India

My road : Delhi, Panipat, Kurukshetra, Ambala, Chandigarh, Kalka, Solan, Shimla, Narkanda, Rampur, Karchham, Sangla, Karchham, Recong Peo, Ribba, Puh, Yangthang, Sumdo, Tabo, Dhankar, Kaza, Kye, Lossar, Kunzum pass, Gramphoo, Tandi, Keylong, from 05-6 to 2005-06-12.

My return to Delhi allowed me to rediscover my friends Shubho and Manisha that a new time will keep me 2 weeks with them, allowing me to meet again people of their entourage, receiving me wonderful, not wanting nothing of me otherwise to review me. During this time,I was able to prepare the continuation of my journey with several things, of the news on the formalities, some purchases opportunities by the does to be in Delhi, but especially a discount in condition to the bicycle by this that I was able to obtain in Colombo.

I resumes then the road on May 6th to leave for me towards the north and a journey that I awaits since a long time and to cross Himalaya. I set off again by the NH1, an important axis, but that will allow me to rally quickly Shimla and to find me already to the heart of the mountains. This departure is done by a very hot weather, obliging me to drink enormously, doing then many stops in road edge to consume sugar cane juices. I rediscover also the road with his traffic and the incurred risks, the horns, the noise, the always pleasant meetings while done stop in the dhabas, this will be the case to the third day with a couple of Mumbai that will invite me to count for them, curious to discover me. As early as the first day, I am bring to cover with the 100 kilometers, not bothering me after a month of interruption, rediscovering the pleasure to roll, can be even again bigger with the revised bicycle, giving a bigger ease with the different new equipments of the old ones.
This is after 4 steps that I will touch Shimla, this very day starting up in a real ascension at the start of Kalka to pass from 630 meters to 2200 meters of altitude, progressing slowly to about 10 km/h. After 3h30 of bicycle and 5h30 of trip, I have 40 kms cover and rally Shimla appears for me again far, that is a step of 90 kms. But I would not reach to stop me, having to cover the distance and arrive on a city to impressive differences in height, where it is me sometimes impossible to return me with the bicycle. In front of to traverse it only while the sprout, I will finish by to hate it. On the other hand this is a pleasant city to do on foot, taking pleasure this time, with its stalls and its small present markets all over, its lanes and stairways allowing itself there to lose. But this is a dear halt in front of there to remain a current times.

From there I set off again with the deep craving to discover the journey that I traced, in leaving me by the Hindustan Tibet Highway, a road of 600 kms that leaves towards the north is and recovering the road of Leh. On the other hand the change will be me impossible, to less than to be constrained or to choose to do half turn. This is a not easy trip that will do me to roll to altitudes from 2500 to 3000 meters, to pass to moments beyond, and cross my first collar, the Kunzum at 4551 meters. In road, I meet again on a superb, mountainous journey, with towns hang on the slopes, terrace cultures, different people being really welcoming and more respectful. At the culinary level, this is another cooks that served me, remaining basal but all to my taste, with paranthas (filled tarts of potatoes) and curd (yogurt) to the breakfast, and to the other meals of the rice, red beans, dal (lenses), subge (mixes green vegetables), and chapatis (local bread). While I advance, the happiness and the pleasure go growing despite difficulties.
The following step Shimla takes me towards Narkanda, continuing climb, to arrive at 2700 meters. I roll then to the breadth of forests of firs, succeeding in general idea my first summits, finding the evenings come freshness, this to what I was not accustomed. This halt will be also my first welcome with a pharmacist that will leave to me to pass the night in a refuge in renovation. The next day morning while setting off again, I can contemplate the Himalayan chain far off under a real blue sky. But I know a crash with a bus that while brushing me is about to reverse me, tearing a bag. This is again the anger towards these drivers that can be dangerous, going at does all count of his fault and continuing his road. A descent of 30 kms does me to rejoin the valley and the Sutlej, a river that will remain in proximity of my journey. Arrived to Rampur, I have descended to 900 meters. In road the localities are small and not very numerous, the traffic stretches to disappear, finding on the way shepherds or people moving themselves with buffalo and done stop evenings in road edge climb an improvised camp.
From this village, the road sets off again to the ascension for in the following days to pass the 3000 meters. The journey becomes really picturesque, remarkable, taking outlines and detours, with a succession of pictures appearing and disappearing, rolling sometimes to the shadow of a rocky partition, the precipice facing for him, or then to the sun bringing some well noticeable degrees. The halt that I had foreseen will not be possible, stopping me then in the town preceding, looking there to remain for the night. I take information to put my stretched one, then one comes to propose me a too dear lodging for me. One finishes by to drive me to a person that wishes to meet me, it is a matter of an engineer in electricity that receives me in company of his assistant one. I pass a moment to discuss with these persons, doing me to serve tea. Mister R.K. SOOD goes to several times to phone for me, coming to propose me a place for the night, a luck for me for outsides it rains strong. I have only to subject me to check my passport with the police. To dinner, one will come even to look for me for me there to drive.

