31 March – Kathmandu, Nepal

Nepal is enjoyable. I arrived 9 days ago, entering from Banabas in India to Mahendrenegar, at the western end of Nepal, then following the length of the country, arriving in Kathmandu about 8.15 a couple of nights ago, 2 hours after dark and in the rain! I made for The Bakery Cafe on Jawalekel roundabout (for those of you who know Kathmandu), one of a chain all run by deaf staff, and was met by one half of my current hosts, Mary and Huw, friends of my friend, Sheila D, in Bristol.

As for the rest of my time in India, it took 4 days from Agra to the Nepali border. I was glad to have cycled this last section in India (I might have taken the train, the way I was feeling), as it was more pleasant than the majority of my cycling in India had been: clean villages, pleasant countryside, friendly encounters, quieter roads, copeable harrassment, filmed interview by a reporter, allegedly from CNN, and his team of 4 assistants (but I realised the next day that I'd not seen any press ID, so who knows), easy cycling; this all served to give me less of a negative experience of the country.

I realised soon after entering Nepal why I had felt so low in India: after saying goodbye to the welcoming sociableness of Gujerat, all I was doing was cycling along busy, noisy, dangerous main roads; only being able to look forward to grimy hotels at the end of each day! Surely, it is no wonder that, coupled with the other incidents I have previously mentioned, I had felt as I did. Hence, in Nepal, I made the very conscious decision to camp as much as possible, which I did for 4 of the 7 nights en route to Kathmandu. I safe-camped the first 2 nights: one on private land, the other by the roadside in a village (honestly, it felt very safe); and wild-camped in the forest for the next 2 nights, scaring myself witless the first night with over-imaginations of people creeping about and so deafening myself with earplugs the second night to stop these false imaginings. I really enjoyed the camping; SO lovely to be away from dreary hotel rooms inhabited by mosquitoes and bedbugs.

In Nepal the going was flat for the first few days, then some climbing, until the last 2 days before Kathmandu, when it was all uphill. Great scenery, though, following a river all the way up; sometimes down at river level, sometimes way up at top-of-gorge level. Loads of adrenalin-enhancing rapids on the river; it would have been fun to have seen some boats going down them.

I had completely underestimated the final stretch from Mugling to Kathmandu (I was told it would be flat; I have since learned that Nepali 'flat' is akin to British 'mountainous'; everything's relative). As the day wore on, I walked up most of the uphill bits, had frequent rests, hoped someone would offer me a lift (in the Middle East, I'd have had loads of offers by now), felt exhausted, still great scenery, stuck my thumb out a few times, gritted my teeth, plodded on; no opportunity to camp and not enough cash to stay anywhere, determined , anyway, to reach Kathmandu. I was on the road that day for 12 hours to cover 74 miles; the last 2 hours in the dark along bumpy, busy, broken roads. Eeek. But - I managed it – and without crying! I felt very proud of myself; maybe this trip is beginning to have a positive effect on me. :-)

Mine hosts are really kind; I appreciate staying in a home; I loved going with them to their church on Sunday (first time since that awful service in Turkey on Christmas Day), a warm, friendly, spirit-filled community. And just what I needed after a barren time without Christian fellowship.

The main purpose of being in Kathmandu is to organise my ongoing trip to Lhasa. All indications to date are that it will not be possible to go as an independent traveller; that I should have to be part of group. This is: a) incredibly costly, b) seemingly limited to one direction only, ie. flying to Lhasa, then cycling back to Kathmandu – not particularly helpful for my ongoing route! c) I don't fancy being in a group. Therefore, I am currently looking into arranging a (compulsory) Tibetan guide to meet me at the Nepal/Tibet border, thence to cycle with me for the 3 weeks to Lhasa. In theory, this should be at a fraction of the group cost. Oh, another, 'small' consideration is that the border is currently closed. Hmmm ... . There is talk of it opening on 8 April, but .... well ... let's see, eh?

BTW, I have now clocked up 9004 miles.

16 March - Agra

The Taj Mahal! A serenely beautiful monument, built in celebration and praise of love. I arrived at dawn, so as to see the changing hues on the white marble over the next 5 hours. It is a sublime view, gazing up the watery avenue to the graceful symmetry of this mausoleum, dedicated to a beloved wife from a true romantic of a husband. Aaaah .... . Doesn't it just send shivers up and down one's spine and make one's eyes well up?

