Beep Beep. Beep Beep. The hands of the clock pointed to 5 and 3. I woke up, decided not to press snooze again, grabbed my tooth brush and paste and walked along the corridor to the basin. Along the way, I woke up two of my friends, Anupam and Sriram, who were to join me in a bicycle ride to Mahabalipuram.
Anupam had a racing bicycle which he bought for Rs. 400 from a repair shop. Sriram had a 6 year old bike and I borrowed a 4 year old one from a friend. We packed a set of extra clothes, a towel and some water in each of our backpacks and left our campus at exactly 6 am. The morning freshness, cool weather and empty roads buoyed up our spirits and we pedaled at good speed for an hour. At 7 am we had crossed the toll gate on the ECR roar and upon Pam's suggestion, stopped for breakfast at one of those little cafes which were just opening up for the day. After we had our fill of Idlies and Vadas and coffee, we resumed cycling with fresh "re-fuelled" determination to complete the remaining 3 quarters of the journey in 2 hours. But the sun was no more concealed behind the horizon, people were no more tucked in their beds and vehicles no more in their sheds. But, none of this was even of the slightest concern to us, as we got on to our cycles and steered forth. I put some music on and started pedaling, but 10 minutes at the task and I shouted "Macha, Pam, Wait. My chain is gone".
"Dude, it is really gone!" came back Pam's reply. And when I looked down, the inevitable was staring at me. The chain wasn't even present in the grove - it had fallen some 100 meters behind.
8 in the morning, in a village where the lone cycle shop was yet to resume its business, we decided to "pull" one of us until the next village.
This is what I mean by it. I was pulling Pam, who was sitting on the chain-less cycle.
Sriram managed to click another pic where a Lamborghini flew right past us. Not often do you get to see Lamborghinis in India, much less often with you riding on a cycle pulling another along.We did this for about 10kms, ( This is much easier than you might think - 20% more effort in steady state ) until we found a truck repair shop. He agreed to repair our cycle and when I parked my cycle the tube burst. Sriram managed to convince a chap with a bike to return to a neighbouring village to get a new chain, tube and tyre. Some 2 hours later, we fixed the cycle continued to Mahabs. On our way we stopped at an awesome beach and swam the waters for an hour or so. I actually went quite deep, where obviously waves had stopped breaking. I saw, or thought I saw, a snake, got really scared and started making my way back to the shallows. Took me 20 minutes to get back. Now that I know that all sea snakes are poisonous, I'll never venture deep into the seas.
Anyway, after an hour we hit the streets again, reached Mahabs in another hour ( 1.00 pm ) had lunch in a restaurant, took some pics of very old monuments, as proof, that we went there, and then got into a compound wall full of ancient temples. Just when we were having an argument about the uselessness of guides, a chap approached us and offered his guide services for a hundred bucks or so. Despite my repeated "No"s Pam and Sriram decided to hire him. Lolers. The bugger couldn't speak in English, and Sriram took upon the job of translating boring historical crap, most of which sounded made-up, into English. The guide seemed to want to continue in English. I gave up, found my self a seat under a shade and let my mind drift off.
Later, when their tour ended, Pam came loling to me and said that this tour was the guide's first one ever, that he was still undergoing training. I didn't say "I told you not to entertain him". I knew Pam was happy to.
At about 3.30, we decided to return, and when we started cycling, Pam found his cycle's rear wheel tube punctured. Luckily we were still in the town and could get it repaired without hassles.
We returned to the beach, bought a water-melon, ate it, and when the sun went down, eagerly got on our cycles to return to the comfort of our rooms. But today, things were not going to happen straight. Pam's cycle again refused to cooperate. The tube gave way again and was drained of any air. We took it to another truck repair shop, who reluctantly agreed to help us out. It turned out that the puncture patch was improperly applied, and was leaking. An hour later, he fixed it, and when we were on our way back ( near Mayajaal ), his tyre simple burst. The truck repair guy, used to filling air in large tyres, filled more air than the thin cycle tyre could bear. Pam gave up, hired an auto and left. It was perhaps 8.30 in the night. Sriram and me did some fast cycling, our asses not accustomed to 12 hours of sitting on horribly-designed cycle seats. So we cycled fast, and reached our hostels by 10 in the night. A very long day it was, indeed.
Looking back at it, this is one of the most boring things I've ever written :P
Maybe I should delete this. Yeah?
