Guru On September - 11 - 2007

Right inside there and functions vigorously after one the other not encumbered by dispatching the traffic. It did not astonish for repèrer dead – naked and believed with its intestines vulgarly exposed. And there were cows – they were particularly comfortable along NH8 in Goudjerate. I want to say that there are enough country and grass outside there – why them roads with the dispatching trucks? But nobody deal very with this and I would not have too. I continued goes up.The twilight had fallen, I were always a little Daman and the strong rain and the night are never good combination. In conclusion, I arrived at a station of gas close to Vapi, Goudjerate and obtained the assistance of a couple riders. Appear outside how to obtain in Daman, where to trail and in a paramount way where I can find one atmosphere (Rs.200 was not going to obtain a roof to me for harms). You must take a left in addition to Vapi for to enter the territory of the trade unions and this junction is worse than I saw. Under NH8 the overflight with what has seemed to be the principal intersection of Vapi, there are not no reverberator and with the strong rain you can to see a thing – then out of nowhere I of the cars of saw bourdonnant opposite direction. It is insane. Flickering my lights I maintained control towards left and were not astonished to find the windshields broken on this road. I finally reached the beach of Daman and of Devka – checked in a hotel Dariya Darshan called. Poured and gone through at the restaurant of rock of the sun and slackened with Haywards 5000 (why us let us not obtain this one in the city?) and some Hyderabadi Kabobs. The Gopal waiter told me its stories : how it had troubles with a girl of bar of dance in Mumbai and far in Daman ran six years ago, its tribulations with its wife whom it did not see since two years, how Orissa is a pleasant place, how his/her father on his bed of dead indicated the truth quintessencielle of the life: the mother will ask you “that it who is in your stomach? ”, the wife will ask you “it who is in your pocket? ”, how it projects to begin a restaurant, how the owner of rock of the sun passes alcohol in smuggling in value of million each only day and how I must save Rs.15 while agreeing to pay it instead of the restaurant 2nd beer.water was with the high tide. Along the coast one the largest gulf of India – the gulf would reach of Khambat and if you look far enough or of the top, there should be Diu (the child of same parents of Daman) of the other side. A drunk man of Baroda continued to shout until I would have moved back yourself of the rocks where waves broke their heat – it continued to say, “it is tide raised, it is high tide… that something can to produce”. I saw perhaps on the left a turned over boat – an iron mass, without monitoring during much years. Shells with snails of retreat with interior, of the everywhere round rocks, the huts selling alcohol, fishermen with the intersected, good strings emptying the vileness yesterday by water, dogs revolving with the idle and feeling after their potential companions (they are everywhere), ten years – olds playing in sand, tourists out-season – they all made their thing. And water made its thing – it continued to roll up against the ground with several recoveries and still with the given rigour. Awaiting my half-dry jeans, I to finally sat me behind on Bull close to midday – thanks to the machine, order was simply pleasant and far from monotony that a return offers. The clouds ensured another wet experiment of tee-shirt and I stopped with a dhaba completely drivers of truck and theirs heavy trucks. My crushed shoes as I have intervened; they wished me the welcome with their heat, knowing smiles and directed me to a bed of camp I have withdrawn my towel am dried to me and had the bhurji eggs, it channa dal, the roti and the hot wine storehouse with numbers vigorous of Bollywood playing in the content. Stomach-happy, I obtained on my Bull still. I have reached Mumbai with an asepticized head and calms évanescent – feeling the city, hearing its noises, feeling its heat even approximately 20 kms far.By observing my feet go down gently in sand coloured by chocolate on the beach of Devka and to be formed then around the timeless rocks formed by an Arab sea persistent, I knew why I did what I. The afternoon precedent, crossing tireless rain Bulleted of monsoon of I, dogs, turned over trucks, broken windshields rule-breakers of road and cows died with udders exposed to obtain with Daman, one of seven territories of the trade unions of India. Before this weekend I had not driven a motor bike or in India during 12 years. And much changed since. The roads are different; more occupied but more organized. My joints of knee and of neck continue to require my attention. I thus started with obvious agitations of going this go with one nobody unknown with my ball; lamp-shade or not, I have wanted to end up knowing my machine for sure. To finish to the top of an event of hiring to work I have pushed my time of departure approximately to 3.30PM Saturday afternoon. I spent approximately 3 minutes packing this morning: a towel, push rods, trunks swimming, a tee-shirt and have forgotten the majority of the EC what I could have need including/understanding the money of an atmosphere. I also took ball with the close temple on the 18th road (Khar) and made my proper version late length new-vehicle-adores. 5 years with one of fires of circulation sold lime to me and peppers to draw aside from the bad spirits (I noted that the lime-peppers combo made deals sharp in reason of the rain – which decides these markets?). Ahem! I have conduit by the road purposely Western nest of hen-solved to leave finally the suburbs of Mumbai – out of Borivali, out of Reflected Gaon, out of Virar… outside. It bruinait and my original plan was to obtain in Dahanu, one not for the beach at the remote end of the state of will maharashtra.A surprise jokes in front of the cabins of toll on NH8 is – they are free if you do not lead on 4 wheels. It has indicated on the left “the heavy subsistence of vehicles” and towards the left I kept. NH8, part of the subways principal of India connecting itself quadrilateral of gold, is one road smoothes which offers sometimes potholes to you of half-foot and of the sometimes flowered and well-maintained dividers. While I continued to enter a country more deep, the air became fresher and often I would take these deep satisfactory breaths which seem to give one jolt of O2 to the head. The colors were more luminous and happier – the green was greener – as the tight fresh painting of the tubes in pastel. During two hours in the order, my flexible tank needed deferment. I stopped with something the restaurant of Vittal Kamat called close to the manor (prounounced the manor rimant with the door) and slurped a fast idli-wada. I think that it was some share there I repèré a sign: Daman 100km – the good resounded name and me decided to lead to Daman instead of Dahanu. Leading above, the roads curved in Western Ghats which is developed a larger and larger rupture in these mysterious gray clouds. If you throw a glance on them long enough you could really repèrer the vapor rising out of the mountains and joining the clouds very enclosures of monsoon. And then it started to rain. A few minutes more late it started to pour. For some reason I do not have not really thought of the stop. I was wet already with intermittent showers. My head was sheltered with the helmet but my wet tee-shirt rolled up against my trunk with the fur and as dried to him, half of my jeans were a blue darker with water – my body did not seem to deal with the environment and neither one nor the other made ball. What is spectacular about the ball is sound nature-like the attitude – it makes its thing with the uniformity remarkable without much of respect to the rain, the nests of hen, with the curves, the sizes, the trucks and with animals. I wonder what is with the dogs on roads – particularly close to the cities. They hang The next morning, I soaked in the ex
tent with the beach with Devka – water, ground and sky.

Categories: Motorcycle Tour

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