heels on fire

Beirut - First Impressions

2008-10-11T09:53:00.000Z

Beirut is a city which enlivens the senses and encourages curiosity. As you move from one street to the next we grew with confidence with each footstep. For a large part of the morning Dez and I walked in relative peace and quiet, observing and trying to find the words and images which might kick start our Lebanese adventure. In the early afternoon I was awoken from my sleepy wandering with a start as I had my knuckles rapped by a passing wing mirror. Shortly thereafter, having eaten, Dez found his camera and got to doing what he does best, clicking the stories of the day.

Photo's 1,2 and 3 - One of the first observations of the city are the elegant stone front facades of the Beirut's building's. French windows, shutters and hanging sheets shape the buildings into a view not unlike a bookshelf. The distant charm of the buildings often belie the close reality. Up close the walls carry weary tales of a violent past. Pock marked bullet holes and shrapnel marks date back to the Lebanese Civil war which began in 1975. We have yet to unravel the stories behind the Civil War, but as time goes on we will endeavour to shed light.

Photo's 4, 5 and 6 – As the sun dipped we walked through a maze of streets snacking on delicious falafel pitta rolls and quaffing down think dreamy thimble sized cups of sweet sweet coffee.

Not linked to any picture - We shared a random conversation with Gabriel (a struggling film maker and avid movie goer), who was at the time double fisting a pizza slice in each hand. In between forcing down mouthfuls of food he described the contradictions of the women of the city, where it was commonplace here in Beirut to see a woman in a full abaya walking with her sister wearing the latest in mini-skirt fashion. Parts of Beirut are indeed noteworthy for the large numbers of beauty parlours and lingerie shops. We will be looking into this more closely!

The traffic (and car horns) seemed to lull in the late afternoon. Shop keepers withdrew to their comfy chairs with a cigarette and newspaper. The pace momentarily dipped in anticipation of the night ahead.

Pic 7, 8 – Traveling back from the Beirut Marathon Association offices in the Hazmeih, to the North of the city we had the good fortune to pick up a 1983 Peugeot (sp?) taxi with Gibrail, a Maronite Christian. Once we had deftly moved through the standard introductions and looks of bemusement of our reasoning for being in Lebanon, he proudly shared the news of the birth of his second child some fourteen days earlier. His daughter is called Princess, apparently the first girl in the whole city to be given such a noble and worthy name. Gibrail's son is called Antonio-Prince. It was a delight for Dez and I to soak up the pride and joy of a loving father.

Pic 9, 10 and 11 – Beiruti's migrate in numbers to the Corniche water front in the evenings. An interesting cosmopolitan mix of walkers, joggers, cyclists, fishermen, sheisha smokers, couples (young and old), kids, card players and soldiers amongst others, congregate as if on cue as the sun sets. The various acrobatic exercise's intermingled with intense discussions appear to be a routine for the local population. Moving away from the shore line, we wander up to Hamra, the shopping district of the city which is positively abuzz with late night shoppers. If I lived here, given the beauty of the coast line and the gentle atmosphere of the city, I have no doubt that my evenings would happily follow the exact same pattern as those described above.

Beirut - First Impressions

2008-10-11T09:34:00.000Z

Photo's 4, 5 and 6 – As the sun dipped we walked through a maze of streets snacking on delicious falafel pitta rolls and quaffing down think dreamy thimble sized cups of sweet sweet coffee.

Heels on fire...in Lebanon

2008-10-09T08:46:00.002Z

Hello Folks...

Heels on fire returns...

Our intrepid and relentless runner, Peter Dulvy returns this time to run from the North to the South of Lebanon followed close on heels by talented Mr.Roberts (Desmond) again. Keeping them company will be some of Lebanon's best long distance runners and a convoy of cameramen who will document their 250 km journey along the Lebanese coast.
Starting today...

Watch this space.

Watch this space…

2006-06-27T14:53:00.000Z

Over the past couple of months, we received a lot of support, attention and words of inspiration from all of you in different parts of the world. For this motivation, we are deeply grateful. Over the next couple of months, we intend to spend time to think through the future of Heels on Fire and how we can take it forward. The inputs we have received from all of you are a great start and we would welcome continued discussions on the Discussion Forum (and no cash loan adverts). We will also strive to keep you all amused and interested through a series of photo essays.

Keep the mails coming...

RK

Mattancherry - Reflections of the irony of development

2006-05-18T20:40:00.000Z

16th May 2006
Then an Ancient Trade Centre, Jewish Town and Now?

Mattancherry an island surrounded by the backwaters flourished as an ancient trade centre, attributing its popularity to its locational advantage. What was perceived, as Advantage-Mattancherry soon became the cause of the slow death of the town.

The spirit of this bustling ancient trade centre seems to have succumbed to “Development”. Roadways, the introduction of lorries and autos now non-hesitantly replace the boats and canoes that once plied across the channel. The Development cycle of Mattancherry still lets it hold onto the oldest Synagogue in the common wealth countries (built -1568 AD), but forbids it to hold on to the Jewish families.

(Presently there are believed to be only two Jewish families, the rest have sold property and migrated to Israel). Closed doors and windows in unusual happy, bright colours eerily symbolise this paradox of this development. The Development cycle did not allow for Mattancherry to hold on to the spice trade, but welcomed replacements
by more lucrative options like tourism. The shops originally run by the Jews are now run by Kashmiris- probably refugees displaced from their origins. Mattancherry- a heritage precinct has left us questioning the responsibilities of development.

Can development mean displacing progressive societies and freezing a city in time for tourists to come and see? Why was this gap between the old and new not bridged? How did development lead to the death of a progressive town? What went wrong or then did it go right !! Maybe you may want to tell us….

desmond, sudeep and tarika

Day 13

2006-05-18T20:26:00.000Z

Woman’s Day

Malampuzha Dam
13th May 2006
2km

A Gentle Morning Start
We awoke at 4.30am and went for a gentle run along the dam wall to catch the sunrise. Alas, the clouds keep the sunrise deep under wraps. The dam was calm apart from fisherman kicking their way around the lake sat in car tyre tube- rafts. The freshwater prawns they caught (whilst smoking cigarettes and chatting) looked delicious enough to entice us back to an early breakfast and chai! My friend Jenny joined us later in the day. Over to you Jenny!

Pete

Perumbavoor to Aluva
13th May (afternoon run)
15kms

I’m Jenny – I’m from Sweden but have lived in South Africa since 2004. It was in South Africa that I was introduced to long distance running, and it’s also where I got to know Pete. For me, running is about building strength for my body and inner self. After a stressful day there is nothing more relaxing than a long run. It gives me time to re-focus, meditate and start all over again. When I heard about Heels on Fire I decided to join the team in Kerala for 10 days. And here I am - at the Government Guest House in Aluva.

My first Indian run…
I flew in to Kochi earlier this morning - my first time in India. I came off the flight feeling nervous, curious and very excited abut the week ahead. What would it be like to run here – as a woman, and given the humid climate! I didn’t have to wait long to find out. The guys were keen to go for a late afternoon run.

