Waking to the realities of life

My body had kept me awake with sickness all night.  I was producing enough gas to be a serious economic threat to Kuwait.  I woke three times that morning.

At 4am, my alarm woke me for an early start, but I drifted back to sleep – I was too weak to start cycling.  Then, at 5am, the early morning Indian music (probably morning prayers) had begun and the LOUDspeaker was positioned just outside my window.  Now my bowels were too weak for me to start cycling!  I woke properly at 7am and just knew I wasn’t going anywhere today.

However, by hotel checkout time my mind had changed.  I couldn’t stay in this town.  Everywhere I looked was disease, filth and desperate people.  My feelings were not surprising; I was seeing the world through eyes that were not used to this new experience – eyes that were not part of a healthy body.  I had little idea where I would go; certainly less idea of whether I’d make it.  I aimed for Kushinagar, 55km away, and didn’t think about what would happen if I didn’t make it.  Once again the road was flat and good.  I saw my first snake.  Gandhi lookalikes were a dime a dozen.

Oases can be found in the oddest places

I expected little better than Gorakhpur.  How wrong I was.  Kushinagar, one of the four holy places of Buddhism (the Buddha died here) is a quiet town.  There is little traffic.  Gum trees stand tall, lining the main street which seems to house a number of incredibly friendly and calm people.  Considering its significance to one of the world’s great philosophies, it is surprisingly unaffected by tourism.

The friendly UPT (Uttar Pradesh Tourism) employee directed me to a Tibetan monastery; a place where I could find physical and mental shelter for a nominal donation.  Little could I have known the refuge this would be for me.  Immediately upon pulling into the grounds, I found peace.  Without fuss I had a room, and no crowds gathered to play with the trike.  The monks here were friendly, peaceful, genial and decent English speakers.  They offered me chai and meals and were very personable.  I will always be in debt to their kindness when I was frail.

After just one full day, I was gone.  Leaving Kushinagar was difficult, but the good road condition softened the blow somewhat.  I was happy to be cycling again, despite the fact that my tummy had reverted back to washing machine mode.  On this day, I left the state of Uttar Pradesh to enter Bihar; an experience which was a little more difficult than I expected.