Just Like Riding A Bike

 

The last I had travelled substantial away from the 4th Corner was way back at the first week of March 2020.  I was scheduled to get on a plane Sunday March 1, bound for Kansas City to run a week of training sessions.  Foreshadowingly (that's now a word) Kansas City was where I had led my first sessions under the newly bestowed label Technical Trainer - the training department has since been obsolete and I was transitioned into something else. On that Friday word came down that all corporate travel was immediately suspended (the pandemic, d'uh) and explicit permission was required from the highest level of C-Suite executive before proceeding.   Against the easier-to-ask-forgiveness instructions of my then "manager" I went ahead and requested (and received) said explicit permission - the submission form letter HR had sent out late in the afternoon helped.  While the amount of traffic through Sea-Tac that Sunday was normal it certainly was not upon my return the following Saturday.  The term deserted comes to mind as I recall walking through the terminal to the car park shuttle bus.  475-days later I find myself trying to remember how to ride a motorcycle, 400-miles a day, day after day day after day.... and getting in and out of hotel room without forgetting anything.

Pan Con Todo

Southern Spain seems to be more about food than any other thing.  After riding through a big chunk of Andalucia I am struck by how much of every possible piece of arable land is being used intensively for agriculture.  And most impressively it's not a mono-culture focused activity, every other field had something else growing with some sections being harvested and others just being planted.  There was a particularly aromatic few miles that I will long remember where what smelled and looked like sweet onions were being crated up. 

A variety of perennials were in the mix as well. I am for sure figuring out how to bring home some fresh press virgin Spanish olive oil and maybe some wine, probably red.

In the Malaga market where I happened to serendipitously stumbled into on that first morning anything and everything even nominally considered edible could be found with a huge percentage originating within 100-miles of the place. Vegetables, fruit, tomatoes (just based on size and variety deserving to be called out singularly regardless of the whole fruit or vegetable thing), fish, beef, pork, lamb, chicken, spices yadayadayada it was all there. 

And in the restaurants - and where there was one restaurant there was at least another - the abundance continued.  Even the lunch menu in the most backwater place had several pages.  Although simply asking for a "jamon y queso con un Coke-a-Cola" usually did the trick.  And regardless of what was ordered a side of bread is was served with everything: breakfast, lunch and dinner.  And it wasn't always that steaming when you rip it open fresh out of the oven doughy goodness.  Sometimes it was a just slice of the local equivalent of Wonder bread or a bag of miniature bread sticks.  I definitely have a preference for the fresher.

At one point the shacking of my head must have reached terminal velocity as a yet another side of bread was delivered with my ham and cheese sandwich; "pan con todo" came the proud triumphant shout from the next table.  This then prompted reminiscents of a Spanish grandmother who always asked where was the bread when it was not immediately present on the table.  As someone who had survived the Civil War in the 30's bread was often the only food on the table.  So without the bread there might as well be no other food.

One Map, One Motorcycle and One Reservation

This trip was a to be a little different than previous rides that (mostly) did not commence directly out my driveway.   No guides, no following van with a spare bike, no luggage waiting for you in the room... OK, that one I is kind of nice.  If I want to sleep in and take a faster route, I can.  I feel I want to spend a half day at some Roman ruins, I can.  If I completely change my mind and decide to go somewhere else on a whim, I can.

This ride is also to be a continuation of where should Ian move to when he retires.  Spain keeps popping up on the list so voila, here I am.  Nowone of the suggestions that always shows up when researching on how to become an ex-pat, or in my case and ex-ex-pat, is to rent before if ever buying a residence.  Thing is, here in Spain there are whole villages for sale - cheap.

Hey Google, how do you say open house in Spianish?

10000 Steps and a nap

There are some redeeming features with Google when it comes to traveling, such as answering those two most pressing questions one can sometimes find asking themselves: where am I and what did I do last night?  Fortunately the answer is always close at hand on your phone.  Thanks Google!

Malaga is branding itself as the City of Museums, which is kind of ballsy considering that reportedly there literally were no museums here 20-years ago.  It also now finds itself at a point where the economy has become tipped over towards tourism so much that tearing down an old mansion (palacio in the local parlance) to put up an brand new modern hotel is as almost a monthly or even weekly occurrence.   There are recent attempts to build the new from the inside out saving the old facades but it really is just a matter of when not if the full Disneyfication is complete.  Which will be too bad because it’s kind of a cool place at the moment.  

