The (other) purpose of the trip

So uh, it took me some time to process all the various payments, money transfer and collections. That's why this final donation post took awhile to arrive. And all the banks be hasslin' me for fees and commission and shit.

Actually, it didn't really take that long, other than the international money transfer, most of it was just me being lazy as heck. Whoops. But the bank fees are real (more on that later).

ANYWAY.

This movement has ended successfully. Indeed it has, no broken bones or major disfigurements.

Thanks to all of you awesome folk out there who donated to our worthy cause (cough), we managed to raise $5521.59! Not to shabby, if I may say so myself. Now if you're wondering about the strange number and why it doesn't tally with the $4087 as shown, this is the actual breakdown:

GiveAsia donations: $4087
GiveAsia tips and fees: -$292.41
Other cash donations: $1727 (including a $2 collection in Rupees while we were actually in India)

Bank fees and that automatic tip to GiveAsia (if you did not realize in time to un-check it) made up for the difference. But it costs money and effort to upkeep such a website and service so I'm not going to begrudge them too much about it. Except the part where they automatically charge you a 10% tip in small print if you don't pay attention. That's a little scummy.

So we made good on our pledge to donate 500 GBP to Cool Earth, which amounted to $890 (including more bank fees and charges).

That leaves us with $4631.50 split evenly between Esplanade and the NUH Heart Fund, for over $2300 each. Wow. Also, coincidentally, the amount donated specifically for each side was also equal. No, I shit you not. It's almost as if divine providence allowed me to do less book keeping.

Yep, so that's the conclusion to our happy little tale.

The last bit we have to left to do is actually find a way to get the money to NUH / Esplanade, but I presume giving people money shouldn't be too difficult. As opposed to receiving money, where we sent $1763 to the organizers as deposit for our vehicle, only to receive $1623 back in return. Mind you, we were due to receive ALL our deposit back because Yinghao is an amazing driver that way and didn't break anything. Still, in the 3 months where the money moved around the world, bank fees and exchange rates managed to chew away almost 10% of our money. Negative 40% interest rate per annum? Best rate of return ever.

Again though, thanks everyone for your support!

Go out somewhere and do something stupid awesome!

For the last time,
Jik

India and our route in review

Surprise!

Yinghao had a great post HERE and it was truly befitting of a ending to a great journey. It was also his last personal post (he told me so), and served as closure on our adventure. For a while I thought, "yeah, this ended well". But then I'm more like one of those Hollywood types who try to milk every last drop from a good series with spin-offs and prequels and merchandising.

I like to write silly stories and there was still a bunch in my head so I figured, "ah hell why not." Also, since we're still open for donations for a while more I figure I'll keep it running a bit more before closing up.

First up, thanks to each and everyone of you for donating, reading, sharing and being a part of our journey! It brought a different sense of depth and dimension to something that simply started out as a quest for adventure.

Anyway, about India.

That's our  route, give and take some amount of city driving, U turns and detours.

So now that I've had the time to properly sit down and review stuff, I've made a map that shows our actual route, as opposed to our planned route. Which looks very similar on the whole, except just about all the stops were different. I'd say we didn't do too badly in terms of planning. Haha.

We drove 2714km, give and take maybe a 100km or so to account for city routing, detours in search for McDonald's, some ferries that Google Maps won't let me plot (and hence changes our route), but pretty much everything is there. The additional section from Jaisalmer to Delhi is a recreation of our train ride, all 800+km of it, because My Maps doesn't allow me to use public transport to plot routes.

2714km at an average of ~30km/h puts us at about 90 hours of driving, which is about 6.5 hours a day. That definitely sounds too little to me, so I think our average speed was probably closer to 25km/h, giving us 8 hour drives on average. Sounds about right, including the crazy 12 hour days and the rest day in Udaipur.

This pretty much destroys everything I know about travelling. Our Singapore to Krabi drive seemed like a walk in the park in comparison, especially since I had a 4-wheeled vehicle. Apparently it is possible to drive for long hours in a foreign land, not know any of the local languages (other than English), use a completely under-powered vehicle with no shelter and still make it out alive and in one piece. However, no claims made about how much suffering is required.

We survived, indeed.

That being said, English + Google Maps is a very powerful combination of tools that probably let us survive much better than we otherwise would have. Also, having an experienced biker as a driver. At the start of the trip we utilized my Booking.com account a fair bit, making advanced bookings and such, although after a few days I realized that was unnecessary as most places would have ample accommodation despite the "1 room left!" online. They were also often willing to split the commission fee we would otherwise have paid for, giving us a better rate despite my booking.com membership perks.

There was only one place where this almost backfired, which was at Ambolgad beach (Samindar Beach House), because the next day was the weekends and all rooms were full. Thankfully they had room for the night, but if we were one day late that was the one place where there was no other accommodation choices, and the roads were pitch black at 8pm. Kind of like in Jurassic Park.