Weaving in and Out
We started off in heavy traffic and most of my attention was on cars, motorcycles, buses and trucks. I have never seen anything like it. Soon the traffic eased off and I could focus more on the wider surroundings.

Women’s Vote
As a female in shorts and top I was a bit concerned I would offend people, but it was fine. The men seemed somewhat unsure on how to react to me. They were shaking hands with the guys, but left me with a friendly smile. But, I caught a number of women surreptitiously smiling at me from doorways and from the back of motorbikes. It felt good to get this small but important vote of confidence. This contrasted to the guys who had rarely been able to engage with women along their journey so far.

Riverside Stop
A boy called out to us from his house. His name was Hanif and he invited us to see the river at the back of his house. The guys followed him and his father, while I stopped to chat with one of his eight sisters, his mother and friends. Unfortunately, they didn’t speak much English. But I understood that they wondered if I was married. They asked how many children I had and where they were. They looked very concerned when I told them that I was not married and had no children. They then asked the same about the guys. The women looked even more concerned. They asked why, and I didn’t really know what to say. Luckily the others came back and it was time for us to move on. I guess that being unmarried at our age sits at odds with the society here. ( I think the women were more concerned about unmarried people hanging out together!)

A Man’s world?
Another thing that occurred to me while passing all the small stalls along the road was that they were all run by men. The tea and coffee stands were run by men and frequented exclusively by men, as were the fruit and vegetable stalls. When I think about it, even the guesthouse was staffed by men.. This is quite different from my experience in South Africa were women run most small roadside businesses. This is something I would like to know more about. Hopefully over the next 10 days I can learn more about the lives of women here.

Day’s End
We rounded off my first run in the tropical heat and dust of the evening. Later we stretched out on the lawn; as we chatted the sun went down, the Mynnah birds squawked and the fruit bats unfurled their wings. The heat and humidity had been much greater than I expected. 15kms was more than enough, considering I slept for less than two hours in the previous 24 hours!

After a shower and a delicious dinner I was happy to crawl into bed. I can only conclude that my first day in India was brilliant and I am assured that I will have an exciting week ahead.

Jenny

Day 12

2006-05-17T20:49:00.000Z

12th May 06

Kanjikode – Malampuzha Dam
12kms

Highlands and the Lowlands - Palakkad District

Moving south from Silent Valley we drove through the bustle of Palakkad town to the Government guesthouse in Malampuzha. There is a noticeable contrast between the highlands and lowlands of Palakkad town. The lowlands are thick with paddy fields, cashews (hidden in thick outer canopies), pepper and rubber trees. While the highlands look both ominous and resplendent, with high mountain peaks, tangled forests and deep ravines.
Life Soil
Running in the late afternoon sun I retold Dan and Rahul what I heard the night before. A man at a coconut stand had explained to me that soil is a key factor in the lives of people along the rural roads here. Folklore associates soil's connection to the characteristics of people who live from the land. Where the soil is ‘loose’ - the people take life at a more laid back pace; loose soil is said to develop an idle streak! Where the soil is hard and difficult, the people who cultivate it are dedicated, hard working and resilient – or so the story goes. Palakkad’s deep red soil is virtually solid. As we discussed the possibilities of the soil we ran on - we covered some 5kms in glorious oblivion.

As we turned from the precarious 'A' road to a tranquil 'B' road we came across T.V Lijo, a primary health worker. Lijo stood in front a prefab building marked 'Early Cancer Detection Centre'. We have seen hospitals in all the major cities, but this was the first rural clinic we had come across.
Kerala has the best health care systems in India, and has been compared to Cuba for its ability to provide quality health to all citizens, urban and rural.
Reaching Out
Lijo took time out to give me a tour of the facility, showing me an array of equipment and awareness leaflets (in Malaylam and English). There is a team of health professionals who reach out to surrounding villages with awareness campaigns on the symptoms of cancer. Mouth cancer is especially high in the area because chuna (lime) and tobacco – (ingredients of beetle-nut chewing) burn into the soft mouth tissue, potentially leading to cancer.
This four-room clinic assesses around 300 patients a month. I saw a web-cam and a large TV screen. Referrals go to Thrissur (60kms away) or even further, so the web-cam enables doctors in Thrissur to assess patients ‘remotely’. It struck me that in my own work history of developing primary health care facilities in rural regions in the Pacific and Africa, I had never seen such prudent technology.
As we said goodbye I looked back to see Lijo standing beside the clinic's huge satellite dish.

Riding Along
As we passed tidily irrigated paddy fields, three men, all squeezed onto a single seat 'Hero Honda' motorbike, waved us to stop. With a swirling hand gesture they asked why we were running. A fair question! We managed to explain ourselves in a mixture of Malalyam, Hindi and English, drawing laughs and confused looks.
In the distance we spotted Dez and Sudeep having chai (tea) under a Banyan tree at a small roadside hut. We joined them for a bit. The fast flowing conversation traversed through tales of a beautiful little girl who appeared - observed us for a minute - before disappearing back into the woods. She was a 'tribal' from the interior of the highlands – a local term used for people who live in the forests.

Real Dangers
As we trotted off we were advised that we should be careful of snakes on the road ahead. Two weeks ago a snake had bitten a 'planter' (rich farmer). The unfortunate man died, days later, in spasms of agony.
With kites and eagles circling overhead, and the three of us fighting for the middle point of the road (away from the verges), we climbed onto the small tourist haven of Malampuzha - home to the Rock Gardens and Malampuzha Dam. Running through the Saturday afternoon tourists, on the wall of the dam at sunset, was a perfect finish to a close to perfect run. Palakkad will hold a special place in our memories.
Pete

*For further discussion on subjects raised in this article please refer to the Development and Photography section of the Discussion Forum.

Scenes from Kerala

2006-05-16T20:33:00.000Z

A selection of images captured by Desmond Roberts in Permabavur, Aluva and Cherai beach area on 13th and 14th of May 2006.

Day 11

2006-05-14T13:52:00.000Z

11th May 2006
Silent Valley, 20km

Today was always going to be a little bit special from a runner’s perspective as we went deeper into Silent Valley, and so it proved to be. Even Stevie and Sudeep succumbed to the burning desire to join in the run.

Silent Valley is remote, and the further you wind and twist your way into the interior, the more the sense of isolation increases. As does the gut feeling that you are entering an ancient land that deserves and demands respect. I had a persistent mental image of signs I had seen many times before at touristy sites stating, ‘Leave only your footsteps behind.’ One should be humble in the presence of stunning natural beauty and character - share and revel in it, but leave it as undisturbed as on arrival. I then saw a sign that I’d never seen before in India stating that the National Park was a plastic free zone. It brought a satisfied smile to my face.

The serene silence of Silent Valley
Spread over 90 square kilometres the Silent Valley is a virgin forest situated in possibly the least violated, extensive patch of tropical rain forest remaining in the Western Ghats. This relative isolation has allowed for the preservation of fauna and flora in the valley over the 50 million years that is believed to be its evolutionary age. It has survived and flourished and become an important ecological oasis. We all agreed that a ‘then and now’ photographic sequence would probably metamorphose into a 'spot the difference competition' if motorcycles and jeeps were excluded. We did run for a good 10 kilometres before sighting a bus. Making the most of this rare freedom we ran three abreast down the winding valley road.