From Bhabanagar, I done road towards Sangla, a mountain town with a valley carrying the same name. This is often that I puts the foot to earth, stop by this that my eye can obtain, continuing to follow the Sutlej, coming to pass of a side to the other in taking some bridges to the wood floor, not always reassuring, crossing a landscape totally mineral. The climbed towards Sangla goes to prove to be terrible, long of 18 kms. I there can go only while pushing the bicycle, stopping uniformly to resume blows, meeting again me some lacks food and paining enormously. To 6 kms of the end, I succeed in stop a jeep for all placement on board and finish totally exhausted. To the town, I go that I need, to return me in a restaurant to recover. I rediscover a Dutch one, Chris that travels by 4x4, met on the way the moment I did to embark myself. Sangla is a place with a lot of charm, calm, resting, in a magnificent framework with this time the snowy summits to proximity. This is a place propice for walking, that I will divide with Chris leaving to discover the town neighbor of Kamru, meeting its inhabitants and discovering the remarkable characteristic of the houses with the steep roofs do with flagstones of rocks. A turned other will drive us above Sangla, going to the research of an altitude lake, coming close to itself the summits, and arriving by a cold temperature on a mountain pasture, taking a real pleasure, divided together. To sangla, I do also a culinary discovered other with the Tibetan bread, something that does his weight, copious, to the aspect of a cake, savored fresh and hot. I set off again Sangla with rain and the dinginess, having to resume a held one at length left out. The road is located even cut to 2 places by water, in front of despite all crossing. A damage speed on the bicycle, must me to look at before leaving climb towards Recong Peo. I go to be saved by the stop of a truck of the army climbing me. Returned the top, realizing me the loss of a piece of a bag, the encounter of a motorcyclist will allow me to take back down doing a turned one on a 350 Enfield. To Recong Peo, I am held to obtain a permit to follow my road, provident equally of the provisions. Leaving for Kalpa, the following town, I stretched a summary of the Kinner Kailash, the highest summit of the region with 6050 meters, but that is perturbed by the clouds. During these 2 days, I find pleasure in a dhaba, while there going as early as in the morning for the breakfast and finish my day evenings for the dinner, tasting different things, simple but tasty.

Taken back down of Recong Peo, my journey is stopped by the concerns of the region and the fallen rocks coming to cut the road. The passage became dangerous and impossible. It is necessary then to wait, done knowledge with people of the army and 2 truck drivers. These 2 likable guys, the come moment propose me to be going to eat with them, coming even to offer me the meal. Of return on the places, the lull is present, I take advantage to cross, past luggage and bicycle to the hand with the support and the assistance of a group of present guys for clearing. This time I am in road towards the Spiti, a remote and difficult to reach region. I progress slowly, being often in look of this that surrounds me, taking a huge pleasure. A short step is done me done halt in the town of Skibba. It is too late to follow, and questions to put my stretched one. Finally one is done me bring my luggage in a house behind of a grocery store, the owner announcing me that I am his guest.
This is facilitated at the start by the encounter of H.S. NEGI, a banker with that I will pass a moment to discuss. Charan with that I lodge, lives with his young brother and an uncle. After him to have announced that I'm French eating fish often, he was anxious to prepare me tuna that he had some can in his shop. This is a superb evening that I pass with these people, coming at the night to sleep between Charan and his uncle, a pure Kinnauri preserving the local hat for the night. At the morning, they are all remarkable with me too, getting ready me paranthas, the melted butter over flowing me between the fingers. There again, hospitality is fabulous, me just request of not to forget them.

