Author: John Massey

I am walking again and today I hope to walk 15km just to get me back into things. I know I will need to increase this distance, but after 3 days of blister problems, I want to ease my way back into things slowly.

I followed the road and passed through a small town. It is 6.00am and everyone is awake and walking. People are smiling and waving at me as I pass by. I find myself following a lady herding donkeys, and because of my sore feet, I struggle to keep up with her pace. After leaving the town, I see donkeys being milked and the milk is for sale. I give it a miss.

I reached the Godavari River and it looked a lot larger in width since I had last seen it a few days ago. I stared at it. I felt a bit sad as I had planned to follow this river along its banks all the way. However, due to safety reasons (mainly leopards living near the water!), I realised that being so remote, this was not possible. So I follow it whenever it is safe enough to do so.

I looked further down the river and I saw someone kayaking, which really surprised me. People are poor here, no one has time for leisure. Any spare moment is taken up by trying to provide food and shelter.

I moved onto a small bridge that crosses the river, hoping this would give me a better view down river. On closer inspection, I saw a man walking a donkey onto the river bank. There seemed to be a large pit dug into the mud (or sand) of the riverbank. He pulled the donkey by a rope and tried to get it to go down the pit, the donkey was having none of it. Stubborn burro, I was thinking, with a touch of Spanish.

I then started to think about what Satis, the millionaire, had told me; that people eat donkey here. I thought the worst. Was this guy pulling this donkey into the pit to kill it and sell the meat? Surely not. I stood watching from the bridge, hoping I was wrong. And soon another donkey was pulled into the pit. I guess it was just a place to get them out of the sun.

I was just thinking about taking some more photos when two trucks, coming from opposite directions, looked like they would pass each other right where I was standing. I breathed in and leant over the bridge to avoid being hit; one truck just clipped my rucksack. That was close, I thought, then the whole bridge started to wobble. When the trucks had passed, I ran off the bridge to the safety of the road. Indian engineering has never been the same since us Britishers left!

Finally, I reached the hotel I was going to stay in. I had walked 15 km and it had taken me all morning. I knew I would have to increase the distance if I wanted to get across this massive country. Before I tried to check in, I sat at a little shack-come restaurant at the side of the road, (there are lots of them everywhere). I ordered my usual 1 litre of water cold water or thanda paanee (ठंडा पानी) as they say around here.

A guy entered the restaurant, saw me and came over to speak English. We talked in broken English and then it was time for me to get out my golden ticket. This is an English sentence, translated into Hindi, on a laminated piece of paper that was written by one of the teachers in the slum school. This sentence explains my mission. She said it would help and it certainly has.

People really can’t understand why I am walking. People stop on the road and offer me lift.  I refuse. One guy said ‘why are you walking, sir? India has a perfectly good transport system’.

Another guy asked ‘where is your vehicle? If you come from England, surely you can afford a bike?’

Anyway, the golden ticket was passed around the restaurant. This guy then bought me lunch. His name was Rushikesh. Later, the owner of the restaurant gave me tea and a cream horn. It is their way of giving to the charities I am supporting. It is amazing how wonderful these people are. It makes me cry and also makes me realise that most people in this world are good.

Checked into the hotel and went to sleep early – walking again in the morning.

 

 So after yet another massive 26 km walk, the blisters on my feet had won the day. I reached a hotel and never in my life had I needed a hotel as much. I had to stop, my feet were no longer allowing me to continue. Reaching the hotel, I would have taken any room, whatever it was like, whatever the price. I checked in and followed the attendant to my chosen room. Unluckily for me, it was nearly a 5 minute walk to the room and on the top floor. Oh no, I thought, couldn’t I just have this room near the reception?

I needed to get my boots off and investigate the damage. Four massive blisters. I was expecting this to happen, but not so soon into the trip. My biggest worry was that one looked infected. After advice from back home, I decided they needed treating, and the sterilised needle I was carrying needed to be used. So Doctor John went to work, and as you can just imagine, it was just a little bit painful. I wasn’t stupid and I knew this would mean walking any large distance in the next few days would be impossible.

I never been a person that can just sit and wait for things to get better, so I decided I would do some sight-seeing.  I couldn’t stay cooped up in my room, waiting for my blisters to heal. But even strolling around looking at temples was painful, and really I wasn’t that interested. I was here to walk and walk seriously.

I hobbled out of the small town I was staying in, called Shriampur, and walked through a small community, with water buffaloes living around, and sometimes in, the people’s houses. The people were friendly and soon I had a crowd following me. [Shrimapur is city and a municipal council in Ahmednagar district situated in western Maharashtra].

It was selfie time and I am not joking when I say that I must have had 40 selfies in a half an hour. It seems only the young guys have mobiles that are capable of taking selfies and phones were passed around through the crowd.

With all this attention, I took the opportunity to ask where the local school was.

I walked down several alleys and found my first school. I was invited in and was shocked how small the classroom was. The children were still using slate boards; no pens, no paper, no desks, and no chairs. I sat with the children for a bit and tried to help them with their work. Only maths seemed the way forward. No one spoke any English.

 

I left the school and made my way back to the hotel for something to eat. This is when I met Satis.

I walked into a restaurant and looked around. Everyone stopped and looked up. A white person here was rarer than pure gold. That line from Sting’s English Man in New York song came to mind: ‘I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien’. But this certainly wasn’t New York! Then a guy said in English ‘please sit here’. Wow, someone that can speak English. I joined him and he told me his name is Satis.

I looked at the menu.

What would you order?

Within seconds, the guy started talking in broken English and there was no stopping him. First, he named all the counties in England: Derbyshire, Lancashire, Somerset etc… Then he started naming all the English cricket players from years past: Vaughan, Gough, Botham etc. I just looked at him and asked what he was eating and ordered the same. He then said ‘could you offer me a soft drink?’

I said ‘it doesn’t work like that’, but I bought him a Sprite anyway.

He then asked me so many question about England – I can’t remember them all – but the strangest was what brands of ice cream do you get in England?

We exchanged numbers, and I thought ‘what an unusual guy’. I said goodbye and hit the hotel for sleep. Later, Satis phoned me. I explained I needed to sleep as I was walking tomorrow.

The next morning, on further examination, I decided the blisters were so bad that I needed to rest up for another day. I also realised that the blister I was worrying about wasn’t infected, but I still wasn’t up to walking. So I paid for another night’s accommodation.

I was bored and a bit down. Were these blisters going to get any better and allow me to carry on my mission?

In the evening, Satis phoned again and was over-joyed that I was still in his town. I met him in the evening and the same list of names and question were fired at me. After another meal and me buying him more Spite, he asked if I would like to jump on his bike and see his church and some other churches in the area. Not really, I thought, but how could I say no, I wanted an early night, but yet again found myself on the back of a motor bike. First the Catholic Church.

Here I met the priest who blessed me and my journey. We then went on to Satis’ church and were surrounded, yet again, by people who wanted to see a white man.

He was persistent and kept riding around town, pointing out all the churches. He thought that me being an English man, we had something in common and that was churches. He is a good guy.

We returned to the hotel and I bought him a snack and a cup of chai this time. He started the questions and lists again. I thought this was really strange.

He then told his me his secret: he had been on India’s version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire and he’d won a crore! [A crore is ten million rupees (or one hundred lacs)]. That’s around £107,700.00 to us.

The money was in the bank and he was going to use it to travel to England. The penny suddenly dropped for me; that’s why he knew so many lists of names, and never stopped asking general knowledge questions.

We parted, back to walking tomorrow. As I walked back to my hotel, I asked myself why, if he has just won that amount of money on Who Wants to be a Millionaire, was I the one buying the Sprites?

 

So back on the road again.  I decided to wear my trainers today, as a few blisters had started to surface. More dog problems and the walking sticks to the rescue again. After walking for about 4 hours, it was time to stop and check on the feet. Over the next however many days, I have a feeling that me and my feet will be seeing a lot of each other. Plasters, Vaseline and talcum powder are my new best friends.

A restaurant came into view; well a hut with some seats and this is where I stopped. I managed to be understood in Hindi and bought 2 litres of water. Tending to my feet, being watch by 30 men, wondering why a white man with a pink hat and blue hiking sticks is passing their neighbourhood. This is where I met Prakash.

He asked me where I was going and why and I told him. He was the first person who really understood my quest and the reasons for it. He looked at Google maps and when I said where I was going, he told me it was the wrong route. I explained but said I can’t go direct and I can’t follow the river all the way because of the lack of accommodation. He took my number and said he would find somewhere for me to stay. I thanked him and was on my way. I couldn’t hang around. Walking past midday is dangerous, with temperatures reaching +43^o C. I have to walk fast and start in the dark to complete 25kms to 30kms in a day.

 

After a 3 hours plus walk, I reached a junction; not too far to the hotel now. Feet were killing me; blisters had certainly started. Then Prakash phoned.

‘John stay where you; are you can stay on my sister in law’s farm’.

Really I am thinking. But just as I start drinking my 6 litres of water, a guy arrived on a motorbike and told me to jump on. Another motor bike. That’s 3 different bikes I have been on in two days. He told me his name was Tushar. He drove me miles off the road and we finally arrived at a farm.

It was massive with all sorts of crops – grain, sugar cane, you name it. I got off the bike and met all his family: wife, two children and both parents. They were a bit shocked, but after a while they realised I was just an ordinary, mad English guy, lost and on a mission. First, a shower then I was shown my room. My luck had changed, but my feet were absolutely killing me.

