price. He told me that it was ‘not for sale’

The only disappointment with Moradabad was my evening meal. I had spotted an restaurant on the Rampur road with a tandoori clay oven. I missed the amazing food I had eaten in Delhi. Sadly the food was barely cooked and inedible. I left it almost untouched and despite my protests paid in full for the dubious experience. I switched to a roadside seller around the corner and enjoyed a classic rice, roti, vegetables and pickle dish with automatic refills.
I passed through Rampur on the way to Rudrapur City. Rampur has a wonderful old railway station which is the resting place for an old carriage. The surrounding building is a home to local families and for sack makers.

Unable to find a room on arrival in Rudrapur City I cycled into a residential area and enjoyed some momo and tea from street sellers. I was surrounded by local people that took a great interest in my travels and bicycle. My search for a room was then accompanied by two young lads on their bicycles. They led me to the centre of town which had numerous high rise tourist hotels none of which were terribly suitable. Finally I found one; the Hotel Corbett Inn and they happily provided a cheap room by a small roof area. Once settled I went out to soak up the local nightlife. I had a great meal and on the way back was drawn in to a wedding party. The couple followed the procession of lights and music in a car. I was treated like a special guest and had quite a part in the wedding video with my interviewed reactions to the event.

A wave goodbye to the staff at the Corbett Hotel and I continued towards the Nepalese border. Past Bandia and towards the town of Sitarganj I stopped at a lake which appeared to stretch as far as the eye could see.

I stayed at yet another dirty little hotel room at Sitarganj. I find it incredible that so many hotels, many of which have staff doing very little, are happy to place their guests in filthy rooms that obviously have not seen a cleaner for months on end. I ate fish from a nearby stall which was directly in front if a liquor store. It was home for local drunks. The fish tasted fine but I was to suffer afterwards.

Sitarganj was a lot bigger than I realised as I had arrived late in the evening and had not really ventured too far. I really had my eyes set on reaching the border with Nepal and set off fairly early. After reaching Khatima the road turned to a stony track which followed along a canal. A large barrage presented the last great barrier before the border and with a pleasant chat with an immigrations officer and exit stamp in my passport I was between the countries. I could not suppress my absolute joy at reaching Nepal.

My stay in Delhi was extended. I telephoned my mum and heard someone that sounded like they had suffered a stroke. This was the case. I contacted my wife and brother She was quickly admitted to hospital and I put everything on hold and waited for news.
It was a temporary ischaemic attack. Not good but no longer an urgent situation. She was put on a short waiting list for a procedure to improve her cerebral circulation. With help at hand the situation was under control and I could consider leaving Delhi. It was a difficult choice but with reassurance that all was okay I felt I could move on.
The bridge over the Yamuna river was jam packed with early morning traffic in each direction. I struggled to escape Delhi but only once past Ghaziabad did the traffic thin out. The suburban sprawl extended and the living conditions seemed extremely poor. Buildings are in a bad state. Everywhere is strewn with rubbish and surface water is black, smelly and contaminated. With a large poor population trying desperately to eek out an existence it was a place from which to escape. Traffic belches out huge volumes of pollution and the air is difficult to breathe. As a touring cyclist I hated it all and felt sorry for the people that were forced to endure such conditions.
I made Hapur and desperately searched for some kind of lodging. After a bit of a search I found a hotel on the station road. It was expensive and a bit crummy. During the night a storm raged. I awoke to find the streets flooded.

After sinking a cup of tea I set out once again. Breakfast was gratefully provided on the road by a shop owner on a motorbike who gave me various pastries as we moved along the road together.

I had to cycle around a lorry that had not quite made a bridge and lay on its side.

The next stop was Garmukteshwar. This busy town lies to the West of the sacred Ganges river. I cycled through local farmland until finally reaching the ‘mother’ Ganges.

I returned to the town and on local advice went back to the main highway to continue East and find a room for the night. I turned down the first motel which was both expensive and looked empty. A little further on I reached the road bridge over the Ganges. On the West bank lies the Hindu pilgrimage town of Ganga Snan Ghat. I was able to get a fairly decent room at a large pilgrims hostel with a large auditorium and canteen.

The Ganges is big business. The riverside was filled with pilgrim services; offerings, boat trips, ceremonies and shrines. Stalls provided food and religious items. Many sadhus or holy men wandered about. I bought one of them lunch. I watched as people immersed themselves in the Ganges and had a good walk around the town. At a temple devoted to Ganga I was invited in to the main courtyard and sat to chat with the temple elders.