Before anything else, I want to admit that India has been the country that has deviated the most from my initial expectations, in an extremely positive way. The only negative was the food. I knew there was going to be very little beef or pork going into the trip, but I didn't expect the huge swathes of spicy vegetarian land. Everything else was within realms of imagination or exceeded it completely.

It's true that I had pretty low expectations going in, but I have had pretty low expectations of other places too and they certainly did not impress the way India did. That being said, to generalize India is to do it a pretty bad injustice, as with most large countries, but India has been one of the most diverse ones. This is true for people, practices, culture, architecture, food, everything. A vast majority of people were really nice, friendly and helpful. Culturally a lot of things are very strange to us and sometimes intimidating, but almost everyone means well. However, that does not always hold in the big cities, or places that are very obviously for tourists, so your mileage may vary depending on where you go.

However, some things hold true regardless of where we were, from the tropical beaches of the south to the frigid deserts of the north. For example, the magic number TWO. Regardless of whatever context, whatever estimation required, as long as the amount is "two", it could mean anything from "a little" to "a whole lot" to "absolutely no idea but I'll just tell you two".

"How far is it?"

"Two minutes walk".

Could be anything from a two minute walk to a "I give up let's go back".

"I'll send it up in two minutes."

Sometimes it comes fast, sometimes it takes an hour, sometimes it never arrives and we have to pick it up tomorrow at the front desk.

"Where is the mechanic?"

"That way, two kilometres."

This happened in Jodhpur. Otherwise known as: go along the road for a bit until the circle, take a right for another 3km until the next circle, take a left, go around aimlessly, ask another half-dozen people, eventually find the mechanic after an hour. Interestingly, someone actually waved us down, as if they were expecting us. I wouldn't even be surprised if word got there that "three aliens are coming in an auto rickshaw from Kerala and they need help."

However, most other approximations are usually somewhat accurate. If someone says, "three kilometres, then turn left at the market", that's usually good. Or "fifty kilometres to the next city". Do note that "twenty" is merely a TWO in disguise, because it's two times ten, so by no means is "twenty kilometres" a good thing to hear when driving.

This applies to food as well. When they say a serving serves "two people", it usually serves a small family. It has never served less though.

That bowl of rice was supposed to serve "two people"

The amount of rice on my plate (with a phone and Yinghao's hand for scale) was carved out from the huge bowl of rice in the background. Notice the rather small dent in the bowl of rice. Even if I ate nothing else except for rice I'm not sure two of me could have finished that bowl.

Another thing which I noticed, which seems to hold true in our entire trip, was that everybody had an opinion. Never had anyone replied, "I don't know" with regards to any question. With regards to directions, "go left" could mean any of the following:

1) turn left
2) turn right
3) go straight
4) reverse
5) all of the above
6) I don't know

We had someone say "go right, then go left". Both times he signaled with his left hand. That immediately set off my "questionable directions" alarm.

We were wisely told early on, when asking for directions, to seek maybe a dozen different opinions and get an average, or to see if there was some sort of prevailing wisdom. This proved its use when we were in Godhra looking for the elusive non-vegetarian restaurant.

"Non-veg restaurant?"

Head shaking
"That way, two minutes"
"None"
"Go to the junction"
More head shaking
"Hotel"
"That way, near the hotel"
"That way, near [some name]"

The high level of specifics in the last few answers gave us hope. Well, relatively speaking, anyway.

On a side note: in India "Hotel" actually means restaurant, for vast majority of the establishments. If you're looking for accommodation, "Lodging" or "Rooms" are the words you need to look out for. Some "hotels" also had accommodation, but a lot of them only served food.

A lot of time when looking for directions people asked us to go to the roundabout. What that actually meant is if we went to the roundabout, it was more likely we could get a larger set of directions which would eventually lead us to our destination. At least, that's how it usually worked out. Almost never was the place we were looking for actually at the junction.

I feel that these two phenomenons are related, with the two syndrome a subset of the everyone-has-an-opinion syndrome. Throughout India only this, free-for-all traffic, photo-taking obsession and collared shirts on men were constants.

Ah yes, collared shirts.

Everyone wears shirts with a collar. You can tell who the tourist is.

Even in the middle a mountain road there was a random settlement with a mechanic. With the associated spectators, as is with India. And they all wore collared shirts.

Remember Mr Mustafa? Fisherman, sandals, collared shirt

Why this was the case, I was never able to find out though. It just seemed like a natural way of life.

Some of you might be wondering, what do we do with over 90 hours in a vehicle? I assure you it's all fun and games. And sleeping.

1) We look out and marvel at stuff. This happened a lot more at the start of the journey when we were all starry-eyed and new to this India stuff. Everything was fascinating. Cows, dogs, farms, waving people, things people carried on their heads, various animals pulling carts, overloaded tuk-tuks, it was all fresh and exciting. Then it gets a little stale, because after the 50th cow you just can't muster much enthusiasm at yelling, "COW!" anymore. And then suddenly the scenery transforms and we go back to stage one again. It's a neat little cycle.

