Meandering north, east and west via Mahasthangarth - Bangladesh + India x 2 - CycleBlaze

December 2, 2010

Meandering north, east and west via Mahasthangarth

to Palasbari

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Getting out of town is a bit of a nightmare, with the man road jammed with noisy traffic. It's last a while before it calms down and there's a left turn and a side road allows me to relax a bit. 

There's an old building to see somewhere.

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Eventually there's a path that leads to an old 'city' called Mahasthangarth.

Along the path is an elephant and my guess is it's there for tourists, but maybe it's a working one. I take a few photos and give the owner 100 taka. He wants two and I tell him what I think.

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Mahasthangarth - the walls go on forever
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The path fades out and goes between simple homes made of mud. It gets to be just a walking trail, but I ride along. The wall is visible and the whole area must have been mightily impressive back in the 15th century.

I end up at the museum where the manager gives me an itinerary of sites to visit which sounds like it'd take at least a day or so of my time, but I've had enough and the idea of walking around the museum doesn't float my boat. 

And there's no way I'm cycling any more of that main road. 

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Instead, I ride west and toy with the idea of getting near Sura Mosque.

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Where is the next bed is something I ponder, but I've a few hours to worry about that. 

This road is okay for now. It's a little busy with vehicles, which eventually gets to me and after an hour, so I veer off it, down a mud path that's heading north. Well see.

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This route is delightful. Homes look a bit different here. Their walls are mud, something I've seen a lot of, but these have a different quality - more robust looking. 

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I pause in a few baris and take pictures and in one I sit and have some snacks and a drink at a vendor's stall, where a crowd soon gathers. Not many (any) tourists visit this place. This seems better than the ruins.

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Along the way I see a woman walking along the grassy verge. She's frail. Who knows how old. I ask to take her portrait with gestures and she seems okay about it, if a bit baffled. After, as a way of showing my appreciation, I hold her hand in mine and it feels like a silk bag with bones in - light, with a fragility and beauty that amazes me. It's something that will linger for far longer than the archeological site in my mind.

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Eventually I end up on a road surfaced with tarmac. It's quiet. I have no idea where I am. All my map shows that seems relevant to people that I ask is a town called Ghoraghat, so that becomes my next destination.

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The route there is a gem, with hardly a single car or bus all the way, which is around 20 or 30 kilometres of riding. Even then, once I get through it and across the north-south road that cuts it in half, I'm back on a similar strip of winding road that drifts through hamlets and past flat fields of wheat and rice, with trees lining a lot of the way. Perfect.

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North, east, west, but not south - that's the wrong direction. I'm now heading to Palasbari because that's where there's a guesthouse people tell me. We'll see. Hopefully there is because light is fading fast. 

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It's gone 4pm. The town is located on the main busy route and when I get there it is noisy with trucks honking like nobody's business.

The hotel is just a few hundred metres away from the junction and it's only 100 taka for a single room. Of course it's basic. That cost translates to just a quid, or a dollar-fifty.

As I walk through the ground floor dining area with my panniers, I notice clay pots of doi in a glass display case and know that's what I'll be having for desert later. Things work out.

Doi
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Today's ride: 60 km (37 miles)
Total: 1,276 km (792 miles)

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