Having inadvertently arrived for International Museum day and the annual Night of Culture with all entrance fees waived and a live music concert on every corner I somehow managed to mostly walk my first day in town with only the Picasso museum - a local boy made good - enticing me to line up with the crowds.  A late afternoon siesta had me feeling like a native and well set up for that evening’s Tapas and Wine tour which did not disappoint.

Hey Google, where is Malaga?

“Malaga Spain is five thousand four hundred and fourteen miles from Bellingham Washington”
Hey Google, thanks for being so helpful.
“I’m sorry but I can’t help you with that now”

The question I should have asked is “Hey Google, how do I get to Malaga?”.
But then I already knew the answer to that one.

1) 9AM airport shuttle to Seattle,
2) 4PM flight to Calgary
3) 11PM flight to London - Heathrow
4) 3PM airport shuttle to London - Gatwick
5) 8PM flight to Malaga
6) 11:30PM taxi ride to the hotel.

And in the midst of all that I managed to make a foodie tour reservation for Saturday night, change my return Heathrow airport shuttle drop off terminal and the departure time for my SeaTac shuttle pickup.  Logistics, it’s all about the logistics... at least until you get there.

Logistics

Sometimes it’s just a matter of having all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place allowing one to get from point A to point B in the expected manner.  For me point A was Minneapolis Minnesota Wednesday morning and point B being Malaga Spain Friday night... with point C being a few hours at home in the Pacific North West in between just to make it interesting.  Having got my ass out of bed early enough to drop off the rental car and have breakfast at the Minneapolis airport - a fine example of an airport if there ever was one - the flight back to Seattle arrived a little bit early.   And if Northbound I-5 hadn’t of been backed up 10-miles through Seattle because of a “significant” traffic accident the puzzle pieces would have been falling into place nicely.  On the bright side I did get to drive through the new tunnel before the toll started up.  

The other challenge to keeping the logistics in line (herding cats anyone?) is to manage the dynamics of the situation.  In this case as I turned my phone back on disembarking the plane from Minnesota a message showed up from the airline of my return flight 2-weeks hence confirming the itinerary changes... wait, changes?!?!?  I didn’t make any stinking changes.  Seems like the airline in question decided I should route through Dallas and an additional too short for my luggage to possibly be transferred onto the next flight layover instead of the originally booked direct hop back to Seattle.  Now to be fair this whole trip is pretty much possible from draining various points banks and beggars shouldn’t be choosers but still, Dallas?  Just because I’m there once a month doesn’t mean I have any sort of affinity towards the place - but the Flora Street Cafe is highly recommended if anyone is looking for the ultimate expressions of new wave fusion American southwest cuisine.

Oh ya, logistics - so now I had been encumbered with updating the shuttle reservation before departing SEA-TAC airport because my next stop is in Canada and free domestic calling is free domestic calling... oh look, craft beer.

Change Of Plans (Part Deux) July 11-12 2018

We’ve saved the big one ’til last: Khardung La Pass! Join the elite handful of motorcyclists that have stood on top of the world with their motorcycle by their side. Reputed to be the highest motorable road in the world, Khardung La pass sits at 5,380m above sea level (that’s the same height as Mt. Everest basecamp!). The views from the top are second to none, looking across Zanskar and the Kangri Mountains. We’ll ride down the other side on rocky dirt roads until we reach our final destination. 

Having returned to Leh after a night at Pangong Lake it was off to Nubra Valley in the morning.  Again the landslide revised the itinerary from what was originally supposed to be 2-nights luxury glamping at the eco-lodge to just 1 night.  However due to the 8AM departure we would be arriving in the early afternoon with some time to explore.  The next day it was back over the highest motorable road in the world for a second time and into to Leh for the last time. 

On the ride through Nubra Valley the locals were all out lining the street with all the buildings adorned with gold and red fabric.  While they all politely waves at us it was the Dalia Lama they were all there to see.

Best government road sign of the day: "Life is not destination it is a journey"

...things got very zen in the Nubra Valley.

Change Of Plans July 10 2018

After enjoying breakfast and a couple of cups of chai tea down by the lake, we’ll saddle up for another days fine riding through the mountains. We’ll travel through an incredibly remote region along an old military road that has only recently been opened up to tourists. The smooth road surfaces cruise us down into the beautiful Nubra Valley. 

