Bangladesh - Land of the Bangla-speaking People

In 1947, when British colonial India was partitioned into the Islamic Republic of Pakistan and the Republic of India, Pakistan consisted of West Pakistan, which is Pakistan as we know it today, and a separate piece of land thousands of km away called East Pakistan that became present day Bangladesh.

Bangladesh literally means: "land of the Bangla-speaking people" which is a reminder of one of the main factors (recognition of Bangla (Bengali) as an official state language) that led to the build-up of resistance to being joined as one country with West Pakistan. This resistance culminated in a bloody war that eventually led to an independent People's Republic of Bangladesh in 1971.

typical Bangladesh village scene

The Bangladeshis are very proud of their culture, language and history. There is even a Mother Language Day that has been observed since 1952, and is still observed today, to commemorate the struggle to establish Bangla as the national language. When speaking to people we've met here, we've found that, although there is an acknowledgment that they are still a very poor country, there is much pride in Bangladesh having come a long way since gaining independence. The population explosion since the 1970's is attributed to significant improvements in child mortality rates and improved quality of life. Women are still more likely than men to be illiterate and girls now have free schooling all way through senior school while boys are only subsidised for their junior school years. We have also been told several times by very proud Bangladeshis (mostly men as we have rarely encountered women who speak any English) that their current Prime Minister is their second female Prime Minister since independence and that the Home Minister and Foreign Minister are also both female too, a fact that somehow seems incongruous with the absence of women in public areas and the strict purdah dress observed by the few that you do see around (except in Dhaka).

"Okay, listen now, if you kids don't get this one right - there'll be trouble!"

More than any of the sites we've seen (and we've seen many wonderful ones), the greatest asset this country has to share with tourists is the hospitality of its people. It is not uncommon to be invited home for a meal by someone you've met randomly on the street (although the price is often being paraded around like a celebrity to meet the entire village). There are only two guide books available for Bangladesh, The Lonely Planet and the Bradt Guide, and they both list the Bangla people on the list of the country's Top Ten attractions and we concur wholeheartedly.

Tea with Rupa and Mom at their home in Srimangal

That said, there have been plenty of great sites to explore. One of our first was in Putia, near Rajshahi, that boasts some of the country's oldest Hindu temples still standing after the 1970's war.

1823 Shiva temple in Puthia

From Rajshahi we took our first Bangladeshi train journey to Khulna near the Sundarbans. Although the rail network is not huge, the trains that do operate are efficient and first class travel is comfortable with private compartments and waiters that serve tea in real china cups.

While Bangladesh is poor in some ways, it is incredible to see that unemployment is unheard of (less than 3%) and EVERYONE is doing some sort of mini-business/service. The villages are a hive of activity and you can get anything made or fixed very cheaply and quickly. The village economies are light years ahead of ours at home: in SA you can't find a tractor for love of money, while in Bangladesh most farmers share these mini-tractors that double up as water pumps, threshers and electricity generators. Villages can have a borehole sunk for less than $100 (R700) while in SA you can pay 100 times that! One downside of this full employemnt is that invariably hotels employ double the number of people they need and then you have service staff bursting into your room every hour to check if you "need anything?" or if "I can help you". We quickly learnt to lock the doors, but then they just knock loudly, you get out of bed, and they ask "need anything?" Evil glares do not dissuade them!

In Khulna our primary mission was to book a boat trip around the Sundarbans, the large delta of rivers and mighty mangrove swamps in southern Bangladesh where the water from the Himalayas flows into the sea. There aren't many boats that tour the Sundarbans and the few that do were all booked for the dates we wanted. The only thing we could do was book a private boat tour, just for the two of us. Although a little more expensive, it turned out to be a pretty good option as we had the guide all to ourselves to answer our million questions, lots of flexibility as to where we went and no other noisy guests to scare off the animals. The boat was small but very comfortable and our crew cooked up the most delicious meals while we lazed about on deck and kept our eyes pealed for Bengal Tigers. We didn't see any tigers although the fact that a person is eaten by a tiger in this area every 3 days kept us alert all through our 3 day tour. We had two security guards with very big shot guns follow us everywhere we went.

Chilling on out on our boat in the Sundarbans

The view from our boat while cruising the mangrove swamps of the Sundarbans

Let's go get those tigers! - our very brave security guards in the Sundarbans

We took some lovely, messy walks - security guards in tow - through thick, gooey, glistening, chocolate pudding mud in the mangrove forests that sucked in our every footfall. The mangrove forests were teeming with life: loads of birds, crabs, lizards and 5 different species of snakes that Dave kept trying to pick up in between (unsuccessfully) trying to catch mud skippers. We saw a green vine snake hanging from a tree while it was also trying to catch mud skippers, an unidentifiable snake basking in the sun, and a Dog Headed Water snake lying in the mud, and best of all, a Monocled Cobra swimming across the river in a hell of a hurry to get to the other side. We cooled off with a swim in the sea of the Bay of Bengal although it is not advisable to attempt a bikini-clad dip being, as we are, in a conservative Muslim country. Having little experience with which clothes are best for a fully-clothed swim, Rejane at first made the unfortunate choice of a t-shirt that became very clingy and revealing once wet and then had to quickly scramble to put on something a little more modesty-preserving.

Getting nice and messy catching crabs in the mud

Stomping around in the muddy mangrove forests

No bikinis allowed in the Bay of Bengal! (Our hosts couldn't bare to look!)

From Khulna we took the very luxurious early 1900's "Rocket", a paddle steamer that cruises slowly down the river and harks back to the days of the British Raj. Meals are served at a long, wooden, 30-seater dinner table with white table-cloths and uniformed waiters who serve your afternoon tea in delicate china tea sets (they really know how to serve tea in this country, I say, Old Chap, What?)

Afternoon tea and cookies while floating down the river on the old Rocket steamer

Just couldn't resist doing the Leonardo and Kate pose while on the steamer...

View from the Rocket...villages that dot the river banks

We reluctantly disembarked from the luxury of the Rocket in Barisal where we explored the busy markets and picturesque villages. One fun part of Bangladesh is the vehicles: the most common is the bicycle powered, 3 wheel rickshaw which are everywhere and are used by everyone to go even short distances. In Dhaka alone there are supposedly 600,000 rickshaws! Then you get the Ban which is the bakkie/pickup version of the bicycle rickshaw which has a flat bed and can load unbelievable quantities of goods piled meters into the air. Then there is the auto rickshaw (aka baby taxi or CNG) which is a motorbike version of the rickshaw which normally runs on compressed gas (CNG = Compressed Natural Gas). You also now get an electric rickshaw (see photo below) which has a battery and is charged up at night, and then can cover 120km the next day, almost silently as it has no engine. Lastly, of course, there are cars. In Bangladesh, 90% of cars are expensive Japanese models which is unusual when one considers that in India 90% of cars are cheap Indian brands (Tata, Maruti Suzuki and Mahindra). The reason for this we're told is that Bangladesh has no middle class: just a very rich class and a poor class while India has a huge middle class...

Electric baby taxi - Bangladesh leads the way in green transport!

All aboard the school bus! (another type of bicycle rickshaw)

Around Barisal - busy markets

"Let's show these locals what an African man can do... ok I'm tired now"

"Haa, but can you carry bricks on your head, while walking a plank and looking cool at the same time?"

After Barisal we boarded another less luxurious cockroach boat further down the river to explore the little islands that dot the Bay of Bengal. These islands don't appear in any guide books or even on the internet so as expected this was quite an adventure. Our first stop was Hatia Island where we took on the 4 hour mission to get to its very southern most tip and cross over to the even smaller island of Nidjim Dwip. After a noisy and bumpy 2 hour auto-rickshaw ride, an hour wait for the ferry, another hour on an even bumpier bicycle rickshaw and yet another hour of walking - with our backpacks - in the sweltering heat, we finally made it to the one "hotel" on Nijum Dwip Island.

On the mission to Nidjim Dwip: "Okay, that's it - I've had it with this heat, the boats, the crowds..."

The next morning, at breakfast, we were offered a live crab by the restaurant owner. With much sign language we managed to negotiate for a crab curry to be cooked for our lunch which we ate very messily and with relish while trying to ignore the open-mouthed stares of about 30 local guys. In rural Bangladesh we've been stared at with undisguised fascination a whole lot more than we've stared at the local people and surroundings. The two most common reactions are the "stop dead in your tracks call your friends and stare" and the "stop dead in your tracks, jaw falls open and stare" - extra clever people follow these moves up with a "how are you my friend!" which means you can get invited to their house if you smile back...

On a trip where we have been more than just impressed with the culinary delights, Bangladesh wins first prize in the great food category. The Achilles heel in this subcontinent's repertoire, however, is definitely breakfast. A fried egg with a roti or chapati is the closest you can to a vaguely recognisable breakfast while cornflakes, only very very occasionally available, are a mystery to chefs (we were once served cornflakes that had been boiled up like jungle oats!). We have at times given up and gone local by ordering mutton and vegetable curries with rotis for our breakfast. Another potential minefield is ordering drinks - if you're not fast enough to prevent it, you are likely to get a dollop of salt in your fruit juice or yogurt drink - Dave has even been asked if he preferred a sweet or salty chocolate milkshake!

And the prize for the best meal eaten in Bangladesh goes to...Freshly cooked crab curry.

After a couple of days of lazing around Nijum Dwip we missioned back to Hatia to catch the steamer to the next Bay of Bengal island, Sandwip. The trip back to Hatia was crowded with people, bicycles and even a cow that proceeded to vacate its bowels in the tiny boat but Rejane was well protected from getting messy on the women's side of the boat where she was looked after like a special guest.

On the boat from Nijum Dwip back to Hatia with the cow with the loose bowels

On arrival at Sandwip Island we were told that there weren't any hotels at all and were taken to the government offices by a rickshaw driver who had no idea what on earth to do with two foreign tourists. The perplexed government officials took a few minutes to inquire as to why the hell we'd want to see Sandwip Island and, while failing to understand our explanation that it was all very interesting to us, kindly invited us to stay at the government guest house for a nominal fee, the equivalent of about R4 ($0.50). We were very comfortable at the guest house and the next morning had the pleasure of meeting the Island's magistrate who allowed us to sit in on his very speedy court proceedings (20 cases in 45 minutes!) after which we were invited to a local wedding lunch. While at lunch we mentioned that the steamer to Chittagong, our next stop, would be leaving soon to which the magistrate said, "Don't worry, relax, I am also taking the steamer to Chittagong today and they can't leave without me..."

The very photogenic villages on Sandwip Island. Every house has a pond like this used for bathing/washing (behind the orange curtain)

At the wedding lunch with the magistrate

Our next stop was the Chittagong Hill Tracts, the one area of Bangladesh that's not as flat as a chapati. The history of this "tribal" area is quite complicated and the politics is still somewhat unstable. During the war in 1970/1, the governor of the area supported West Pakistan and fled to Pakistan after independence. The indigenous people of the area are ethnically closer to Burmese people than to the ethnically Indian Bangladeshi majority. The source of the current political tension seems to stem from the influx and growth of the ethnically Indian Bangla population into the area and the displacement of the indigenous tribes by large dams built recently.

In Rangamati, the first of the Chittagong villages we visited, our boatman wouldn't take us to any of the indigenous Chakma villages as communities here have kept themselves pretty much separate from one another. It was also a little difficult to get much enjoyment from the main tourist attraction, the beautiful lake, which was created when the dam was built causing the loss of farming land and of many indigenous village communities and led to many being displaced.

On the lake in Rangamati

After Rangamati we headed to another Chittagong Hill Tract village, Bandarban. Here the communities, while preserving their own ways of life, do not seem to have the issues that Rangamati suffers from as there was no displacement from dam building. We stayed at the Hillside Resort which has lovely traditionally built bamboo cottages. We spent a few lazy days exploring the markets and the beautiful indigenous Marma villages set in the thick forests. We also indulged a few times in the number one local desert dodi/dui which is a delicious cross between creme caramel and yoghurt and can be found everywhere at giveaway prices - yummy!! Bangladesh generally has good food - the only challenge is ordering it as the Bangladeshi's don't believe in menus... you just sit down and they say "what do you want" (in Bangla), and you say "what do you have" and they look at you confused, and then we say, with our hands, "bring everything" and then all sorts of plates arrive of mostly meats and a few veg dishes and we pig out and send back what we can't eat, and after a main course extravaganza, dessert (dui!!!), cold drinks and tea it comes to around R25 ($4) for both of us! Rejane hasn't cooked in 6 months... I wonder why?!

Meeting a Marma tribal person (left) and a Bangla guy (right) in the Bandarban forests

Cruising the river on a local boat in Bandarban

Shopping for a nice fat cow for Eid ul Adha

VIDEO: A typical day in the market in Bandarban

"Tribal" women smoking cigars while bargaining at the Eid market in Bandarban

Outside our traditional bamboo hut in Bandarban

View from our hotel in Bandarban

From Bandarban, it was straight north to Sylet, the tea-growing region of Bangladesh. We didn't spend anytime in the capital city of the Sylet region but headed directly to Srimangal, a lovely village where lots of tea is grown. There we met Roni, a lovely guide, who took us around to tea estates, introduced us to Srimangal's many-layered tea and showed us around his village (if you're planning to spend any time in Srimangal, we'd highly recommend you contact Roni on: 01719239367)

The many-layered tea made in Srimangal is a well guarded secret and the layers really are completely distinct in colour and taste (see pic below).

With Roni, our guide, at a Srimangal tea estate

Enjoying 5 and 10 layer tea

After Srimangal we had no choice but to head to Dhaka to apply for our new India visas - it was the reason we came to Bangladesh, after all. We were a little apprehensive as we'd been told several times that Dhaka was noisy, polluted and traffic-jammed. Well that it is, but the craziness grows on you and Old Dhaka is a labyrinth of interesting market streets that offer a complete assault on all your senses, a real must-do experience.

The crazy streets of old Dhaka

At a perfumery in Old Dhaka

Typical Bangladesh/Indian wiring... an art not a science.

After a week waiting for the India embassy to issue our Indian visas so that we can continue our bike journey there - they turned our visa application down! Bastards! They rudely said we must go and get new visas in South Africa - and then chased us out of the embassy and wouldn't allow us to enquire why our visa was rejected.

So that curveball means we're on a flight tomorrow to Nepal to try and get an Indian visa there - apparently that Indian embassy is more helpful. And then we'll be back on our way to Darjeeling to fetch our bike and our luggage and to carry on our Indian travels... unless of course we are seduced by some Nepalese adventures...

The 57 hour Express to Calcutta

From Manali we took two days to get to Kalka, from where we were to catch the train to Kolkata (Calcutta). Rejane had done some very diligent research and managed to figure out the fairly complicated but surprisingly efficient Indian Rail booking system. Being in the middle of school holidays, the time of Diwali and a very big festival dedicated to the Goddess Durga, all we could get were waitlisted tickets for our Kalka to Kolkata train ride. We’d been assured that since we were high up on the waiting list, we’d have no problem getting seated on the day of travel.

We arrived at Kalka train station around 5pm and spent a hot, sweaty hour getting the bike wrapped and packed for the train trip. Then we settled in for the 3 hour wait until the waitlist charts were prepared and we’d know whether or not we had seats on the train. At around 9.30pm, when the waitlist sheets were released, we were told we had not been granted seats – it was the middle of holiday season afterall. We were then told to wait until 11pm to speak to the train station manager who might be able to organise something. At 11pm, the train station manager was nowhere to be found. Now what? The bike was already booked, packed and paid for to go onto Kolkata.

That was when the chaos kicked in: our enquiries as to whether or not there was any way at all that we could get onto the train led to us being surrounded by several people, including the packing department guys, some police/military officers, porters and a couple of other random people all with very little English and each confidently claiming that he’d organised everything for us and knew what would happen next... each had a different story...:
1. we would be getting 2nd class tickets straight to Kolkata.
2. we would get 3rd class tickets to Delhi (about one third of the way to Kolkata) and would be given new tickets there to go immediately onto Kolkata.
3. we would get some ticket to Delhi and would have to wait there for a few days to get a new ticket to Kolkata.
4. we had to buy new unreserved class tickets for Kolkata (this option meant being squashed with an uncountable number of people on hard wooden seats for the 33 hour ride).

Better not misplace those elephants...R1000 maximum liabilty claim

By 11.45pm we were sitting (listening at various times to whichever one of our ‘organisers’ was not running around at that point organising our tickets and/or tea) on the train station platform, hot, exhausted, hungry, not knowing whether or not we’d get on this train or not or have to find a hotel room at midnight in a small town we’d never been to before. About 5 minutes later and with 5 minutes to spare before the train was to leave and still with absolutely no idea as to what our eventual fate was to be, Dave was ushered to a desk on the platform, ordered to buy new unreserved class tickets (the class with the wooden benches that always has space for just one more) and we were ushered into comfortable 2nd class seats ...??? ...but we were not complaining... – this only took us to Delhi though. To have been in various states of limbo and confusion, surrounded by chaos for 7 hours and then for everything to turn out OK in the last 5 minutes is, well... what can I say... just a very special, very Indian experience...

Our bike-packing wallahs

We arrived in Delhi at 6am in the morning tired, lugging our backpacks, helmets and all the heavy bike stuff. No tickets to Kolkata were available for that day but we managed to get tickets to leave for Kolkata the following morning so we were forced to enjoy the Delhi chaos for a night. We arrived in Kolkata two days later – having taken 57 hours to complete what was meant to be a 33 hour express train journey.

The Victoria Memorial and Museum - Kolkata

As big Indian cities go, Kolkata is one of the nicest. It’s still an Indian city though, so after enjoying some especially lovely high teas and getting our Bangladeshi visas, we hightailed it out of there and headed north for Darjeeling.

Stopping for tea under a very big, old tree on the way to Darjeeling

The bike ride to Darjeeling was beautiful. The lush, tropical landscape is a dead ringer for Port St, Johns on the Transkei Wild Coast. Darjeeling itself is prime tea growing area surrounded by the snow-capped Himalayas, with views of Kanchendzonga, which at 8600m is the world’s 3rd highest mountain. We got a great hotel room with panoramic views of the surrounding landscape and mountain tops and all we had to do for spectacular sunrises was to stretch over, pull open our curtains and wha-la!

Beautiful views from the road of rice-paddies and farmers at work

A view from our hotel room in Darjeeling - Kanchendzonga in the distance

From Darjeeling we were on our bike again and up to the magical province of Sikkim. This used to be a kingdom under India’s protection, but a referendum in the 70’s resulted in the abandonment of the monarchy and Sikkim’s absorption into India. Sikkim is thought by many to be the true location of the fabled Shangri La, which is thought to be a derivative of Sikkim’s “Wild Alder Pass” or Sangali La. True or not, this is definitely one of the most beautiful regions we’ve ever seen (ja, we know we’ve said that before but this country just keeps on surprising).

Sikkim is mountainous, but most of it is below 3000m above sea level and so it is covered with lush, pristine, indigenous forests dripping with vines, streams and rivers – some a startling bright blue, as well as all sorts of colourful flowers, butterflies and birds (including the Red Jungle Fowl – the original chicken). Towering in the west is the snow-capped Kanchendzonga.

We headed first to the capital Gangtok which, despite being a bustling city, is still enclosed by forest – most cities are quickly deforested but somehow Gangtok’s forest has remained intact. There we spent a night before heading to nearby Rumtek the home of one of Sikkim’s most important monasteries. We stayed 3 nights at a beautiful lodge in a wood-panelled room with a balcony overlooking the forested valley.

