Eating is very important to me. Whilst the rest of the west worry if they are eating too much, I worry if I’m eating too little. I probaly need a minimum of 5000 calories a day (more in the mountains), and judging by my belt I’ve already lost 3 inches off my waist . I’ve just travelled across the plains of Northern India that connect Nepal with the Indian Himalayas. I didn’t particularly enjoy the cycling and here’s a few words to describe those few days;
Hot at night, Even hotter in the day, Humid, Dusty, Dirty, Piles of rubbish, Poverty, Large lorries, Polution, Potholes, Enormous potholes, Continuous houses between towns, Lots of people.
If you have a romantic image of India try visiting this part of India. Now amongst all this I have to the find somewhere to eat.
July 8 th
I tried to find any where that vaguely resembled what we would call a restaurant near the guesthouse I was staying in, but with no success. So it was one of the, what I would describe as a transport cafe, by the side of the road. Dirt floor, broken dirty tables, sort of kitchen out the back with no running water and a wood fire for cooking. However in return the owner and his family would be lovely and always made me feel I was the most important customer they had ever had. Not a menu in site and only a smattering of English and so the food adventure began. It would always involve rice, but beyond that I didn’t always know what I was eating. The worse thing was the ‘CLOTH’. They always had a dirty cloth tucked in their trousers that they used to clean everything. Now I can accept cleaning the tables with it, but if a plate was not clean they would use it to clean the plate. Now you all seen those microscopic images of hairy germs, well thats how my eyesight went. I could look at those cloths and see gigantic hairy germs taunting me. I would spend the whole of the night wondering if I would ever leave the bathroom for the next few days, but surprisingly I was never ill once.
July 9 th
I had reached the Himalays and started my first big climb and exactly 4000 ft I saw the most extraordinary and unexpected sight I had seen the whole trip. A Mc Donalds. This I could not miss, and I’m not even a fan of them. I ordered a Big Mac and sat down savouring the moment before my teeth sunk into the bread role. Yes, yes, yes it was totally devoid of any taste, bland, just like the chemists in Detroit, or where ever they live, had designed it to be. My taste buds had been overloaded for the last 2 months, and they were enjoying a brief holiday. The burger itself was of course not beef, but chicken, cows in India are found in the middle of the road, not the middle of a role. All in All a beautiful bland meal. And the best bit was the toilets were cleaned every 2 hours, and signed to say they had.
A Not photo of Mc Donalds. If you want a photo, go to your local Mc Donalds, it will be identical to the one in the Himalayas.
Later on July the 9 th
My afternoon snack was street food. My usual method of ordering was by pointing and then wait and see. He took two, sort of scone looking things, and flattened them with his thumb and then into hot oil to cook them on a paraffin burner. Once cooked he sprinkled them with crisp flakey pastry and now came the mystery bits. He offered me a choice of 3 large vats, one was a dark green, one was black, and the other white. I refused the white, recognising it as kurd, but the other two were generously ladled on and then a selection of spices were sprinkled on. It was delicious. Welcome back India, good bye Mc Donalds. The dark green and black liquids were I think sweet and sour working perfectly with the spices and scones. I’m writing to the Mc Donald chemist of Detroit and recommend they employ him, they will find him on the road to Shimla, between the mini bus and the big lorry.
Street food bliss
The plains of India
Onion Johnny goes to the Himalaya's 
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