Here, in this section Travel journal, you can follow the saga of our trip. We promise we will often put our bike aside and ride our computer to recount all our adventures.
We will be two riders but we want you to travel by our sides and share with you all the kilometers we will go through!
How nice it is to be back in Europe… and especially when Belgrade, in Serbia, is the first city that you see! “What’s the hell is the secret of this city?!”, I’m wondering! If you decide to take a walk in Belgrade, it won’t take long before you doubt about your own eyes… On June 30th, Samuel and I landed in the capital city of models. The women of Belgrade are splendid, it is as simple as that. There is no asterisk, no footnote, no hidden clause that would deteriorate this axiom: Belgrade is a women’s fashion show on a city scale.
Imagine now that you just arrive from India. The country where long sleeves and pants are mandatory whatever the temperature peaks. During 2 months and half, you have seen of women only their face, their hands and their feet (and even less since the two last ones are often covered with henna). During this period, not even a single comparison has come to your mind, you were in India and nowhere else. But imagine that after these 2 months and half, you all over sudden find yourselves surrounded by hundreds of Western models advertising for the latest Summer fashion. Well, let me say that you’ll find it pretty difficult to believe what you see! And it won’t take long before you even doubt about your own eyes…
The anecdote will undoubtedly not arouse the same interest among you, but how could I have concealed it? “How nice it is to be back in Europe!” The article would not deserve its title if it did not speak about the first of these nicenesses! 😉
First chronologically I mean, because it is with a rain of small pleasures that Europe welcomed us…
To find good meat (and other that chicken) was also a beautiful revolution!
(Sorry, I don’t have any illustration for “Belgrade, capital city of models”)
I should apologize to all my English-speaking friends who follow this trip. I just finished writing 3 articles about my last month in India… but I wrote them in French, and I just don’t have the strength to translate them. Sorry !
So I will give you the links towards the 3 articles written in French, and I hope 1) that you will still be eager to read them, and 2) that Google has improved a little bit its translations since last time I used it !
Article 1 : From the purity of a farm to the pollution of a country
Article 2 : Kashmir, “the most beautiful place on Earth”
Article 3 : The Himalayas, last bastion of freedom in India
When I reached the pass (5328m high), all fortifications that had supported but also restrained my mind collapsed, never before in this trip I had felt so light, never before in this trip I had felt so free !
Also, the photo album recounting these 2 intense months and a half in India is now complete. Check it out, it’s here !
You guessed it, my adventure in India is now over. I left the country a few days ago, and went back to… France ? No ! I am writing this newsletter from Belgrade, Serbia. I am back in Europe, but the trip is not over yet : 6 countries still lie between me and France… 3000 more km to ride !
To be continued…
“But in Jaipur, fabulous news was waiting for us…”
This is how our previous newsletter had ended. Because at that time, our world tour by bike was about to become electric again: we had got back the batteries of our bikes! They made it until the General Post Office of Jaipur; we only had to climb up to the floor of the customs, justify their non-commercial use (“yes, our bikes are just down the stairs, you want to see them?”), and pay the customs clearance to free them from their custody. It should have been simple… Though once there, we got surprised by the chaos we had in front of us! The parcels of the day (or week, who knows?) were scattered all over the place, there were power failures every 15 minutes, and it took us no less than 2h to get rid of the paperwork. But what does that matter?! We got out of the building with the batteries in our hands; the engines of our bikes would finally resume work!
Unfortunately, this perspective quickly evaporated… when the batteries did not turn on. Our sponsor, VELOSCOOT, found the cause of this dysfunction, and the diagnosis is formal: the batteries must return to France for an update at the factory. Eventually, it is not in India that we will again hear the soft purring of our engines.
Destiny played a hell of a trick on us, but what could we do? This disillusionment did not kill our motivation. Ahead of us were the Himalayan Mountains, and with them the hope of a peaceful and harmonious atmosphere. It was time to get back on track.