The lodge offered good food comprising of Tibetan/Ladakhi vegetarian meals including the ever-popular momo’s which are steamed dumplings filled with minced veggies and a lovely balcony with spectacular views from which to enjoy our meals. After a few days of veggie food, we located a non-vegetarian restaurant in the village and feasted on chicken and fish. The funny thing with many parts of both Buddhist and Hindu India is that eating meat is frowned upon and thus often only available at equally frowned upon alcohol bars. These bars generally consist of small curtained cubicles where you can secretly drink your beer and/or eat your chicken safe from the disapproving stares of the general public...

The working Buddhist monastery in Rumtek

In Rumtek we decided to explore the forest and ended up semi-lost for a few hours clambering through the thick vegetation beneath towering trees, wondering about the prevalence of tigers and king cobras in the area, until we emerged in tiny village where we walked back to Rumtek along the road. We also visited the Rumtek monastery which was colourful and filled with the usual Buddhist imagery of crazy fire-breathing monster-things and a huge statue of Buddha - for a religion without a god, Buddhism certainly incorporates a lot of other magical beings... The monastery did have a lot of positive environmental messages and was doing some good recycling work.

Getting lost in Sikkim's lush forests

Breakfast and spectacular forest views - on the balcony of our hotel room in Rumtek

From Ravang La we travelled on to the town of Pelling which faces the mighty Kanchendzonga mountain. Here again we were blown away by the beautiful hotel room - complete with ensuite bathroom, balcony looking straight at the peaks and satellite TV - for just R80 a night… We did a couple of day trips from Pelling doing some of the best biking so far on empty roads through dense forest with the odd waterfall on to the road to keep you cool. First we visited Khecheopalri Lake, a beautiful peaceful lake filled with fish and surrounded by forest littered with prayer flags. Prayer flags are basically flags with prayers or mantras written on them that are thought to spread good vibrations to all livings beings when fluttered by the wind – nice thought, though like most superstitions completely illogical and can lead to beautiful natural places becoming defaced with millions of flags fluttering.

We visited another temple called Tashiding, which was interesting, but far surpassed by the beautiful scenery on the ride there and back. After 4 days in Pelling we headed to our favourite spot in Sikkim, a brilliant homestay on top of the steepest road we’ve seen, in the village of Chakung.

VIDEO: The road to Khecheopalri Lake - forests, waterfalls, snow-capped mountain views, landslides..

Khecheopalri Lake - surrounded by thick, indigenous forest

The Kazi Koti homestay (www.kazikoti.weebly.com) is the old home of one of Sikkim’s democracy leaders who fought the monarchy there. It is surrounded by a beautiful flower garden and working organic farm and is managed by his Grandson, Bhaila. The rooms are comfortable and the view of Kanchendzonga breathtaking. We ate meals with the family in the kitchen – with meat! - and enjoyed millet beer, a clearer version of umqombothi back home. The home had beautiful hanging chairs where we chilled drinking tea and reading books. Great spot!

The stunning front garden of the Kazi Koti homestay

Relaxing in a garden swing chair

More swinging chairs, breathtaking views and beautiful organic gardens

Making our contribution to the Kazi Koti gardens - two guava trees

Our very hospitable family in Chakung

After about 2 weeks in Sikkim we headed back to Darjeeling, where we left our motorbike at our friendly hotel and hopped on a bus to Bangladesh. We entered at the very north of the country at a little-used border so we were the centre of attention, attracting lots of crowds, as tourists are virtually unheard of here.


Our first night we slept in a basic hotel with big spiders and then headed to Rangpur, the first large town. Bangladesh is a very flat country with thousands of rivers in every direction. The giant Himalayan snow peaks and glaciers we visited in north India melt and flow down mostly towards Bangladesh with a third of the country looking like a giant river delta… one of the reasons why Bangladesh is so prone to flooding.

Bicycles and 3-wheeler rickshaws everywhere - a welcome relief from the noisy, polluted traffic-jammed Indian towns

It is a beautiful country which feels like it is how India must have been 30 years ago. There’s very little motorised transport and the towns are filled with many thousands of 3-wheeler bicycle rickshaws which transport everyone all over the city for between R0-50c to R2 a trip. It is almost eerie travelling silently on a rickshaw amongst hundreds of others along road devoid of the very noisy traffic that India has, like a silent travel movie. Rangpur also has a new phenomenon which is the electric three wheeler taxi, a smart looking car-thing with a motorbike front which can take 4 – 6 passengers and runs on electricity. To buy, this taxi cost just R10,000 (US$1,300) and takes 8 hours to charge on a normal household socket and can cover 120km on a single charge. It’s made in China and is definitely something that other countries, including South Africa! should consider for inner-city transport.

The rural landscape is lush green with endless rice paddies as far as the eye can see, with the odd banana grove here and there and tree-filled villages.

VIDEO: Cruising on the back of a 3-wheeler rickshaw taxi in Rangpur

Rangpur is a bustling university town with an awesome night bazaar filled with all sorts of weird and wonderful delights and it is where we began our street food fetish, kebabs, mini curries, breads, fruits, chai, sweetbreads - all costing just a few cents - is our standard dinner these days. While India is heaven for vegetarians, Bangladesh would be hell, there is meat in almost everything (which suits us carnivores just fine) although you have to look into the pots carefully or you could be in for a lung and tripe surprise...Other than the bazaar, though, Rangpur didn’t have much to detain us so we bordered another bus and headed to Rajshahi, another large town on the banks of the Padme river. In the evenings the riverside has a dilapidated boardwalk vibe with chai and food stalls which we’ve visited while watching the sun set across the river with India visible in the distance.

