Border Running

Tuesday 7^th April 2015

Today we were up early at 6.40am as we had to do a round trip to the boarder to get some new tax for the bike. By the time we set off it was close to 7.30am all we had with us was a few things in case it got dark and we had to spend the night somewhere. We cruised through the empty streets which were awash with police in riot gear. I’m not sure exactly what was going on but it seemed there was a nationwide strike and everything seemed to be shut most worrying was that the petrol stations were closed and armed by policemen in full riot regalia.

We drove through town for a bit and found a petrol station where the gate was open we drove in and pleaded with the young guy there that we needed to get to the boarder he kindly filled up the tank for us and wished us well.

There are two roads to the boarder one is 70km and the other 120km both over the mountains. Mark had been chatting to some people who said the 70km road was good (he had come in on the 120km road so knew it was good) we trusted what they said and headed for the shorter road. It soon became clear that it was more of a hiking trail than a road, it wasn’t paved (except for a short section about four metres long) and in patches was bogged down with slippery mud, the incline was ridiculous and more than once the bike got stuck on rocks where I had to jump off.

We hadn’t gone far when it became evident the road wasn’t going to improve and so we sacked off that idea and turned around. If I thought going up was scary going down was a whole new nightmare along with the terrifying incline the road was riddled with hairpin bends and we were already pretty high up to begin with.

Back on the main road we headed towards the 120km road but had wasted precious daylight by the time we turned off onto the mountain pass it was already 9.30am. The drive was absolutely stunning we were soon on level with the clouds looking down over terraced fields, houses and lush greenery. For a while the road wound round and round the mountain before finally starting to go up higher and higher in a series of hairpin bends.

Thankfully (probably due to the strike) the roads were empty and all day the only traffic we encountered was one truck and a few motorbikes. We seemed to climb upwards forever before dropping down for a short while before going up again. On the top we passed a viewpoint where in the distance we could see the snowy peaks of Mount Everest.

Despite being beautiful the road was scary as we were so high up but it was in pretty good condition with only a few pot holes here and there. The only other thing we had to worry about was the freaky mountain dogs who chased the bike in packs a few times I thought we were sure to hit one as they snapped at the wheels and our legs.

The way down was much longer as the border sits at a lower altitude than Kathmandu. At one point we whipped around a corner and were nearly decapitated by a wire strung across the road it looked as though a power line or something had fallen. Thankfully it had been moved by the time we headed back.

Around 12.30pm we stopped in Hetauda a town about an hour away from the border like Kathmandu everything appeared closed but we found a little restaurant and got veg curry and roti for the bargain price of 125 rupees for both of us (less than NZD $2)

We continued on to Birgunj which is where the border is it took about an hour and we were able to get some speed up since we were out of the mountains and it was a relatively straight (if not bumpy) road. We pulled up to the customs house where we pulled a bit of a swifty pretending the bike had just been dropped at the border and that we needed to tax it. The customs agent made a song and dance about it all the while filling in the form he knew it was a lie we knew he knew it was a lie but really he was always going to give us the paperwork so he could receive his commission.

At one stage a very official looking man started to ask me questions but I pretended I didn’t speak English and when his phone rang I walked away and hid.

Once the bit of paper was in our hands we got out of there as quickly as possible before anyone could change their minds. It was time to start the long journey back over the mountain to Kathmandu all the while chasing daylight.

It had taken us three hours to get over the mountain and a further hour to get to the boarder we figured going back would take longer as we had come down pretty quickly but there was no way we would be able to drive up at that speed.

On the way back our arses were beginning to get quite sore and my thigh was already bruised as every time we hit a bump I came down on the luggage rack. With so many corners to contend with I was forced to hold on for once which merely stopped me from falling off I was still thrown around a fair bit and more than once my foot dragged along the ground as we rounded a steep hairpin bend.

We stopped for a break just after we started making the decent on the far side of the mountain feeling like we were making good time but from there downwards the road started to feel never ending. We hit a plateau and drove on reasonably flat ground for a while and then we started down again but again it seemed to plateau and we were just going round and round the mountain without really seeming to be going down.

By this stage my butt was well and truly over the day and it was starting to get dark. Add to this that the strike seemed to be over as for the first time all day the road started to fill up with trucks and it was all becoming a bit of a nightmare. There were three guys all on a motorbike with no helmets wearing jandals who seemed to be intent on killing themselves or others weaving in and out of trucks and pulling some dick moves but luckily we lost them along the way.

We reached the main road just as darkness was really falling which was a relief as it was a much wider smoother road but the drop was still terrifying and it was hugely busy with trucks and buses in both directions from here it was about 20km until we reached the city and just when I had given up hope of ever getting there we rounded a corner and could see the lights of the city spread out before us.

We made it back to the guesthouse where I could barely get off the bike my hips were absolutely ruined from trying to hold on all day coupled with all the bruises and the general arse ache I could hardly make it up the stairs to our room.

We washed away he grime of the day (which was much less than usual thanks to the helmet and my buff which covered most of my face) and headed out for food we perked up a bit after eating but still crashed out petty early.

Although it was a nightmare that we wasted two hours and scared ourselves shitless on the first crappy road I defiantly think everything happens for a reason and that we had to go that way in order for us to reach the boarder to be served by the customs agent who cared more about his commission than really following the rules. Had we gone on the smooth road first I think we would have encountered a stickler for the rules and been sent back with no tax. So although it was an annoyance I’m thankful for it.

My magic eight ball helmet