I have been in Agra for the last 4 days, resting my painful ankle. I had left Delhi on the worst day possible, making by far the biggest mistake so far on this trip. It was the festival of Holi, which means that everyone gets brightly coloured paint powders, water and coloured foam thrown/squirted over them.

I had been warned of the festival and to make sure I was not cycling after dark. So, silly me, I didn't even think there were implications during the day. I soon found out, though, that there were. Initially, it was OK, I could cope with the paint and water; but, as the day wore on and people had been drinking, it all came too menacing and really very unpleasant. It was THE worst experience I've had at any time; I felt extremely vulnerable. Even when I finally found somewhere to stop for the night, (camping in the grounds of a tourist accommodation complex - the room rates were too high to take a room), I was confronted unpleasantly by a young guy.

The next day was a very nervous one for me. But, do you know what saved my sanity? My daughter thinks this is pretty sad; but it was seeing a McDonalds and stopping there for burger, iced coffee, soft scoop ice cream + choc sauce, and filter coffee. I never normally choose to go for a McDonalds and for me to do so, voluntarily, and in India!, well that was just too much for my daughter. :-) Another thing that helped me was to read the letters from my children, that they had secreted in my baggage before leaving home and which I take out every so often to read. The combination worked a mirale: back on the road again, I no longer felt the victim.

I was interviewed and photographed in Delhi by Time Out; the article should appear in the next copy in about a week's time. They should be sending me a pdf, so that I can post it on the website.

The hotel in Agra in which I'm staying, the Maya, is slightly upmarket from my usual; it is a little above my budget, even though they have given me a discount on the room and on the food, but it is lovely to be in a clean hotel for a change and, anyway, I feel I deserve to spoil myself a bit. :-)

As ever, I think often of people at home and those I have met along the way.

9 March - The Leprosy Mission, Delhi

I spent a wonderful day at The Leprosy Mission (TLM) hospital in Nand Nagari and in a leprosy colony, meeting project staff, of the 'Shalom: developing leprosy colonies in Delhi' project, and residents of the colony. The leprosy hospital is one of 18 TLM hospitals throughout India. All treatment is given free, supported by monies raised worldwide through the charity set-up, as well as from non-leprous facilities offered in the hospital, such as orthopaedics, eye, skin.

As well as talking with the Medical Director, Dr Abraham, I spent a considerable time in the Physiotherpay Department with Indranil Ghosh, the chief physiotherapist, sitting in as he saw his patients: some were coming for their regular check-ups: recording their muscle power integrity, checking for damage to their de-sensitised limbs (eg one patient came with burnt skin from smoking cigarettes and not feeling/noticing when the cigarette and burnt down to his fingers), progressive corrective splinting for acquired deformities; others came just having been diagnosed with leprosy, still infectious, for assessment. Such patients are not isolated: only 5% of people will contract leprosy from another person and, as it can be easily treated (as long as it is discovered) with Multi-Drug Therapy (MDT), it is considered unnecessary to isolate. One such patient came in whilst I was there, sent from a private hospital. This was encouraging, as so often, hospitals just give the patient a course of MDT to take away with them, but give no thought to any additional needs, such as corrective splinting or surgery. TLM want all patients to be referred to them so that this can be done.

There are about 30 leprosy colonies in Delhi. I was taken to one of a group of many near the hospital. The Shalom project is concentrating mainly: on the mainstreaming into schools of the children of leprosy parents, against whom there is stigma by association; the provision of improved sanitation in the colonies. Last year, there was success with a local, enlightened principle of a private school who gave scholarships to 15 children to attend the expensive school. Even so, other schools are yet to follow suit. As so often, attitudes may take a while to change.

Variuos centres run by TLM provide employment for leprosy sufferers, thus enabling them to provide for themselves and their families. The products they make are available online or through catalogues. If you would like to supprt TLM, please have a look at their website.

