It’s official. I’m excited. The reason? I’ve found some people who think a bit like I do. I’m sure those of you who know me are utterly shocked to discover this, but it’s true.

Who are these people, you might ask. And what deficiencies can they possibly have which allows me to state I have something in common with them. Well, quite simply, they are some guys who have traveled around the world and, although they enjoyed themselves immensely, came back thinking that something was missing.

I can’t claim to have been all around the world, but I’ve stopped off in a few countries during my time away from the UK. I’ve had awesome experiences in almost every country I’ve visited (sorry Bulgaria). However, when I heard about these folks, I could instantly relate to what they were talking about. They have the nerve to claim that people who go ‘travelling’ nowadays aren’t really doing it in the way God intended it. They think that, since the advent of Lonely Planet and other guide books, travelling has become staid and, dare I say it, a tad boring. To say boring might be dubbing it down too much, but predictable certainly sums it up. Guide books tell you what you’re going to see before you get there.

As a result of this kind of thinking The League Of Adventurists was born. Their philosophy is, “the world has been discovered, so we need to go out there and make it more interesting.”

I suppose I should explain why I’ve said all the above. Having a group of people thinking in this way is no good unless someone takes the initiative and turns it into action. Well, that is exactly what these crazy kids do. They think of a ridiculous idea for travelling from one place to another – something which mentally stable people would not even consider – and do it. Simple as that.

Lots of events have either already taken place or are currently in the pipeline, in countries such as Morocco, Mongolia, Vietnam and Jordan. All these trips seem great, but what has really got my interest is The Rickshaw Run in India.

The theory behind this event is very simple. Take a 3-wheeled vehicle, with an engine, that is half the size of a Reliant Robin and drive it 2,500 miles across India…… in two weeks! The more quick-witted of you might realise that this equates to just 178 miles per day. But how many of you have ever tried driving an auto-rickshaw that kind of distance in a day – outside of a major city!?

Around 70 teams will take part in this rally, which will start on 1^st January next year.

So the guys who say that travelling should be spontaneous and not arranged have gone ahead and organised a two week intensive travelling event. Are they hypocrites? Absolutely not.

The journey, from Kerala in South India to Kathmandu in Nepal, has no particular itinerary. The participants can take absolutely any route they like. This could potentially take them through deserts, across vast plains, up and down mountains and even off-road. It’s no holds barred. Anything goes. Accommodation, of course, is not provided or arranged beforehand. Each team takes their pick – tent, hotel or rickshaw. If any of the vehicles break down during the fortnight of fun the participants can rest assured that organisers will NOT assist them in any way. It’s either get the locals to help or fix it yourself.

It sounds like the perfect tonic for masochistic maniacs with a penchant for near-death experiences. Anyone who takes part in this sort of venture surely doesn’t value their life very much.

By the way, did I mention that I signed up for it yesterday.

Rickshaw Run, Life, Travel, India | 2 Comments »

My old man always used to say to me, “start as you mean to continue”. So that is exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to have a whinge, a moan, a good old fashioned grumble. What’s your beef, you might ask. Why do you want to fill one of your first blog entries with negative comments? My answer to you is that I’m British and complaining is what we’re best at. In fact, most people are disappointed nowadays if they meet someone from England and are not greeted with a barrage of whining. We like to indulge in self pity at the wrongs that have been done to us on a regular basis.

Add to my nationality the fact that I currently live in India and you will realise that this is the perfect cocktail for continual and incessant complaint. The locals here must think I’m a right grumpy sod. And they’re probably right.

Anyway, I was walking home from work last night and, as I turned the corner, I saw a sight which filled me with trepidation. Immediately in front of the building where I live, lots of men were scurrying around like ants, putting up some kind of structure. Nearing the hive of activity I realised to my horror that they were erecting a temporary temple. This could only mean one thing – noise. And lots of it.

