Bhutan is a tiny country nestled between 2 giants, India and Nepal.  It is the last Buddhist kingdom, and even though it has less than 1 million people, it thrives; nestled high in the Himalaya. You need a guide to enter and explore Bhutan as a tourist, and as strange as it sounds, we  had found our guide through Nateon’s late mother Fran.

A few weeks before our trip, Nateon’s father ran into Fran’s former neurologist, Dr. Joel Ryder, at a local party in Santa Rosa. As they caught up they recognized Dr. Ryder and learned he would be volunteering in Bhutan the same week we were expecting to arrive. This was encouraging, as we were without a guide we were still and unable to secure our visas – so we emailed Joel, one thing led to another, and before you know it we had our visas and were booked for Bhutan.

Dr. Joel Rider and his wife Charlotte with us after we met up in Bhutan

Through local San Francisco company GeoEx we roadmapped 7 days of touring Bhutan with support from the Dr.’s friend and favorite guide – Ugyen. Ugyen loves to ride bike, manages a bike shop,  is a local champion of Bhutans “Tour of the Dragon,” and definitely appreciated the fact that we would be arriving at the border by bike.  We met Ugyen in Phuentsholing that afternoon after meeting the family in Bengal, and doing a fair amount of searching for the correct border crossing. Ugyen was ‘on the Indian side,’ so at first our cell phones didn’t work, but after a few tries we heard back from him, and he arrived with a warm smile and a healthy curiosity about our strange bike setup.

Ugyen practicing one of his favorite hobbies

Ugyen pointed out the hotel location and we rode up.  The hotel was by far the nicest of any that we had seen, and as staff carried our backpacks up to our room, we smiled and realized that this part of the trip would be very different from riding India and Nepal.  Large, clean room, warm water, western toilet, view of the city, a clean room and warm water, warm water and a clean room – we very excited and ready to be spoiled and comfortable.

The gate to Phuentsholing, at the border of Bhutan and India

The next day we met Tsring, our driver, and headed up the hill to the capital, Thimpu.  And by hill I mean gigantic 8000 foot mountains.  The road meandered for 180 kilometers, a small ledge cut into giant cliffs.  Halfway up we got out of the truck and had a chance to ride and enjoy the beauty of the mountains.

Next we got to explore Thimpu, the bustling capital of Bhutan.  At less than 100,000 people, it is a clean, beautiful, and easy to manage city.  We saw the many hand-made arts and crafts that we had heard so much about, as well as men practicing Bhutan’s national sport: Archery (Except their targets are 450 feet away….and tiny!)

Men practicing archery.  The colored flags represent the amount of targets they’ve hit.

Ugyen took us all over town, showed us the female monastery, the local school for traditional art, and the Buddhist monuments.  We had only been in Bhutan for a couple days, and already had experienced so much.  On thing is for sure, Bhutan has plenty of culture, and a plentiful desire to share that culture.  (More to come in “Bhutan Part 2″….)

Our pace turned out to be far slower than what expected, partially because we are slow (or we “move at our own pace” as I like to say), but also because it was over 100 degrees on average, we would meet interesting people and want to spend some time with them, we got an extremely potent stomach bug in India, and….well, this kind of travel just takes time.

So we had to make up for it.  In Pokhara we were 832 kilometers from the border of Bhutan, Phuentsholing; and we had 3 days to get there.  Flights are very expensive and difficult to manage, especially at the last minute, so we decided on taking a bus, which would get us to the Nepal/India border, 209 kilometers from Bhutan.  The only thing was there were no “tourist” buses, only local “Nepali” buses that go direct.  These are the ones you can see in our pictures….loaded with people and crap with little to no suspension as we would soon learn.

The bus ride ended up taking 15 hours, in uncomfortable seats, with uncomfortable smells, and was very bumpy. When we would hit a bump, we would fly out of our seats. When we hit a big bump, I would fly up and hit my head on the ceiling, awakened from my restless sleep. There would be no real sleep on this overnight trip.

After 15 surreal hours, we arrived in Chandragadhi, Nepal, the border town with India. Having gotten no real sleep, we were pretty out of it, and felt pretty disgusting, so when we were invited to rent a hotel for a few dollars for a few hours we went for it. We got cleaned up and were directed to a local spot for some fried eggs and Roti (little tortilla-like Naan breads). There we met a local travel agent, who just happened to apply for a US visa to visit California and was very interested in which sights to see. Eager to share our local knowledge we said we would help him out, and he was thrilled. He generously bought our breakfast for us and invited us to his travel office, where I proceeded to draw him a map of California, the redwoods, wine country, the Hollywood sign, Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, etc…. until he had more than enough for his month of travel. In return he helped us figure out how we would navigate to the border of Bhutan in one day….which is what we were down to at this point.