That was what our ride was supposed to have been today but a landslide in one of the narrow canyons north of Pangong Lake had us coming back into Leh for the night.

Best government road sign of the day: "First you speed then you divorce"

Insurance July 9 2018

Riding over Chang La pass at 5,280m we’ll cruise over towards Pangong lake – the highest salt water lake in the world. Watch out for the huge Himalayan Yaks that patrol the valley! We’ll stop for a picnic lunch alongside a stream in this beautiful valley, before continuing down towards the lake.

The lake, shared by both India and China, is 134km long and a spectacular sight with snow capped mountains and orange rock faces reflecting off of the perfectly clear blue waters.

Turns out Jim the fellow who fell heavily twice the second day of riding had 5-broken ribs and over the preceding few days developed a hemotoma.  At the summit of  Tanglang La he was put in the van and yesterday morning taken to the hospital in Leh and into surgery soon after.  Apparently while in hospital in India it is the family that takes care of the patient so  Jim's friend along with the guide and medic took shifts overnight keeping him comfortable while he recovered.  Due to the nature of his injury and the surgery he likely won't be able to fly for a few weeks so as we left this morning arrangements were being made with his insurance carrier for a room in the best hotel in town.

Best government road sign of the day: "Don't be a gama* in the land of the llama"

* Ya, Google doesn't know what a gama is either.

PS: I won my bet, Mark was back on his bike today and one of the Portugese has still not received his luggage.  That being said his travel insurer or Air India will soon find out that they have been ponying up for the most expensive motorcycle gear and casual wear to be found in Manali and Leh.

3 Pass Day July 7 2018

After breakfast we will saddle up for what might well be the most beautiful days riding you’ll ever have experienced (this is certainly the opinion of Toby, one of the Ride Expeditions owners!). We start the day by riding up ‘Gata Loops’ – 21 hairpin turns that snake up the mountainside. Riding towards the Upper Indus Valley and over two more of the World’s highest passes (Lachalung La: 5,085m & Tanglang La: 5,330m) the winding roads are an immensely joyous ride and there are fresh breathtaking views around each and every corner. We do have a larger itdistance to cover today, but the road conditions are excellent (with exceptions of course – we’re still in the Himalayas!) and we’re able to increase the pace.

Longest riding day of the trip, wheels rolling at 7:00AM with 260 km to Leh our next stop.  And once again through some absolutely undescribable terrain that neither words nor pictures can do justice to. 

As we descended from the second highest motorable road in the world (Tanglang La at 5,330m/17480ft) into the Ladakh region the presence of the Indian army became a lot more pervasive.  Being a border state with both Pakistan and China there were military check points at increasingly frequent intervals and multiple large bases.

Upon arrival at the hotel the most pressing question was not what the wifi code was but where would be able to watch the England - Sweden World Cup quarter final match.

Best government road sign of the day: "Be Gentle On My Curves"

Thin Air July 6 2018

We’ll ride smooth tarmac in the morning that curves its way up to the scenic Baralacha La pass which sits at a whopping 4,883m above sea level. We stop just on the other side for lunch and there are three things that might now happen: 1. Nothing at all; 2. You might feel a bit queasy; 3. You might feel a bit drunk and giddy – happy days! Don’t worry though, this is just your body acclimatising to the high altitudes and it should not last long. Our medic will be on hand to monitor to your blood oxygen levels and we have oxygen bottles to hand if required.

After lunch, we will descend to the Sarchu plateau where our campsite awaits. After enjoying a buffet dinner in the ‘restaurant tent’ we will light a bonfire to keep our toes warm and toast marshmallows!

According to Wikipedia - altitude sickness, also known as acute mountain sickness (AMS), is a negative health effect of high altitude, caused by acute exposure to low amounts of oxygen at high altitude. It presents as a collection of nonspecific symptoms, acquired at high altitude or in low air pressure, resembling a case of "flu, carbon monoxide poisoning, or a hangover".  AMS typically only occurs above 2,400 metres (8,000 ft).

There had been much talk up to this day as to how everyone was feeling about the high altitudes we were about to encounter.  The answers ranged from blasé to concerned worry.  As it happens as we headed out that morning the infamous Delhi Belly was the more immediate health issue for many.

A stunning morning ride through mountain canyons and up over the pass.  After ascerting that there were no immediate AMS issues to deal with we carried on to the extended lunch stop where the monitor in continued.  A few headaches and some shortness of breath but all in all we were good to continue the short ride to that nights "camping" site.

