Pieroad - Indian Trail

Pieroad - Indian Trail

Pieroad - Il giro del mondo a piedi, passando per l'India - fr

What was an unexpected challenge you faced travelling on foot, and how did you overcome it?

When I started writing these answers I was waiting for my visa for Pakistan, the bottleneck of the round-the-world walking tour. For years I had been thinking about how to overcome it because the transition from Pakistan to the next country, China, Afghanistan or Iran, is a particularly tricky area, especially travelling on foot. I had wasted dozens of nights on it, and over time, a dozen scenarios emerged, all considering being already in Pakistan. Against all odds, however, the visa for Pakistan was only issued for 30 days, too few to cross it on foot. I had to change my itinerary: I will head south to Surat, a port on the Indian Ocean, and from there embark for Oman.

Studying the route is important, especially if you are going on foot. Catching up by moving at the rate of 45 km a day sometimes becomes impossible, so it is necessary to move in advance and get an idea of where you are going. Even so, as in the case of the Pakistani visa, it remains something that is not up to us. It is not an excuse to do without preparation and go off on a wild goose chase. One has to strike a balance: remember that the unexpected, by definition, cannot be predicted; but that with good preparation and a certain degree of flexibility, one can turn even an unexpected situation to one's advantage.

As an advocate of exploring the world on foot, how do you ensure that your journey is ecologically sustainable?

When abundance is lacking, one gets used to consuming less, perhaps just enough. There is less waste, for example of water, and especially in the desert: with a couple of litres a day one can manage to cook, drink and take care of basic personal hygiene. The logistical factor leads to less meat consumption, because in the absence of a refrigerator, one cannot take food that perishes quickly. Finally, recycling and repairing become essential, often one has to wait weeks before arriving in a large town where one can stock up on materials; therefore one learns to take care of what one has and to find creative solutions.

In Australia one of Ezio's tyres slashed when we were a month away from arriving in the city. I made up for it with a generous bandage of duct tape and gauze, the kind for wounds, and patched up we were able to walk the next day. Without too much hope, I went rummaging in a roadside dump and a tyre of the exact dimensions turned up!

You have tasted various cuisines during your travels. Which food from which country surprised you the most?

Undoubtedly the 'verde', in Ecuador, a country unknown to both the major tourist trade (aside) and international cuisine. The verde is a type of banana that has to be cooked to be eaten, has a mild flavour and is used as a companion and base for many dishes. Probably the most popular is the tigrillo: the verde is boiled, mashed and sautéed together with eggs so that it takes on an orange colour - hence the name, because of the tiger. Then salted cheese is added, but some prefer chicharrón, pieces of fried pork fat and skin. A flavour and energy bomb, cost: one euro fifty.

 

How do you deal with language barriers, and have you learned new languages or dialects during your travels?

The first three years went smoothly between English and Spanish, it is fun to learn a few expressions in local dialects to personalise communication. In India, the first, substantial difficulties arose. No relation to known languages and, surprisingly, even sign language has changed. Indians shake their heads all the time, so 'yes', 'no', and the nodding of greetings with the head are mixed up, and already introducing oneself becomes complicated.

However, what is disconcerting is to realise that in addition to words, we also have different ways of thinking, and therefore of communicating: learning a few sentences or using an automatic translator are extremely limited in their practicality. I say 'disconcerting' because at first I was stunned by the distance I perceived when trying to understand a person in India and make myself understood. The logical paths are different, so to get to ask something the other person does not know, the reasoning that you have always used and has always worked this time is useless - and you have to realise that it is without the other person telling you.

In some cases it was impossible to even ask to pitch the tent by pointing at the place in front of us. Even a smile, which I thought was part of a universal language, had lost its ability to speak.

 

Can you share a story where the way of life of a local community has had a profound impact on your perspective or philosophy of travel?

In Europe we are used to great monuments: cathedrals, castles, aqueducts. In Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia, vestiges of the Incas and their predecessors survive, Macchu Picchu being the most famous example, but another impressive work is the Qapaq Nan, the system of roads used by the sovereign's messengers, thousands of kilometres up and down the Andes. The Inca empire extended roughly as far south as Santiago de Chile, where Mapuche resistance put a decisive stop to it. Here begins the change of perspective.

The Mapuche have lived in Chile's Central Valley for hundreds of years, yet they have not erected any monuments. Why? Because for them nature was the most beautiful wonder and not worth getting rid of to make room for imposing buildings. Forests, rivers and waterfalls became their sanctuaries, sites to be protected and cherished. In that part of Chile, ancient plant species such as the Araucaria survive; and the oldest trees in the world have been found, the 5000-year-old Alerces, rectifying the primacy of the American redwoods. What would the European landscape have looked like if our ancestors had had the same outlook?

