What’s it like to cycle in India? Part 4

Roads and Traffic

The highways in India generally make for fast cycling; they’re smooth, wide, and flat. And, notwithstanding the horns, there’s enough space for everyone. They’re everything you could want for easily covering ground on a cycle tour.

The roads in cities are another matter. The afternoon Dev and I arrived in Agra is etched in my memory. We came off the highway and found ourselves in a narrow street. Shops spilled out onto the road: there were bright marigold garlands, red draperies, food stalls, sweet shops, clothing stands, ironware and pharmacies. People wandered between the shops, men on hand-powered wheelchair bicycles hugged the side of the road and cows munched contentedly in the centre of the street.

Try weaving your way through this

In traffic, my both hands were constantly occupied on the handlebars: braking for a slowing car, changing gears, threading our way between potholes, keeping the balance through twenty different adjustments in pressure on the handlebars. My eyes were scanning the road ahead: vehicles, people, potholes, signs, animals. And my legs worked with Dev’s to supply power at the right points: a shout for a burst here, or a quick back pedal to reset there. Dev responded brilliantly and we pedalled as one.  

A tuktuk in front of us had decided to stop, and coming the other way were an assortment of motorbikes, hand-drawn carts, cars, and cows. Starting from standing is always an unsteady affair on the tandem, but in this situation there was no room for error. Wobble to the left and we would crash into the tuktuk. Wobble to the right and we might accidently hurt one of India’s holy animals (“there are 10 million gods inside a single cow,” Dev told me). No pressure then.

“Three, two, one, go!” We pushed off and Dev supplied power from the back, sending us forward and balanced. Tweaking the handlebars, I slotted us between the horns and the outstretched hand of the tuktuk driver and we cleared the gap. Success! One minor hurdle negotiated – but there would be a hundred more before we arrived at our destination.

Such as the potholes. Most roads would be fine, and then we would come across a stretch of road that had last been paved by the British, and they clearly hadn’t done a great job. There would be a few patches of tarmac, like a blotchy rash, and I would do my best to chart the smoothest lines between the asphalt. It was a game you could play but never win. No matter if you avoid one crater, you always ended up running into a boulder, lurching the bike high, making the back seat very uncomfortable for Dev. I hoped he’d still be able to have children at the end of it. If we were lucky we would have a bumpy time but get out the other side unscathed. If I botched it, then we came to an abrupt halt in one of the holes and Dev would have to wave back the impatient traffic behind us as we reversed out.

The weird and wonderful traffic we encountered

Even if we negotiated the traffic and potholes, we still had to know where we were going. In the cities, Dev and I operated like a rally team. Dev was the co-pilot, checking google maps, and calling out directions as shouts, music and horns (have I mentioned those?) erupted from all around us.

“It’s right!”

“What?”

“It’s RIGHT!”

“This one?”

“Which one?”

“This one?”

“Right HERE!”

I would turn sharply, usually cutting across a motorcycle (cue: loud horn), and we would plunge down another street. On the whole, this worked remarkably well and with a few detours Dev guided us successfully to our accommodation in Agra. Without him I’d still be there, simultaneously trying to navigate on my phone, braking, pedalling and avoiding the chaotic melee.

Closing thoughts

More so than perhaps any other country, cycling in India is not for the faint-of-heart. Requiring the bravery of a lion, the foolishness of a lemming, and the lightning reactions of a salmon, riding a tandem across the Indian subcontinent has been one of the hardest things I have done. But it’s been possible, and much more enjoyable, with the help of the people who have helped me on my way. Firstly the inimitable Dev, but also TJ, Mike, Shiva, Kulan and many others who have energised, entertained and enlightened me on this journey.

So whilst Newton might not care for those bike-balancing skills embellishing my CV, I might at least point to the one thing that gets you further in life than any other: teamwork.

It takes two