{"id":171947,"date":"2019-01-09T10:00:24","date_gmt":"2019-01-09T10:00:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.welovecycling.com\/wide\/?p=171947"},"modified":"2019-01-09T10:43:39","modified_gmt":"2019-01-09T10:43:39","slug":"stranger-in-a-strange-land-adventures-of-a-globetrotting-cyclist","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.welovecycling.com\/wide\/2019\/01\/09\/stranger-in-a-strange-land-adventures-of-a-globetrotting-cyclist\/","title":{"rendered":"Stranger in a Strange Land: Adventures of a Globetrotting Cyclist"},"content":{"rendered":"

One sometimes forgets that when visiting a land that is strange to you, you may be just as strange \u2013 or even more \u2013 to the residents. On his bike journeys around the world, my friend Will McCarthy experienced that on several occasions, but perhaps never more obviously than in and around Nagpur, the city closest to the geographic center of India. It is a part of the country where Westerners are very rare.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cWhenever I stop for food or chai I draw a crowd,\u201d he wrote. \u201cI try to be polite while they take turns asking questions. What is your country? Where do you live? To where do you belong? When I’m riding, scooters and motorcycles pull up next to me with the same questions. It’s kind of nice; almost everyone is friendly and guileless. But it gets old \u2013 every day, by noon.\u201d<\/p>\n

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To avoid the constant questions and attention he was getting, one day Will abstained from eating his favorite lunch \u2013 a few samosas and a cup of chai at a food stall \u2013 and opted to eat at \u201ca pretty posh-looking air-conditioned restaurant, not for the food or the AC, just for peace and quiet \u2013 there won’t be a crowd around my table.\u201d<\/p>\n

But there was a crowd \u2013 a crowd of one, in the person of the restaurant manager, who took a great interest in him. \u201cAfter the waiter took my order, the manager came over to chat in rapid-fire Indian English,\u201d Will said. \u201cI struggled to understand. My food came and the manager came back, looked at my plate and asked if I would like dal. No, thank you. One minute later, he’s there again. Would I like roti? No, thank you. He returned every other mouthful to ask if I would like something I must have forgotten to order. Juice? Papad? Mineral water? Rice? Sweets? He came back at least ten times. I started wolfing the food down as fast as I could so I could escape. So much for a relaxing lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n