The mother cut me some fresh aloe vera from the farm and got me water.

I was treated like a real guest. Then I played with the children.

Deepali made me lunch and served it while I just sat there, resting my feet. Tushar returned and we spoke broken English and Hindi to try and understand, but I was so grateful for these complete strangers helping me. And it doesn’t matter how you communicate, if both parties want to, you can get by. What wonderful people. I was then sitting, writing this blog (which is all I do any spare moment that I have got), when all of a sudden everyone, including the two young children, started to panic and run around. Rain was coming.

I went outside and saw the whole family trying to get the grain that was drying outside under cover. I was here to help, but Tushar told me to sit down. No way and for the next 15 minutes, we all worked like slaves to get the grain into big sacks and into the dry. They couldn’t believe I was helping, but I didn’t see it as strange and even though I was hobbling due to my blisters, I enjoyed it.

We had just finished getting all of it in the dry and the heavens opened up. These farmers know how to read the clouds.

Then we picked some sugar cane for a drink;  green sugar drink is what they called it. After that, tour of the farm while dinner was being prepared. It was the most relaxed and quietest place I have been to whilst I have been living in India.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the evening, Prakash and his daughter came over for tea and again the ladies did all the work, while us men just sat down and were waited on hand and foot.  No further comment on this situation, otherwise my wife (the ‘editor’) would not let it go to press!

So under the mozzie net that Tushar had put up for me I lay on the bed in a stranger’s house on a farm, with a guy lying on the floor next to me. Wow! I was thinking. Lights went out, and just before I was about to drift off to sleep, Prakash said:

‘John. just a warning.  If you need the toilet in the night, don’t go outside’.

‘Why?’

‘Because there are leopards’.

Really? Robert my driver on Day 1 had warned me about them, but I hadn’t really thought much more about it.

Then Prakash said ‘if I was in your country you would expect me to listen to you, wouldn’t you’?

‘Yes.’

‘Well, my friend, you are in my country, so please take my advice’.

‘Of course’.

‘Oh, and that tent. Don’t use it’.

I replied ‘it’s already gone’, and that was the moment my load got lighter and worries of being alive vanished. I will leave it here so the young children can play with it.

Neil Diamond once sung in a song with the line: ‘A friend is someone you need’.

So Day 2 starts and what a day it was.

It was my first day of proper walking and I knew it was going to be hard; that would be putting it mildly.  I had a 29 Km walk ahead of me.

My first big mistake – I over slept. I had planned to get up at 4:30 every day; one hour to get ready, on the road by 5:30. The heat was a big problem and I had planned to do all my walking in the morning, before the sun gets too hot. The temperature can reach 43 degrees and I didn’t want to be walking in that.  As I started, after being attacked yesterday by a monkey, I was very cautious of any animal that came near me. And at this early hour of the morning, dogs are a real problem.  Again, the walking sticks came in useful for fending them off.

So, on the road I was.  I knew that I couldn’t follow the river all the way; it was just too remote. It’s amazing, though, what you can see just walking along a road in the middle of India.

I stopped for breakfast. God only knows what I ate, but it was enough to keep me going.

After a full days walking, I managed to get to Nashik.  It was bigger and dirtier than I expected. I arrived at some hotel called Ahmed Lodge, cheap, but all I needed to do was sleep. I had a rucksack problem that had to be sorted.  Firstly, I had to lighten my carrying load; secondly the rucksack had split. I also lost my sunglasses and my sleep sheet during the walk – it was a good day.

The guest house I was staying at was also a dairy.

 

So it was a full-on place. The owner, a great guy called Asif, helped me and as soon as I checked in, he got me on the back of his bike to get the rucksack repaired.

 

 

I bought some bananas for my dinner and had every intention of having an early night. I had a 26 Km hike ahead of me tomorrow.

Then there was the inevitable Indian power cut, so I went down stairs to investigate. I saw Asif busy serving milk into plastic bags (so much for the ban on plastic in India, I thought!).  Then a guy started talking to me about how good India was during Victoria’s reign. Before I knew it, I was on the back of his bike, off exploring.  Turns out he owns vineyards and hotels in the area. I tried to resist, but he wanted to get me dinner at one of the hotels he owns. So within one hour I had been on two motor bikes. I am walking India in the morning and seeing how many vehicles I can get on at night. So, we just walked into his restaurant, the food was ordered and his friend joined us. What a lovely guy. Kausar was his name, but to me he was like Al Pacino.  True to his word, after the dinner, we just walked out of the restaurant.  It seemed funny having no bill to worry about.  Then, back on the bike and back to my hotel.

Al  said we’d only be a hour and we were. I thanked him, went into the hotel and straight to bed.