7th November 2008, Bikaner, Rajasthan, India

Andrew has asked me to dedicate this blog and all future blogs recording our journey across Asia, to the loving memory of Andrew's mother, Hazel Norris who is sorely missed by us both.



We left Pakistan last Saturday, 1st November and cycled over the border into India and to the nearby town of Amritsar. From Amritsar we headed into southern Punjab and towards the Rajasthan desert - 5 days of cycling in relative wilderness until we reached the desert town of Bikaner at lunchtime today.



05.11.08 - half way between Amritsar and Bikaner, India

Andrew has asked, in particular, that I write the diary today and to include in it 'everything - just how it was - and don't forgt all the good bits'. So today, of all days, I hope that I will be able to do him justice.



We set off from our den of a hotel room (where we had holed up for the night after a long and exhausting ride) for what we knew would be a long and hot day of at least 120km. First breakfast was just chai, but the lovely man refused payment and was clearly just pleased to give us his hospitality and wish us well on our journey. These regular gestures of generosity towards us give us so much pleasure and we always feel humbled by the giver. I personally also always ask myself whether we would be so good to a traveller back at home? I have vowed to try to be so and plan to pull alongside the ery next end-to-ender (cyclists doing Lands End - John o Groats) I see in Scotland and offer them a cup of sweet tea (from a flask that I will always take with me now when I travel up the A9, for just this occasion).



We made reasonable progress until we spotted a group of ladies picking cotton - it is cotton hardest season here now, just as it was as we passed through Souther Kyrgyzstan around 6 weeks ago - which just shows the difference in latitude and how far we have come! The most enormous loads of cotton are pulled in bulging carts by either tractors or camels. We wanted photos of the colourful cotton pickers, so we pulled up and I approached them. To my surprise and pleasure, the women squealed with delight to see me and with huge smiles came out of the fields and grabbed my hands with glee. Lots of laughter and excitement! They eagerly posed for a couple of stiff photos and loved seeing the images on the digital camera (we always show the picture taken to the person we have photographed). I stayed a little while and they invited us for chai - we had a long journey ahead, but this felt like one of those times that you should just stop and enjoy. So Andrew joined me and they sent an older man (their servant by all accounts) to gather some wood and make a small fire in the makeshift hearth they had on the edge of the field. A beautiful metal bowl was produced, a bottle milk, sugar and chai and the mother in the group assisted the preparation of chai. Meanwhile, Andrew went and got a packet of buscuits from our bags to contribute and I dived into the field to try my hand at cotton picking. By now, the women and firls (two in particular were beside themselves with excitement) had begun to relax and I was able to get some lovely photographs of them. We drank chai and had a jolly time with these lovely, colourful women. It was such a pleasure to be able to interact with them ad the receive such a warm and enthusiastic welcome (ed note: this is the overwhealming difference between India and Pakistan - women are everywhere and are very confident and friendly offering a stunning splash of colour wherever they go). We reluctantly left them to it to plough on with our journey, but that has been a real highlight for me.



We eventually reached the gorgeously named Ganganagar where we found a place to stop for samosa and cold drinks. We also tucked into some of the delicious sweeties that you find in this part of the world - glass-fronted counters fulled with trays of sugary-sweet morsels: some fudgy, some nutty, coconutty, sticky honey etc. Sweet tooth required, but we've been in training with all this sweet tea!



Back on the road, it was clear that without the all-important canal irrigation system in souther Punjab and now into Rajasthan, this area would simply be sand desert. As it is, we pass cotton fields, orange orchards (not quite ripe yet, sadly) and moer. But here and there the desert sneaks in and moer camels pass and we are grateful for any shade provided by the eucalyptus trees alongside the road.



We passed from Punjab into Rajasthan - a mile marker for us as this means we are now into proper, Indian desert, which we're very excited about. At a police check point we were pulled in, but only for the offer of chai, which we accepted on the basis that one doesn't refuse the police! They were a nice bunch though with limited English, and so after a cup of water and a cup of chai, we got back on the road, still with a daunting 50km to complete.



Very soon after, Andrew just happened to turn on his mobile as in Punjab he couldn't access any networks, so as there were masses of vodaphone adverts around in any tiny settlement through which we passed, he decided to try again in Rajasthan. Coincidentally we had also just passed 3 enormous mobile phone masts. His phone made connection and immediately notified him of a message and he called me back to join him in the shade of a tree. By the time I reached him, he was speaking to his brother David who had the terrible task of passing on the impossible news that their Mum, Hazel, passed away last weekend........



To be standing in a desert in Rajasthan, on a mobile phone, receiving such news was an horrific experience. There is no question in our minds and absolutely no hesitation - we will head back to the UK to help with the arrangements for the funeral, spend time with family and do whatever needs to be done in the aftermath. Equally, we will head back here in a couple of weeks or so to pick up where we have left off - we know for a fact that this is what Hazel would want us to do. Hazel, like Grandpa, took a huge amount of pleasure in our adventure - in reading about it and seeing the photos. Hazel also thought we were crazy, but brave and she was proud of our adventurous spirit. Hazel had fought a brave brave battle with cancer for over five years. In that time she stoically held onto her independence and was determined to fight to live as long as possible. She was particularly pleased to have been able to travel during this time and see such wonders as Russia, China and New Zealand. She also discovered, to her own surprise, a genuine and deep-felt delight at becoming a grandmother to Phoebe and William and she was excited, if possible bewildered, at the prospect of twins joining them.



Hazel died peacefully in her sleep, in her own home, sat in her favourite chair, having tucked into one of her much-loved chocolates that evening.



Five minutes along the road, as Andrew and I got back onto our bikes in a daze, needing to reach the next town before dark, we passed a sign beside the road that read 'Life is precious, do not waste it". Ain't that the truth...............................