In Jaipur, we took the train to Amritsar. 800 km identical to the 500 that we had already ridden, so we were told. Neither remorse nor regret when purchasing the ticket, we were actually quite relieved to skip these 800 km in 1 night. The last 500 had turned our references upside down and shaken up the cornerstone of our thinking; we learned a lot, but Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan are certainly not the most pleasant states to cross by bike in India…
Thursday May 1st. We arrive at Amritsar, spiritual and cultural center of the Sikh community. We have changed state, we are in Punjab!
Harmandir Sahib, the “Golden Temple”, in Amritsar. The most important place of worship for Sikhs.
Monday, April 14. The safety belt lights turn off for good and the aircraft doors open. It is 6 p.m., our captain is certainly a very punctual man. We enter the airport, pass the immigration without any problem, then arrive in front of the luggage belt and grab all our bags within a minute. Perfection itself seems to have coordinated our arrival… An hour later, however, we learn that our bikes have decided to extend their stopover in Colombo, Sri Lanka. And nobody is able to predict when they will leave for the India! So we leave the airport sitting in a taxi, but with the insurance to be called as soon as our bikes have resurfaced.
The next day, around 6 p.m., the airport called: our bikes were on today’s plane. They’ve arrived in New Delhi and will be delivered at the hotel within 2/3 h. Very well…
8:30 pm : “I’m on the way, I’ll be there in 10 minutes”
9: 45 pm : “I am at the traffic light at the end of the street”
10: 15 pm : “Hello!”
So yes, obviously we were a bit stressed! At the airport, the bikes were safe. At the hotel, they would have been safe again. But between the two… And this guy doesn’t give any news for more than an hour after he had said that he was only 10 minutes away!
But what a relief to get our bikes back! We only had to put them up and the Indian adventure would begin!
Friday, February 7. We arrive at Hachadura, last city of El Salvador before the border. Our passport did not get stamped when we left El Salvador, we crossed a small bridge and then, within less than 30 seconds, we got the immigration stamp of Guatemala…. Never before had we crossed a border so quickly: in less than 5 minutes, we had officially changed country!
We put away our passports and immediately get back in the saddle. We actually do not feel like riding, our motivation does not go higher than the chainset. But we still manage to put 85km behind us, and eventually the reward happens to be worth the effort: we discover the Rancho Linda Maria, a beautiful open property, which stretches along a powerful stream of clear water. We wash our clothes in the current, close to the bank, then go further in and clean our body in the stormy water. It is a renaissance, as it is each time a bath ends a long period of dubious hygiene 😉
Back on dry land, we meet a group of Guatemalans already free from their working week. They invite us to their table and then follows an effervescent hour, maintained by the fire of an unbroken discussion. At some point we ask them what they exactly mean when they say “Gringo”. Since we entered El Salvador, this word has been daily shot at us on (children in particular would not miss a single opportunity!), it was high time to understand the message…
“Gringos are Americans”, explains Mario, “So you’re actually no Gringos, but you’re blond-haired and have blue eyes… for the people here, you can only be American.
– But it is quite derogatory, isn’t it?
-Oh yes, it is… We do not like the Americans here. Only children say it innocently.”
After these revelations, we were rather relieved to be Europeans, we could now say serenely: ‘no somos Gringos’. But all the same, the barbs have not stopped, our hair remained blond and our eyes blue…
The next day, our mental batteries are 100% recharged. We pass by Escuintla and reach Antigua. We had only heard good things about Antigua, and it is indeed a pretty colonial town. But in truth there were so many tourists and so many shops dedicated to tourists that we found it difficult to appreciate its authenticity. Eventually, the sight of the small booths of tostadas in front of the beautiful La Merced church will probably be our strongest memory.
Fortunately, the authentic quickly caught up with us! Let’s travel in time and space, we are now in the ruins of Iximche, next to Tecpan. The ruins themselves are not of the most explicit but the visit suddenly turned into an extraordinary experience. We have been invited into the circle of a ritual inherited from the purest Maya tradition: an “agradecimento”, aimed to thank the ancestors…
