Day 6: Back in the saddle

We have not had any internet access since the first day, but are happy to report that in the interim we have graduated from the Rickshaw School of Hard Knocks and are ready to take on whatever India's roads have in store for us.

Day 2 was fairly uneventful, as we drove from Vellore to Bangalore. In the morning, we had a chance to visit a school that the local Rotary club had sponsored. In addition to learning about the philantropic achievements of the local Rotarians, we enjoyed some tasty coconut juice straight from the fruit and received some fine flower wreaths. The monkeys also had a good time.

In the evening, the Bangalore Rotary club held a reception for us during which they made many eloquent speeches in which few words were spared greeting us and informing us about their many good deeds.



Day 3 took us from Bangalore to Hasan. In the morning, we visited the school and village that we had adopted as part of the rally. We distributed school supplies to the kids and they held a small reception for us (more flower wreaths). Curiously, one of the children decided that it would be a good idea to get the autographs of their new benefactors. The idea spread rapidly, and we spent about ten minutes signing the newly distributed notebooks and gaining newfound compassion for celebrities.

The school visit took us away from the rest of the rally, which was being escorted through and around Bangalore by a special convoy of Rotarians (yes, a pattern is emerging) in order to avoid the city's traffic and getting lost. We had the opportunity to work through Bangalore ourselves and quickly got lost for several hours. Somewhere along the way, however, a Red Bull truck saw us, recognized us as being part of the rally, and flagged us down. He could not help with directions, but provided us with four cans of icy-cold Red Bull to see us through the day.

Many head-bobbles and ambiguious hand-waves later, we ended up in the fine town of Hasan. In the evening, the local Rotary club held a reception for us during which the local girls held a dance performance that drew on the dress and dance styles of all corners of India. As we enjoyed another fine dinner, it slowly started to settle in that the Rotary Club may actually rule the world and that we were mere pawns in their overall scheme. Hasan has at least two claims to fame: it is the hometown of an Indian Prime Minister and one of the main starches that local consume is a millet-based, doughy, purple ball that cannot be chewed (gets stuck in the teeth) but must instead be taken in small chunks, coated in a sauce and swallowed. The effect of having a millet-ball meal is like eating a dinner comprised exclusively of tylenol capsules.






Day 4. Odysseus had Scylla & Charybdis, we had the road from Hasan to Mangalore. The road was treacherous, comprised of washed-out hairpin turns (it is monsoon season, after all) through mountainous terrain, none of which seemed to indicate a need for caution to the local tanker-truck drivers (see left).

Our beloved rickshaw started to show the effects of the Day 1 crash, as the front windshield fell into Jeff's lap fairly early in the day, and the center cross-bar holding up the roof collapsed. The silver lining was that we we had the opportunity to commune more closely with the monsoon that we were driving through. Also, what more could possibly go wrong? . . .

. . . The exact answer is that our suspension and axle could snap, rendering the rickshaw immobile. We were able to push it to a local village where the mechanic informed us that he would not be able to repair it. We ended up getting it towed--lashed to a jeep with a sturdy nylon rope and later loaded atop a small flatbed.






After hauling the rickshaw to Mangalore, we struck gold, as a local rickshaw driver guided us to the central mechanic compound where all of the taxi rickshaws go for repairs. The crew there had at our rickshaw A-Team style (yes, full B.A. Baracus blowtorch action in effect--sans protective mask, as is local custom) not only fixing the broken suspension/axle, but also mending the wounds from the Day 1 crash. They stayed (far) past their closing time (until 9pm) just for us and pulled out all of the stops to get us a new windshield, welded together the central cross-bar, and put in a new suspension/axle. Total cost: <$100.

Need to run . . .

Day 5. Mangalor to Batkhal, a lovely sea-side village where our hotel was on a rock surrounded on three sides by the ocean.

Day 6. Easy drive from Batkhal to Karwar with lots of lovely ocean views. In the evening, we had the opportunity to learn about a male solo dance bust-out that we will call "The Karwar," which we managed to capture in a brief clip: