Oh the places you will go in India by bike
For our last bit of traveling, we spent a few days down in the tropical town of Alappuzha in the southwestern most state of Kerala. "Alleppey" is known for its houseboat tours, which we had a wonderful time doing and enjoying a few hours of idyllic luxury. But until that began - as happened so often in India - we needed to kill a lot of time. So we managed to borrow some bikes from our guesthouse and decided to ride out to the beach. We weren't expecting much given the uniform brand of simple, black utilitarian bikes ridden all over India. But these were two of the sorriest bikes ever to have two wheels. Z grabbed the more MTB-style bike, while I got the "Ladybird" lady's model. Each model pushed the limit of just how far a bike can function while being completely consumed by rust. The rims, spokes, chain, frame, and brakes looked like they'd been dunked in salt water for a few years. Even my bell (and if you're ever in India you know that a bell is a requirement if you want to pedal in traffic) was so completely rusted that it was stone cold silent.
Packing the required patience and a lot of humor, we pedaled out of the guesthouse gate and out into traffic. By Mumbai standards, Alleppey was a piece of cake and we breezed along with the masses of scooters, buses, rickshaws, cars, and humanity baking in the sun. My tires were really low on pressure and my seat need to be raised, so we stopped by a bike shop/stall down the road for some help. We managed to pump up the tires (and break the shop owner’s precariously held together bike pump) and raise the seat three inches, so we were off to the beach.
There is a definite hierarchy within the traffic flow of India. Buses and transport trucks rule the top tier. They're big and fast and they don't stop. Cars are next, followed loosely by rickshaws, scooters, bikes, and pedestrians. Each has to look out for, and yield to, the higher tier. Pedestrians take their lives into their own hands. No one will stop for you, you have to look out for and stay out of the way of everyone else. Zoning out is not an option. There are no real crosswalks or any safety feature for navigating the roads. If you played Frogger in your youth and did well, you could be ok walking around India.
Finally jumping a tier above being a pedestrian and straddling a bike, I could tell an instant difference in how much easier it was to get around. You got a tiny bit more respect than if you were on foot. You were more embedded into the symphonic flow, like a red blood cell charting its course through the veins. Even though my seat was about 20cm too low and I risked injury from having a stealth bike, it was a joy to get out and expand our exploration of the town.
We made it out to the beach and rode down a path to the local fishing village. Kids were ecstatic to see two westerners on bikes and they laughed and yelled "Hello!" and ran to tell their friends about the crazy sight. By now my seat had finally begun to self destruct. There were no bolts holding the plastic seat cover to the metal seat frame and the seat itself started to tilt backwards to an angle dumping me onto the rear wheel. It was almost like riding a lowrider, but I'm sure they're more comfortable. One of the kids saw us fiddling with the seat and ran to find the village bike mechanic. He turned out to be this wonderful man, James, who could be the fishing village version of Charles from Wright Brothers. His small garage had an assortment of bikes and tires and a bench of tools and parts. He took one look at my seat and gave a hearty laugh. He immediately found some bolts and began putting the seat back together. He also fixed the seat angle so it wouldn't slip again. While we were waiting, more schoolkids stopped outside his gate to see the funny westerners. I playfully stuck my tongue out at a group of young boys and this put them into hysterics. Any time we said, "Hello", they would act surprised, then delighted and say Hello right back with a huge smile.
James finished fixing my bike, we took some photos, and we were off to another area of the beach. This time, we were surrounded by some very energetic 13- year-old girls who decided we would be their new best friends and play in the sea and sand together. For a few hours we took lots of photos, played dress up, drew pictures and words in the sand and anything else a bunch of 13-year-olds would preoccupy themselves with. We were getting parched in the hot afternoon sun, so we said goodbye to Meenu, Preya, and Jessy and took off on our bikes. We stopped by the Indian Coffee House by the beach for some snacks, water, and coffee, then rode back to Alleppey happy from such a fun-filled day thanks to our rusty but trusty Indian bikes.
