The lady at the front desk said there'd be WIFI, but my iPad can't find a network and it should know. Oh we'll, I'm too tired to make a big deal out of it, so I'll just do without. I'm sitting in the empty restaurant of the New Haveli Hotel, waiting for my cheese pizza. I don't know, I just feel like pizza and it was on the menu.
I rode about 75 kilometers today to the dusty little village of ------- just 30 kilometers out of the Nepal town of Manendarangar. I have to get my Rupees changed in the morning before I cross the border, then, I'm good to go.
I hit some rough road today and my wheels really took a beating. I'm glad I spent the extra money to get the super tough models designed for bicycle polo.
As I go farther into northern India, the surroundings become more and more rural. Lots of wheat and rice being grown in this part of the world. Around noon, I got really sleepy so I pulled over under a big tree and laid down in the shade. There was a stiff wind blowing and it felt so good, almost like a massage. I fell asleep and when I awoke there were 5 or 6 Indian peasants standing around me. They pointed and giggled when I sat up and wanted to know all about my bicycle. It attracts a lot more attention than I do.
India is fascinating, frustrating, and even maddening at times. Certainly, the constant horn blowing out on the road is enough to drive a man to drink. They honk to signal that they're going to pass, that they're stopping, that they're going to swerve into your lane and they honk for no reason at all. The drivers are generally inconsiderate and would rather risk death in a fiery head-on collision than to take their foot off the gas for one second. In that way, I guess they're just like drivers all over the world. There's just a whole lot more of them in India.
PS I just had their pizza. It wasn't Pagliagi, that's for sure.