How do you balance the use of technology to share your journey with the desire to be fully present?

It's a balancing act. Since I've been in India, with a stable connection, the issue has become delicate. I tried to blur the lines of usage time, but it didn't work. I find it better to establish conditions of use, for example, avoiding looking at the phone during downtime. Technology serves a purpose, and it's sometimes necessary to reiterate and remember how to use it to achieve that goal. In my case, gathering information, sharing the journey, and communicating with friends and family. Nothing else. If I want to waste time, I do it, but not on the phone. This way, usage is reduced to the essential or little more, and I manage to spend more time looking around.

Besides geographical destinations, are there specific experiences or personal goals you aim to achieve in your future travels?

One day I will return to Latin America to meet again the people I met along the way. A friend from university has started a tiny community in the Amazon rainforest. I would like to go and help him out, to live for a while with a different rhythm, without desires. But the biggest dream is to write a book about walking around the world. It is the only certainty of when I return.

What advice would you give to someone who dreams of embarking on such a journey, but feels hesitant or uncertain about taking the first step?

Reading is life's first journey, the unbridled and impossible race of the imagination. I would say start with books, reading about people who have done similar things to what you dream of. Get carried away, but also understand if it is what you really want. We often desire things that don't belong to us just because they are fashionable and are sold in a tempting way. Thirty years ago travelling was an unusual way of investing time and money, today it has become a status symbol.

I recommend talking to people who have had experience, try to empathise with the difficulties, above all. Then there comes a time when you have to jump in, when you feel prepared. Ready you will never be, because the real journey changes you and the change shakes up what you thought about yourself and the world. If you accept the idea that it can happen, then you go.

India: a multifaceted country, in one sentence what was it like to walk through it?

It was like watching an open-air film staged without the knowledge of the actors.

I only passed through a few regions of northern India, had I been elsewhere the projection would have been different. But something suggests that in every corner, at every moment, something ancient and, for that reason, rare is happening.


What is the advice for those venturing into such an undertaking in this country that they should definitely keep in mind?

First the technical tips, the easy ones. Locals do not use toilet paper, so stock up on it in big cities. Only drink bottled water, mechanical filters do not make tap or well water drinkable. If you are on the streets a lot, quickly get used to the horns in your eardrums. Also quickly get used to the inquisitive stares. Several hotels and guesthouses do not accept foreigners because you need a special form to register them; forget free camping, there are people everywhere and every time you stop you will be assailed by a crowd of onlookers. In four months I only managed to do this three times, hiding in the bushes or in a forest. You can haggle over everything, even when the prices are written down; shopkeepers and street vendors will ask you for at least twice what a local would pay.

General advice, let's say approach, is to keep calm and try to let go. Encounters, especially on the street, work differently. You will find yourself losing your temper every five minutes if you get defensive. Let it go, don't take it personally but be firm, otherwise you will be overwhelmed. People are not ashamed to throw misery in your face or to call on your pity. Arm yourself with a notebook and take note of anything you find strange, out of place, magical or tragic. The rituals are still powerful and alive and abundant. Open up your eyes wide.

 

What are the things that impressed you the most? Landscapes, people, cultural aspects?

The amount of people is delirious. At any hour there is someone out and about, whether in the city or the countryside. As soon as you stop you are surrounded by a crowd of onlookers who ignore the physical distance, touch you, stare at you, not caring how you might feel. I was told it would happen but I didn't think it would be so strong. At times, I found it violent. Coming from the desert certainly didn't help, it was a drastic change of perspective.

Hand in hand, with silent complicity, are the free animals: the ubiquitous cows and water buffaloes, stray dogs, baboons and macaques, goats in quantity, a few sheep, wild pigs, horses, donkeys, dromedaries in the desert regions. It is comforting to see that the massive human presence has not eradicated other forms of life. People and animals coexist serenely, without giving each other a hard time.

Approaching such a rich culture is the door to a further world. One has to come here to realise that there really is more to life than what we think we know. Life is lived differently, with other horizons, and there are different keys to understanding reality.

In any case, I remember passing through a very small part of the Indian microcosm, the North Plains regions, and in a very short time, just four months. Had I lived in other areas, I would probably have different memories.



The next steps? And how will you tackle them?

I am on my way to the city of Surat, 1100 kilometres from Delhi. I plan to get there by the end of February, using the time left on my visa. I will then embark for Oman, praying to find nice people at check-in: Ezio is always a jackpot.

 

From Muscat, Oman's capital, the ascent of the Arabian Peninsula will begin: Al-Hajar mountains, Arabian coastal desert, Kuwait. After a short transit through Iraq, the Zagros range, Iran. These are the next six months. It has to be said, visas permitting.