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was handed over and a brown paper bag was quickly shoved into Aidan ’ s hand with a hurried gesture to hide it . Both tuk-tuks took different ways back into town and Aidan was safely deposited at our hotel . We guiltily sipped our whiskey and promised ourselves that going forward we would do a little more research about the places we were about to visit .
We had heard of an ancient Shiva temple perched on a peninsula near Koteshwar on the western coast of Gujarat . It was as good an excuse as any to ride the entire width of the state but there was conflicting information as to whether we needed a permit for the area . Our hotel manager assured us that we did not , so we didn ’ t think about it any further .
Bitten by the bug on the Rann of Kutch , we thought it would be fun to take the bikes for a spin along the deserted beaches on the south coast . A dirt road through cotton fields and small villages with colourful temples took us to the dunes . Aidan opened the throttle hoping to fly over the loose sand , but of course his bike sank immediately , the rear tyre spraying up fountains . It took a lot of pushing and digging to get it back out .
We were sweating buckets in our bike gear and the sea was calling . Our swimming clothes were inaccessibly stuffed down into the bottom of our luggage and nudity is strictly taboo in India . But the beach was deserted , so we stripped down to our undies and jumped into the cool waves before anyone could show up . Duly refreshed we hit the road . The landscape became barren and dry , vast sandy flatlands covered in thorny green acacia bushes . This area was sparsely populated , and settlements were few and far between .
Suddenly Aidan ’ s bike cut out and refused to start . I had seen a small
roadside dhaba restaurant a short while back and rode there to ask for help . Several men got up from their meal to help , but no one spoke any English . I pointed at my fake wedding ring and the motorcycle and made cutthroat gestures , which unbelievably , they interpreted correctly to mean that my husband ’ s bike was broken down somewhere . Or at least it had the desired effect . One man rode off on his little Hero Honda and returned moments later with a mechanic riding pillion .
I led them to where Aidan was stranded , and the mechanic began methodically checking over the bike . He removed the carburettor , found water in the float bowl , and emptied it . When he finished , the bike ran just long enough for us to start believing it fixed , then it cut out again . More fiddling with the carb and some encouraging words later the mechanic took it for a test ride , and it seemed fine . We paid a small
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