2) We eat. Fruit, chips and biscuits, mostly. I can safely say I've never eaten so much fruit in a long while. Probably ate more bananas in 3 weeks than I did in the past 3 years. The rate of fruit we consume is directly proportionate to the type of fruit we buy - bananas are consumed the fastest, while oranges are only consumed at the rate at which Wenwen can peel them because Yinghao is driving, she loves him and peels for him, while I'm a lazy slob who can't be arsed to peel my own oranges. Because they are awesome and generous people I get offered some orange slices when they're peeled. It works out well. For me anyway, haha.

3) We use try to search for accommodation in our next location. Cross reference Booking.com, Tripadvisor and Google reviews. Also line up some alternatives in case things don't work out, like our first choice in Udaipur being inaccessible by vehicle. You'd think this doesn't take too much time, but with our primary source of comfort at stake we spare no effort in hunting down the best deal.

4) We sleep. This one's rather self-explanatory. Only thing of note is that one of us doesn't get to partake in this glorious activity. Poor him.

5) We debate various things. Or rather, Yinghao and myself debate stuff over the roar (purr) of Catbus' engines. History, politics, economics, society, it's all really highbrow intellectual stuff like why I think McDonald's is the Bastion of Humanity, how KFC in Malaysia tastes better than in Singapore (but KFC in India is even more awesome, as we later discover), turbochargers, legends of turbochargers, and fat jokes. Wenwen usually just rolls her eyes at us, such nerdy and horrible people.

Presenting RabbitingHao

6) We engage in really inane activities. Like how Wenwen discovers joy in putting clothespegs on Yinghao's jacket. It took him a while to discover them, and there were at least a few chai and food stops where he went out complete with pegs and all. So cute. When he discovered them a new game was invented where we would pinch the back of his jacket to pretend that we were pinning pegs on, then watch in glee as he tried to flick all the imaginary pegs off. Some amount of entertainment in the back of a tuk-tuk was to be had. Hey, we had a lot of time to kill, and there's only that much sleeping or eating we can do. Don't judge.

We actually bust out some karaoke at some point, but it's pretty difficult to hear anything in an open vehicle with the roar and horns of traffic all around, so that was rather short-lived.

So yea, that's pretty much what we did for a large part of the trip, and some interesting observations I had about India.

Cheerios, Jik
https://give.asia/movement/rickshaw_run_-_driving_for_charity

Epilogue: Goodnight Catbus

Goodnight, Catbus.

When you next wake up, we would be back in Singapore 6,508km away.  That's only slightly more than twice the distance that we travelled together, so it's not all that much.  And when you do, you might have a fresh coat of paint and would have been patched up in a somewhat slipshod and adhoc manner.  You might be named Daisy or some other wittier name, and by all chances, not Catbus.   The cheshire cat grin would probably be gone too.

Catbus makes it across the finishing line

It's a good and deep sleep that you have earned, having carried us 2,600km from the start to finish.  We've traversed pothole laden and rocky gravel tracks, beach sand, lumbered across numerous bridges, and struggled up so many mountain slopes together.  We've seen you carried across rivers on ferries and physically pushed you here and abouts. Despite all that, you were only marginally cranky every morning.

Catbus receives the princess treatment at Pokaran Fort

We will remember you and all of your idiosyncrasies.  Like how you adamantly refuse to start every cold morning, and will only be coaxed out of your nap after all of us and the whole surrounding village has had a go cranking your starter.  Why were you never born with an electric starter?  My left bicep continually bemoans the fact.  And even after you do rise from your nap, how irate you'll be until you've had a good stretch of your legs.  We did learn that the hard way, when you left us stranded in the middle of a crowded city 4 way junction in Navi Mumbai and refused to fire up.  Never again will we have the experience of pushing a vehicle through a swarm of traffic nipping at our heels and around, beside, and in-front of us.

We're sorry, Singapore, all that's left of our proud flag is the flag post

From the back seat, Jik and Wen will remember the the sharp screws and metal pieces you have scattered in your innards.  Like the one that tore my weatherproof duffel bag and Jik's pants in shreds and had to be subdued in a flurry of gaudily coloured duct tape and plastic bits.

Jik's favourite screw flies free

It is free, no more.

Other choice unforgettable features would include the tassels that Wen bought to beautify you with.  Truly deserving of being a Catbus, you bite and you scratch.  We had to subdue them too after many attempts at taking out Jik's eyesight.  They were a delight floating in the wind, until they floated into your face.  You can guess where we chose to harvest our repair parts from in the photo above.

Not the best way of hanging decorative tassles

Token drum and fuel tank

You were infused with petroleum goodness from jerry cans that we made you bear.  And credit to us, we've never let you run yourself flat out of petrol despite not having a fuel gauge and a somewhat inaccurate odometer.  Most trips were spent with our heads in a miasma of petrol fumes.  It's no wonder that the backseat gang was often flat out and concussed.  To the end, despite our optimisations, you were as greedy as before.  Where did all that fuel go?  was probably the most common verbalised question in the morning when we were doing our pre-trip top-ups.  The drum ended up relocated right in front of the steering so that I could fulfill my roles of Chief Motorcyclist and Chief Drummer all at the same time.

