Motorcycle Diaries: Part I

Life is so rewarding. Think about all those people who go to bed alone every night, with nothing more than a small pillow and a prayer by their side. And then think of me, waking up everyday with two other guys for company. Three, if it was a lucky day, like today. Two of who I didn't even know, and all of them topless. No man is an island...

It was okay really. I am used to finding unexpected occurences when I wake up. Like seeing the clock twenty minutes past the start of the quiz. Or 7 P.M when I had aimed for A.M. So us, the foursome, joined the twosome from the next room and got down to the process of tidying ourselves up for the countless girls we were not going to meet all day. But still, we hope. For isn't it hope that sustains so many things? George.W.Bush, Indian cricket team, Romance for IIT guys...

The mostly uneventful bus journey into the city was made slightly worth mentioning by the fact that we couldn't get off the bus. The assumption in these buses is that people only get on and never get off, till the last stop. And so they keep packing in people so much that they make a pack of sardines seem like a night inside Paris Hilton (yes, the hotel.) So, panic situation caused us to disembark a good kilometer before our actual stop. And it's not a very pleasant walk through a busy street in the morning sun. In my defence, I thought the square-shaped shop with 'BAR' written in big, bold lettering was our cue to get down. Unfortunately, here, there's one of them every hundred meters. No, fifty.

The morning workout succesfully completed, we arrived at the place where they gave out Shadowfax...er, rented bikes. If you're a guy, please continue reading this paragraph. Ladies, can skip this paragraph. A motor-bike is this machine that combines man's two greatest loves. Speed and Speed. Some of you might argue that it's acrually speed and gals, but that's why I asked you ladies to go to the next paragraph. It needs someone who has been on an auto-geared two-wheeler all his life to deeply appreciate the wonder of the gear ratio in fourth. And of the click-click of the transmission changing. And the total nonchalanece with which the engine handles the ever-mounting revs. And the sense of absolute power just sitting on one of these things.

So, we hired bikes and we were all happy. Score! With all the feel-good generated from this accomplishment, we kicked into action, literally. Riding back the same way we had come in the bu, we went in search of this 'global village, where people live in peace and harmony, connecting with their inner self, and are above all religion, race or country'. Well, the Taliban might still shoot you down if you went to Afghanistan, but otherwise, you were a global citizen. Overall, it was this serene kind of place. It was. The five-minute presentation extolled all the above-said virtues of the place, and then it was all about walking through the woods. For peace and inner harmony and all that. I'm sure there are exactly similar patches of woods in my own campus which I haven't discovered yet. If anything, the place did prove that trees cool their surroundings, especially if the 'trees' is one huge, big, mega-banyan as large as Paris Hilton's... suites (It is always the hotel!)

Having been saved partialy from the merciless sun in this 'cool' place (ONLY weather-wise), we proceeded to bike round and round the circuitous path laid out to the highway. And thence back to the city. The minor problems of petrol running out in one vehicle and engine dying out in another were... just that, minor problems. Nothing that a few drops of petrol and a bit of kicking and cursing couldn't solve.

The priority now was to confine ourselves to a nice air-conditioned restaurant for the better part of the afternoon. For all the riders' bravado and spirit of adventure and all, we still weren't willing to risk sun-burn, skin cancer and the like. The restaurant was found easily enough, and they had a surprisingly good Sphagetti on offer as well, which went straight on my order list, given my propensity for international cuisine. The hotel management was also helpful in our endeavour to kill time, prompting thoughts of whether they had taken our order for lunch or for dinner. A couple of unburnt rotis, two helping of sweet saunf each, and a desperate pooling of money for the bill preceded our next leg of the journey. To this place which got created first, and around which they decided to build the rest of the town.

The beach, with its rocky outcroppings rather than fine sand, is the hub of the town. The government building, police headquarters, and one other similarly importan administrative building are on this road. Any tsunami with an ounce of self-respect could put the entire government machinery out of action for weeks. But I guess they've allowed for such exigensies. Our main spot of interest was this Italin ice-cream shop, which served one hell of a Chocodip. They were consumed in anticipation of the long ride ahead and ten minutes later, there was a queue for the men's room. Again, in anticipation of the long ride ahead. But also as a consequence of the Chocodips. By this time, the two faulty vehicles which had given trouble on the way back from peace-land had also been exchanged for two other beauties - a white stallion with... right, must stop with the horse analogies. Anyway, that was the equation. 5 bikes, 9 guys and God-knows-how-long a ride to wherever-Silver-Beach-was...