We passed no one for a considerable distance, which made this run distinctly different. This combined with the breathtaking views down into the valley and of the imposing rock faces that touched the clouds above us lent a feeling of total separation. Then my mobile phone in my backpack went ‘beep-beep’! In the blink of an eye both the technological and natural worlds in which we live collided. In the context of the day it seemed poignant, as here in our modern technological world was an example of a simple and sustainable existence.

We also came face-to-face with what can only be described as the wildest of monsters, foaming at the mouth and with eyes that screamed out, ‘I’m bad, you’re mine, all three of you, bring it on!’ In hindsight it was probably our imagination running wild and it could have been just an inquisitive but fearful wild dog or fox.

People seemingly walk further and we passed women carrying jack fruits and bundles of logs on their head. Home made wooden fences marked the perimeter of houses. Rubber trees grew in abundance and we got a glimpse of the how rubber trees are tapped for the sap – the latex. Trees lined the road with protruding coconut shell cups poised ready to capture the latex after the trunk had been tapped in the morning. The collected latex is then poured into trays, hardened with formic acid and then passed through metal presses to produce a sheet of rubber for the market place. In the era of synthetic rubber, it might appear minimalist, but appeared to be a sustainable source of rubber. Rubber continues to be one of the major crops of Kerala. Wonder what the impact of globalisation has been on this?

An eye on the environment

Consciousness of environment and sustainable development appeared to be everywhere. We passed a sign - ‘Fresh Water is Power, Act Now, You Can Help,’ which served to highlight the awareness that water is a precious commodity that needs protecting in order to secure a prosperous future. Despite being a rain-kissed state, certain parts of this state suffer severe water shortages. An article in today’s newspaper predicted a perhaps welcome early arrival of the monsoon, but also a slightly less than average overall rainfall. The authorities claim that the shortage is negligible, but there should be proper methods to utilise the rainwater without allowing it to flow to the seas. It doesn’t go on to explain what these methods are, or should be.
Into a wall of rain

We were to witness for ourselves this early arrival. The temperature noticeably dropped in an instance. A sudden chill that would have made the hardiest of salty sea dogs batten down the hatches rattled our bones. The sky turned a bizarre luminous tangerine colour and we got the feeling that a natural force was about to be unleashed. Having witnessed the alluring power of pristine nature all day and we were now about to witness another powerful facet of nature. Sand from the road swirled up whipping our legs and peppering our eyes, and bits of trees flew over our shoulders. We felt hesitant and excited at the same time and tried to push on as we felt comfortable and in the zone, but it soon became apparent that the only zone we were in was a slightly uncomfortable, unfamiliar and unsettling heavily atmospheric one. We needed to remove ourselves and let the storm do its business. Ten minutes after entering the safety of the jeep it turned pitch black as sheets of tropical rain descended.

Dan

Day 10

2006-05-14T13:02:00.000Z

10th May 2006

Some where deep in the Silent Valley, close to Tamil Nadu Border.
Distance 18.5km

We had been looking forward to our trip into the hills, hoping that the altitude, fresh air, and tranquillity of life in the Silent Valley would provide some temporary relief from the heat, and the hustle and bustle we have encountered to date.

On arrival at the Hotel Silent Valley we were greeted with flower garlands, coconuts and big smiles. It was to be the start of a special relationship with our hosts. It would not have been out of place if Basil Faulty’s Keralite nephew had been in charge. We were the Hotel's very first guests - in fact, the hotel was not yet officially open. To say the service was attentive would be an understatement. Dan found himself having to try a number of complicated diversion tactics to slip his personal marker and escape to the roof, for a few precious minutes to work on his tan and blonde locks.

Our day’s excursion to Silent Valley was clearly not one we would be embarking on alone. We set off in convey. Our jeep and the hotel staff’s car were adorned with advertising banners. The Hotel, to their credit, was making the most of our visit to promote their new venture.

The Run
The run itself was a real joy and perhaps the best running conditions we have experienced in Kerala, so far. Running in the hills has its down side - what goes down must come up!. Our running guru, Pete told us not to underestimate the hazards of running down hill. The strain on the thighs muscles and knees can be worse than running up hill. Pete went as far as to say that he would rather run up the hill, I was not convinced, but I was not going to question the man who had got me this far.
There were less people, more space, a beautiful meandering river, fresh air, an amazing mountain and a soothing cool breeze in our faces. We were in running heaven.

Throughout the last two days of running, I had felt my legs were getting tired, taking longer and longer to run the stiffness and aches out of my muscles. Despite this and the fact that I had done over a marathon in the last three days, I felt strangely strong. I think running in the evening had given my weary legs a little more time to recuperate.

Village Volleyball
Our only stop was at a village volleyball game that we were invited to join. After a while, a sizeable crowd gathered to watch the spectacle. After a few friendly introductions,warm up shots and volleys, and we were into the real business. Heels on fire with the help of Peter (number 2) and local hero, Abdul emerged victorious, winning five sets to one. After a quick group photo with the players and spectators, we hit the scenic trail again

Religious Harmony
On the road, we discussed how our volleyball compatriots had a mixture of Muslim, Hindu and Christian names. Different religious groups appear to coexist in harmony. This seemed apparent in every village and town that we had passed through. A little down the road, we saw a statue of Jesus and Mary built directly opposite a mosque. Perhaps, a divine confirmation of our views.

We soaked up all the richness of nature that the Silent Valley had to offer. Late in the day a tractor full of mangoes sped by us. The man sitting on the trailer kindly rolled two mangoes on to the road as they passed. We gave hot pursuit to the mangoes as they gathered pace down the hill and but collected our prized with a few manoeuvres that would have done Jonty Rhodes proud. We ran the last few kilometres with a spring in our step and felt like we could go on forever. In the end, Dez called a halt to proceedings as it was dark and not safe to run. It was the right thing to do but there was no denying our sadness to realise that a very special day of running had come to an end. Our expectations of the Silent Valley had not been misplaced.

Today felt like another big day in my short running career. If you had told me just a month ago that I would run 20 kms one day and then 18.5 kms the next, I would have laughed. It has not taken long to build up the fitness and strength needed for such a run. While it has not been physically painless, I must say the biggest barriers have been in my own head.

Rahul

Day 9

2006-05-11T21:12:00.000Z

Malappuram to Perinthalmanna

Pete 21kms
Dan 19 kms,
Rahul 15 kms

In a manoeuvre more suited to the end of an epic night out, we decided to run before dawn had cast her first shadows. We passed a staggering drunk intent on engaging us in conversation and the first signs of people going about their daily chores. My legs felt hung over from the previous days strain and my body felt battered from the torrent of abuse unknown to my limbs.

It was a pleasure to have Rocket (as Dan is fondly known) running with us. The same cannot be said for the company of the sleeping dogs lining the roadsides. The solemn words of a wise man who once said "we should let them lie" echoed in our heads, prompting us to gently tip- toe by, hoping not to disturb their sweet dreams of juicy calves.