Water bottle storage gutter

We fashioned a water-bottle storage centre in what little space we could make right behind the driver's seat.  It started being an important source of rehydration, and ended up as a make-do rubbish dump and functioned mainly in making crackling noises whenever my buttock gently caressed our little collection whenever we accelerated sharply.  The orange water-bottle holder on the far right developed the habit of flipping the other way and flapping out of the rickshaw.  It was the holder that was guilty of swiping the scooter side mirror in Udaipur in that tiny alley, not me or my driving skills.  (Sorry, scooter owner, traffic did not allow us to stop to apologise or even slow down any.)

Catbus dusting device

We will similarly miss all the creature comforts that you offered; all that modern technology has to offer.  The rolled up newspaper we never read from day one eventually became the Catbus internal dusting system and worked by transferring kinetic energy when forcefully wielded against dusty surfaces into loud FHWAP FHWAP noises and a cloud of dust.  The Version 2 upgrade came as a brown rag donated by a nearby Tuktuk driver who was frustrated watching us trying to wipe the windscreen in futility with tissue paper.  It becamer browner.

Your GPS system was trusty and worked even when the engine and battery were dead.  It always pointed us the right way ("Just go north!"), even when the Indian Guy Pointing System pointed in seemingly arbitrary directions ("Go left...then go right").

Tuktuk GPS system

Your garang guni horn entertained children throughout India, and saved the lives of a random collection of animals.  It was, as with all things, also held in place with duct tape.  It became critical eventually, being a power-failure safe device.  As a little joke, you could either have your foglights turned on, or the horn.  Our initial nights driving were spent with meagre lights somewhat-ablazing, in a flurry of garang guni horns.  Eventually, we learnt the ways of the Indian roads.  Horns above all, and the garang guni horn was reduced to entertaining children again. 

Catbus intervehicle communications system

We have to apologise for leaving a screwdriver in your  innards.  Your throttle attachment would not stay un-floppy, likely as it was completely broken, and we could not think of a better solution than to splint it with a screwdriver.  Attached, of course, with duct tape (see a trend here?)  We should have fixed it better, but we were too cheap and left it there for the rest of our journeys.  Your Jodhpur mechanic seemed to approve, so it must be good enough.  He had thrown open the engine bay, pointed to it and chortled, "this good!"  I'm not arguing with a professional.

A functional but strangely aesthetically un-pleasing repair job, featuring more yellow duct tape.

There are uncountable other things that we will always remember about you.   How your front wheel usually ends up pointing right when the steering was left, how your suspension really did not immunise us from all but the slightest up-swelling on the road, how your tyres continually leaked air and had to be topped up every few days.  Your wipers never did work very well unless we were charging on at full throttle, and even then, they would either wipe the left side of the windscreen, or the right, but never both.  And how can we forget how your exhaust was left dangling by a single bolt after the nut from the other side simply dropped off.  

The Third Wheel, post trip

These aren't the most important though.  We will always remember the countless roads and highways you brought us down, the small towns and villages.  We will remember the smiling faces we pass as we beeped our garang guni horns down the road, or those tucked at the back of overladen vehicles.  All the hot barmy days that blended into crazy adrenaline packed nights, then transited into a biting winter chill up north.  We will remember all the adventures you brought us through day in and out, and all the beautiful places, indefatigably.  We will miss the days when our main worry was whether you would start in the morning and last through the day.  You were bonejarringly tough to ride day in and out, and sometimes slower than walking pace uphill.  Yet, you've never let us down.  

True to your name, you've managed to take us to any destination that we desire, even when we don't know how to get there.  Remember Jodhpur, when we were haphazardly driving about with random directions from strangers and somehow you brought us to the exact spot and mechanic we were looking for?

So, goodnight, Catbus.  You've truly earned your slumber this time.  No one will be waking you up in the chilly mornings for 12 hour drives for the next few weeks.  Rest well.  When you next wake up, you will have new friends to play with, a new paintjob, and many new adventures to look forward to.  

We all hope you take as good care of them as you did with us.  

Saying goodbye to Catbus

Yinghao

Chief Mechanic

https://give.asia/movement/rickshaw_run_-_driving_for_charity

"The Catbus is seemingly able to take its passengers to any destination they desire, even if the passenger (or the bus itself) lacks the knowledge how to get there...""

Day 20-21 : This post about the Indian Railways and Delhi is longer than I thought.

It's lovely that I can write this in the comfort of my own home with an actual keyboard and mouse instead of having to juggle typing on my phone and messing everything up because typing with two thumbs is horrible and poor connection makes me lose paragraphs. Mostly it's fat fingers but I like to blame ISPs because you know, they can't really defend themselves.

