26th Jan 2000
to
1st Feb 2000

From - Amritsar
 to - Delhi.
 476km in- 5 days

via
Indian Punjab Jalandhar, Ludiana, Ambala, Panipat
Haryana District


Total Distance to date: 9900km
Days from Greenwich:
133

Our rest day in Amritsar - although it started painfully with a throbbing pain in the head, after 4 Kingfishers the night before, was a serene and peaceful affair - we passed the day in the company of the Sikhs - enjoying the joviality, the hospitality, the spirituality, the bright coloured turbans and proud upturned waxed moustaches and the splendour of the Golden Temple. To sit inside the temple complex and watch the ablutionary rituals of an endless stream of Sikh men and women in the Indian winter sunshine, gave us a chance to pause and reflect. It is relaxing in the extreme, and the kind of place to allow your consciousness to catch up with your body. We begin to realise that we are now well and truly in India. Sometimes it is hard to remember and comprehend how we have got here. But we are now able to soak in the atmosphere sufficiently to prod ourselves into believing, that yes, we have actually ridden every piece of land between London with the traditional and historical setting of Greenwich Observatory, and the topsy turvy world of the Indian subcontinent. As we meditate and drink in our surroundings, the music wafts through the air and the generosity and kindness exudes from the fabric of the building - it has an intense feeling of well being here. The procession of pilgrims from all parts of the globe make a circuit of the outer temple, then take a food offering into the inner sanctum of the temple. There is a clamour to make donations and to hand over half of the buttery sweet wheat food that each pilgrim carries and then carries away the rest to consume for himself. We make our circuit slowly and deliberately and take cautious photos where possible of the scenes that surround us. Hungry for lunch we finally make a departure - but glad to have been to this special place.

The rest of the city is not quite so serene and we struggle our way through a mad confusion of traffic and out on to the Grand Trunk Road once again. Once away from the city itself and into the countryside, we find a similar environment to the Punjab, back across the nominal border to  Pakistan. We see lush green fields latticed by irrigation channels, and brightened by the bright yellow of rape seed flowers. The road is lined with a procession of huge trees painted around their trunks with a splash of white paint. These trees provide a very useful break against the elements - the wind and the fierce sun of summer. However I can't help but feeling that there are some striking differences between the two sides of the border, even after just a few days of India. Further my mind also wanders back to my last visit 5 (light) years back, and there seems to be something changing here.

Back in Pakistan there was an air of despair and a lack of certainty about the future. The outlook looked rather without hope, the economy in a poor state, the government and democracy in tatters, and criminals and armed bandits running amok in certain parts of the country. Some of those who we talked to had a worryingly fatalistic outlook on the whole situation - as if this is what modern Pakistan is all about - and they find the ability to poke fun at themselves and laugh in the face of this adversity. Certainly in the rural outlying areas we encounter only friendly faces - with time to stop and talk, and laugh, wave and whistle at us. But belying this slightly light-hearted attitude I feel sure that there is a hurting and disappointment. The country is not full of stupid people, there are industrious and clever people, and honest hard workers, and they surely feel this lack of confidence in their country. This national insecurity also shows through in the national daily newspaper Dawn - and whilst I am no media expert - there seems to be a sense that the country is in a real pickle and wants to extricate itself - but doesn't really know where to start.

In India however things feel rather different. I try to remember that this part of India that we have entered into - the Punjab, the most prosperous of the nation, and too that we are travelling along the GT Road - National Highway No 1 - one of the busiest and industrious stretches of road in the country. Even remembering this though - the country feels somehow stronger. The road is properly organised - with traffic travelling in the main part on the right side of the road. The transport moves purposefully along its course, and people seem less preoccupied with us as western tourists. Rather than stopping what they are doing, and in effect declaring that its more important to check out the white tourists, they are more focussed- and they continue to get on with their business - whatever it might be. Remembering back to my last visit, things seem to have progressed quite a long way on the surface - with widespread use of the Internet in cities, fax machines available in all Public Call Offices in towns and in rural areas, and now the big visual differences - the appearance of western brands in the previously proud and independent Indian market. We see a battle royal being waged between Coca Cola and Pepsi - with posters, stickers and hand painted advertisements emblazoned all across the countryside on any spare flat vertical surface. The roadside chai stalls have in many places become Coca Cola Stalls, and where there were only Charpoi rope beds before there are now legions of plastic chairs daubed with either bright blue and Pepsi logos or violent red and Coca Cola - its frightening - but understandable - this is the biggest market of the future - and it’s growing economically, and in population. For these companies there's a huge profit at stake here!