8 March - Delhi

"I am alone and unhappy; worse is not possible". So said a friend. And it's pretty much how I have been feeling. If I was at home, I could talk to someone. I am India and so have to write it in my journals. Suffice to say that, for future trips, I shall endeavour to have a travelling companion. In two months, though, I shall be midway through my voyage of discovery; at the start of the home-straight. Five weeks after that will be the anniversary of my arrival in Santiago, the completion of the St Jakob pilgrimage route - a very special time. Up 'til now, I have been on a cycle trip; but now I really think of myself as being on a pilgrimage. The point of a pilgrimage is: 1) to become the person you are, rather than being the person you think you should be; 2) to perceive one's purpose in life, thence to pursue it. Paradoxically, despite being on a pilgrimage, I feel in a state of limbo; maybe in a few months I shall feel less so! ;-)

On a lighter note :-) I arrived in Delhi this afternoon. It was noisy and busy and not as bad as I thought it would be, mainly cos I am more used to the traffic now than when I arrived in Bombay; but also there was not the dirty squalor that was so blatantly on view in Bombay. I am staying in the Tibetan colony, away from the hustle and bustle of the centre. I went past the Red Fort; I'd forgotten how huge it was (I visited it about 25 years ago whilst in transit between Kathmandu and the Middle East).

In the past 10 days I have hurt my left ankle (laying me up (in the very nice, quiet hotel, Natural View) in Pushkar for 6 nights); I have a tender left thumb joint which refuses to improve; I was head-butted on my right thigh by a cow!; I strained my right sacro-iliac joint whilst replacing the back wheel after my (?4th) puncture. How decrepit a figure I am. My ankle is still painful, but need to press on as I am falling behind with my schedule, which up 'til now has been fairly loose, but I have to bear in mind the need to be in Alaska for July and August.

Pushkar was one big shopping bazaar and displayed a commercial spirituality: some tourists being charged ridiculous sums if they wanted to go down to the holy lake. I used my recuperation (3 days bed rest) to read: finishing Slumdog, managing to read all of Midnight's Children (Salman Rushdie) and starting on one of many Paulo Coelho books I am acquiring and dashing through.

Tomorrow I should be visiting a centre of The Leprosy Mission (one of my charities) here in Delhi; and I should be being interviewed by TimeOut (India).

24 February - Udaipur

I love India for the amazingly beautiful colourful saris everywhere you turn. The colour is made more vibrant against the neutral colours of the landscape and many of the buildings. At the same time, it seems such a strange juxtaposition to the dirt and squalor that also abounds. Maybe it is precisely for that reason, even subconsciously, that there is this glorious, distractive palette.

I stayed with friends of the Luton family a couple of days up the road, followed by a few days cycling and staying in dirty, grimy hotels. Which, I think is why now, in Udaipur, I keep on staying an extra night (3 to date, but I am definitely leaving tomorrow morning, after my fourth night here). Why? Because I am staying in a delightful oasis of a guest house: family-run, relaxing, great home-cooking, chipmunks scooting around all over the garden and the host saying, tomorrow is tomorrow, see how you feel then.

I have visited the City Palace, currently have henna-ed hands, had a 'manicure' (but need to get out my nail file to complete the job!), a 10-cut hair trim!, and invited home for tea and chapatti by the manicurist (cos her daughter spoke English - of a sort).

(look carefully at the design - you might spot some familiar names)

I'm reading lots; apart from the Bible each day, I've just bought Slumdog Millionnaire (don't say I don't try to keep up with current trends!) and another Paul Coelho book, The Zahir (I was given The Pilgrimage before leaving UK).

Israel

I have waited until now to write something about my side trip to Israel as it is such a sensitive issue in the Middle East.

After my holiday in Asia and saying goodbye to my friends in Amman, I went down to the Dead Sea and crossed over to Israel, spending the first night in Jericho, which is under Palestinian administration. I had a friendly reception, even taken by a taxi driver to the outskirts of Jerusalem (he's not allowed within Jerusalem itself) and shown the dividing wall. A horrible sight. Has it worked anywhere else? Haven't we seen walls in other countries come down? Why? Why? Why? is all that goes round your mind.

Next day I cycled to Jerusalem. It was only 30 kms from Jericho, but it was tough. OK, I was going from below sea level to quite how up [no, I don't know the elevation! :-) ] and some of the gradients were pretty steep, especially after the turn-off from the main road towards Jerusalem itself; but also it was the day after my pretty bad fall on the downhill skating rink and I think I must have been physically shaken enough to have affected me the following day. As it was such a short distance I underestimated the time it would take and I ran out of water; but someone stopped to offer me a lift, which I declined, but they also gave me some water. Something always turns up.

