don't worry. it is no problem

Everything is possible…Yes yes, don’t worry… It is no problem..

A few of my favorite, often heard Indian phrases and somehow, it’s true, everything just seems to work out. In the final hour, at the last minute, just when you think there is absolutely no way in hell this is going to happen…Then, suddenly as my teacher Kumar says, “magic is there.”

We were on the road, driving the motorbike up up up, through the lush and winding coorg hills. And suddenly, the bike stopped, we were (at least we thought) 40 km away from anything remotely, village like. So, we pushed the bike into the shade and I said to Steven, “First let’s have a snack, and then, we will worry about the bike.” So, we stood in the shade on a beautiful road, and snacked on the snacks our Indian family had packed, homemade potato chips, chat, and a large ball of something sweet. Mmmmm…

Then, before we actually even looked at the bike, we made a plan. It seemed as if the bike was out of gas, although it shouldn’t have been because we had filled it just before departing. Our plan A, we would switch it to the reserve tank and it would make it to the nearest gas station (ha, pretty optimistic). Our plan B, if no reserve, I would hitch a ride to the nearest gas station while Steven waited with the bike, get gas and hitch a ride back. Our plan C, if it wasn’t a gas problem… well we didn’t think about that.

So, Steven turned on the reserve tank, and bam.. it started. Yay!! Part 1 of plan A worked, but we also knew we only had 1 liter, didn’t exactly know where the nearest petrol station was and knew the bike was guzzling gas at a faster rate than 30 km/liter. We also knew the biggest town was 40 km away. We crossed our fingers and hopped part 2 of plan A would work. About 10km from there, was a lovely little petrol station. Yay!!

We then, called the guesthouse we were staying at to tell them where we were and when we would be arriving. About 30 minutes later, we arrived, in the town nearest the guesthouse. We pulled over to figure out what we were going to do about lunch and suddenly a jeep pulled up next to us and the man inside said, “ Hello, Steven?” OMG!… It was the guesthouse owner. I guess he was just hanging out in town waiting for two white people to go by on a motorbike. He lead us to a little restaurant, we ate and then we followed him through miles of coffee plantations, to his own. We spent the night as the only guests at a gorgeous guesthouse high in the hills of Coorg. We wrote music and sang and played and had a wonderful time!

It is no problem. No problem at all.