We had arranged to meet Shafeeq a bright 15 year old boy from a village 10km down the road. In spite of having an Arabic exam at 7.00am Shafeeq was determined to join us to run a couple of kilometres on the way. Shafeeq had told us the day before that his father worked in Dubai, and we promptly jumped to a conclusion that his father must be quite wealthy. Shafeeq had a matter of fact approach and told us flatly how it was a common misconception and that his father made just enough to enable him and his family to get on by. We asked him if he would be interested in moving to a big Indian city like Delhi and avail the work opportunities available there, but Shafeeq had a determined mind and said he'd much rather live out his life ambition and become a school teacher in his home town.

I slowly trudged on, and found the going tough with my running companions drifting into the distance. Having no one to push you on makes the psychological battle that much harder. On the bright side, I welcomed an opportunity to learn how far I was able to push myself alone.

Our driver, Aji, appeared from a side road and gestured towards a path less travelled. I was hesitant on being informed by man next to me that the other two runners had gone on ahead up the road. I decided to follow Aji, although I realised that it might be the last I saw of Pete and Dan for the rest of the run. The run away off the main road was breathtaking. Very quickly the surroundings around me changed, the prosperity was less obvious, and the look on peoples faces a little more engaged in their own work.

Two kilometres up the road we came upon a village called Angadipuram, where I found Des, Sudeep & Stevie surrounded by a group of people. There was no sign of Pete and Dan; they had clearly missed the turn. Aji got into his jeep and went off in search of our two musketeers. We could not wait any longer our man- Shafeeq had an exam to get to, so I set off running with Shafeeq and two of his friends, stopping at a house to get some water from a well, then on up the hillside path, past a rock that looked like an elephant and onwards to his school. Des was picking his way up the hillside like a mountain goat with his trusted Nikon in hand. I was finding it hard work struggled to keep up not realising that time was running faster than us, and then there promptly at 0655 hrs Shafeeq flashed a smile to say goodbye and made off with a speed that left me -a dot on the horizon in his wake.

Santhosh, a 19 year old friend of Shafeeq, who continued with me in my struggle, told me how he had been forced to stop studying when he was 16 in order to earn an income for his family. His three siblings had died when they were very young and as the sole surviving child it was his responsibility to look after his elderly parents. He had plans to learn to drive. Des asked if this was in order to quit his construction work? “No! No!” He had no intention of stopping one job to start another, it merely made sense to him to have another skill and opportunity for work. There was no sense of this story being told with a feeling of self pity nor did I have any feeling of pity for him. On the contrary, I felt a real sense of respect for Santhosh. A young man taking control of the environment and circumstance within which he lives.
The day finished with Dan having backtracked looking for me, and Pete reaching a different town through a wooded patch. Some three hours later we all came back together to deconstruct on the confusion that had ensued. Lessons were learned about keeping together and in contact with each other. A story about a tortoise and a hare passed through my mind and a smile slowly crept comfortably across my face.

Rahul

Thrissur Pooram – The Mother of all Poorams

2006-05-10T17:25:00.000Z

7th May 06

Rest Day
Thrissur

We leapt ahead of our planned running route to take in the sights and sounds of the 'Thrissur Pooram' (meaning festival), Kerala's grandest and best-known temple festival. Thrissur is the cultural capital of Kerala. As a city, it comes across as unassuming and dusty, however it's grandeur emerges head and shoulders above many other towns each year in May during the Thrissur Pooram.

Not really knowing what to expect is probably the best way to approach such a Pooram. The little I did know about the Thrissur Pooram was that it was chaotic and that it is considered the 'Mother of all Poorams in Kerala'.

I also knew that the fireworks show had been cancelled this year. Kerala' s state and district newspapers (of which there are many) have been running stories about the dangers of easily flammable homemade fireworks, often exploding in the day’s heat. Indeed seven people had died in a fireworks related accident on the 5th May.

So the Heels on Fire team headed off decked in sun hats, sun cream and laden with water and cameras. Arriving into Thrissur, we were received by an officious police sergeant who set about asserting his authority until Des turned the situation and charmed his way through the red tape allowing us to park relatively close to the temple.

We walked on the first traffic free roads yet, and what a pleasure it was to be free of constantly having to look out of the corner of your eye for buses, 'Hero Honda' motorbikes and bright yellow rickshaws beeping their piercing horns. Masses of people were milling around everywhere. They were wearing the standard cardboard visors, at times somewhat comically (but very wisely) - one worn as normal and another at the back of the head covering the neck. The vast majority were furiously fanning themselves in the heat. We were slowly melting.

It didn't take long to find some elephants. There they were, the kings and queens of the day basking in the shadows of Banyan trees (one tree per elephant). Caretakers milled around them, pampering and scrubbing them with buckets of water and hand feeding them vast bundles of food.

Whilst looking in wonderment at these fantastic animals I had the good fortune to meet two brothers, Prasad and Prakash Cherpu. Both are full time IT solutions experts and part-time elephant enthusiasts. They were highly knowledgeable about the festival. I learned more from Prasad and Prakash than any guidebook that I had come across.

Elephants - Revered and Beautiful
The brothers gave Rahul and I a tour d' horizon of life and times of an Indian elephant. Did you know the male elephants, which are many more than females in Kerala are called ‘tuskers’? Often they live to ripe ages of 60 or even 70 years. The gestation period - the duration of an elephant’s pregnancy is 22 months. A healthy female elephant can give birth to an average of seven calves in their lifetime. Believe it or not, Kerala has special medical institutions with qualified doctors, veterinarians, handlers and even an insurance scheme for elephants! Despite the fact that elephants are competitively judged, there are no breeding programmes. Indeed most elephants in Kerala are either brought in from Tamil Nadu, or they 'simply come out of the forests' as one moustached gentleman told me.

During the festival the elephants are judged on a number of criteria: the size and shape of their ears (the larger the better); their colour (the darker the better); the number of toe nails (18 or 20 toenails being good to perfection, 17 being ok and 19 being inauspicious); the size of the head; and of course the shape and curvature of the tusks. A beautiful elephant may well perform at between 100-120 festivals of varying sizes throughout the year. Their food will be provided for by each of the festival organisers. I gathered that Prakash and Prasad were keen to see one elephant in particular – one they had heard of but had never seen. Ervaputta Ayappan named after his home village was coming to head the elephant procession for the day. His reputation and beauty preceded him.

So we ventured deep into the temple complex, all six acres of it. According the unwritten records this was either the 201st or 202nd year of the Thrissur Pooram. We walked to the eastern corner of the complex to be confronted by an amazing sight of wall of bare-chested musicians carrying medieval style instruments (horns, clarinets and drums). They stood in front of a line of 15 Elephants dressed in gold, red and luminescent finery. Atop each of the elephants stood three men in orange dhoti's, at various times holding a long poled amazing colourful parasol and yak hair pom-pom. There was a wall of sound as the musicians beat and wailed their way into frenzy. Amidst the noise and movement, the elephants stood calmly. The leader of the pack at the centre of the line was Ervaputta Ayappan. He looked huge and majestic, and somewhat beautiful even to the untrained eye. There is no doubt that Ervaputta Ayappan knew he was the king of the day!