Tired but excited to go back into India we crossed the border, and headed toward Siliguri on one of the worst roads we had seen yet on the trip. We navigated small rocky roads by saying “Siliguri” and pointing in different directions, waiting for the approving nod. We rode about 50 kilometers through beautiful neatly kept tea fields of the Darjeeling district to Siliguri, a relatively large and affluent town. We spent the night in a nice hotel in Siliguri, and they helped us find a train to Hasimari the next day, which would put us about 20 kilometers from the border.

We got up early, threw all our stuff into a rickshaw, drove to the train station, got to the platform and bought a ticket for almost $2.00 (US total). The train was 45 minutes late of course….but well worth it. With the help of a porter, we got on and enjoyed chai and some rest on a smooth and beautiful ride to Hasimara through a national park. After almost missing the stop (The station was so small we only noticed at the last minute), we raced out of the train. We assembled our bikes at the train station while the passengers watched captivated, and rode off toward Bhutan.

Making good time we were planning on meeting our guide Ugyen around 1:00 PM, until we decided to stop for a soda a few kilometers from the border. As we prepared to get on our bikes to leave after our break, a man approached Pam and asked if we wanted to come in for some tea. Not excited to do any more riding in the heat, and excited for the chance to meet some new people, we agreed. We went inside and they sat us down and invited the whole neighborhood to visit. They kindly gave us tea, crackers, and water, and introduced us to the whole family for nice conversation. Not to be outdone, the neighbors then invited us into their house and fed us sliced papaya, mango juice, and eggs and toast. Now thoroughly stuffed, the family showed us their amazing artwork including paintings and knitting…and after we had a photo session where both sides took many pictures of each other. It really was a lovely exchange, and goes to show that you don’t have to go very far for a bicycle to be your “Vahana” and bring you into someone else’s world.

Leaving Hasimara Train Station

Tea Estate in West Bengal

As of today we have lived a full month not knowing where we’d be sleeping that night or the next day. The unknown can be scary, but once we faced it, we loved the freedom. The people and the wonderful meetings. The freedom of the road. The unknown. This is why it was extra special when a Bengalese family invited us in from the scorching heat for tea and a meal.  Their kindness, like so many in India, made us feel like we were their guest – as if they were expecting us.

We shared stories, talked about our families, our mothers and their similar crochet and knitting skills. We found common ground and enjoyed each other’s company for nearly two hours. Some members of the family washed up and changed clothes while we “took tea and cookies.” Seeing their transition from a regular clothes to even nicer attire demonstrated how they felt our visit to be a special occasion. The family gathered to take a photo capturing us with four generations. The women held my hand or squished up against my shoulders real tight. Solidarity.

Before we left the family enthusiastically gifted us a copy of their holy book, the Bhagavad-Gita. A bittersweet moment as we rode our final day in India.

What did stand out were our Bike Friday bikes. After our first afternoon in Pokhara the ice cream shop kids, local restaurant and hotel staff all made bike riding gestures or talked bikes with us every time we’d see eachother.

The first evening in town was a recovery day. It was also our chance to change hotels from the doozy we stumbled upon in our exhausted state the night before. Once we were settled, took part in some mild tourist food and ice cream, we were ready for our trek to see the famous Annapurna range.

Our first day trekking was short due to a late start and another thunder storm, which had us a little uncomfortable after our close call the night before. We decided to stop at a guest house just a few kilometers in, which turned out to be a lovely place with guest rooms above the lodge’s kitchen, a window overlooking the garden and terraced wheat field. We watched the rain and lightening throughout the early evening and got to bed early.

An interesting thing about Annapurna circuit…. You really don’t need to bring much since there are small villages scattered along the trail with restaurants, tea and guest houses. The park has turned into an ecosystem where the hikers use the guest houses, and the guest houses are supported by the hikers.

Our plan was to do a loop from the town of Nayapul, where you get dropped off, to Gorakpur, up to Poon Hill, then to Gandruk, and back out again. They said this should take us 3 days at the very least, but we figured we could do it in 2 since time was getting short for us and we had to make our way over to Bhutan to (I wince as we write this) stay on schedule.