But in all seriousness, doing this on a desktop is infinitely easier and faster. Ten finger typing and a mouse beats zooming in and out trying to find the "add picture" button. However, at home I am also infinitely more prone to procrastination. So, some amount of give and take on both sides.

Anyway.

First up, the legendary Indian Railways! The strange naming convention is presumably because in 1951 they nationalized all the various railway systems in India under one company. I actually just researched this because I had some OCD typing this out because I thought the company would be named "Indian Railway", the singular, since there was only one railway system in India. As opposed to what it currently is, using a plural name when in fact it refers to a singular system.

Confused yet? Yeah, me too.

Also, there was a online website to book a train ticket, but for some reason you needed a local account, either some sort of local ID or phone number or address or something, so that was completely elusive to us tourists. Thankfully the last hotel we stayed in seemed to know exactly what situation this was because they very helpfully booked and printed our tickets for us (for a small fee).

Actually quite decent, despite my initial reservations and strange naming

 It was actually a lot better than I expected. It was not overflowing with people, and there was actually pretty good sitting and sleeping room. Nothing at all like the pictures you get when you Google "Indian Train" see people hanging off the side and piling up on top.

Happy campers

As seen from this specimen, there's actually adequate sitting room, but this is the second class cabin, with 6 beds to a cabin, and I was sitting on someone else's bed space (more on this later). 3 on the lower deck, and 3 on the upper deck (note the person sleeping above them). The beds can be converted into chairs if need be, but my general rule of thumb in India was "don't fix what isn't broken" (this applied to not just trains). Also, you might not want to discover what lies beneath the two layers of cushion. It comes with a blanket and pillow, and there's a pile of wrapped bed sheets (presumably washed) which you can line your bed with. However, when we pulled into Delhi a staff member came on just to refold all our blankets and put them back on the beds, so it's anyone's guess when the last time the blankets were washed.

And I spent about 10 hours huddled up under one because of the cold. Oh dear.

The first class cabin has 4 beds to a cabin and an actual door (ours has no doors, just curtains), while the third class cabin has 8 beds to a cabin. This also means that you probably won't have sitting room in the third class cabin, so for the small price difference I think you'd want at least second class so you could actually sit.

Also, our cabin was "air-conditioned", which actually meant it had a little strong fan in the middle of the cabin. It was fine in winter, but might be tough in summer because the windows can't be opened. Something to think about.

Some rudimentary research online suggested that there would be food and drinks available for purchase in the train and indeed there were people walking past calling out various phrases such as, "Chai, chai, masala chai" over and over and over ad nauseum. The chai was not nearly as good as any chai we had in our whole trip, but flavoured hot water was still not a bad thing to have on a cold winter night. The rest of the food options were...not very attractive. I asked them what were in those paper containers so they peeled the cover back for me to see a few slices of bread and a few chunks of fried...stuff. I never thought anything could be less appetizing than airplane meals, but I found it.

Thankfully there was a snack cart at the train station in Jaisalmer before all this began, and you should never go to war without enough ammo. At least, that's my personal policy.

Not taking any of this lightly

That...should be enough to last me 18 hours. Also we brought our own bottled mineral water, which I actually finished.

Interestingly, sometimes the train was travelling forwards, while other times we travelled backwards. And there was a lot of this to-and-fro changing. Presumably there was some looping through the large number of stops between Jaisalmer and Delhi. And this was supposed to be the express train. I wonder what a regular train would be like if an express train took 18 hours.

I realized how much more advantageous it was to be male when taking the train. The toilet was...functional but challenging. Yes, I think that's the most appropriate way of putting it. There's no running water, despite there being two sinks and an extra water outlet that seemed to end above a mug next to the hole in the floor toilet. No, I don't know what the mug is for, nor could I find out how to operate any of the taps. I washed my hands with bottled water.

The walls are somewhat gunky and I wouldn't recommend touching anything as much as possible. Add in trying to keep your balance on a shaky train without spilling anything and you get an idea of what a toilet experience is like on the train. It was a little like navigating the Wave House at Sentosa. Lower in intensity for sure, but you definitely don't want to slip. It might make more sense to go when the train is stopped at a station, on hindsight.

I'm sorry if you were hoping for a picture, but there's no way in hell I'm risking any sort of equipment to get a photo. It's actually not too terrible just looking at it. In fact, it's somewhat comparable to a regular coffee shop squat toilet. Just with dingier walls, a door that doesn't close properly, no flush and no running taps. Oh, and it's shaking around most of the time.

Here's a photo of what our train looks like on the outside, as compensation

The other 3 people in our cabin were the unnamed Indian man sleeping above Yinghao's bunk, and 2 nice old ladies from South Africa, one of whom I had to share sitting space with. It was great to have some company to talk to, and I found it quite amazing that they opted for the 18 hour train ride because they wanted to experience something different after their 2 weeks of travel in India (with guides). I'm not sure I would be able to take such a train ride when I'm 70. We spoke about travelling, Africa, India, Southeast Asia, it was all jolly good conversation. Also, hearing about history from the perspective of someone who had actually lived through it was fascinating. Mandela, the apartheid, the mess in Johannesburg, all of it.