The Tibetan enclave at Majnu Ka Tilla in Delhi is a special place. It provides a home and focus for a Tibetan community in exile. It consists of narrow passageways that make up a fairly dense area of buildings. On one side is a busy dual carriageway. On the other the banks of the Yamuna River. There is a unique blend of businesses and stalls providing a large range of Tibetan services and crafts. At the centre is a Buddhist temple. it is by nature a haven of peace and tranquility and provides a stark contrast with the surrounding city. It has become a focus for visiting Buddhists from all over the world and a stepping stone to Dharmsala and other destinations for meditation and contemplation. I felt very privileged to have had the opportunity to stay there. I will return to stay again before finally winging my way back to ol’ Blighty.

I booked two nights at the Wonghden hotel to get myself established in India. I had been recommended Vodaphone in terms of mobile phone coverage for the areas I planned to visit. I set off into central Delhi on my unladen bike to sort out a new SIM card for my phone.
The sights and sounds of India brought back memories of my trip here with Anne. I found myself once again at the Red Fort and stopped to chat in front of the main gate.

Unfortunately I could not cycle in the grounds but instead pushed on South towards Connaught Place. As I cycled past a hospital A&E department I hoped that I would not end up inside it.
I stopped to eat a paratha close to an ‘independent’ journalist centre heavily ring fenced with barbed wire.
The freshly baked paratha was lightly stuffed with spices and vegetables. It was wonderful and so… so much better than the pale imitations served in restaurants back home. It was a busy stall!
As expected it was not terribly easy to get a SIM card for my phone. At Vodaphone I was given a queue ticket. When I finally (yawn) was seen; yes they would provide a prepay SIM but only as a replacement which would involve a return to the shop the next day.
I went to the Airtel shop, also at Connaught Place and immediately was seen by a friendly chap. He also sorted out another customer at the same time. He skilfully juggled forms and photocopied details and fairly quickly I was walking out with a new SIM and internet data plan. A call to Airtel four hours later to confirm my details and I was connected.
Because of security issues and in the the light of the Mumbai terrorist attack applicants for mobile connection need to provide a photo, passport, visa and personal details including address in India and other family information. Frustrating but with good preparation it can all be done very quickly.
I returned back to the Tibetan Colony via the Kamala Nehru Ridge Park. The park rises quite high above Delhi and is occupied by monkeys and various Delhi University faculties. It also appears to be a good place for dating. I was taken aback to find such a pleasant green lung in the midst of the Delhi madness.
Back to the Tibetan Colony and then out to eat a superb meal at one of the small eateries in one of the streets on the Indian side of the main road. I also snagged some momo at a fraction of the price that the Tibetan restaurants were charging.

The flight to New Delhi arrived a little later than I would have liked. Once I had picked up my bike and luggage it was already dark. Hardly ideal for finding accommodation in the sprawling metropolis of New Delhi. Thankfully the bike had survived the flight and I put it all back together for a new adventure.
I had some difficulty changing money as the Thomas Cook counter was closed. It was staffed but they told me it was shift ‘changeover time’. It would be a ’15 minute’ wait and which then became another 15 minutes. Given that it was getting late and I needed to find somewhere to sleep I used an ATM.
My plan was to head for the Tibetan Colony at Majnu Ka Tilla to the North on the Yamuna river. I had tried, unsuccessfully, to book a room at the well reviewed Wonghden House but they had told me via email that there were plenty of other good hotels nearby. It was my best shot.
The roads were a nightmare. Roadworks led me West until finally I hit the ring road back towards North Delhi. It all took forever and it seemed like the road system was a disaster. With the help of google maps I found my way to the Tibetan Colony and to Wonghden House. They had a room! Hurray!! The staff were surprised that I took my bike up to the room on the 4th floor but had no objection. It was an excellent room right next to the roof area which provided a good view of the Yamuna river behind.
I woke early and caught the sun rising beyond the river. I had arrived in India and had found shelter within an oasis of calm.

A few of the people that made my trip so magical. If there is one reason to visit Sri Lanka it is to meet such wonderful people who express themselves in such a warm open and generous way. Extraordinary people.

