I had planned a route via a reservoir and Chitwan, a national park in Nepal. The route looked as if it would be asphalt with a few nasty climbs. As soon as I left the main road I discovered the asphalt vanished and the climb was ridiculously steep! Once again my planning never ceases to amaze me.
My lungs were struggling. Dust, smog and lungs still not fully healed. I was happy at the end of the day setting up a camp on the side of the reservoir.
A family was trying to create a small holiday camp. I don’t feel their heart was in it though. But I paid for a dinner, Dal Bhat (mainly a rice dish) and paid them double for letting me camp, use the toilet and running water. It’s a pity there was so much cloud, it would’ve been a nice view. The morning did not get any clearer but on the cycle, the sun finally broke through. The reservoir was surrounded by mountains with marigolds growing on the slopes. Little villages with the occasional resort dotted the side with forests making up the rest.
But alas, it was time to move on. I only had a few days left on my visa and the extension wasn’t worth the cost. There was another brutal climb out of the valley and into the next. It was asphalt but my lungs were done. I ended up pushing and even attempting to hold onto a motorcyclist who offered to help! It was a challenge and one I didn’t feel would end well. Back to pushing.
Jungle and a quick hitch
The day over, I made it to the edge of Chitwan National Park. I wasn’t going to visit the park but there was one small jungle with a lake, which I could cycle through. But first to find a camping spot. There was a rumour you would camp near a river next to a restaurant. Usually, you just ask the owner and they say it’s fine. However, they said no camping. This left me in a difficult spot. But as night fell I found a small playing field and set up camp.
The cycle through the jungle wasn’t particularly worth it but the lake was a nice place to relax before continuing my journey. After about 15km that day, I discovered to my displeasure they were ripping the road up. It was going to be about 100km of mud, dust, fumes and bumpiness to make you question why you started. I lasted an hour, grabbed lunch at a truck stop and hitched a lift!
This saved me a day and it gave me the chance to visit Lumbini, the birthplace of the Buddha. I was now on the agricultural plain of Nepal and camping spots are limited. Opting for a Hindu temple on the edge of a village. I was hoping they would put me in a corner but instead, they put me under the first temple when you walk in the complex! Apparently, they have a bit of a snake problem.
Luckily, there were very limited people coming to visit. The grandfather of the temple who allowed me to stay was making sure I had everything before he went to sleep. His son, who spoke good English, was also offering food and water and trying to help me in every way possible. It was a good night’s rest and then on to Lumbini.
The birthplace of the Buddha
Lumbini is a bit of an odd place. The mixture of temples devoted to the birthplace comes from all over the world. Even Europe, combined with Austria, supported the construction of one and a monastery on the side. Myanmar has a golden temple; Thailand’s has intricacy all over. Japan has also a small simple monastery and paid for the Peace stupa which stands tall at the opposite end of the 3km long complex.
This is combined with the incomplete buildings all over and the rather brutalist buildings from a Japanese architect littered all over. They would even give the Soviet Union’s buildings a run for their money. There are also incomplete roads all over the place and the bridges are half-constructed and forgotten about. I visited the Mevi temple, placed where the Buddha was supposedly born. Personally, it wasn’t worth it! I feel it will become a tourist trap in another 10 years.
The cycle to the border was only 30km, time for a quick stop-off for samosas. I can’t get enough of them. As always, Indian bureaucracy has a level which I don’t think anyone can rival! First, is the military check-in and writing all the details into their books which will never be looked at again. Second, the actual immigration office is not next to the border and you have to try and find it in the border town. Always a mission and then you have to queue, fill out a form (I already have my visa) and then you get the stamp.
The start of the major festivals of Hindus world over
Diwali starts in 4 days; however, what this really means is the countryside finishes the harvest and starts burning all the fields. The pollution has increased to the point it makes the news in the UK and across the World! Unfortunately, for my lungs they start to regress and my cough returns. I altered my original plan of a small tour of East Uttar Pradesh and headed straight for Varanasi.
It took me another two days cycling and I managed to arrive in time for my birthday! It was a lonely affair this year, but it did include pizza, beer and ice cream. What more do you need on a birthday when you are 43!