The next day we trekked just after breakfast beginning with a dirt road which became a stone path mostly of stairs. It’s an elevation gain from 2,500 feet to 9,000 feet. At lunch time we were at about 6,000 and enjoyed a hearty lunch outside overlooking a valley, the terracing and enjoying the goats, mules and puppy at the lodge.(note: A lunch that took nearly an hour to come to the table because it is fresh, from chopping the vegetables to preparing the dough….a spring roll IS a spring roll in Nepal and definitely worth the wait)

We stayed at the large “See You” lodge in Ghorapani that evening and met kind man who was a guide out of Kathmandu who advised us to take rest and see Poon Hill at sunrise. Fantastic. It’s also worth getting up at 5 am to see the sunrise when the view is also 360 degrees of Himalayan mountains. We’ve seen them in many photos of The North Face expeditions, films and online…yet seeing them in person makes the heart go pitterpatter. Breathtaking. These mountains are hard to explain…they are massive, beautiful, reaching into heaven. By 6 am the summit often can’t be seen any longer due the cloud cover…

After our 2nd night and waking up in Ghorapani/making our way to Poon Hill, we planned to push hard to get through Ghandruk and out to the jeeps to return to Pokhara and on to Bhutan the following day. This was our plan, but of course we were reminded, one can’t rush in the mountains. As the day wore on, our hopes of getting to the trailhead began to fade as the use of our legs also began to fade.

We met 3 kind porters who carried ~90 pounds each and we kept pace with as they traveled with a gregarious group from Germany. When we sat for rests with them and we mentioned our plans, they shook their heads no and suggested we walk “slowly, slowly.” Late in the day after many descending steps and many Rhododendron groves, we stumbled into Ghandruk. As we discussed if we would push on for another hour, it began to rain, and we decided to stay put for one more night.

At sunrise, we were treated again to fresh mountain air, stronger (albeit sore) legs, and a stunning view of Annapurna South that we couldn’t see in the haze the evening before. We passed through Gandruk Village center and eventually out to the trailhead.

By noon we were back in Pokhara and rowing the calm Phewa Lake to visit the Tal Bahari temple. A blissful day granted to us by the mountains telling us to move slowly.

We approached the Nepal border around 10 a.m., it was raining and muddy dirt road. There was a line of cargo trucks probably more than 100 deep. We carefully pedaled around them, along with motorcycles, pedestrians and small cars, to get to Sunauli-the small town that is the border crossing. We stopped to have our India visas stamped for exit then located the Nepal customs office to acquire Nepal visa. The officers and locals were again very interested in our bikes and created conversation.

From there we rode about 20 km of flat, which even in the rain is relatively easy riding until Butwal, at the foot of the Himalaya. Cycling in Nepal we immediately noticed the less crowded streets and more considerate drivers.

We arrived in Butwal around 4 p.m. after pedaling all day in the rain. Butwal is a large city with many hotels which I (Pam) felt quite inviting, especially with the steep mountains looming in the distance. Nateon was anxious to get into the mountains, up and away from the flats and the people. So we did, and it proved worthwhile.

The climb is immediate on a much smaller version of the Siddhartha highway at this point. It became cooler, calmer, and gentler on us. The scenery changed completely.

After 2 weeks of flat riding, dense population, new traffic rules and crazy traffic, zero privacy and high temps of more than 100 degrees…. The cool air and peace was a timely transition.

About 10 km into the Himalaya we found the “River Site resort” with mud yurts and nice gardens and many sunflowers all around. It was the perfect place to spend our first night in the mountains. The water pump wasn’t working, so the staff brought a bucket of cold water for use and bathing — suitable for a yurt stay.

We set out the next morning, continuing North winding through the Himalaya. At our lunch stop it was recommended we spend the evening in Tansen, known for its high elevation and beauty like a little Darjeeling. We pedaled 7-8 hours uphill with the goal in mind. As we approached Tansen, exhausted, we realized it was set at the very top of a huge hill in the distance. The last hours of daylight we slowly made our way there, found a hotel. At 4,000 feet the views were spectacular.

The following day was characterized by long, long downhills and unbelievable views. We were aiming to arrive in Waling, however due to a late start (some may call it recovery), we were 20km short and landed in Galyang at sunset. From there we prepared for our final push, 80 km, Pokhara, which we knew from these few days on this terrain would not be easy–so we set out at 7am.

Our assumptions were correct, it was a very demanding day.

Climbing up 4,000 foot passes only to descend back down to 2,000 feet and do it all over again (thanks Suunto watch for the elevation info), was extremely difficult with our loaded bikes. Near the end of the day while rounding the crest of a mountain road we saw some thunder clouds rolling in and a light sprinkle quickly turned into a thunder/lighting storm. The loud thunder was already making us uncomfortable (read: freaking us out) so when lightning struck a few hundred feet away, followed by a downpour, we had to pull over to collect ourselves. We took it as a sign that we needed to get moving to lower ground and reach our destination.