Best government road sign of the day: "Darling I really like you but not so fast"

And The Carnage Continues July 5 2018

Leaving from Manali, we continue the ride alongside the Beas river before starting our climb up to our second high pass of the trip so far: Rohtang La at 3,876m. The roads up to the top are incredible, with countless hairpin turns and spectacular views across the hills. The roads get a little rougher as we descend into the Lahaul Valley, but with its cascading waterfalls and rugged terrain the scenery is no less impressive. Tonights destination is the small town of Keylong… if your beard needs a trim, we recommend the local barber experience!

The clouds broke overnight and the clear blue sky revealed the surrounding mountains.  As for the missing luggage - still lost in the fog of Air India baggage hell.

Todays ride could be simply described in a few words: first we go up up up then we go down down down.  Actually we had to go down a bit first as the hotel was at the top of a steep treacherous driveway.  Still slick from the recent rain too much front brake claimed yet another victim.  This accident saw a visit to the emergency room, x-rays and a stage 1 shoulder displacement diagnosis.  Mark would join us later at dinner firmly believing that he would be back on the bike by Monday.  He's a tough guy - my money has him on a bike before the Portugese group get their luggage.

Best government road sign of the day:. "Love your neighbour but not while driving".

T.I.A. July 4 2018

We’ll ride the rough roads down into Banjar Valley, through the pine forests and quaint rural villages. We’ll descend until we meet the Beas River which we’ll then ride alongside all the way to Manali. The traffic gets a bit manic so you’ll need to keep your wits about you as you weave around trucks, rickshaws, dogs and cows! We’ll escape this as best we can by crossing to the other side of the river and riding tiny winding roads through small villages, all the way up to our excellent 5* hotel.

Couple of things to remember while travelling here:

1- There will be no hot water.
1a- If there is hot water there won't be enough cold water to cool it down.
2- There will be no WiFi.
2a- If there is WiFi there will be no internet connection.
3- Things will be late.
3a- If things are on time things will be broken.

Another rainy day riding through the Himalayan foothills.  Good news is that overnight 1 of the missing pieces of luggage was delivered via an overnight taxi ride from New Delhi.  Bad news - there were literally too many bags of misplaced luggage for Air India to process so the 4 riders from Portugal continue on in borrowed gear.

I mentioned that there was tour staff and vehicles trailing the group along the road.  Good thing too as this morning one of the riders took a fall having grabbed too much front brake on a slick muddy downhill section.  After a thorough check over by the medic he exchanged motorcycles with the mechanic and was on his way.  Unfortunately soon after he misjudged a steep downhill switch back and rode off the road.  At that point all decided that continuing in the van would be the wise choice here.  The van ride lasted until lunch when he decided that he would feel safer riding on the motorcycle than in the van...

This Is Asia after all.

The Mechanic's Bike July 3 2018

The first day of riding on this Himalayan motorcycle tour, and boy is it a good one! We leave the chaos of Shimla behind and quickly find ourselves on beautifully paved winding roads that are simply a joy to ride! We descend down to a river valley and turn onto a road that is much less smooth, but no less beautiful.

In the afternoon we will steadily climb on winding roads that cut through pine forests up to our first high pass of the trip – ‘Jalori’ pass, sat at 3,100m above sea level. We will stop at the top outside ‘Mahakali Temple’ for biscuits and a cup of chai before riding the newly paved road down to our hotel, perched on the hillside offering spectacular views over the trees.

It wouldn't be a motorcycle adventure if there wasn't some rain, so what better way to start this one than with some early Monsoon Season downpours. Our first task was to get out of Shimla... Actually our first task was to source gear for those in group who had yet to be reunited with their missing luggage - the reports of eyes on bags and couriers enroute the previous night had been at best optimistic. 

On this ride the corner man technique would be used to keep us all on the same route. The general idea is that at each significant interchange the rider immediately behind the guide would stop and direct all the following riders through.  Works well in concept but for those familiar with the "Kent Turned Right" story, not impervious to utter failure.  Hopefully things would be different here.

