07-02-04

THREE MEN ... part 3

Tenkasi Tango
 
near the falls, in Aysha's halls
we park our wheels and go find meals
near the temple
so simple

 
 

In the morning we head for the nearby market place where we breakfast on masala dosa and idli - TV in the back room tuned to wrestling - before hiking to the falls. Lay back and groove for a couple of hours on the boulders in the refreshing mountain stream, 

We bring my Enfield to the local mechanic for a quick fix while we find lunch: meals – as they call the thali here - eaten with the hands off banana leaves, all you can eat, can you believe for 15 roepies?

When we pick up the Bullet after lunch, four pair of hands are all over it: it looks and runs like new - at least until we get to the corner, where it stalls again. Back at the shop, they give the battery a quick charge and this time we’re off for good.

Well, at least we get out of town, where I stop for a Kodak Moment. When we start up the rear tyre is flat. Bullocks! Fortunately, we only have to walk the bike 300m back to the nearest tyre shop, where they tell us we have ‘triple puncture wounds’ and need a new inner tube. All right, all right, I think, just get the bike back on the road so we can make Varkala before dark. It is near 3pm by now, and dark by 6.30. Once the tyre is fixed, the shop boss takes it for a spin and finds an opportunity for fine tuning the suspension and showing of his skills. 45 minutes later then, on the road again…

’Next stop Varkala!’ yells Humberto. What a grand ride it is, with just one stop to pee and drink roadside chai. At our final turnoff for Varkala, with less than an hour to go under a reddening sky, I stop to check on fuel. We’re good. I roll out of the gas station, look the wrong way, see a clear road and pull the throttle when Humberto screeeeams in my ear…a big yellow truck coming from the right panic breaks with screeching tires, momentary chaos and confusion and, by the mercy of Ganesh, we pull out, by a hair, unscathed, except when I look at my right foot there is blood gushing from my big toe, that scraped the road in the maneuver. We pull over to the side of the road to apply first aid – we are already well equipped after yesterday’s accident – and attract quite a crowd in the process. Moments later we are happy to get out of there and into the dust of the dusky road.

In a zombie like trance, eyes and faces black, and with greasy pants we roll onto Varkala helipad with just minutes to go till sunset.

Three men and a babe on a treacherous road for two days and one night, come across  cows and dogs, monkeys and chickens, buses, trucks, incidents and accidents … but no hankie panky, ay Grahame




10:58 Gepost door pieter | Permalink | Commentaren (0) |  Facebook |

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