A frustrating week of visa applications and waiting. Oh the waiting. Oh how I hate it!
Having given up on a Pakistani visa when the embassy in Kathmandu told us it would be a 6 week wait, I was pleasantly surprised to be told by the embassy in Delhi that I could apply on Friday, have an interview on Monday and collect my visa on Tuesday. So, I applied on Friday and rode down to Agra to meet up with Torb again after his two week trek to the Everest Base Camp.

Managed to get kicked out of the Red Fort for “accidentally” climbing through a window and ending up in a restricted area.

If only we could have found a secret tunnel to make our escape! While wandering the narrow hallways and staircases of the upper levels of the fort I made a video of the little adventure. But in fear of being overthrown by the guards and imprisoned within the fort for the rest of my days, where I could but gaze at the Taj Mahal through my cell window, I had to sneakily delete the video before our escort got us down to the main security office. If the head of security discovered that our accidental visit was perhaps-maybe-possibly not entirely accidental then our standard defense of being “dumb tourists” probably wouldn't have worked as well for us. Anyways, poor old Torb was really in the wars this day – he also got kicked into a large pit in a courtyard of the fort.

Note background of the above photo where the guy is having a photo taking “holding the Taj” through the walls of the fort.

Saw the Taj from the north shore of the river

and from inside the grounds

And from the eastern side. etc.

We were the first ones in the gates at 5:30am-ish and we rushed to try and get some photos with no-one else in them. With no particular success.

Get out of the way of the Taj!

Torb offered me 4000 Rupees ($100) to run up the waterway as far as I could get before the guards stopped me. But I'm not a silly human. I don't do silly things. I'm wise and sensible. I know when things are getting out of hand... But for $100...no don't worry, I didn't do it. “Or did I?” (quote un-quote Ayton). At the moment I am considering whether or not to bite the head off a cockroach for 2000 Rupees... I'll keep you posted!

Next day was a visit to Fahtepur Sikri, 41km west of Agra, where a 54 meter tall gate (you got tall friends or something?) at the top of a huge flight of stares marks the entrance to a 440 year old mosque. This place (the gate especially) was well worth the visit – almost as impressive as the Taj to me – just not famous.

Here that guy that I travel with took a full tour from a guy who had greeted us at the entrance to the mosque claiming that he was “not a guide”, he just worked at the mosque. This lead to a funny conversation afterwards when Torb refused to pay anything because “You started by telling me you were not a guide!”. “I am not a guide, but same like guiding. Guiding same like this. Same work.”. This was a conversation I was happy to stand back from and just take video footage. (If you're work is “same like guiding”, then you're a guide. Just say you're a guide and we will tell you we don't want a guide and you will have saved yourself half an hour of work.

Now, back to Delhi. Pakistan visa has been a drainer. I turned up at 9:30am on Monday for my interview but was made to wait for 3 hours because the relevant person was “in a meeting”. At 12:30 I was told to come back at 4pm and that they would give me visa on the spot rather than making me wait until Tuesday. At 4pm the guard at reception had no idea what we (the other applicants and I) were talking about but we eventually got inside to be told that “the consular officer is in Islamabad, we will fax your application and be able to give you your visa on Wednesday or Thursday. Today is Saturday and it sounds like we're waiting for the guy to return from Islamabad rather than for him to just fax the authority. I wish I had skipped Pakistan. Maybe I will eat my words when I finally get there, but at the moment that's how I feel. A blog cannot be all rainbows and butterflies. Can it?

Being in Delhi is killing me because I feel like I'm using up precious time in which I could be seeing so much! Staying in Paharganj, Delhi, there is a serious lack of places to just hang out and the whole area is even more of a mess than usual since a few days ago when the government bulldozers came through the main bazaar (market) to “widen the street” as part of the city wide “improvements” “in time” for the Commonwealth Games.

Apparently the shopkeepers had been warned that the 'dozers were coming and many of the buildings had been illegally creeping further forward than they had permission for, over a period of 60 years. But it wasn't until the big machines actually turned up that people realised they were actually going to have to do something about it.

On either side of the road buildings had to be cut back 1-2 meters and if the owners didn't do it themselves then the machines would come and leave a very uneven cut, destroying anything in their paths. To start with it looked like there could be riots on the street as some influential shopkeepers attempted to rally their neighbours into defending their shops, but they were no match for 35+ baton wielding police and two caged mechanical monsters. I stepped behind a police car to avoid the stampede that came when everyone ran in fear from the police.

So, suddenly realising that the government meant business EVERYBODY started frantically working to move their stock out of the way, unbolt the roller doors and get anything of value out of the path of destruction.

Safety measures have been minimal as people have been chiseling and hammering away at walls and floors to get their buildings cut back to the right size before the bulldozer gets to them.

Walking the streets has been a hazardous affair, constantly stepping over broken glass, piles of bricks and wooden beams with nails sticking out, etc. And if that wasn't hazardous enough, one night a drunk man decided that I had hit him in the head with a brick earlier in the day so he grabbed my by the throat, lifted a brick above his head and gave me the death stare. I thought it was the end, but I managed to get a passerby to calm the guy down. It's just a pity I can't avoid this street filled with broken bricks which can be used as ammunition :(

I wonder, if a couple of Australians were attacked in India, would Australians conclude that all Indians hate all Australians? Or is it just all Indians that think that all Australians torture all Indians? “Why do all Australians hate Indians?” I have been asked numerous times on this trip. “Why do your people torture my people?”, “Why do you hate us?”. Take it easy, do your research, and stop throwing bricks at me. Thanks.

OK. Really time to get out of India. Goodbye.

A NOTE ON MOTORBIKES
We sold our Royal Enfiled Thunderbirds at the motorbike market of Karol Bagh, for half the price we paid for them, after adding 12524km to the clock. This was a bit disappointing as they were still in quite good condition, but we couldn't make contact with any tourists to sell to so had to sell to a dealer. Which breaks my heart :(

The Thunderbird was a strong bike which could handle the occasional scrape or bump without causing major damage and which averaged 30km/litre on fuel.
Seating position was comfortable enough for 400km+ days.
The electric start broke on both bikes and mechanics told us that this is a very common fault on the Thunderbird, though kick-starting removed any reliance on a battery.
The center stand often scrapes on the ground during cornering
Both bikes used a fair bit of oil, but I imagine this would be the case with many bikes.
The only reason I would not choose this bike if I were to travel around India again is that parts are not as easily available as for the Bullet range. Otherwise this is a good solid bike.