Cycling down the hill into Jerusalem was great. It was one of the things on my trip to which I had been looking foward with enthusiasm and awe. It was great feeling to be in the Holy City. I was wondering around the area of Jaffa Gate looking for some accommodation, which is when I encounterd the endless numbers of cyclists, at the end of which was Tom, The Hungry Cyclist. I stayed in the Jewish Quarter in a comfortable hostel for girls/women for 3 nights; one of the people I encountered was a nuclear scientist spending a few days in Jerusalem after some conference down south.

The place I really wanted to go to was the Garden of Gethsemane, not for the church, but for the site where Jesus supposedly prayed in anguish to His Father, whilst his disciples slept, before being betrayed and arrested. A little stone carving depicts the place (I included it in my batch of photos for that part of my journey - see if you can spot it). I sat there in quiet reflection for quite a while, reading the passage in the Bible. It is such a poignant reading. Many people go past without even noticing the little shrine, going straight to the big church a little further on, but for me, it was a special time just being in that place.

I visited Jaffa, Tel Aviv, Nazareth, Sea of Galilee. I wanted to stay on a kibbutz, but they are run on such a commercial basis now that they were well beyond my means; neither would they allow me to put up my tent in the grounds, even though I was told by some Israelis in Jordan that I would be able to do so! Humph! However, my last night in Israel, right at the border, I did end up staying in one, only because there was nowhere else and I had misheard the price the woman quoted me and so thought it was going to be much cheaper than it actually turned out to be! But, it was, after all, what I had wanted to do.

I was very glad to have been able to have cycled through the Holy Land. It was one of the important destinations for me on my trip. I met wonderful people. I feel so sorry for the limitations that so many nationalities have in their freedom of movement around the world. I realise how privileged I am to be born British, as it does not limit me in such a way. It is very humbling. I met an Israeli who dearly wanted to travel to Iran because he had heard of the friendliness of the people; but, of course, as things stand, there seems to be no chance of him ever being able to do that. And, likewise, Iranians wanting to visit countries such as Israel and unable to do so. Such a shame. Such a sadness. Why?

15 February - Navsari, India

A new continent. After 4 months in the Middle East, I left Muscat in Oman on 12 February.

I failed in my (considerable) efforts to obtain a sea passage to India. :-( So much for my ethos of slow boats, instead of frenzied flying. It was a real disappointment. Ah well, what can one do, but try one's best?

On the way to Muscat, I encountered various surprising folks, not least was the Palestinian who, in response to my saying I was English, immediately countered with 'I hate the English - more than the Israelis, more than the Americans' - and then ended up giving me accommodation for the night!

Other accommodation included staying in a home in a village, in a hotel in Muscat, then 2 nights with a Malaysian/Aussie family, as a result of an encounter in a breadshop when I had asked if I could pitch my tent in the garden. Su, Kieran, Frankie and Caitlan were very welcoming; Caitlan, in particular, seemed struck by my trip. Thanks, guys, for such a comfortable stay.

I met a cyclist! Always cause for celebration. Peder has cycled from Sweden via bits of Africa to Yemen, to Oman, now going on to the Emirates, Iran, the Stans and China (then see how his money goes). As usual with cyclists, a joyful encounter. He was interviewed in Oman resulting in having a couple of articles published in Omani papers that week (I have a copy of one of them).

Now, having gone through the trauma of flying with my bike (being joined, on my way to the airport, by a Brit, Barry, out for a cycle. He flies helicopters), I am in India. I arrived at and left Bombay airport cycling north along Highway 8. For the first 40 kms or so, all I could think of was: a) I'm going to die b) I can't handle the squalid poverty c) I want to get out of here. Truly the worst first impression of a country I have so far encountered.

Since then, though, things have looked up: I am still alive; I have been staying with the most lovely Indian family from Luton; I've spent the last 2, of 5, days at an Indian wedding. I met Nick coming out of a restaurant of a hotel where I was going to inquire about room rates. He invited me to stop over when I passed Naswari. His parents, Ishwar and Indu (known also as Ken and Linda!) have been totally non-plussed by my turning up out of the blue, even inviting me to the celebrations of the double wedding of some cousins. I was welcomed by the wedding host as the woman 'who has cycled from London to be here' and invited onto the stage to say a few words!

I was taken on a visit to a Deaf school. It is residential, started in the 1950s; sign language is the communication and teaching language; and the children are delightful, even being able to understand my signing and me theirs (to some extent), which begs itself to encourage possibly setting up some connections with the Deaf school in Bristol?

Weather is hot. England, I hear, is still snowy and cold. Poor you.