Part 11 - Gangtok to Paro
We started our journey to Siliguri on a very pleasant morning. The weather is cool, the roads are good. Perfect for hiking in the mountains.
Everything seemed perfect, too perfect in fact. As we neared the bridge over the Testa River, my bike died. I put it aside in silent mode to check what the problem was. Aditya continued but I didn't worry as I knew he would be back soon or stop and call me to find out what was stopping me.
I tried to start it but it didn't work. The bike shows no signs of life or revitalization. So I called my trusted mechanic Vinod in Mumbai to ask what the problem was. He asked me to do some procedure and after hearing the result it is a fuel pump issue that needs to be replaced.
Meanwhile, Aditya called, I informed him about the situation and he was with me within minutes. He checked the bike for faults, then decided to go ahead and try to find a mechanic. And he came back with a mechanic who seems to have set up his workshop under the Testa River Bridge. The mechanic went through all the checks and came to the same conclusion as my Mumbai mechanic. The fuel pump needs to be replaced. And being the most expensive part, it can only be purchased from the Royal Enfield dealer in Siliguri, which is 30 km away. He saw our problem and said that I have arranged a van to take my bike to Siliguri.
As we had time before the van was ready, Aditya called the Royal Enfield dealer and reluctantly agreed to give us the parts. It seems a little disgusting. Coincidentally, a few days ago a Sakshar biker friend called me and gave me the name and phone numbers of a prominent member of the Royal Testa Thumpers Motorcycle Club in Siliguri. So I called them and they reassured me and said they would contact the dealer and make sure we got the best attention. Thanks Anupam and Saura for responding to our SOS and agreeing to help us.
The van arrived, the bikes were loaded and we were on our way to Siliguri and it was late afternoon when we reached. Aditya proceeded to take prompt action so as soon as we arrived my bike was taken for any necessary repairs. After being examined by their most experienced experts, it was confirmed that the fuel pump needs to be replaced. So four Teesta Thumpers Motorcycle Club riders came out and rose to the occasion to make sure we and our bikes raced.
In the afternoon, our two motorbikes were ready for the trip to Fuentsholing, but since we usually don't cycle at night, our fellow cyclists took us to the hotel so we could sleep well. Rest up before we go there. Bhutan.
The next day we reached the Bhutan border town of Puntsholing where we needed to get permission to travel around Bhutan, which took some time, so we spent the night at Puntsholing, planning to travel to Paro. the next day.
The road to Faro is beautiful, winding through the mountains, fog reducing visibility in places.
We reached Paro in the afternoon and settled in a nice hotel. Everything in Paro is incredibly beautiful. After booking a taxi to take us to the base of Tiger's Nest, we wandered around the city.
Paro is a very pleasant town with many cafes and restaurants. The discipline of the runners there is amazing. No one seems to drive more than 50 km/h. Everything is very quiet. No one shouted or fought. There is a general sense of calm around him. If you hear loud noises or laughter, you can be sure it's a tourist. The streets are clean, all pedestrians are at crosswalks.
The next morning, surprisingly, the taxi arrived a little late. For some reason I thought punctuality would be a virtue here, but as we found out there, that is not the case.
As usual, the taxi will head down the road to the foot of Pharoah Taksang, get off there and pick us up when we return from our tour. 'Paro Taktsang' means 'Tiger's Nest' and legend has it that Padmasambhava flew from Tibet on a tiger and was responsible for introducing Buddhism to Bhutan.
Now there is a monastery built on top of a rock at 3120 meters height and you have to climb to visit it. Street
And above that there are well-sloped and, although difficult, resting places for drinking water for men and horses (used to transport people and/or goods). We climbed up, prayed for a safe journey and descended. The view is always amazing.
The waiting taxi was a nice break from the training and we headed back to the hotel for a well deserved rest.
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