So the Pooram was celebrated in its traditional magnificence and splendour with a series of military like movements and processions that culminated in a battlefield scene reminiscent of Waterloo. Two rows of brightly decked elephants stood in long lines facing each other from a distance of 150-200 metres. The eclectic musicians (or Marars as they are known) banged their drums in front of their elephant generals. In the space between the two mighty forces, a mass of what looked and felt like some 50,000 – 100,000 people shook their hands in the air with increasingly frenzied excitement (the ancient Indian technique of head-banging). Those atop the elephants regularly changed their increasingly enchanting and colourful umbrellas (different umbrellas are made by different villages). With each changeover the music built, the crowds got louder and the atmosphere intensified. It built and built to a crescendo worthy of Mozart. Bodies writhed, sweat spilled and umbrella manoeuvred, and then just at the crescendo, it all pulled back from the abyss.

Never in my all my years on earth have I ever seen such a sight. Throughout the day, all of our mouths remained agape at the sights on offer. Our senses rolled and shimmied in delight. Truly the Thrissur Pooram is a sight to behold and experience. I recommend it to each and every one of you.

Post Script
The religious meaning behind the festival is worthy of another article. I hope that the images and descriptions do some justice to the Thrissur Pooram before that article is completed.

Pete

Day 8

2006-05-09T16:08:00.000Z

8th May 2006
Kulathur to Malappuram, 21km

(An account by Dan Inman who has joined the heels on fire team in Kerala for a couple of weeks)

Picture the scene: a spacious hotel room with twin beds, a television in the corner, a fan furiously spinning on the ceiling seemingly ready to detach itself and commit GBH, an air conditioning unit going nine to the dozen on the outer wall, an eclectic collection of running equipment strewn over the room, and me, sitting on my bed in a pair of shorts with the tube from my hydration pack stuck in my mouth like a drip. And it's nearly 7 o'clock in the evening! I'm not setting the scene in search of sympathy; I do it because this is the reality of life in pre-monsoon Kerala. According to some of the local people I have encountered already, it's not even hot yet! It may not be hot in terms of actual degrees Celsius, but someone has definitely stolen the wind leaving just an oppressive, almost eerie stillness. It’s humidity maximised and it's the conditions in which everyday life continues to rumble on, and in most cases without such luxuries as an air conditioning unit.
This may account for many of the bewildered looks that are a memory of my first day of running with the heels on fire collective. My favourite one being the motorcyclist staring in such bemusement that his visor snapped shut as if triggered by the thoughts coming from within the helmet. Moments like these raise a smile and are a welcome distraction from your increasingly heavy legs and the cravings to drink a reservoir. Just as when Dez stopped us to have our photo taken with a couple of young boys and girls. Later to be informed by Dez that the girls were the brave ones who had agreed to share the limelight with members of the opposite sex. There is a spirit of curiosity and fun here and I would love to be a fly on the wall to some of the discussions after we have dripped on by.
This was my first day of running with Pete and Rahul and I had been looking forward to it with cautious glee. Even the alarm call at 4.30am was bearable. This comment will doubtless be retracted after a couple more days! Having only flown in yesterday I was grateful for the couple of hours of kip I had managed to grab in a hammock before being rudely awoken by water poured over my head. Really, where are the manners nowadays?! We drove to Kulathur, selected a suitable starting point, fuelled up our camel packs and headed into the unknown. Three hours and 21 kilometres later we arrived in a now awake and bustling Malappuram. Personally I had no idea it was possible to sweat so much in the wee small hours of the morning, but it is! Along the way we were privileged to witness a magical and mystical scene of a mist smothered expanse of coconut trees, play a brief game of football with some kids, and sample a locally grown jackfruit.
It’s jackfruit season and Ismail, a sprightly 58-year old jackfruit trader happily treated us to one of his finest. A ripe jackfruit is massive and can weigh anything over 4 kgs. It is harvested by carrying it down the tall and often broad trees. It is carried down or lowered gently with a rope as to drop it would ruin the fruit. I'm sure there is a local age old, tried and tested harvesting technique. However, when you look up to a jackfruit hanging precariously off the tree it doesn't take a genius to acknowledge that it would be quite some feat of strength and agility. A decent jackfruit is relatively inexpensive to a Keralite where they can be found in abundance, but apparently if you head out of Kerala you could be in for a price shock.
I absolutely enjoyed my first day with the heels on fire brigade. After really having to push out the last couple of kilometres I am under no illusions about the magnitude of this physical challenge. The heat and humidity do things to your body, unpredictable things, even a reversal of what I was expecting. I also can't wait to get deeper into Kerala life and already know that there is a treat in store for tomorrow ( and it's not the 5am start!)
Dan

Stevie in a Planet called India

2006-05-09T16:07:00.000Z

I've been in India just over one week now, although it feels like a whole lot longer since I left home to go to Heathrow airport to meet up with Rahul and Pete. Then, I didn't know what to expect and was rather relieved that they ended up on the same flight as me, as the angst of arriving in an unknown country, to a language and people I knew very little of, was massively daunting. That, mixed with tales of diarrhoea and general food and water (don't drink the water they say, easier said than done says I) issues all added up to quite a few concerns.
Since arriving, and I know it’s only been a week, I am starting to really like what little I have seen of India. It is very different to home. But of course there are similarities: people are still people. They have to work and generally they try and get on with it. Also big business reaches everywhere, you can find nearly any product here that you can at home (N. Ireland), except white pudding and Irish soda farls. You are still bombarded with advertising, except here, I don't always know what its for. The occasional encounters with a well-used men's urinal or engulfing odour of an open sewer have caught me off guard.
The drive to the first hotel was monumental, it rendered me exhausted, though I still managed to get up in 6 hours time to commence the day’s work, a desire to unearth the undiscovered, wins out over fatigue. The first day was a busy one and one were I really started to see India and the people. They were all curious and interested to know where I came from. A handshake is always offered. And although the language barrier can make me feel like a fool, a smile and a thumbs up never fails to convey a happy greeting, even from a distance.
The roads came as quite a surprise and although I was aware that they were busy, I had no idea that they were as unruly as they are. Buses in particular are like speeding death juggernauts hell bent on getting to where they are going at high velocity and on whichever side of the road is the most convenient. I don't think they are particularly worried about smashing me to bits and leaving my open mind on display in the dirt by the side of the But I dare say, if you ignore the murderous drivers, most people you come across are very nice.
In general the heat humidity particularly so down here in Kerala, has taken me by surprise. I've never sweated so much in my life. The salty fluid bleeds into my eyes and stings with a pain that makes me ask why God put a sensitive organ like the eye so close to the sweaty patch on my forehead?
The food has been a delight, I've always enjoyed a korma or something suitably mild, but the spice explosion that awaited me wasn't as troublesome as I had feared – in fact I'm really enjoying it. Even the 'beef fry’, which has become the stuff of lore on our merry jaunt has graced my pallet and danced across it like a little meat ballerina. The only food issue I have is curry for breakfast, as I'm just too set in my toast and cereal ways to start tucking into spicy breakfasts before my mouth has had a chance to adjust to the day.
All in all the trip is proving an eye opener, and a truly enjoyable one at that and I am looking forward to all that lies in wait.