This country is just one massive, beautiful rice paddy!

Bangladeshi’s are friendly people who have a standard series of questions:
What is your name?
What is your country?
What is your occupation?
What is your qualification? (Bachelor? Masters?)
What is the purpose of your visit?

And Dave seems to be the man (or the badboy) for having a Bangladeshi girlfriend although sometimes Rejane is thought to be his interpreter… Dave has great novelty power here and can stop traffic by just crossing the road and can turn every head in the market with his (good? white?) looks!

Darling I like you but not so fast

While walking around the main bazaar, a couple of days after reaching Leh, Dave says: "You know, with all these backpackers around, I wonder if we'll bump into anyone we know" ... well, this is the land where serendipity, fate and kismet actually work and about 5 minutes later, we bumped into Carlos, a Bulungula regular and Bridget, head of Eco-schools in South Africa. That was the beginning of many social lunches, teas and dinners we'd have in Leh during our 3 week stay. We used Leh as our base, stored most of our stuff at our guesthouse and explored the interesting and very beautiful mountainous region from there.

Hanging with other travellers at Shanti Stupa - the town of Leh is in the background

17th century Palace in Leh, modelled on the Potala Palace in Lhasa, Tibet

After a lot of aaauummmms and sun salutations at our medidation course, our first adventure was on a 5 day homestay trek in the Sham valley area, just west of Leh. The homestays are organised by the Snow Leopard Conservancy who have turned this natural home of the snow leopard into a tourist attraction and money earner for the villagers who were exterminating the leopards because of the threat to their livestock. A portion of the homestay earnings goes into a conservancy fund that provides insurance for any livestock lost to the snow leopards. In the 6 years since the programme began, the attitude towards snow leopards has changed markedly and their numbers have been growing.

Ladakhi women in traditional dress at the Leh Festival

Our first homestay was in the village of Ulley which has only 7 households and is situated at about 4200 metres above sea level. We planned to do some walking the following day (Rejane's birthday) but it snowed all day and we ended up huddled in the kitchen with the family eating traditional Ladakhi food, drinking lots of tea, playing cards and fooling around with the kids. We decided to stick to English tea after experimenting briefly with Tibetan butter tea, which is not a tea at all but a rich, salty, buttery soup that congeals in your cup as soon as it starts to cool. Trying to do the polite thing and gulping it down quickly is not much of a solution as it is Tibetan custom to keep the visitor's cup constantly topped up...

Don't look down! - on the way to our homestay in Ulley

The kitchen, the warmest place in the homestead - Ulley Village

Stone-throwing competition - with a 5 year old...mmm

Wow! it's cold up there and it's still a way away from the winter months. All we had for washing was a basin of ice-cold water in the open courtyard and in the snow!

The following day was bright, although still chilly, while we hiked up to Tso Rangan - a holy lake at around 4500m above sea level. On the way back, we met the mama (ama-ley) of our house very busy in the fields getting her barley harvested - they only have a few more weeks before they get completely snowed in - bringing the short 3/4 months of growing and harvesting to an end before about 9 months of bitter cold sets in.

The holy lake, Tso Rangan, after a day of snow

After Ulley we had a much easier walk down to the village of Hemis - which is considerably larger (about the size of Nqileni village). There we met a group of travellers and walked with them onto our next homestay in the village of Ang where there was lots of chang, the local barley beer, being brewed. The walk to Ang turned out to be particularly challenging because we'd missed the path up the mountain slope and had to traverse a very slippery sand and skree slope on all fours! ...a bit of an adrenaline rush that makes you forget completely about how tiring the climbing is and makes you concentrate on just trying not to fall!!!

Rejane (2nd from the front) on all fours climbing the slippery skree slope...

Back at home base in Leh, we were pleasantly surprised by bumping into some more friends from home: Mike and Laura from Buccanneers - it was a real shock and such a treat - just what were chances of meeting up with some Wild Coast neighbours here in the Himalayas! After spending a couple of sociable days with the all new people we'd met around Leh and old friends from home, we headed to Nubra Valley - over Khardung La - the highest motorable road in the world at 5602 metres above sea level (18 380 feet). The drive was fantastic with more entertaining road signs dishing out good advice to motorists: "Darling, I like you but not so Fast", "Better to be Mr. Late than Late Mr.", " Love your Neighbour, but not while Driving" and some, sharing the philosophical musings of the state's authorities, like: " Without Geography, You Are Nowhere" (good point).

On the way to the top of Khardung La

On the top at Khardung La - highest motorable road in the world

There was lots of snow at the top of the mountain pass but that was no problem for Dave's new, finely honed biking skills. Having reached Nubra valley we headed for Hunder, a village surrounded by desert sand dunes, for a short two-humped camel safari.