But we had a long way to go.

As the sun set we approached the final 1,500 foot downhill, winding road that took us to Pokhara where we could recover by the Fewa Lake. We were excited to try Nepali versions of Western food that we haven’t had in a few weeks. We acquired permits for a brief trek on the Annapurna circuit, heading out today.

It took two days to bicycle to the Nepal border. The first 20 miles was not quite as busy as the rest of India, though when we encountered people we received more smiles, waves, questions and only a very occasional disgusted look.

The beginning of the second day on the first 1/4 mile we pedaled past a family of monkeys (who typically are playful or apathetic) but today one snarled at us! We pedaled the flatland and, around lunchtime, were approached by a man who was riding his bike in the same direction. He was very excited to see us, our bikes and gear and what we were doing to immerse ourselves in India. He approached Nateon and asked with a smile “would you come to my house for lunch?”

Immediately the two possible outcomes flashed in Nateon’s mind, one was that it could be an incredible experience meeting a local and his family or…. he had a gang of buddies waiting in the next town to rob us. As we rode the next 30 miles he would offer us tea and food at the small tea shacks. We would sit and chat and he insisted on paying, even when he didn’t eat anything himself.

By the time we made it to his hometown of Nautanwal, we had a pretty good feeling about him. The first stop was at his young son’s community home school. There we met Neelu, the teacher and mother of the house, who had begun the school just 8 months prior as part of her sister’s organization Wahoe Commune (more on that later!).

At this point it was time for us to go have lunch with the man, Hari. Hari’s wife made an enormous, delicious meal of rice, daal and vegetables. The house was one room, a humble home, filled with books and house items. We sat on the day bed while Hari perched on a stool to enjoy the meal and talk with him, his wife and 7 year old son.

Turns out Hari is a book salesman and CFL repairman (they don’t recycle CFL here, they fix and make them work again), who travels to all jobs by bicycle. This can mean distances of 50 km each way per job.

We left he house to spend the afternoon at the Wahoe school and while Pam joined a class and talked with the kids, Hari hung out with Nateon all afternoon.

As they hung out, Nateon asked Hari if, as a book salesman he enjoyed books — he replied “books are okay, but I like people.”

Meeting Hari and his family was an unexpected gift on our way to the Nepal border.

Our first day in Varanasi was a recovery day as we both had acquired a stomach bug, Nateon’s more serious than mine. Late afternoon we took a walk around the neighborhood which offered similar sights and smells as many we had seen…various food carts, shops, cows, people, traffic and small piles of burning trash on the side of the road.

As we returned to the hotel a rickshaw driver offered us a lift, instead we made an agreement to meet at 5 a.m. the next morning to get to the Ganges River for sunrise. It was a beautiful morning to be in the rickshaw and making our way to the river. By 5:30 a.m. we were in a boat with a 70 year old ‘driver’ (rower) who showed us the sights. The river is huge and beautiful. At sunrise hundreds of people bathe, fish, meditate and do laundry at the water’s edge. Families gather and children play. We exchanged many smiles and good mornings with the people there.

We returned to the river, with the same rickshaw driver, in the evening after a day of sightseeing and temple visits. Then we saw what the river is known for, the Aarti ceremony, a very special ritual of Hindu worship and expression of love for God. Hundreds if not thousands of people gather every evening for the ceremony at ~6:30 p.m. We also floated over to the ghats where the cremations take place. This is a very sacred place and photos are not allowed. The peacefulness and beauty of these ceremonies was unexpected.

After the ring ceremony we hopped a bike taxi which transferred us to rickshaw to make our way to temple. When we arrived we could see the many vendors selling flowers and foods as part of the Navratri celebration. We walked down the dirt road with a group of very curious children smiling and practicing their English “ha low”

When we reached the temple we removed our shoes, worried to leave them behind the guards assured us they would be ok. Difficult to believe, we walked in bidding farewell to them.

The color, beauty, people, sounds of bells and celebration surrounded us- and from that a guru emerged to say hello and to join him for a walk through the temple.

At the first stop we bowed to the goddesses and our foreheads were smudged with orange in honor. Later we honored other Hindu gods while the guru encouraged us to enjoy and take pictures. We are still reading about this wonderful celebration, there is good information here.

