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Leaving Delhi

5 November 2004

A moment in time, sat on a horse outside of the Red Fort. Wondering slightly what I was doing. It was 2 pm on a Friday and I was sat on my horse Rosie outside of Lahore Gate in the famed Mughal Red Fort, Delhi, about to depart on a 10,000 km horse ride to Beijing. How would you feel? I couldn’t have felt more scared if I wanted. The press were bobbing around me, ringing me and constantly asking questions and it was difficult to keep them all happy! Rosie was being her usual patience self as the cameras flashed and I wished I shared her self control as I struggled to keep down the well of excitement that was building inside.

An hour later and I am stood on Azard Marg not far from the Red Fort. The traffic is blaring all around me and it was the height of rush hour, which basically meant that we didn’t move anywhere for several hours. I kept checking around me to make sure that nobody was slying opening my back bags on my horse. Every horse is actually blind immediately behind them, and this was precisely how I felt as we fought our way towads the start of the Grand Trunk (GT) road to Pakistan. Even now I stood kind of unbelieving that I was about to ride a horse 10,000kms for one year. I was still in familiar territory in Delhi, but as the sun set behind me, the congested streets of Delhi disappeared behind and the GT road began. The GT road is the busiest road in India with the highest accident rate and I couldn’t help wonder how I and the horse would fare.

For all this, I was fortunate not to have left Delhi alone. Accompanying me for the first three weeks of my trip was Rommel (and his trainee, Tiat), one of the directors of Twenty Fifth Frame Productions who is helping me film the Indian leg of my journey. Our plan is two fold. Number one is to capture as much of my ride with me in it while we had the chance and the second was so that I could learn from Rommel some of the tricks of the trade! So followed by their little brown Maruti, I edged slowly toward the beginnings of the GT road. My phone constantly kept ringing with friends wishing me good luck and I was even met by Miss Beru from Delhi Riding Club who was concerned that I didn’t have a hard hat and came to give me one!

Dhaba - traditionally a place where a weary traveller (be it truck driver or horse rider) can rest for the night. Most old dhabas have rows of charpaoys lined outside where you can take your food and sleep. A bed costs normally costs 10rupees and responsibility for your stuff is your own.

At around 10pm we finally came to ‘Apna Dhaba’ or ‘Your Dhaba’ in Hindi. Rommel had just arrived and the owner was all smiles at a rich foreigner and friends staying the night…. that was until he saw the horse. “Sorry sir, you can’t stay here”, he muttered looking slightly abashed and uncertain on what to do with Rosie who was presently relieving herself in the driveway! I wouldn’t imagine he’s had many people randomly rocking in the middle of the night with a horse. “I can’t take responsibility for your luggage, but there are plenty more dhabas 3 or more kilometres further on” he continued looking even more nervous. Rather than argue, I reasoned that there must be a dhaba nearer than that, so we slowly pushed on. Eventually we reached a small jaded joint just over a kilometre up the road. The owners were unsure about having a horse stay the night, but a few smiles and jokes later and they quickly agreed. A charpoay was brought out and Rosie was tethered to a nearby post. I really enjoyed that first night with Rommel and Tiat. By the time we had settled in, it had become cold, but with a ready supply of hot chai (tea) and roti and dal (flat bread and thick lentil soup) we quickly warmed up to the prospect of ride ahead.

One of my main worries during that first night, was what I would do with my luggage when I was sleeping. Thus, in a himalayan range construction around me, I piled my stuff and bedded down for the night.

At 5am I awoke and suddenly realised that my stuff was gone. I jumped out of bed and ran into the neighbouring kitchen to interrogate the cook on duty who just looked amused as he gestured to a pile dumped on the floor. “I look good, OK?” he happily said as I just stared in amazement and grabbed my stuff. I didn’t really get back to sleep surprisingly enough, but I was eventually glad as I got to enjoy sunrise and reflect about the journey to come.