Cars, buses, rickshaws and people as far as the eye can see; the noise is deafening. I have to properly shout at Claudia for her to hear me at all. We are in Old Delhi in India. Our aim: to safely ride the brand new KTM LC8 Adventure R through 24 states of this vast country, around Bangladesh and then on to Nepal. India is a country of myths, stories of the maharajahs and hardship. A country with both overpopulated areas and areas of solitude; with both mega-cities and uninhabited deserts and tropical forests. Sensory overloads are pre-programmed, culture shocks
are found at every turn.
 
Our adventure begins in the north-west of the country.
We travel through the holy city of Haridwar at the
upper reaches of the Ganges, winding round in-
numerable bends along the foothills of the
Himalayas to Simla then on to Dharamsala,
the exile home of the Dalai Lama. The
snow-covered mountains on the horizon
show that spring has not quite taken hold
here yet. The temperatures force us
to unpack our thick coats. After a
brief detour through politically fra-
gile Kashmir, we cross the broad
planes of the Punjab region, where
       the green rice and grain fields
            are shrouded in a milky
                  haze of mist and
                        cloud until
                             midday.

From now on, we'll spend weeks heading in the same direction. More than 4,500 kilometres lie ahead of us to the south. Women in colourful saris signalise our arrival in Rajasthan, a place of camels, maharajahs and desert temples. The KTM is in its element on the wonderful sand and dirt roads. By day we enjoy easy off-road riding; in the evenings we pass through ancient caravan cities with ornate sandstone palaces. Traders and nomads with brightly coloured turbans pass us by on their proud camels and we feel as though we're in a tale from a thousand and one nights.
 
More than 20 million people live in the Mumbai metropolitan area and we find ourselves in the midst of chaotic scenes of metal, exhaust fumes and people. The contrast with the still and lonely desert region could not be greater. It's a few hours before we are able to squeeze out of this constricted space and escape into the heartlands and the Western Ghats, the central mountain range that runs to the southern tip of the country. The noise and turmoil are simply cut off and the wonderful winding trails through the luscious tropical forest of palm and banana trees are almost ours alone.
 

All of a sudden, all of our efforts are rewarded – at the end of a small street that seemed to lead nowhere we're looking out over the Chitrakot waterfalls. They are only a third smaller than the famous Niagara Falls but having arrived in the dry season, only a couple of trickles run down the vertical stone walls. Four days later and we're standing before the gates of Calcutta, a city than has sadly become famous for being a place of hardship where many people live on the streets. Despite not closing our eyes to the general poverty around us, what we find, however, is a cosmopolitan metropolis of warm and friendly people with wonderful colonial buildings.

Palm trees, sunshine, sea and sand; after two days relaxing on Goa's beaches we understand how so many passers through end up staying a while. The landscape in front of us is like some-thing from the Jungle Book. Dense tropical forests, flaming red sandy tracks and bendy little asphalt roads make up the playing field for the next few days of our adventure. The camels have long since disappeared and working ele-phants plod calmly along the streets between lorries and buses. After 29 days and over 6,300 km, we finally reach India's 'Lands End', the southern-most tip of the country where the Gulf of Bengal and the Arabian Sea flow together.
 
In front of us lies the subcontinent's long east coast. Once again, we move from the coastal region into the mountains further inland, passing through India's most beautiful temple town of Madurai, the former French colony of Pondi-cherry with its Mediterranean flair and the vast metropolis of Chennai (previously Madras) with its millions of inhabitants. The heat in the remo-
        te state of Chhattisgarh is almost unbear-
             able. Bush fires blaze in the arid forests,
                 dangerously close to the roads.
                       There are few petrol stations
                          here and we often have to ma-
                              ke do with the red canisters
                                 of petrol provided
                                   by villagers.
 

With great excitement, we travel on towards Bangladesh. Few travellers journey here, possibly due to negative newspaper headlines about over-population, floods and poverty. The countryside areas are dominated by green rice fields bordered by palm groves. The cities are full of drab functional buildings with masses of people and bicycle rickshaws finding their way along the streets
 
The Ganges' vast river delta passes through the south of the country. We cross the waterways on rusty ferries that aren't exactly confidence-inspiring and back over the border into the east of India. It's only possible to travel through three of the states here without a special permit. There is a military presence everywhere due to the political unrest. We return to the Himalayas along windy, deserted jungle roads. After visiting to the once forbidden Kingdom of Sikkim and Darjeeling, the city famous for its tea industry, we head upstream along the Ganges to Varanasi, the most spiritual city in India.
 
Just one more day and it's time to leave a country that's as chaotic as it is beautiful. Proud to have mastered the often gruelling traffic and survived the many dicey encounters with lorries, buses and cows, we ride towards the Nepalese border. Just 200 metres before the border crossing and a lorry forces me to slam on my brakes on the sandy street; I've no chance of staying on the bike but fortunately there's little damage or injury. India didn't want us to leave completely unscathed after all. Three days and we finally reach Kathmandu, the capital of this small country in the
         heart of the Himalayas and the final destination of our 13,500 km journey.