As we rounded the corner he offered us chai, a favorite!, and this have us more time to sit together. The Guru’s apprentices laid out a blanket for us to sit on and we sat together to share coconut, fruit and biscuits while we sipped the chai. Many people came to say hello.

After our time together we have a humble donation to the temple and rang the bells. We exited the temple and rang another bell as we said goodbye. There are many reasons to ring the bell, because it produces an auspicous sound and the sound of “om.” To ensure prayers are heard, or to show presence. All of these feel appropriate for what we experienced here.

Our shoes were safe and sound and our rickshaw driver was kindly waiting to walk back down the dirt road with us. The blessings here are rich and plenty.

As we got closer to Etawah we began looking for a place to sleep. According ‘the Internet’ maps checked the night before, there were a couple options, one called hotel Krishna. Turned out to be a truckstop for the many trucks of goods carriers and they turned us away. Disappointed, we pedaled on for another 12 km to find the town of Etawah as the sun began to set.

As we arrived in Etawah the warm welcome was clear. Many local people rolled along with us, bike taxis, children and some motorcycles. They had lots of questions including where we are from, where our bikes come from, where we are going, and why are we here. Answers: America, America, (name next town or Varanasi) and… To see India and you, which often made them laugh but of course is the truth.

The group traveled with us to the local hotel where we logged in. India Gov policy is for all travelers to not only sign in but for copy of passport, Visa and travel plans to be on file.

We woke up in Etawah with plans to pedal on but the town had more in mind for us. After breakfast we stopped at the Internet cafe where we met Abhay who told us about the local temple Navratri celebration and highly encouraged a visit. We returned to the hotel to check out, gather our bikes and packs and possibly stop by the Temple on our way.

As we stood in the lobby, a kind and happy gentleman I had smiled at several times throughout the day approached us and explained that his daughter had become engaged and they were hosting the ring exchange ceremony in the banquet room of our hotel. He invited us to participate. We asked for a later checkout so we could see the ceremony and join the family for lunch in honor of the couple.

The ceremony was beautiful with many customs throughout (that the brides cousin explained for us and allowed us to view up close) the bride enters the room more than an hour before the groom to kneel on stage with the Hindu Priest and pray as well as give and receive offerings. Gifts of fruit and sweets are brought by her family for the groom’s family and sit to the left of the stage. The bride’s younger sister serves as what we know as maid of honor, ensuring the bride is taken care of through preparations and the day.

Many more rituals and photos to share from this event and subsequent lunch which was so inviting we decided to remain in Etawah for another day. Upon leaving the function and thanking the father of the bride for his generosity he asked” You were going to leave this morning?” Yes. “And I invited you to stay?” Yes. “And now you are going to stay in Etawah for another day?” Yes.

“So it is me who is grateful.”

From the outside India appears unmanageable. The trepidation we entered with is smoothed over by the warm and welcoming people who tell us “you are my guest.”

When we decided to start our journey from Agra, it was because New Dehli seemed too big, unsafe, and unmanageable.  What we quickly realized after our first few pedals was that Agra was a huge city as well, hectic and difficult to manage, even if it’s smaller by Indian standards.

We managed to navigate the traffic and make it out of the city to the countryside, where we finally got to see rural India. But no matter how rural, it never failed….when we stopped to take a break, we were immediately surrounded by people. And that is how its been, every day since. Nevertheless, they have mostly been kind, helpful when they can be, and good natured.

It’s hot here.  Really hot.  105 degrees on average. Every good shady spot on the side of the road is taken up by a truck stop or kiosk with random stuff.  It’s amazing how the people here can just take the heat……they’re tough.  AC is as rare as internet, and electricity isn’t a constant.  But everyone has a cell phone, and they all want pictures with us.

The roads have been really good, surprisingly.  We have learned to ride on the left side if the road and pedaled the main road from Agra to Kanpur, and luckily for us it is full of all types of traffic…everything from people walking, to other bikes, to donkey/camel carts, boars, camels, motorcycles, rickshaws, buses, trucks….and maybe about 10 other types I can’t think of at the moment.  But they are all used to each other, and once you learn the system it all works.

The best part has definitely been the people.  Very curious, cooperative, questioning, and quick to help when we need it.  That is of course if they can understand what we’re saying…there has been a serious language barrier that has been frustrating for both sides.  But we are learning Hindi, one word at a time.

So far the bicycle has been our Vahana, as it always is… transporting us from crowded tourist cities, off the beaten path to meet some wonderful, genuine people.  We’re not sure what this fabulous and frustrating country has left in store for us, but we are eager to find out.