On to India: Introducing the Rickshaw Run
So, now we get to the fun part: driving a rickshaw across
3,000 kilometers of the Indian subcontinent. Along the way I crashed the rick,
spent a night hugging our hotel toilet, partied it up in Goa, befriended the
mayor of a small Gujurati town, met tons of friendly locals, and drank far too
much Kingfisher. Before I get ahead of myself, let me set the stage here.
The Adventurists—the blokes who organize this shindig—describe
the event as “just you and your mates in a wholly unsuitable vehicle,
traversing the subcontinent enduring whatever shit the road throws at you.”
There is a starting point and a finish line, and not much else. The only near
certainties during the trip are that you will get lost and you will break down.
So what’s the point of all this?
 |
| Check out the charity's website here |
Ostensibly the Run is a fundraising event for a charity called
Cool Earth, whose goal is to preserve the Amazon rain forest. Each team should
raise a minimum of 1000 Pounds, 500 of which goes to Cool Earth, and 500 to the
Adenturists’ operating costs. It sounds altruistic to say we were doing this to
save the earth. But let’s be honest: most teams, mine included, sign up for the
thrill and the adventure of the Run.
 |
| A rickshaw ain't exactly built for long road trips...far from it; if you are crazy enough to join, spots fill up fast. Check out their website |
You will have problems, you will likely get Delhi belly, and
you will surely face unexpected circumstances. The Rickshaw Run isn’t for
everyone. But for those of us who signed up, we did it for those twits and
turns, the bumps along the way. We wanted to push ourselves, to meet the
locals, and to see India like few foreigners have.
Oh and another point—the organizers were clear that this was
the Rickshaw Run, not the Rickshaw Race. It wasn’t a competition to see who
could get to the finish line in Jaisalmer first. Getting from A to B is the fun
part. One group actually finished two days early, and within 10 minutes of
posting their picture in Jaisalmer on the Whatsapp group, three other teams
were ridiculing them. Why would you finish already? There are still two full
days of adventure left to be had!
Now, on to the details…
Our run started in Kochi, in the southern state of Kerala,
on the 2nd of January. Before the official start date, teams needed
to register, test drive their rickshaws, and celebrate the New Year. As I mentioned
in the last post, I left Hangzhou for India on the 28th of December,
and after a quick layover in Kuala Lumpur I arrived that night in Kochi.
 |
| Kochi, also spelled Cochin (former British spelling), in southwest India |
Each rickshaw team had 2-3 people, and I would be riding
along with Mike and Sam, two buddies who I’d known since sophomore year of
university. A friend of Sam’s named Pat was also coming along. He had signed up
with a couple friends, both of whom bailed, but got another guy to come along
rather last minute. I’ll tell you more about Tim later, but let’s just say he
was a special dude. A crazy, special dude.
 |
| Mike booked a Marriott with points for the first night; not bad! |
Sam and Mike arrived early on the morning of the 29th
and met me at the hotel in central Kochi. That afternoon we took a cab to Fort
Cochin, the old part of the city situated on a narrow peninsula, where we would
register for the Run and test drive our rickshaws. We hadn’t booked a hotel,
but online many places still had available rooms. When we arrived to ask about
vacancies, however, several hotels told us they were fully booked. We soon
found out that an online reservation was no guarantee of a room.
While some of the mom and pop places failed to grasp the
concept of online bookings, others still had no presence on the Internet, which
was fortunate for us, because it helped us to find lodging last minute. After
checking in we settled on a restaurant/bar near the ferry terminal for dinner.
As we sat down a Kiwi at the next table leaned over and asked, “You guys part
of the Rickshaw Run?” We joined tables and introduced ourselves. It wasn’t long
before our group had grown to over a dozen Runners (what should I call us?)
from the US, Europe, Australia, and New Zealand.
The first group was already going on about drinking rules
for the Run, and I thought we’d have a late one, but to my surprise the restaurant
stopped serving at 10 pm. Many states in India have cracked down on the hard
stuff in a drive to curb alcoholism. In Kochi most establishments are dry, and
those that do get a liquor license stop serving by 10 pm. In the end it might
have been better to have an early one and rest for our upcoming trip.
The following day Mike, Sam, and I strolled around the old
town, which is a tourist enclave of well preserved colonial buildings. Kochi existed
as a trading port long before the arrival of the Europeans, at the turn of the
16th century. The Portuguese made it the first European outpost on
the subcontinent, and the city was later ruled by both the Netherlands and
England. Catholic and Protestant churches still dot the old town, and over a
third of the city’s 2 million residents are Christian. There is even a
synagogue in the old town, although Kochi has few remaining Jewish inhabitants.
 |
| A side street in the Fort Kochi area |
 |
| One of the Catholic churches which dates to the Portuguese era |
Part of our tour of the town was in search of an ATM with
actual cash. Throughout the trip, but especially the first half of the Run,
getting cash was a real pain in the ass. Prior to last fall the two highest
Indian Rupee bills were 500 and 1,000 notes (1 USD was worth about 68 when we
were there). In an effort to curb tax evasion and the black market Indian Prime
Minister Narendra Modi announced that the 500 and 1,000 notes would no longer
be recognized as legal currency, and would be replaced by new 500 and 2,000
Rupee bills.
The government didn’t want to tip off the tax evaders, so
they made the move a secret. With one fell swoop Modi rendered useless 86% of
the value of total notes in circulation. People had time to change them, of
course, but the problem was that the government was ill prepared to print
enough new bills; few people knew of the plan, so as to prevent a leak to the
tax evaders. But that also meant few people could prepare for the transition.
 |
| A picture I took in a small Kerala town; it's not the greatest quality, but you get the idea about ATM lines! |
December 31st, 2016 was the final day to trade in
old notes. The government had still printed far too few bills, so cash was hard
to come by. Most ATMs restricted withdrawls to 2,000 or 2,500 Rupees (less than
$40), and many simply had no cash to dispense at all. Fancy malls seemed a good
bet—I managed to get 10,000 Rupees from one on the first day—and early in the
morning after they’d been restocked odds were better.
In the end we survived, but there were a couple meals in
Kochi where we were out of cash, the ATMs were empty, and we had to eat at an
expensive place that accepted credit card. In small towns along the side of the
road chances were almost nill that you could use card. Finding an ATM that
dispensed 4,500 Rupees was like hitting the jackpot! I still remember doing a
little dance our last day in Kochi when we found one of those jems and stocked
up for the journey. Luckily we also stocked up in Goa, and further north in
cities like Vadodara and Udaipur it was easier to find stocked ATMs.
So, after we stumbled upon a functioning ATM, we ate lunch
and headed over to the Rickshaw Run HQ to check in, which I’ll detail in the
next post!
Comments