Two-humped Camel Safari

Beautiful flower garden at our guest house in Hunder

After Hunder, we explored Panamik, another beautiful village in the valley and, having met some interesting people, decided to socialise and just chill for an extra day before heading back to base in Leh.

A few AAAaammmss on the river at Panicker Village to rebalance those chakras

Then, after more socialising and enjoying Leh's great restaurants, we decided to explore Pangong Lake on the Chinese border. It is the highest salt-water lake in the world that lies 25% in India and 75% in China. Because we'd already been over Khardung La, the highest motorable pass in the world, we figured that going to Pangong Lake, which was on the other side of only the third highest pass in the world, would be a piece of cake. It certainly didn't cross our minds that it could possibly be colder - big mistake! Well, before we had even reached the top of the pass, we were freezing and hungry - having left without having had any breakfast. There are no villages for miles on the way to the pass and nowhere to get a cup of tea or anything to eat. In desperation, we stopped at an army base, manning the sensitive India-China border, to ask how far the next village was and to our surprise the soldiers treated us to hot tea and snacks - they must have been concerned about losing a couple of tourists to hypothermia!

On the road to Pangong Lake

Pangong Lake

Pangong Lake was breathtakingly beautiful but cold, very cold and the following day, as we got ready to return to Leh, it starting snowing... and we'd thought the previous day's trip had been cold... The road over the pass was covered in ice, making the bike ride a slippery one and Rejane had to get off and walk the downhills while Daredevil Dave enjoyed the slip-and-slide.

Enjoying the icy slip-and-slide back down to Leh

Leh was starting to look like a ghost town when we got back, the buses and flights were chocoblock with tourists hightailing it out of there before it got completely snowed in. We started to make our own plans to leave but not before saying goodbye to all our new friends and enjoying our last Himalayan cuisine and fruit. In our 35 years on this earth, we have simply not tasted apples until we'd tasted the organic, homegrown apples of the small farmers of Ladakh and that's not an exaggeration - Woolies kan gaan slaap. So, finally we left Leh, Ladakh, our home for more than 3 weeks and headed south, via Tso Moriri, yet another stunning lake set in a cold and stark Himalayan rural village, the scenery taking over first place for the most beautiful we've seen on the trip so far.

VIDEO (press play!): Purple road on the way to Tso Moriri

The road from Leh, south to Manali, has a voracious reputation that didn't disappoint; our bike was duly ravished and it took three days, one flat tyre and two busted shock absorbers before we reached Manali. The road although beautiful was, once again, stark and devoid of any settled villages. We overnighted in a tented camp without any toilets and little privacy afforded by the desert landscape - challenging even for a couple of Transkei locals.

VIDEO: Snow Road on the Leh-Manali road




VIDEO: No river is wide enough...small river crossing

After 4 of our hardest travelling days yet, the landscape started to become greener and the air more moist. Our bodies were parched after the dry desert air in Ladakh where we'd had nosebleeds and skin rashes that only pure Vaseline petroleum jelly, applied twice a day (to our entire bodies) made any difference - we'd really tried everything and, yes, good old fashioned Vaseline was the only solution.

Back below the tree line

In Manali we had a good rest, watched lots of cricket and planned the way forward. We have to leave India at the end of October to renew our Indian visas. Tomorrow we start heading east to explore the region called Sikkim & Darjeeling before crossing over to Bangladesh to get new visas and to explore that country for about 6 weeks.

From a Backpacker's Paradise to Paradise on Earth

After a very relaxing time indulging in Shimla's good food and beautiful promenades, we headed off to Daramsala, the Dalai Lama's residence in exile. In Daramsala we stayed in the little town of Macleod Ganj, a backpacker's paradise. So far, our route has taken us on the Indian pilgrimage routes and to Indian holiday towns, like Shimla, so it was nice to experience the foreign backpacker circuit for a little while. Macleod Ganj has the typical backpacker chillout-type restaurants with Tibetan, Japanese, Chinese, Indian, Korean, Italian, Thai and Israeli food, several German bakeries, English breakfasts (the real deal with all the works - not easy to find in India), Continental breakfasts with croissants and lots of the local bhang going around. So we did the backpacker thing and sat around for hours talking to Tibetan monks about China’s actions towards Tibet (Dave taking the provocative side of the argument, of course), the history of Tibet and all our past and future lives. It was a busy social calendar having met up with our friend Glynnis from back home and Anke, another lovely South African, who spoilt us with our first home-cooked meal in 2 months, introduced us to their local mates and to some lovely restaurants and hang-out spots.

Delicious dinner with Glynnis and Anke at a Korean Restaurant in Macleod Ganj

Having managed to finally escape from Daramsala (a couple of days later than originally planned) we were off to a whole new world in Kashmir - Paradise on Earth - as we were told by one of the thousands of army guys posted there, who stopped us to take all our details on the way in. There's no need to be nervous going to Kashmir, India has literally posted personnel every few 100 meters on the 250km road in - in full army gear. In Srinagar, the capital of Kashmir, we planned to find a houseboat on the lake - it's the thing to do there. There are hundreds on the lake (it's a big lake so there seems to be plenty of room for all) but with tourism still a little slow post the trouble between Pakistan and India, you have to be prepared to handle all the touts trying to get you stay on their houseboat (the first tout followed our motorbike - 8kms from the lake - shouting at us from his bike!).