Hm, I just realized I don't actually have a picture with them. Alas.

I thought an 18 hour train ride would be excruciating considering the longest one I had taken before this was only 8 hours, but I slept through half of it and the other half flew by through a combination of conversation, music and games on my phone.

So we finally got to Old Delhi Railway station and found that our accomodation was 3km away. The moment we get out of the platform we're accosted again by half a dozen touts trying to sell tuk-tuk services, accommodation, food, everything under the sun.

Interestingly, we were quoted 80 Rupees by Uber for the ride, which somehow worked out to 170 Rupees after charges. We were however, quoted 200 Rupees by the tuk-tuk drivers, who eventually tried to settle for 150 Rupees. 170 Rupees in an air-conditioned 4-wheeled vehicle with boot space vs 150 Rupees in a 3-wheeled open air vehicle with not nearly enough space? Not sure there's even a basis for comparison here. 170 Rupees = $4, 150 Rupees = $3.40

In fact, this was actually a trend in India where the Uber rides were consistently half the price of regular taxis and even competitive against the tuk-tuks. At this rate some people might out of jobs soon. Only worked in cities and touristy areas though, and there was a downside that we had to wait over 20 minutes for a vehicle that seemed to be "5 minutes away". Why that was the case would soon be revealed to us.

We got into our vehicle, I slept for what felt like an eternity, and we got to our hotel. It turns out that I had actually been sleeping for almost 45 minutes. Now if you remember, our destination was only 3km away. That's slower than I can walk. Apparently I missed a lot of grid lock, inching, horning, vehicles going against traffic, perpendicular to traffic flow, and a whole lot of waiting. Whee.

The rest of the day was spent freshening up, hunting for food and going to the Red Fort, which I only came to know about from playing Civilization 5. Who said that games were only for entertainment? We also walked about 2km to find KFC. A little embarrassing initially, but those 10 pieces of fried chicken were the best thing we ate since...hm. Possibly since the last time we went to KFC a week ago in Surat.

At the Red Fort (which we did not enter as it was closing), there was an even more extreme version of the selfie phenomenon.

The macho pose phenomenon

It was fascinating. I'm not sure what was worse, the fact that they stood there for 5 minutes in various poses, sometimes having their picture taken, sometimes with selfies, or the fact that we stood there watching them. I feel a little ashamed of  myself now. Also there was another group doing the same thing, but the most amazing part was that between the 4 of them they had one pair of shades, and they took turns using the pair of shades for pictures.

Photo of the actual Red Fort

Because you know, this was actually the attraction we came to see. Unfortunately because I'm an uncultured lout I really can't tell you too much more about it, except it was a Mughal Fort as opposed to the Rajput Forts in Rajasthan.

Been quite a long post, this one. If you're still here thanks for reading, and here's something to think about if you would order it. We had the chance but we...did not make the adventurous choice.

Apparently it's a real dish. Just with a a somewhat unfortunate name

Cheerios,
Jik
https://give.asia/movement/rickshaw_run_-_driving_for_charity

P.S. Now that we've stopped driving maybe it's more appropriate to call it "writing for charity". Hah.

Day 19 : Sweet glorious triumph. Or a sort of half-stumble, half-limp followed by a really long train ride

This is it, folks. The final stretch. The home run. The last lego block that completes The Death Star. The last Jenga piece that collapses the tower.

Oh wait, maybe not the last one.

After yesterday's emergency repairs Catbus seems to be roaring to life again and we decide to wake up early to try to get to Jaisalmer in time. Plans are derailed swiftly by personal inability to wake up early, and also because it was raining.

Rain??? At this time of the year? I briefly considered that notion early on in the trip since my bag was strapped onto the top of Catbus and hence most susceptible to getting drenched. But we didn't really give it much thought afterwards as it seemed like rain would never come, this being the dry winter season and all.

Thankfully the rain cleared up quick. Also somewhat thankfully, we didn't make the full jump into Jaisalmer because it had been raining there the whole day and it was absolutely miserable.

Still, the rain meant that the sun wasn't out so it was a lot colder than we had bargained for. I was prepared for 12 degrees in cities not 9 degrees in an open air vehicle. It was disastrous. I don't think I've been so cold in my life, and I've been in the arctic circle. It was largely due to my poor clothing choices though. I only had two long-sleeved shirts, my gloves, two pairs of pants, and two scarves. Not nearly enough as the biting wind cut through my layers like a hot knife through butter.

I had about 4 pairs of shorts and 5 t-shirts laughing mockingly from my bag. Also, the metaphor involving a hot knife was terrible.

BUT. Three hours of absolute suffering later, we roll past the finish line in victory! In fact, it's safe to say that the last 3 hours were tougher than the rest of the trip put together, even considering the food poisoning, purely spicy/vegetarian meal options and terrible road conditions.