That evening, as I relaxed in my room, I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that, even though many people were hanging around the temple, the kafuffle was not disturbing me greatly. Maybe I had been too hasty in assuming that these people would carry on their celebrations with no regard for anyone else. I had heard someone muttering something unintelligible over the PR system and a few Hindi songs had been played at a reasonable decibel level, but nothing too extreme.

At around 11pm, the time when it becomes illegal to play anything over a loud speaker, I decided to go to bed. No sooner had I put my head on the pillow than it started - a cacophony of sound which seemed to be aimed directly at my window. A live band was playing traditional, along with some contemporary, Hindi music, and a guy was mouthing off at the top of his voice as if it was the middle of the day. If I had been having a conversation with someone in my room I would have had to shout – that’s how loud it was.

When I closed my eyes, had I not been trying to sleep, it would have been an awesome experience. The volume and proximity of the music was such that it seemed as if the musicians were actually sat around my bed. I could hear the keyboards and singing ever so clearly and could have sworn that the drummer was sat just to my right, by the door. It was quite surreal. For about 5 minutes I tolerated, and almost enjoyed, the occasion. But then, when I realised it wasn’t going to stop any time soon, I started to get a bit irritated.

As 2am rolled around with no let up to the celebrations I was wondering if there was any way I could force them to put an end to the racket. But I realised that any attempts I made, legal or otherwise, would result in a severe beating from the locals, falling out of favour with the particular god they were worshipping and a great big wheelbarrow full of bad karma.

By 4am, as the ruckus still hadn’t showed any signs of dying down, I had resigned myself to the fact that I would be tired and moody at work the next day. And then, finally, at 6am, the music relented and the compere ceased with his inane drivel.

I have never known as much peace and tranquility as I did right then. My ears were ringing, but the silence was golden. I soon drifted off into serene slumber, only to be woken by a hawker at about 7am and my alarm clock at 8.

Oh India, what joys you abundantly supply me with.

Thoughts, Life, India | No Comments »

It is with great sadness that I bring you this update. I arrived back to my new apartment after work yesterday evening to find a most shocking and upsetting scene.

The pigeon’s egg was lying shattered on the kitchen surface. The new, unborn life inside, snuffed out like a candle when the power comes back on. It’s father nowhere to be seen. It’s mother hanging around outside, as if expecting the horrific incident she has experienced to suddenly undo itself.

Having not been around to experience the events as they unfolded I can only surmise as to what actually happened. I imagine the mother was going about her business in the kitchen when suddenly she lost her balance. Staggering across the shelf she just about managed to right herself in time to prevent a nasty fall. In doing so, her tail inadvertantly clipped the egg and set it rolling. As she turned to see what was happening, everything began to move in slow motion. Ever so slowly the egg moved towards the sheer drop represented by the shelf’s edge. The mother started waddling towards it as quick as she could, but couldn’t seem to move her flat feet fast enough. Just as the rodent with wings caught up with the egg, the rugby shaped foetus seemed to speed up. Without arms and hands aid her, the vermin was helpless. She tried to use her feet to change the direction of the accelerating oval, but to no avail. Despairingly she watched as her baby hurtled towards the kitchen surface below.

Of course, it probably didn’t happen like that at all. It is more likely that a gust of window blew through from the balcony, knocking the egg over the edge. But that wouldn’t really constitute a story

Life, India | 1 Comment »

Well, today I finally moved out of my guest house in Paharganj. This has been my home for about 2 months now. And believe me, 2 months in Paharganj is enough to send anyone insane.

On entering my new 2 bed apartment in Laxmi Nagar I was greeted by a pigeon sitting guardedly on a shelf in the kitchen. She was looking rather defensive and I soon realised why. The winged rodent had deposited a lovely white egg where you would normally store the cornflakes.

On asking around I found out that it normally takes about 21 days for a pigeon egg to hatch. This means I will be a surrogate father within the next 3 weeks. I must own up to feeling a little concerned. I’m not sure the place is big enough for all three of us.

Life, India | No Comments »