Nepal

Still smarting a little from my hotel malfunction of the preceding night, I wasted no time in setting off for Lucknow. A long and narrow bridge swarming with bicycles, and the occasional car, crossed the wide river (the Ganga, but I was oblivious) and became a highway a little further on.

I had the usual friendly inquiries from others on two-wheeled transport, and a couple of guys on a motorcycle invited me to stop. We drank tea and chatted a bit, and they offered to ride with me the 40 km or so to Lucknow, where they would take me to a friend's hotel. This idea had some appeal, given the hotel difficulties I'd had recently, so I suggested I could call them when I got to Lucknow. They insisted on escorting me all the way, which made me a little suspicious, but they both seemed very genuine guys and so off we went.

I hardly saw my new friends, Aman and Kautilya by name, for the 2 hours it took to reach Lucknow. They were somewhere behind, almost out of sight. When I had a small collision with an oncoming cyclist (in India, all lanes are bi-directional!) they were nowhere to be seen. At Lucknow airport we rejoined and headed into the city and to the M. R. Hotel. There I met the friendly owner and his son, and in the evening we went and visited some of the sights on motorbikes. I was impressed by the architecture on display as we sped past. The Ambedkar memorial and surrounding area was quite incredible by night, ornamented with monuments, statues and bridges, and having the appearance of a heritage site, yet built in the last year by the chief minister of the state at great expense.

On the way home we stopped for paan, an exquisite sweet wrapped in a leaf that seemed to melt in my mouth.

Having had Delhi Belly for several days, I had decided to rest several days for it to pass. The family who ran the hotel were wonderful, and invited me into their home and even shared meals with me. I gave some computer networking lessons to the owner's younger son, and barely ventured out of the hotel.

When I was recovered and ready to move, I set off for the Nepalese border, reaching a small town called Fatehpur (the same name as a much larger city to the south), where I met a chemist who helped me find a bed and interviewed me for the Hindustan Times the next morning.

The nearer I got to the Nepalese border, the worse the road became. A crowd of around 50 gathered to watch me mend a puncture in a small village - I really dislike being crowded when trying to work, but there is little one can do about it. I reached Bahraich at sunset, and noticed to my distress that my pump was missing. Luckily bike shops sold at least the much larger track pumps with Presta valve connectors and the next morning I was on my way to Nepal.

The going was slow due to the road condition, and another young Sikh motorcyclist struck up a conversation from alongside, and ended up buying me lunch and accompanying me to the Nepalese border. This was most welcome as the road narrowed to a single lane and he escorted me, shielding me from oncoming vehicles and allowing me to remain on the sealed surface.

The cross-border traffic was the usual bustle of rickshaws, horse carts, camels and what have you, I obtained a month's visa at the border and stopped in Nepalganj for the night, as by then it was completely dark.