Air Sri Lanka took good care of my Surly Long Haul Trucker bicycle. They happily included it as part of their 35kg economy fare baggage allowance. I used a large CTC plastic bag supplied by Wiggle. On the outward journey I removed the handlebars and strapped them to the frame. I lowered the seat and removed the pedals. I removed the rear derailleur mechanism, packed in cloth and strapped to the rear stay. I also released the cantilever brake cables and applied polystyrene pipe lagging to various parts of the frame and the Blackburn racks. I kept a few Allen keys and the pedals with my hand luggage having read about the possibility of luggage getting lost or delayed. It would be no use having a bike without the bits to put it back into use. The airline check in staff insisted on tyres being deflated.
It all took a little time and effort but was keen to give my bike as much of a chance to arrive in good condition as I could. It really was overkill with hindsight.
For the second leg I simply turned the handlebars, removed the pedals, wrapped the rear mech. and lowered the seat. Once again the big plastic bag did the final job of wrapping it up.
All credit to Air Sri Lanka. No fuss and the bike always appeared to be personally looked after on arrival and placed by the baggage pickup belts. Phew!
I was warned that the traffic might present a challenge especially in Colombo. I found the opposite to be the case. The traffic moved much slower than in the UK. Drivers and pedestrians are acutely alert of their surroundings and behave with great precision and judgement. People use their horns to warn others ahead. It can be quite annoying since some almost deafen but they really do the job.
The problem with Colombo is twofold. Hit the traffic at rush hour and it is a nightmare with everyone doing their utmost (without success) to get ahead of the next person. The second and more important issue for cyclists is the ‘idiot’ factor. As with every congested city there are a lot of poor drivers on the road. They will kill you in every major city. Colombo is not good in that respect. I found myself cursing people that cut me up and pulled out on me. Lastly it is worth mentioning that cycling in and around Colombo is like chain smoking Gauloise cigarettes. The air is acrid and brings tears to the eyes.
Given all these factors it is worthwhile to take the shorter cycle ride to Negombo for a first stop or to have a taxi deposit you and bike in Colombo. Personally I was good in the traffic and enjoyed the thrill of cycling down into the very heart of the city as an initiation of fire.
Sri Lanka does not really do pavements. Often roads have a white line which separates pedestrians from the traffic. This provides a convenient cycle or scooter lane. Colombo provides the exception with pavements where they exist that are in a dangerous condition for pedestrians except in the showcase areas of the city.
Roads throughout Sri Lanka are as good as they get. Cycling in the East, South, West and central areas made me wonder why the hell I was on 2″ wide Schwalbe XR expedition tyres. They are bomb proof but slow. A nice pair of skinny touring tyres would have saved a lot of time and effort. However
main roads leading to the war torn North are being heavily rebuilt. Many other roads in the area previously occupied by the LTTE are either non existent or in a very bad way. They can be mud, sand or water. Google maps show them as roads. They are not.
All of Sri Lanka has a proliferation of cycle repair shops or rather sheds. However most cycles in use are of the old style with 28″ steel wheels and rod brakes. I saw far more bicycle use in the Eastern and Northern areas of the country. Many look like they have been around for donkeys years.
I did not need to use a spare tube or wheel spokes but certainly recommend having a few in hand given the different wheel size in general use on Sri Lanka.
Water and bottled water is almost everywhere. Roadside shops are so frequent that you could drink your weight in tea quite quickly if you were to stop too much. The same with food. Cheap ‘Short eats’ or snacks are everywhere too as is fruit. Sadly there is far too much fizzy drinks and biscuits for sale at every turn. The place is built on refined sugar and sweets.
Where found ‘lunch packets’ are a great option for cyclists. They provide cooked rice, fish, meat and vegetables in a single good value roadside purchase. They provide enough sustenance for the main meal for the day.
Options for accommodation outside of the main tourist haunts can be limited. Given the widespread density of the population wild camping is difficult. Domestic dogs alarm people to the presence of strangers. The more remote areas provide greater opportunity but it is probably best to create a cycling itinerary that includes pre-booking hostels. There are no backpacking campsites apart from the luxury tourist sites in the wildlife parks. I was able to wild camp on many occasions but involved a great deal of stealth in populated areas and given that I almost have a survival gear set up for more remote areas.
Lastly a big factor for cycling in Sri Lanka is the weather. The country has two different monsoons affecting different areas. The central mountain area has quite variable weather. Sri Lanka has everything from tropical to subtropical, dry and wet to quite cool in the mountains and sweltering heat in the South. Cycling in January was good and did not experience too much rain or heat. However as I left it had become too hot in the West for cycling. Climate is, in my opinion, the biggest factor with regards cycle touring in Sri Lanka and requires good timing.