Oh yea. We made it. On time

We were the first team to make it on 15th Jan (although not the first to deregister), putting us at 26th place out of 80 teams. Although I don't think it was really a competition against anyone other than ourselves, the forces of nature and maybe the unfortunate choice of vehicle.

We lined up for the victory parade around town, with a whole bunch of tuk-tuks blaring their horns and going like madmen. Of course someone decides to be an actual madman, doing bad overtaking stunts and mooning other drivers before slamming into a motorbike, flipping his tuk-tuk and sending his teammate (seated on the roof rack) arcing into the sky and slamming face first into the ground a good 20 metres away.

We got off to see if he was okay and he sagely said, "I'm not getting back into that vehicle." No shit. Wouldn't it be a real story if you made it all the way to the finish line, just to be killed by your teammate in a completely unnecessary blaze of glory? Yeah, I thought not.

Note the distance between the green tuk-tuk (which crashed) and the person who did a poor Superman impression on Yinghao's right. I'm very impressed that he could stand up.

Still, nobody died, everything was righted quickly and life seemed to go on as per normal. So quickly in fact, that in the time it took for me to get the camera to fire they had un-flipped the tuk-tuk. Fascinating. Such a stark contrast to the cameras, arguing, and 4D number-taking in Singapore.

Like the cool kids that we were we didn't stay on for the party festivities or anything else but instead went to a desert safari, complete with camel rides and campfire.

Veritable Arab princes, we are

Wenwen is very happy with her camel

So cute

Things rapidly chilled once the sun started setting, thankfully there was a campfire which got a lot bigger because a Danish guy on the same tour was really good at making fires. Figures them Scandinavians would be good at fires.

Sweet warmth

Sunset on the desert

Had dinner on a sand dunes, and I was faced with the unfortunate choice (again) of spicy beans or vegetables. Never thought I would ever hear myself utter this line...

"More veg please."

That's what happens when you're cold, hungry and desperate.

The other group slept in the desert for the night. Were we more well prepared and better rested we might have gone for it, but instead we opted for the jeep ride back to the warmth and safety of our hotel.

Side note: if you ever stay in Jaisalmer, I highly recommend The Hotel Gulaal. It has a whopping 9.5 review score on TripAdvisor over ~200 reviews and it really lives up to it. It even has a restaurant in it with pretty good breakfast and cooked meals too.

Next up, the 18-hour Indian Railway and the madness of Delhi.

Cheerios, Jik
https://give.asia/movement/rickshaw_run_-_driving_for_charity

Day 17-18 : A Tale of Two Cities

We plod on towards Jodhpur, and we're making pretty good time. I attribute this to our well-restedness at Udaipur as well as our general lack of adventure on the road, choosing to stick to fairly main roads all the way. For once we might actually be able to reach a major city before sunset and be able to look around.

As the saying goes, "don't count your chickens before they hatch."

That's right, just under 50km out of Jodhpur something in the engine gives way, and our vehicle rapidly loses power, eventually coming to a complete stop. That's no good. Yinghao fires it up again, but we have no 4th gear, and 3rd is barely getting there. After a little bit we putter to a stop again.

Our brave chief mechanic decides to have a look at the engine. We go at it, or rather, he goes at it while I watch from the sidelines and hold a tube here and there in an attempt to be helpful.

I'm learning the fine art of Eye Power

The throttle cable seems loose, so the good doctor, like a good doctor, fashions a splint out of the nearest hard object he can find. In this case being our screwdriver. Yep, he duct tapes a screwdriver into the engine like a modern day MacGyver.

Impressive, isn't it?

A couple of teams pass us, some Swiss guys stop and offer help and tips regarding the carburetor, and eventually we fit everything back and head off again. We probably spent a good hour start-stalling and fixing, so much so that the sun has set while we were on the road, meaning the temperature also starts dropping rapidly.

Today's sunset shot, taken in less-than-ideal circumstances

Catbus still wasn't able to sustain 4th gear, so we half-limp, alternating from 3rd to 4th into Jodhpur. What should have taken us an hour eventually takes closer to two, and we try asking around for an auto mechanic and get about a half-size different answers. Exactly what we were briefed about on Day 1.

It eventually takes us maybe another half an hour and a lot of asking/blind driving before we pull up at a tuk-tuk parking area with a mechanic.

Lots of tuk-tuks

Immediately the English-speaking drivers accost us and start trying to sell everything from rides to driving services to their grandmother's used glasses.

One particular taxi driver is really pushy and sets off all our scammer alarms, but we don't really have a choice. Also, the mechanic looks legit but he doesn't speak any English so the scamjob guy does the translation which I'm sure he's not doing well because we ask to check the carburetor but it never gets touched. At last the mechanic asks Yinghao to drive and he seems to diagnose the problem and gets us a new spark plug.

Meanwhile the taxi driver is trying to sell us gear cables, throttle cables, fuel and his first-born son.