Flipping through Satellite TV channels in the luxury of our houseboat

With Dave's tough negotiating skills we managed to find a great houseboat at a ridiculously low price - 100ft long, very luxuriously decorated with a personal butler at your service 24/7 - all for about R250 per day for both of us including fantastic Kashmiri meals! It was strange having the butler, Rajah, ready to get us anything we needed – all we had to do was shout (like the manager of the boat did) at the top of our lungs: “RaaaaJAAAAAHHHH” and tea or laundry or dinner would appear but - being boring South Africans - we’d wait around until he happened to walk by and then, having caught his eye, we’d politely enquire whether or not a cup of tea was at all possible…

Dal Lake at sunset from the veranda of our houseboat

The houseboat thing on the lakes in Srinagar was started by the British because the Maharaja of Kashmir wouldn't allow them to buy property there - and they really decked them out well: our houseboat was lavishly decorated with hand-embroidered Kashmiri curtains and bedspreads, hand-carved walnut-wood furniture, hand-painted vases and lamps, thick maroon carpets, fine china tea-sets and satellite TV.

Lillies on Dal Lake

The lake is peaceful and beautiful - especially at sunset although you do get bugged a lot by salesmen coming around to the boats selling vegetables, flowers, saffron, Kashmiri shawls and fabrics, painted artwork and all sorts of other things. They're really tough businessmen and you have to have your negotiating skills finely tuned - it can be pretty hard work - Dave's really good at it but Rejane just gets skinned!

Boat tour on the lake

After enjoying days on boat tours around the lakes and being thoroughly spoilt by Rajah and the family who manages the houseboat, we headed off to the eastern half of Kashmir, following the ancient silk route that crossed through Asia to Europe, passing wild looking mountain nomads with their huge herds of goats – tough looking people who traverse mountains thousands of meters above sea level to graze their animals in the short summer months and who you probably wouldn’t want to challenge to a game of Survivor!

Herdsmen and their goats on the old silk road

After a tough day of bike-riding, we reached the town of Kargil, an important town during the time when the silk route was the main trading road through Asia. It’s largely populated with very devout Shia muslims – girls as young as 3 years old are covered up in burkhas. The next day, we took a detour south to the Suru valley and got our first puncture. Being a little inexperienced at motorbike tyre changes, it took a couple of hours to get it done, surrounded by curious, snot-nosed kids and very helpful local guys.

Changing the flat tyre on the Suru Valley Road

In the morning we took the first shot at our mission in the Suru valley – to see the majestic snow-capped Nun-Kun peaks and glacier fields. We got very lost and had to try it all again the following day – but it was worth it! The views of the peaks and the valley below were just breathtaking. The villages during these summer months are just idyllic with families very busy harvesting barley and wheat crops in a breathtakingly beautiful setting. The winter months are tough, though, with the villages under snow 6 feet deep for 9 months of the year and the only way in and out is to walk on the frozen river.

Views of the Valley from the mountain top

The Nun-Kun Peaks

We planned to carry on further into the remote Zanskar Valley, to see its ancient Buddhist monasteries but we busted a shock absorber on the motorbike and given the atrocious state of the roads, it was best to head back to Kargil to get it fixed. Despite its claim to fame as having been a major town on the old silk route, there isn’t much to see in Kargil itself so, having fixed the shocks, we headed to our next big destination –Leh, Ladakh, in the eastern, undisputed, half of Kashmir.

Dry desert stretch on the Kargil-Leh Road

Breathtaking views of the desert Himalaya mountains

On the 234kms stretch of road, the towns became less Muslim and more Buddhist, with pure white Stupas (Buddhist shrines) gleaming against the stark desert landscape. We were well above tree-line now and crossed a mountain pass 4019 meters (13479 feet) above sea level. The views were undoubtedly some of the most beautiful we’ve ever seen. We were lucky to have just missed a landslide and managed to wind our way cheekily through the traffic jam of hundreds buses and trucks, backed up while the landslide was being cleared – one of the biggest advantages of being on a bike! The mountain pass is so narrow that the huge trucks had to pass each other literally inches from the edge of the pass in order to clear the traffic jam.

Psychedelic trucks passing each other with inches away from a tumble down the mountain pass!


Dave on the mountain pass at 4019m (13479ft) above sea level

Having arrived in Leh, gob-smacked by the spectacular drive, we were further impressed by the fantastic value of the accommodation – lovely, bright rooms with beautiful flower and veggie gardens and views of the snow-capped peaks in the distance. Leh is also teeming with environmental, cultural, womens’ rights and other NGO’s that have managed to ban plastic in the town and who have made interesting documentaries about the changes (good and bad) that tourism has brought to the region. We participated in some fascinating and thought-provoking discussion groups before heading to relaxing meditation classes...