A few of the other instructions were that if anyone had any issues with themselves or their bike they where to stop on the side of the road and wait for the medic, mechanic or support vehicle all of which were trailing the group.  With regards to  an issue with the bike you would exchange yours with the mechanic and carry on while he resolved the issue.  I got to be the first to put this into practice as my bike stalled not too far out of the hotel gate and would not start.  I wasn't all that surprised as the mechanics were furiously fussing over my bikes electrical system after breakfast just before departing.   And I must say the mechanics bike was in very good shape with an extremely in tune engine, crisp shifting transmission and a sense that every bolt was torqued exactly to specification.  The seat still was just as bad, guess there's no fixing that.

Anyways the day progressed over some unbelievable roads as we headed down from Shimla (2000m) to Sainj (800m) then over Jalori pass (3100m) then Shoja for the night.  At times the rain lightened and even broke enough to thoroughly enjoy the ride and the scenery.  Other times you were at best guessing where the road was and hoping for the best. 

Ditch Weed July 1 - July 2 2018

Still trying to catch up on sleep the goal for Sunday was hang out around the hotel, match some Moto GP and World Cup while getting a load of laundry done.  Now with the laundry, before leaving I had confirmed with the hotel that yes indeed that service was proudly available 7-days and that they have provided an express option with a 3-hour turn around.  So I packed up my dirty clothes checked the box for express 3-hour service and dropped the bundle off at reception on my way in for breakfast.  While at breakfast I met a couple of other riders, Rob and Rob from New Zealand (...I know, right?!), and we chatted you a bit.  On my way back to the room I noticed that my laundry bundle was still at reception - it had been 1-1/2 hours since I dropped it off.  I pointed out this fact to the reception clerk who got on the phone seemingly to take care of this.  Back in my room the phone rang with the voice on the other end indicating someone was at my door who needed to talk to me... And no I don't know why they just didn't knock, heck there was a doorbell too.  It was the housekeeping manager informing me that they didn't have on premises laundry and couldn't actual provide the express service advertised... With a promise of a 2pm delivery I wandered around the Connaught Place neighborhood for a few hours before getting back to the hotel in time to watch the motorcycle race and introductory tour meeting.

As mentioned previously there had been rumours of significant travel delays and indeed there were.  6 people in all following 3 different itineraries had been effected to various degrees all with the common point of having Air India flights cancelled from Europe.  1 of the effected arrived just before the meeting started but without his luggage.  A group of 4 from Portugal were expected during the meeting and again without their luggage.  The last would be in time for dinner but he had his luggage.  Note to self - don't take Air India to India if you expect to get your luggage in a timely matter.

Monday morning we piled onto the bus a bit later than scheduled hoping that in that extra time the missing bags would show - but no such luck.  And then we headed north out of New Delhi headed to Shimla.  An uneventful 10-hour bus ride up into the Himalayan foothills.  As we started to climb it quickly became apparent that the foothills were a lot greener than down on the flats and that a lot of that green was hemp.  Yup, pot is growing everywhere up here - it literally is a weed.

Throughout the day conversations had been had with regards to the missing luggage and there was some suggestion that some if not all would be at the airport by the end of the day.  Once at the hotel it looked there was a chance that 2 bags had been picked up by a courier and were now heading up to where we were with the other 3 bags slated for delivery no later than at Manali day after next. 

We all went to sleep that knowing we would be riding the next day

Selfie Nation June 30 2018

So that whole resetting my internal clock thing, it wasn't happening today.  Along with the previously cancelled food tour I had also booked a day trip down to Agra to see the Taj Mahal.  As this was advertised as a sunrise tour an early departure was required - a 3am early departure. 

As promised the hire car was at the hotel to pick me up at 3am sharp.  And we were off through the calm and quiet streets... ya right, even at 3am there were moments of high insanity on the streets getting out of the city. 

Once out on the motorway though it was smooth sailing the 2-1/2 hours down to Agra.  As we got close to the city on one side of the road was the rising red ball of the rising sun while on the left the pale gray orb of the setting moon.  This peaceful scene accentuated with the hazy dew of the morning air plus a bunch of smoke from the very much active medieval brick ovens dotting the landscape.

Once into the city a quick stop was made to pickup the local guide and then off to the Taj Mahal.  Not having much in the way of expectations here I was fittingly impressed with the scale of the site - it is a lot bigger than what it looks like in pictures. 

In my short time here I've quickly noticed that Indians really like to experience and are very prideful of their history.  And that they really really like photographic proof that they really like to experience their history.  No exaggeration; I observed  a bushful sack full of selfie sticks being fully devored within minutes of the vendor emptying the contents from his back onto the ground.  And at all the historical locations I have visited there are swarms of "professional" photographers who for a price will gladly take your picture dramatically posed in front of that site's feature.  And then an even more dramatic pose, and then another but this time a little to the right, and one more but now look dreamily off into the distance...