 

I awoke early to ensure that I got to the airport in good time. I should not have worried and arrived with plenty of time to pack my bike. I posted my parcel at Mount Lavinia post office and headed back into the madness of Colombo past the twin towers of the Bank of Sri Lanka.

The route I chose was a little better than the one I took when I arrived and followed the canal towards Negombo for a short while. A last ‘plain tea’ and back onto the Colombo road heading North for the International airport. Oddly the airport appeared much larger than when I arrived and much more like Stanstead in the UK than the aerodrome from my first impressions on arrival. The bicycle was repacked in its plastic bag and I had no excess baggage charges to pay. I boarded a plane mostly filled with Indian passengers. There was spare space on this flight and with an empty seat next to me I could stretch out a little. The in flight vegetarian dinner was excellent.

I was quite sad to leave Sri Lanka. It is a beautiful country with a big heart. With so many structural changes following the civil war I wonder how long it will be before it is dragged down to the level of more ‘advanced’ countries. I have a terrible feeling that Sri Lanka’s soul will eventually be traded for the selfish world of modern consumerism.

I followed the coast road South with the intention of staying a night in Negombo. I had pre-booked the Colombo homestay from which I had started my tour for the next and final night in Sri Lanka.
Once again the skies were clear and it was very hot. It seemed like a change in the air and wondered if this was the first sign of the hot season. The coast road South was very pleasant and quite different from the chaos of Colombo despite being relatively close. As the road turned in towards Negombo I saw another grand looking Hindu shrine with a large reclining Goddess. I sneaked a few prohibited pictures.. some from a petrol station next door and outside the temple grounds.

Further along the road and a large Buddha statue sat in a typical Sri Lankan setting.

Over the bridge into Negombo I negotiated the centre and bus station to find the old Colombo coast road. It is remarkably quiet in comparison to the main road which I had used on arrival.

I stopped on a beach to eat a ‘lunch packet’ of rice, meat and vegetables. A little further and some ‘plain tea’ at a stall. I then took a little time out to sunbathe on a beach. It occurred to me that it was not so far to Colombo and rang to see if I could book that night to stay too. It was fine. So I no longer had the stress of trying to find yet another place to stay and could get myself well prepared for the flight out of Sri Lanka.

The old road to Colombo follows a canal before finally crossing via a bridge into the crazy world of Colombo

Once back at the homestay in Mount Lavinia I felt a great sense of relief. I had cycled all over Sri Lanka and it was like arriving home again. I even had the same room. In fact the homestay at Mount Lavinia was the best place I had stayed (4 nights in total) during my entire visit to the island. The next day I cycled into the open market area of central Colombo to buy half a chicken, potatoes, ginger, onions and one last juicy Sri Lankan pineapple. I had tea at the main taxi drivers hang out close to the prison and then got more than a little lost on the way back to the hostel.  I ended up on the Kandy road heading out of the city. Finally I found my way and curved back in towards the city to find myself once again on the old Galle road by the sea. Before cooking dinner I revisited Galle Road to buy a few things to post home to the UK.

On the approach to the outskirts of the Western Coastal town of Chillaw I visited the impressive Hindu shrine at Kuddirupu. It is surrounded by a multitude of stalls selling offerings of flowers, fruits and cheap knick knacks. The temple itself is magnificent. I was treated to some pineapple by one stall holder and a devotee leaving the temple gave out fruit from a large platter and  I  gratefully accepted a pineapple before hopping back on to my bike.

With great joy I cycled into Chilaw and onto the beach road. The receptionist at an up market hotel put me in the direction of a government rest house. It was set on the beach and a stones throw from the town centre. I was given a superb room looking out onto the beach with easy accessibility for my bicycle via a door leading out onto the hotel driveway. This was great!

Following a good nights rest I thanked the staff at the hostel and took a little ride around Chilaw. The East coast has many catholic churches and schools. Christianity, as the dominant religion, has  a major impact on lifestyle in Chilaw. I cycled the block around St Mary’s church as hundreds of students were arriving to start their school day..