Stevie

Day 6

2006-05-08T22:33:00.000Z

6th May 2006

Day 6 (Run Day 5)
Cheruthuruthy to Vadakanchery – 13Kms

The Heat Wave Strikes!
With a heat wave sweeping though most of India, we began our run with trepidation and fear. It was the hottest day so far hitting 100 F (and in Delhi, the hottest day in 5 years!). Having travelled the six hours from Thallasserry to Cheruthuruthy, we were running in the evening when surprisingly it gets hotter and even more humid. To add to our concerns, we had just feasted on one too many curries and far too many barotas (the local equivalent of a roti - only fluffier and tastier!). We seriously misjudged our meal timings. In running terms, this could mean trouble.

Father-of-Bride scouts foreign groom?
One of the major sights that lured our interest was a beautiful gate/ archway being constructed made of coloured cloth and bright lights. A proud father and son were busy make preparations for a family wedding later in the day. Amazingly, they were not too busy to invite us in for a drink. How many people on their daughter’s wedding day would take the time to invite two sweaty foreign runners for a drink into their house a few hours before the big day?

New Styles, New Scars
There were a lot more hills on the run today. And the climb was hard work. The heat was draining but once again at the hour of need, Pete had some words of advice. “Own the hill” a voice chirped in my ear… “Dominate it”. I was thankful that Des, Sudeep and Stevie were not around to witness the struggle. Particularly since I had developed a new running style intended to protect my knee from further injury but only resulted in clipping my left ankle with my right heel. An interesting sight! As I saw my white sock turn red, I felt like I was now truly engaged in the epic struggle. Thoughts of Terry Butcher in the 1990 world cup, his bandaged head soaked with blood, came to mind. Perhaps somewhat fantastical but it were these mind games that kept the body going.

The “Bathroom Tile Shop Per Capita” Index
With the sun still burning down on us we took every opportunity to stop and chat with people along the way. Many of the villages we have passed have houses of a scale and prosperity that were not as I had expected. With at least one member who is working in the Middle East, or in other parts the world, the remittances sent home seem to provide the foundations for seemingly affluent lifestyles. I wonder whether the tobacco, coconuts, bananas and fishing industries here can also generate this kind of grandeur. And something else I didn’t expect; I have never seen so many tile and bathroom shops anywhere in the world!

The Sights and Sounds...
Later that day, the sun was slowly taking pity on us (as were the fish curry and barotas!). We hit the most beautiful terrain yet. Rolling hills, lush green fields and bright red soil. A train track ran by us with long, loud and colourful trains passing us by with a loud hoot before disappearing over the bridge. Trains are truly the veins of India.

At the end of another day, the heat has taken its toll and I am struggling I am a little worried that I am holding Pete up from surging ahead. But when a group of kids see us coming and shout for us to join them for a game of football, I must admit, he seemed as happy as I to stop.
Rahul

Football in Vadakancherry

2006-05-08T16:19:00.000Z

06th May 2006
Day 6

Rahul and I were merrily bobbing down the road making our way past a playground that seemed to accommodate both cricket and football. A group of curious boys stopped playing and called out to us to come and join them. Earlier in the run we had climbed down a ditch and up and over the railway line to chat with another group of boys who had wanted us to come to their village to play cricket. Tempted as we were, we declined that offer as the sun was at its zenith and we had a long way to go. India, they say is, consumed by cricket, but here fate presented us with an opportunity to play football (we realised later that Kerala is more football crazy than cricket mad). It took no more than an exchange of head wiggles (Kerala style) between Rahul and I to take up the challenge.

The small group of ten grew to fifteen and then perhaps to twenty five. Tired and hot as we were, Rahul re-found his silky football skills bedazzling all and sundry. The penalty shoot out was followed by a sprinting competition which was followed by an exchange of dialogue that would not be unsimiliar to a park discussion amongst boys anywhere else in the world. The kids wanted to be football or cricket stars. Everyone supported Brazil, but knew about the English captain, David Beckham. They knew the football results and players better than we did. They teased one of the boys about being a rickshaw driver. Clearly their true aspirations were all quite high.

A slightly older guy wandered up to Rahul and I, calmly introducing himself as Suresh. He looked cool in the heat with his striking green shirt, necklace, ear-ring and long haired good looks. Suresh is twenty-two years old. He explained that he was unemployed (an epidemic that seemed to plague the youth of Kerala) and confronting the dilemma of whether to leave Kerala to follow others in his family working overseas (Dubai was his option) or stay on and look for work here. He seemed to loathe the idea of leaving Kerala in search of work. Reading between the lines he was perhaps even a little frustrated by his situation but determined to find a way out.

Should he follow the well-beaten path of so many other Keralites, or would it be possible to stay and work in Kerala? Suresh's zest for life and willingness to want to make it in Kerala were an indication of the spell this beautiful countryside and its quality of life has on its people.

Alas, we had to leave the team behind. We truly appreciated the vignette of fun and insight at the end of a hot and hilly run.

Pete

The Coconut Sellers

2006-05-07T20:05:00.000Z

Day 5
5th May 2006, Malapuram

Poverty reduction and raising the standards of India's poor sits high on India's development agenda. In a vast country with a population of over one billion people an estimated 25% are said to be living below the poverty line i.e. on less that USD$1 per day.

Malapuram is a district in Kerala which stretches from the Arabian sea on the west to the Tamil Nadu border on the east. Malapuram struck me as being blessed with an abundance of farming land. It is touted as being the first 100% e-literate district in the country. It is said that at least one member from every household is working overseas, virtually all of whom will be sending remittances back to their families. Life in this district is an odd contrast of affluence and wealth amidst a back drop of poverty.

Whilst driving along the road in the hot mid-day sun we chanced upon a wide corner on the road distinctly marked by three coconut stands. We were thirsty, it was hot, so we stopped.

We met Valmana Prasad, a man in his early forties with a healthy glow, seven children and the proud owner of the three coconut stands. In two swift and deft chops of a dangerous looking machete he managed to pierce the top of a coconut for us to drink. The water from the green coconut was remarkably sweet. When the coconut water was finished Valmana took the coconut back and with unbelievable ease split the coconut in two and and offered us the tender inner-flesh to savour. Needless to say the flesh which was soft and slippery was much to my palate's delight.

Valmana buys 100 coconuts per day for each of the three stands (he runs one and his oldest sons, Prasad and Kuttypuram run the other two). Each coconut is sold for ten rupees, having no doubt bought them in the market, for say half that price. Whilst Kuttypuram (aged 23) bears the dark scars on the inside of his wrists and ankles from years of climbing coconut trees (he told me he could shimmy up a tall tree in four minutes), the family chooses to buy the coconuts from others. This was a carefully worked out business plan, having weighed the time and labour inputs required against the profits generated. Careful calculations lead them to prefer to source the coconuts rather than grow them or for that matter any other vegetables or fruits. Valmana's father had farmed rice, but like many in Kerala, he decided to move from a low yielding and labour intensive food crop to selling a more profitable cash crop - coconut.

