So we left Chennai last Wednesday morning (November 27th) and decided to crack on for a few days. Our plan was to drive, sleep and drive again until we made the 2,200kms to Varanasi in Uttar Pradesh. Getting out of Chennai was interesting, we reached the bypass only for it to completely disappear and be replaced by a country lane. Eventually we found a road going north and for the next four days we enjoyed (and some times endured) the wonders of the Indian road network.

Some times we were driving on reasonable dual carriageways, at others on the worst roads we have ever driven on, strangely the transition from one to the other would happen within a few hundred metres. Here is a little gallery of things we were to see constantly along the way:

Here we are driving along a dual carriageway and a motorbike is coming the other way down the outside lane.

Trucks do the same thing.

So do cows, these were being herded down the equivalent of a national motorway!

and some times the traffic ahead is moving just a little slowly:

or not at all:

but then you do see some very quaint sights:

and some startling ones, at one point we passed probably a hundred young men pushing old bikes loaded with coal:

We were passing these bikes for miles, definitely young man’s work!

After Balasore we turned north-west and within a few miles our average speed dropped to around 10mph. The roads were absolutely terrible (this was a major road):

and became worse:

and worse, this steel cable had fallen off the truck parked to the side:

Eventually we made it to Varanasi with a few new Indian “Rules of the Road”:

1) Trucks can go anywhere. 2) Bikes can go anywhere. 3) Tuk-tuks can go anywhere. 4) Anyone can drive the wrong way down the road if it shortens their route. 5) Anyone can herd their livestock down the road. 6) The vehicle in front has priority, there is no requirement to use your mirrors. 7) Everything is acceptable.

Along the way we were often on toll roads (Goodness knows what they spend the tolls on, it certainly isn’t the roads!). There are toll stations every few miles with huge queues, when you get to the front you realise that the queues are caused by the fact that it seems compulsory for the person working in the booth to have a chat, enter the vehicle number in a computer(!!!), have another chat, chat to all their friends, get someone to walk to the front of the vehicle to check the vehicle number, take your 500 rupee note, insist they want something smaller, eventually accept the 500 rupee note, have another chat, give you your change. Around about the second chat the vehicle behind starts to deliver multiple blasts on its invariably impressive air horns. Blasts which the toll booth operator is conditioned to ignore. Made me think it would never work on the Tamar bridge!

Not sure this would work in England either:

Imagine a massive sign (this one was probably 20 feet high) on the M40 toll road saying that David Cameron was exempt!

Each of the four nights we had to find a place to sleep, we were quickly to discover there are no places to sleep, you just need to pull over somewhere and hope it will be peaceful. It never was!

The first night we pulled off the road and drove down a track into a quarried area, it was almost dark and looked beautiful:

Wherever we parked we attracted a crowd, even in places that looked absolutely deserted. The people just appear from nowhere. They also have a different sense of “personal space”, more like “communal space”. Often I would get out of the vehicle and there would be people almost pushing past me to look into it! It’s actually quite amusing and never threatening.

In the morning after our quarry night a lovely lady was standing outside and invited us to her home. She lived on a small chicken farm next to the quarry. We went along with her and had a super breakfast, curried chicken and chapatis! This was her, her sister and her daughter:

and this is the daughter (Anushka) preparing the chapatis:

and this was their kitchen:

As we were driving away we spotted these guys up on the rock side, another example of how tough the work is:

The second night we parked in an industrial estate, it proved to be a very industrial estate, we were woken earlier than we might have liked by the workers music presumably pepping everyone up for the day ahead.

The third night we parked up by a small lake:

We were close to a village and most of the villagers seemed to turn up at one point or another during the evening to check out the foreigners.

In the morning we were again invited to one of the locals homes, this time a young man who was a fork truck driver and was living with his mother, grandmother, wife, sister and daughter. This was the family:

They had a lovely house with a temple in the garden:

The final night we changed tactics, we decided to drive into a small farm and ask if we could park in the farmyard, that way we would get all the inquisitive bits done up front and then we could sleep without fear of further visitors. It seemed to work very well at first, we made friends, parked Elsie, spent an hour showing the whole family our pictures on the laptop (they were totally engrossed) and then went to sleep.

Unfortunately before long the local police arrived and asked us what we were doing, we explained and went back to sleep. About an hour later another more senior group arrived with the first policeman in tow and told us that we were parked in an area prone to Naxalite terrorism and would have to leave! We were in Jharkhand state, you can read all about the Naxals here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naxalite–Maoist_insurgency

So having said we wouldn’t drive at night in India we had to drive at night to “motorway” and find another rest place (not easy). Eventually we found somewhere in a truck stop and went off to sleep. It’s amazing how well you can sleep with trucks driving past and horns blaring all night! I was left mourning the vision I had created of an idyllic farmyard breakfast with fresh eggs and chai. Oh well, next time.

Finally yesterday we made it to Varanasi stopping on the way at Bodh Gaya (where Budha gained enlightenment, revered by Budhists the world over) – but that can wait for the next blog!