and then into the bare rugged rock of a monsoon shallow river bed. I got stuck between two ridges. The odd native walked by. "Saraipur" I panted at them pointing forwards. They assented vaguely. I thought they might recognise my need of assistence, but I managed to get mobile again, hoping the worst was past. To be honest, the direction they were pointing in looked like pure wilderness to me, but all I needed was a path which would take me to tarmac. I struggled on a bit more, next to a wall, and over some lumps, accross some more river bed to a house with what looked like a road. This was a relief, but the natives still pointed out into the wilderness. There didn't seem to be a path any more, just little tracks, and rocks. I was having great difficulty, and got stuck a couple more times, but going forward had to be easier. Everyone was pointing that way, after all. Things got easier for moment, but then I realised I was riding up on the wall between dry paddy fields. A man on a bike helped me out of a break in the wall, and pointed out an alternative route, for which I was very greatful. It proved only marginally better but at last I made it to another house, and where there was a house there was a road! I begged for water, as the family and granny with a boob hanging out looked on and asked me to play the guitar for them. I was sorry, I gestured, I had to get out of here. They directed me down an impossibly sandy track and helped me turn round and I was up by a luscious pond. Wilderness, or no wilderness. I decided I needed a dip, lost in the wilderness or no. Some indians turned up and stood around watching me change and dry and rethread the cord in my trousers. Are these people so bored? Then I was off between the paddy fields again with no idea where I was going. The path then dipped into a puddle of about 9 inches of water before emerging next to some houses, where surely there would be a road! I unloaded the bike, and at last someone came to help take the bike throught the water. I drank greedily from the pump as all the women and chilren looked on and the men tried to make some Hindi sense out of me. I repacked the bike and believed they were sending me in the right direction. The helpful one was following too, which was a good thing, because this was more a labyrinth than a route. Up 'twixt the paddy fields, and I felt a cry issuing forth "Oh Shit!!" and lept sideways into the paddy field and the bike rolled after me.

The guitar head snapped off, the clutch lever was fractured, the computer - I'd have to wait and see but after that, with this guy's help, we got the bike back on track and rode it back to town. amazing! I was ready to give him anything for helping me out of such a tight spot. He looked at the 20$ but it was still Sunday, and the banks were closed. In the end a policeman told me to take it back.