Together they seemed to do well in the coconut business. All were fit and well. Clearly each generation was moving with the times. Like his father, who had decided to find a more rewarding alternative livelihood, Prasad (aged 16) too, was aiming to do a course in computers and was working to maintain a good academic record in addition to helping out with the family business. One of Valmana's three daughters was married, but she is also pursuing a bachelor's degree in arts (BA). Valmana Prasad was a proud man. He had his sons at his side and he was more than happy to explain his craft and trade to us.

Apart from the eldest, none of the family was e-literate, but there were certain lofty and attainable aspirations to do well. Selling around 300 coconuts a day, seven days a week at a busy corner in the road certainly made for a modest income and what appeared to a casual traveller like me to be a happy life.

Pete

Heels on Fire Go Running with a Legend

2006-05-06T22:46:00.000Z

Afternoon 4th May 2006
2.5kms
Imagine the scene. It's 1984 and you are laid on the floor of your family living room watching the Los Angeles Olympics on television. Carl Lewis, Daley Thompson and Sebastian Coe are setting the world alight with super human performances. Gazing at the screen the mind of one 11 year old was opened to an amazing international world of different shapes, sizes, colours and creeds. Above all other events and people, one event captured my heart and imagination. It was the women's 400 metre hurdles.
That fateful day, PT Usha, a twenty year old woman from a small village called Payoli in Northern Kerala (affectionately known as the Payoli Express) missed out on a bronze medal by one hundredth of a second (less than the blink of an eye). I clearly recall being sat with my father watching and sharing 56 glorious seconds with PT Usha and India. I consequently spent that summer and many subsequent summers idolising my new found sporting heroine.

All these years later, at the age of 32 I found myself nervously dialling PT Usha's telephone number from central London. A flash of genius had passed through a friend's mind that we should try to link the Heels on Fire run with an Indian athlete. PT Usha had sprung to mind, and out of the network of amazing people involved in this project, PT Usha's website, number and email address had found its way to me. The phone rang and PT Usha answered.
Less than two weeks later the five of us were decked out in our Reebok sponsored Heels on Fire tee-shirts, shorts, socks and shoes driving in silence to meet the Payolli express. We asked strangers where PT Usha lived. Everyone knew where and everyone went out of their way to help. I rang the door bell and in a flash a boyhood dream came true.
Usha welcomed us into her home with a glowing smile and warm eyes. I was in awe as she took me into her living room. Looking to my right at the stairway I spotted pictures of PT Usha with Carl Lewis, Mother Theresa, Rajiv and Indira Gandhi. The length of the wall on my left was a floor to ceiling gallery of medals of the living legend of India and Asia. At the far end of the room was a stunningly beautiful picture of Usha posing in a tracksuit, with 102 gold medals around her neck.
We all sat together and spent some time talking through the idea behind Heels on Fire and the network of people working behind the scenes and around the world. I spoke of the purpose behind the run, about my own background and about the rest of the team. Never have I felt more like a fake than when I described my own running history and my pathetically uncompetitive times. Nonetheless, we could not have been made to feel more welcome. All of us had stars in our eyes, even Aji, the driver bounced up and down from outside the gates to catch a glimpse.

The TV cameras were set up, the microphones attached and I entered into my first ever TV interview with PT Usha, Indian sprint representative at four Olympics (Moscow in 1980 – aged 16, Los Angeles in 1984, Seoul in 1988 and Atlanta in 1996), winner of multiple gold medals and holder of many records in the Asian games. If that's not enough PT was awarded the Asian athlete of the year on no less than five occasions. Asia has never had a more successful field and track athlete.
An hour of interview rolled by in a flash. We were all amazed by Usha's story and how she made it to the world stage as a raw athlete with little scientific or focused training and no exposure whatsoever to the world stage. Imagine being sixteen years old and running overseas for the first time, on an synthetic track (for the first time) – at the Moscow Olympics. Imagine being a girl from a small rural village in a country that focuses on few sports other than cricket and hockey. In terms of running, career and life Usha gave us a tour d' horizon through her experiences (she has travelled to 87 countries) as an athlete and as an ambassador. I was truly humbled.

As we wound up the interview, Usha turned to me and said that we should now meet the girls from her School (the PT Usha School of Athletics). Through force of personality and a lot of hard work PT and her equally amazing husband Srinivasan have managed to set up a school for elite athletes from all over Kerala. Hundred of students compete for places. Usha searches for raw talent (no doubt similar to her own as a 12 year old), she speaks with the parents, identifies characteristics through lengthy training camps and ultimately nurtures the girls (at the moment it is all female – but major plans are afoot for expansion) into well-rounded and extremely competitive athletes.
So we drove together to the nearby district sports council stadium in Koilandi. We were received by a throng of young athletes, smartly dressed in their tracksuits, beaming and ready to run. Along with Usha we carried out a number of newspaper interviews before setting off on a loop of the dirt track inside the stadium. The extended line of runners looked impressive in their red and green Heels on Fire tee-shirts. We laughed and joked finding our stride. Despite the run earlier that morning I felt no tiredness whatsoever in my legs. Exiting the stadium onto the main street of Koilandi we passed a statue of Gandhi. Momentarily I wondered what he would make of the passing runners – I think he would approve.
As we ran we attracted more and more attention. Traffic stopped, heads popped out of windows, photojournalists huffed and puffed, horns honked and everyone joined in for two kilometres of carnival atmosphere. Avoiding the traffic we ran side by side in twos. I chatted with Usha just the same as I would with any other runner. We talked about training, food, hydration, running friends, Kerala, her son, cricket, Mother Theresa and the Heels on Fire's development objectives of reaching out to and facilitating developing interaction between vast networks of like-minded people. About how the run is a simple conduit to tell the stories of the people we meet along the road between Kazargod and Kanyakumari. Usha was extremely enthusiastic about what we were doing. She said that she thought that more young people should have the courage to do similar things.
It was a sad to say goodbye, but the girls had been running in the morning and the scrum of people around us blocking the road had become too much. The police were looking stressed. As we parted Usha wished us good luck for the future. She said she admired what we were doing and we exchanged a hug. I received a whiskey sized bottle of honey from Usha's small farm. She said that two teaspoons a day would keep me strong. It had helped Usha to her success over the years, and so the 2 litre bottle might help me to mine.

As we drove away my mind was racing, trying to comprehend the last few hours. I had met a childhood hero, a strong and extremely articulate woman who had truly defied the odds. A true role model for us all. Through endeavour, hard work and sheer determination, a girl from a small rural village had become a global track star and a sporting ambassador. She had mad her dream come true, just as I had mine. The 11 year old boy inside me smiled contentedly. The 32 year old grinned mercilessly. Heels on Fire had gained the endorsement and support of one of the biggest sporting personalities in India and Asia.