After breakfast (included in the price of the tour) and a stop at the obligatory craft market (anyone need an inlayed black marble chess board) the tour ended at the Agra Fort.  Where the Red Fort was dissapointing the Agra Fort exceeded any expectations.  With some small remaments of past neglect the sense of past grandeur was mostly perserved.

Then it was back to the car for the 3-hour ride to the hotel where some of the other riders had begun to arrive.  And we receive word of several substantial incoming travel delays.

Acclimatizing June 29 2018

As I woke up Plan A for Friday had been cancelled via email claiming that the guide had fallen ill.  I had booked a mid-day walking and eating tour through Old Delhi and the Spice Market for my first steps though the city.  Read into this what you will but upon arrival the night before I had an email from the tour operator asking if I would mind changing my booking from Friday to Saturday.   He promised more food sampling opportunities as there were more people booked on the Saturday tour- implying that I was the only one booked for Friday.  With another commitment already for the Saturday I deferred asking to keep the original booking.   Which left me Friday morning with Plan B.  Actually there was no Plan B, just Google maps and a general need to go out and experience the city.

Given the opportunity I do like arriving a few days early to get acclimated.  Usually its just a need to reset my internal clock and get a sense of the place, but sometimes the weather needs adjusting to too such as here in New Delhi.  The Red Fort area seemed a likely contender so after securing a pocketful of Rupees (1 USD = 68.4561 INR) I chanced a ride on the local subway. 

Travelling the 3 stops (20 INR) on the clean modern marvel that is the New Delhi underground I entered the streets adjacent to Old Delhi neighborhood.  The acclimatizing commenced immediately through the sites and sounds but mostly the smell of the streets.

Navigating my way through the masses I found my into the fort.  Bit of a dissapointment as it was mostly roped off and inaccessible for what was claimed to be reconstruction but all I saw was a whole load of neglect and disrepair.  Regardless the park like setting was nice and the various palaces and other edifices were impressive enough.

Walking back in the general direction of the hotel I soon realized that as the whitest guy on the streets of New Delhi I must have appeared to be in in need of some extraordinary assistance.  While the population of the city as a whole were most friendly a particular cohort was also proving to be persistently helpful.  Constant ascertasions that I would be much better being delivered to my destination wherever it may be in the comfort of whatever mechanical or human powered contraption was being offered.  And that besides my ulitmate destination there were so many other places to go, especially shopping places.  And neither sidewalks nor opposite flowing traffic was an impediment to these offers of help that I so desperately needed according to the oh so helpful.

Amazingly I made it safely back to the hotel unaided where what was supposed to be a quick refreshing rest turned into a deep extended nap.  Needless to say, the time zone acclimatizing would not be dealt with today, or is that yesterday... maybe it's tomorrow already. 

Day Of The Long Nights. June 26 - June 28 2018

Note to self, sometimes just making a list isn't enough... sometimes it helps if you check it a time or two too.   Ya, even though it was written down several places; when I transferred the essentials into my minimalist travel wallet I forgot to grab my drivers license.  An issue that made it's self apparent when I checked into the Vancouver Airport hotel the night before my morning flight.  After one email back to the home office citing specific instructions on locating and international express shipping options and another to the tour operator explaining my situation I foolishly tried to sleep.  Part way through that failed experiment having run through a multitude of scenarios my phone announced the receipt of an email.  It was from the tour operator suggesting that this was not the end of the world and the digital copy I had should suffice. With a second email off to the home office with the stand down instructions a few hours of sleep were found. 

My flight to India involved a short layover in Toronto with the first flight departing Vancouver just after it's scheduled time of noon.  Which was unfortunate as the Brazil-Serbia match had just started when I had to leave the lounge and get to the gate.  Oh well, wasn't like it was something important like a Sounders-Timbers match #100. 

A short visit to the lounge at the international departures pier in Toronto was about all I was allowed before boarding started for the scheduled 10:30pm departure of the second leg.  The flight to New Delhi was originally cited as 13 hours and 50 minutes but as we sat at the gate that time oscillated from 12 hours and change to 15 hours on the seat back flight monitors.  Regardless, I was going to be leaving Toronto Wednesday night and landing in New Delhi Thursday night. 