Of course - we don't find that India has remarkably transformed like a caterpillar into a graceful butterfly - there are still a whole raft of awful smells, terrible sights and a pollution problem that is almost too scary to contemplate. But, the key difference here is that India feels to be on the road to economic development, and the people know it. Pakistan, across the wire, feels caught in the spiral of problems of a developing country.

The road to Delhi is wonderfully smooth, and we cruise along happily - reaching Panipat - just one day from the capital after just 4 days cycling from Amritsar. We have passed through 3 ‘Million Cities’ already - and we haven't even reached the outskirts of Delhi. The road is so busy, and the countryside along the edges is not much quieter. As we approach Delhi the gaps between houses and factories at the roadside becomes less and less - there's always something happening - this place is bursting at the seams with people and with life. We cross the border into Delhi State from Haryana and the day is young - its just 3pm and the temperature is pleasant - around 20 degrees - we couldn't ask for more. We ride in t-shirt and lycra shorts and our body temperature regulates without problems. There is, however, a growing wind which whips in from our left hand side - whistling in from the east, and making riding a little hard. More of a problem though is the dust that is being blown up from the ground. Regular handfuls of sand shoot up underneath our glasses and into our eyes - causing us to blink uncontrollably. The dust too, in combination with the pollution of a busy monday in the city, conspires to throw up a heady smog up into the atmosphere and when we look up towards the sun, we notice that it is surprisingly weak - even at this early hour in the afternoon. The smog is blocking the sunlight in a menacing way. As we ride into the city and the green of the countryside gives way to pure urban mayhem, we begin to understand why the sun struggles to shine through the blanket of fumes. The roads are absolutely chokka. Undoubtedly a side effect of the nations growing prosperity, is the increasing number of cars on the roads. In the mid outskirts of the city - around 10k's out from the centre I become unusually scared by the traffic. I usually find the traffic of a big city exhilarating and a challenge to take on - but the roads here are claustrophobic. The cars and lorries have really nowhere to go, and as I squeeze between 2 lorries without wing mirrors I take stock - and decide to myself that I will not be missed here - if I am squashed or run down - I will be just another statistic on the Indian roads. This worries me - as does the attitude of the drivers - and I take more care - often stopping to take cover.

Further in to the centre and we finally come into sight of the city walls of Old Delhi - shortly followed by Old Delhi Railway Station. Falsely believing that I know where I am (I vaguely recollect this place - but have no chance of placing it within the framework of the city) - I drag Andrew off into amaze of back streets - which sees us enter a different type of congestion. This is altogether funnier and more sociable. We are gridlocked along with hundreds of rickshaw pedallers, cyclists and cart pullers, and we joke and jostle with them, and laugh at the fun, games and holy cows that are all around us - we have arrived in Delhi. The main street of Old Delhi - Chadni Chowk has not changed much since last I was here - it is still  pandemonium, but it is great - and we both enjoy riding with rickshaws. We get hopelessly lost in side alleys and we squeeze amongst pedestrians in the early evening - the sun has set and the lights are on. After much asking directions we finally arrive in the promised land of Paharganj Road - the tourist ghetto of Delhi - where we know we will find some western faces to talk to, some kind food, and a cheap bed. We shall rest (and probably consume a couple of Gin and Tonics!)

Rich and Andy! :-) (9 cycling days to Chitwan Park!)