The new spark plug seems to have fixed the problem so we ask how much it is. On behalf of his friend the taxi driver immediately shouts, "500 rupee!" And the mechanic just looks really stunned.

We bought a new spark plug for 70 rupees in Cochin, and labour isn't really that expensive around here.

I would have laughed and talked to the mechanic directly except he doesn't do any English, it's really late and there are a lot of them around which might put us at a disadvantage. We eventually settle on 400 which I press directly into the mechanic's hands. I hope the taxi driver doesn't wrangle any of it. May he always pick up passengers who let off farts of doom in his car.

Well. At least Catbus is running well again. Also, it wasn't that much in absolute terms. (400 rupee ~ $10) Still, left a bad taste in our mouths. One black sheep spoiling the reputation of everyone else.

Anyway. We manage to get a stay and check out Jodhpur Fort in the morning, which is pretty old and huge. Also had never been taken by force, which is quite impressive.

Catbus visits Jodhpur Fort

Really ornate architecture

Jodhpur, the Blue City

One of us receiving divine inspiration

We spend the better half of the day touring so we decide to make the drive short and stay in Pokaran instead of going straight to Jaisalmer. I find accommodation in an 18th century fort where the old king used as a palace and it sounds to good to pass up. I suspect it's still owned by the royal descendants and the retainers just run it for tourists.

Dining in the King's old dining room

We are the only guests in the hotel. Which makes the royal treatment that much more amazing. They even pushed our tuk-tuk into the fort grounds and closed the door to keep it safe - we had just parked it outside in the public area.

Unfortunately, the huge downside of living like 18th century royalty quickly shows. There's no heater in the room, the hot water is extremely sporadic at best and there is hardly any insulation. It's freezing.

Side note about the weather: it's been progressively getting colder as we head north but usually only the nights are cold. It was quite chilly up in the mountains but nothing we couldn't handle thus far.

Eventually we settle into cold and fitful sleep, determined to wake up and cross the finish line in time tomorrow for the victory parade at 1pm.

Cheerios, Jik

https://give.asia/movement/rickshaw_run_-_driving_for_charity

Day 16 : Not the usual post

Dear readers, I apologise for today's change of pace and content because we are not doing any suffering today.

Because accumulated fatigue is real and because Udaipur was just so beautiful we decided to blow a whole chunk of our budget on an extra day here in sinful opulence. Whoops.

On the bright side it didn't actually cost that much, such is the wonders of international economics and superior currency.

With that I present...Udaipur. Voted Best City in the World by an online poll in 2009, definitely worth that title.

Catbus is happy with a real parking lot

As was previously mentioned by Yinghao, this was the first time that parking had become an actual consideration when choosing accommodation. The streets seemed way too dangerous a place to leave Catbus, especially considering the deposit we put down for her safe return.

Breakfast was a happy affair at the rooftop restaurant in the hotel with nice city views and heating. Also, Nutella and bread. Nutella. Mm.

Idyllic pool, complete with suntanning angmoh

On a side note, the temperatures are really cold. We're talking like 10 degrees in the morning kind of cold. And here someone is fearlessly suntanning. It totally boggles my mind. Meanwhile we were wrapped up like Christmas presents in sweaters.

The big attraction of the city was the City Palace, one of 3 palaces around Udaipur, and also the one where the Maharajah currently resides.

Doesn't actually capture the whole palace

We also had a great guide who brought context to a lot of the things we were seeing, talked about the history and culture of Udaipur as well as the surrounding areas. Apparently, since it's founding Udaipur had always been an independent city, up to the point it joined India during its independence from the British.

Some close scrutiny going on

Other than places there's also a pretty large temple involving a mix of pilgrims, priests and tourists. I'm not really a temple-y kind of guy but the carvings and architecture were pretty impressive.

Udaipur is known as the City of Lakes, due to the large lakes that surround the city, created over the years by an intricate lake and river system, providing irrigation and water for the city.

As in theme with living it up, we had to take a sunset boat ride. I mean, why not? It's cheaper than a river cruise in Singapore and infinitely more picturesque.

Celebrity Wenwen gets an upgrade to Princess Wenwen

Private boat, yo.

That's pretty much the entire palace. It's huge.

These Maharajahs really know how to live it up. There's even a man made island in the middle of the lake that serves as the King's personal helipad. Only accessible via his personal boat, moored at his personal dock somewhere at the bottom of that huge structure.

It's a hotel in the middle of the lake

The king also leased out some of his land to a hotel situated in the middle of the lake, accessible only by private boat. For the low price of $1000 a night you too can live in absolute swankiness as you gaze out over at the peasantry. I briefly considered if we could fit that in our budget, although I quickly realized the real question was whether we should. I might come back if I win the lottery.

Suddenly, birds.

Good night from Udaipur

It's almost like someone painted the mountains in the background.

Well, on to Jodhpur for real!

Cheerios,
Jik
https://give.asia/movement/rickshaw_run_-_driving_for_charity