I continue towards Puh and Sumdo. To Jangi, there is the check of my permit, while entering into the limit zone. I continue to roll in a spectacular setting, the mountains surrounding me, the always present torrent, fabulous colors, remaining continually filled with wonder, often stopped by the effects that the look can feel, to give times and admiration to every thing, by the fact that in rolling I must have the eyes on the road, watching to the precipices, to the obstacles, to the rocky undone partitions, putting fear to all the bends and pin in which these it is necessary to pass with prudence. Past Spello, a boy descending of a vehicle stops me in me loud to arrive with my bicycle, curious to meet me. It is a matter of a young monk, Ram Kedar, staying to the monastery of Tabo and that returns in his town to 11 kms from the main road. He comes to propose me to accompany him, being said me that for me this will be something special. The temptation and the craving getting the upper hand, I choose to follow him. But that goes coming itself a veritable trek to which one or him or me one expected. One uniformly must resume blows, loosening laugh itself and smile, persisting to do to climb the bycicle, in front of to rid luggage along the way with villagers to get the bicycle lighter. This after a long one overlapped and several hours of walk that one succeeds in the near town of the summits, immediately not regretting all these efforts. We welcomed with his mother, discovering then the dwelling and the true life of the Kinnauris. The houses are low, to the flat roofs, to the dark interior, with a principal piece held hot by a small hearth to the ground that serves also to the cooking. Some underground left, this is the place for the animals and the feed. This is an extraordinary new moment in company of these people passing the evening to discuss together, awaiting the typically local, stuffed meal more than I can eat. For the night I divide the room with Ram Kedar. At the morning, the freshness is present with an awakening before 6 o'clock. I returns immediately outsides to take advantage of the panorama, the camera at the hand to mark to remember it. The town already is in activity for a party that gets ready, the women are in realization of pouris. We strat our descent together until I recover my luggage, we arrive to the same moment on the highway, a big good word to be sometimes a way. I continue towards Puh while hoping done stop to Khab. But this town will find itself outside of my road, not knowing while to do, the fatigue presents, being located me alone in these throats. The first car arriving, I succeed in stop it, looking for first information with a man that will propose me to take me. The bicycle on the roof of the car and the luggage to the interior, we climb the mountain towards Yangthang, near of the 4000 meters of altitude, entering into the valley of the Spiti. This is therefore a new assistance that brought me, and efforts of savings. It remains me while some laces to pass to arrive on the town without even the knowledge. I meet again in a fantastic setting, of high mountains in front of me, the snow to their summit, and a steep-sided valley to their foot where flows the Spiti. The spectacle is so fascinating day, as of night, with the full present moon. This stop will allow me climb to Nako, bicycle without luggages.