Waking from a typical restless airplane "sleep" somewhere over Turkmenistan it appeared that we had made good time with a prospective arrival time some 30 minutes earlier than advertised.  And it all looked good right up to the point that we fly right by New Delhi and another hour was added to the flight time.  We then spent the next 20 minutes circling at an altitude of 5971m and then another 20 minutes in that same holding pattern at 3457m. We eventually straightened out and started through one of the slowest  descents I can remember being on. 

With the customs card filled in and visa in hand I dutifully got in line at the first class/business class booth.  Unfortunately it turned out that my electronically provisioned visa meant I was ineligible for this particular privilege of the ticket class and  I actually was supposed to have gone all the way down to the end of the arrivals lounge where my visa would be processed.   Signs would have helped - end of commentary.

After clearing immigration and picking up my bags the hotel shuttle driver was exactly where he was promised to be.  And for the next 45 minutes I got a small taste of New Delhi traffic... Of which I will have to rank right up there with Istanbul, Tehran, Lanzhou and Boston.

Thanks, Google... o(≧o≦)o

Seems like Google has decided to make using the tools of their's that I use damn near impossible to use on an iPad.  Seeing as all I have is an iPad and a phone there won't be much blogging or photo gallery updates on this trip through Ecuador.

I have set up an Instagram account under the alias lonnngways were I will try to post up some pictures along the way.

Here is the phone number and email to contact Google and complain if you are so inclined.

1-650-253-0000
support@google.com

Waiting For A Train.

Celebrating Jim's birthday with a fantastic meal is starting to turn into a thing.  Last year it was Shanghai, this year it was at Muncho Lake BC.   Once again the weather cleared and we had a great morning riding down through the northern Canadian Rockies.  

Once the mountains receded and we approached Alberta things got boring.  But we did find possibly the greatest cinnamon buns ever baked at the Testa River Lodge.  Leaving Fort St. John it seemed appropriate to take a run out the Peace River Valley past the Site C damn site.  It is an an extremely beautiful valley and a real shame that it is destined to be 50M under water in the near future.  Seeing it was Canada Day (July 1), a stop at a Canadian institution was warranted  (in Chetwynd of all places).

It was at this point that the group got separated.  No big deal, we have technology and cell phone connections.  The thing is that when you are sending email messages and satellite communications texts it helps if the other parties notice the new message blinking red LED on their phones and satellite communicators.  None the less our path crossed at a gas station in Grande Prairie and we all headed off to Route 40 and Hinton for the night.  "Hinton?", you ask.  Well if you ever looked up the price of a hotel room in Jasper over a holiday long weekend in the summer you'd understand.  The finale of this trip was a classic - down the Columbia Icefields Parkway from Jasper down to Lake Louise then across Yoho National Park and Rogers Pass to Revelstoke.

Our timing as we pulled into the parking lot at the Spiral Tunnels was impeccable;  the screaming brakes of a train coming down the hill filled the valley.  We took up our viewing positions and waited for the train. 

And sure enough the front of the train made itself around the bend and headed into the tunnel.

And a little later thst same front of the train appeared a little lower down the mountain at the tunnel exit.  The rest of the train was still snaking around the bend and into the tunnel entrance above.

One of my favourite restaurants in the world is in Revelstoke, so not to leave anything to chance I had made reservations a few days before.  And of course in the intermediate time I had had the taste of the superb Woolsey Creek Bistro's bison back ribs on my tongue - thankfully they weren't sold out when we took our seats.  In fact they had enough for five of the six of us.  And trust a Californian to find a local wine that none of the locals had ever heard of before but now intent on finding more of.  Our last morning together on this ride found us at a French boulangerie staffed by Australians in a small town in BC; where in the winter cold arctic air meets warm pacific air sucked up the Columbia River and dumps a crap ton of snow every year.  But all that snow only explains why the Australian are here.

It was here the group separated once again, this time on purpose.  Those of us that headed south had a great uncluttered ride down through the Kootenays on down to Wenatchee.

Those that headed over the Coquihalla thinking they were on that fast track home quickly found all that last day of the long weekend traffic heading hone at the same time.

Anyways, it was a great 10-days or so ride around BC with a great bunch of guys who for the most part only met up about a year ago in Istanbul.   There's still a bunch of BC that might be there later but I'm not planning on chancing anything.