The following step is Tabo, but this is a journey beginning laborious, with the road broken, cluttered with fallen rocks, pushing the bicycle in a heaps of rocks, in front of done passage to certain moments by myself, but receiving the assistance of constrained tourists to cross on foot to find a second transportation on the other side. On this step, I past Sumdo, leaving the controlled zone, with the Tibet in my back. Tabo does me to arrive in a wide valley, and rediscover to the monastery Chris, a traveler to meet beforehand. Here, we begin taking knowledge for the collar of the Kunzum, the things not good pretences for his passage in the next days. We wait during this time with others travellers, French, Swiss, Scottish, Danish, English.
From Tabo, I take a small step to Dhankar to discover his monastery hang to a boulder, where few people climb and remain, so well that I pass a single evening with the monks. I am done also welcome in a family, dividing thus the life of the people from here. Dhankar is situated in a framework a new remarkable time. Of there, the road drives me towards Kaza, then another monastery, the one of Kye. After the monks, this is with nuns that I dinner, alone traveler that I am. This time I find myself near of the collar of the Kunzum, since that I have only Lossar in front of me for last step. Despite that I continue my advance, knowing that I am some advances, and that passed this point, I do not know this that can await me. This is a long road not finding nothing or nobody otherwise some small batches of houses surround by small cultivated bits. The remainder is only rocks and deserted zones, continuing to climb back up the Spiti. I can cross big mountain pastures, with some animals grazing them, and a wind opposing me. The arrival to Lossar is painful, but I do not loosen. Here, any tourist, only the local people that do not announce me any good things for the continuation, otherwise before 10, 15, 20 days. This is at my second day here, that a possibility will present itself with the arrival of another cyclist, Elia from Italy. We then will suit to do this crossing together, that sometimes we announced possible, and to other unthinkable and dangerous moments. A solution is to leave with carriers for past bicycles and luggage. A departure therefore foresaw with 3 persons, and a vehicle to drive us at the top of the collar, last not at all accessible. But that appears me fuzzy and uncertain, nevertheless one says us "no problems".
At the morning to leave, nothing is some places and the broken one down vehicle. It is necessary the passage of a tractor hauls to do to embark itself, leaving all the both, without no assistance, not knowing which place will rally us tonight. This is a horrendous trip, doing to shake itself to excessiveness, being said me, "more never that". Of more this is to do to leave itself at the start of the climbed. This is 9 kms that separate us with the collar, rolling more on a way than on a road, with rocks and mud, difficulties appearing to push the bicycle, all becoming quickly white, having more than snows around us, returning plenty of water in the soaked and frozen feet, being alone to climb. Finally, this is at 13 o'clock local and by 9 degrees that one succeeds in the summit. This is a new satisfaction and pride to arrive to a similar place. One can then start the descent towards Batal, not easier than to the climbed with water flowing of everywhere, having to look for the better passage, and avoid the fall. One had announced us the accessibility to this town, one nevertheless will find obstacle with a bulldozer done passage. At the bottom, that does not seem better, just as the meteorology with the dinginess we falling over as well as snow wisps. Not knowing the necessary time to clearing, one envisions to plant the stretched for the night. But 2 guys will provide assistance us, one from Batal and the second Nepalese, we allowing rallying this point for the night. This is a precious assistance, taking our bicycles in hand to certain moments, descend earthy slopes. We finish exhausted, take by the cold one, awaiting a meal to take refuge itself next in the down.
Tanzin, the guy of Batal counsels us to follow with carriers if one wants to succeed in cross the 45 kms that again are not opened to the circulation. But only Raju, the Nepalese will continue with us, in exchange for a food, of a bed and of pocket money. We leave therefore for 3 days of an unbelievable rudesse and present risks, but we can only keep going. We will rally the towns after one another, covering with daily distances of 16 to 17 kms, we doing nevertheless to leave in the morning at 9 o'clock for some to finish evenings at 16 o'clock. Every day, this is fully sufficient, we coming of the physical pains, and the exhaustion accumulating itself a more each little day, for during all this time one will not be able to go otherwise than while pushing the bicycle. To many times the whole journey finds blocked itself by snow flows, by glaciers having formed themselves until to fall in the river Chandra, by fallen rocks, by the disappeared road under all that, or again having collapsed. Well often, it is impossible to cross by bicycle, in front of then to pass the luggage after one another, then the bicycle, being able to repeat itself every 100 meters at some times. Sometimes, the snow flows allow us to cross while pushing the vehicle, asking superhuman efforts and bringing the exhaustion. The most unbelievable one, but so dangerous will be at the second day in front of to climb the mountain to cross a glacier some high left, then to take back down on the other side, carrying all on the backs. The fall to this point as to others would have been fatal for each of us. I look for therefore to adopt the biggest prudence. But all that happens in an environment and among a totally extraordinary nature, where the fascination, admiration and the contemplation are at their maximum, and o how much happy to cross this region, feeling privileged despite the whole hardness that represents. The happiness is immense to reach here, especially that beforehand one wanted that I half fact turn. After the hot one day, the sun lying, it is necessary to face the cold one night, finding a morning of the frost on the bicycle, sleep under stretched, and to content itself with a basic food. In road, a stray pilgrims goes accompanied us, to the research of a food, a deaf and mute person, having that a cover for baggage.

After 5 weeks of trip since Delhi, I curl the crossing of the Kinnaur and Spiti that appears for the most memorable so far, but also the most difficult one. The continuation, this is to touch Leh, while crossing if possible the valley of the Zanskar, another dreams in me.