Day 4

2006-05-05T21:58:00.000Z

4th May 2006
Muzhapilangadu to Punnal
17kms

Coastal Life
The cruel chimes of the alarm clock shook us after just five hours of sleep between midnight and dawn. With a flurry of movements, we made our way to Muzhapilangadu, an idyllic coastal village on the Arabian Sea. Whilst the golden sand was soft and taxing under foot the majesty of the beach flooded the senses. The road ahead felt different, with Rahul running along today and my legs feeling stronger and more accustomed to the road.

Within five minutes of running we had seen a cross section of the coastal life. There was a plethora of birds - lanky herons, elegant cranes and a Red Wattled Lapwing. There was a stout man wearing a mundu (cloth) like a nappy, carrying out energetic yoga contortions. In the distance, I saw a woman balancing a bundle of driftwood on her head. Further along the beach, a team of fishermen were pulling a vast net through the shore break in cadence. The net teemed with an array of hand-sized fish that would make it to the roadside stalls as the day wore on. Stevie, a fisherman of repute could do little to contain himself, wading into the water with the camera to capture the action.

Lazy pace
Slowly, the sun rose above the trees. My heart raced and the sweat began to run. I rued the fact that we had again started later than we had hoped. The pace of morning life around us was brisk but yet strangely leisurely. Des hurried from the vehicle to buy a bunch of bananas. He politely urged the vendor to hurry the sale, as we had to press on. We all laughed at his tale of how his request for speedy assistance was ignored politely. The bananas were slowly weighed on ancient scales, placed in a sheet of newspaper, which was folded carefully around the bunch before meticulously gift-wrapping it with cord. The point was made in the subtlest manner - how could anyone possible be in such a hurry in Kerala? The pace of life befits the surroundings and the climate. Business is ever efficient but never from a perspective of more business equals more sales.

With our heels on fire and having lost contact with the support team, Rahul and I met a woman with a baby. The baby’s eyes were clouded with illness. It was the first sign of ill health that we had come across. We passed through the friendliest village to date. Old and young, male and female stepped out of their shops and working lives to insist shaking hands and making convivial conversation. The feeling was truly uplifting. There were roadside stalls selling fish, sacks of vegetables (cucumbers the size of my arm), coconuts, palm leaves, coconut twine, coconut oil, coconut coir and baskets of betel-nut leaves.

Uphill struggle
We passed an old man pulling a bicycle cart of firewood up the hill that we had run down. It made sense to help and together we put our legs and backs into pushing the cart up the hill. My quads and calf muscles were burning as we leaned into the hill. It occurred to me that this ‘cart puller’ could well have been doing this work without complaint over the course of miles and miles. He was aided by neither electrolyte mixes nor good running shoes. With a massive exchange of toothy grins we said goodbye and continued in the sun. We are getting quite good at it too.

Playtime
About 13kms into the run we were really beginning to enjoy the surroundings. A stream of kids ran from a mosque to join us for a few minutes of running and chatting. A group of burkha-clad girls ran ahead, giggling with intrigue at the sight of two men with foreign legion hats and strange backpacks with tubes. We soon happened upon a village Carom tournament. Carom is a table version of pool using draught pieces. It is a game which Rahul and I both pride ourselves on as being pretty good at. Soon places at the table were cleared and the mighty Rahul Noble Singh and I were paired up in opposing teams. Rahul teamed with Arvind, a youngster with a tight tee shirt, a flicking style unlike any other and ability to block out the interference of me blowing in his ear. I was paired with another village lad, Mahesh, who had Bollywood looks and body language (each shot was finished with a look to the heavens and a dance). As the tension grew so did the number of spectators. Soon we were playing in front of an amphitheatre of over 25 men, women and children. Not that the result is important…but for the record Mahesh and I won by a whisker. Rahul would get his revenge later at an impromptu cricket match.

The day ended in a town called Punnal, with us sat under a Banyan tree chatting about London with a man in an STD booth. (STD in India stands for Subscribers Trunk Dialling and not sexually transmitted disease!). A truly fun run of 17 kilometres brightened beyond belief by the people and stories along the route.

And in the afternoon Heels on Fire ran with PT USHA, the most famous woman athlete from India or Asia! More about that tomorrow.

Pete

Day 3

2006-05-04T14:40:00.000Z

Wednesday 3rd May 2006
Sri Rajareshwara Temple, Taliparamba - Kattampally River, Kannur
20 Km Run

A call to prayer
The alarm bell at 6 a.m. was like an aneurysm rather than a wake up call. Lifting my heavy legs out of bed, I hoped today would be cooler. It didn't take long for Kerala to knock us from our slumber. The breathtaking Kattampally River with its shadowy mangroves, flora and nesting weaver birds stirred energy in us. If that wasn't enough spiritual awakening, by 7 a.m. we were standing outside the Sri Rajareshwara Temple. It was a humbling experience to be standing before this 10th Century building, which is still very much in every day divine use.
Riding along
With Rahul now on bicycle, we wove our way through narrow alleyways, up hills, through dirt tracks, warming with each head-tilt and wave. If you have never seen an Indian 'head-wobble' you are missing out. The 'wobble' means all things good; it is a 'hello', it’s encouragement, but most of all it's a gesture of warmth.

Moving faces
10 km’s passed in a flash. We saw a white haired man struggling to walk along the road, his face intensely concentrated on each flip-flopped step. As we approached him his look of consternation broke into the Mother of all smiles (another 32-teeth-special). He must have been 90 years old. He looked serene and wise beyond his age. His thick white hair combed tidily, his face stubbled, and the lines across his brow and around his eyes deep with years of laughter. In endurance running, a face like this sits in your mind for miles, carrying you forward.

Pit stops: Kerala style
15 kilometres in and a man at a roadside stall called us over for a banana. We munched our way through a tasty finger-sized banana, tried to pay (he refused) and moved on.
At a road-bridge over a vast stretch of water we stopped with a father and son who were long-line fishing off the bridge. Armed with little more that a piece of chapatti (flatbread) dough, and hooks, they dipped their line some 30-40 feet in the water, probably fishing for today’s food. The simplicity with which so much of the world’s people live their lives was striking.

The knowledge run
The backdrop to the day’s running was the State Elections, a gaudy hammer and sickle affair, heavily policed by helmeted officers in olive green uniforms. The roads were painted with various emblems and slogans. One man eloquently informed me that voting was his pleasure, and more importantly his right. It is rare that Keralites do not vote. This is a land in which everyone reads newspapers. Dez came across a group of rickshaw drivers at 7.30 a.m. in the morning who had read an article that morning on the HOF run! They all knew what was going on, and they were all interested to know more. The Keralite and Indian mind is intuitively an inquisitive one.

‘Running man’, ‘Running man’
With four kilometres to go a group of kids came pouring out of a doorway shouting 'Running man', 'Running man'. High fives, and 100 metres were exchanged.

My legs were heavy, my head hot but, all in all, a fantastic day where I slowly began to open my eyes to the world around me.

Pete

Day 2

2006-05-03T15:40:00.000Z

Tuesday 2nd May 2006
Nileswaram to Trikkaripur

Departing from our hotel in Bekkal for the starting point in Nileswaram this morning I had a real sense of dread. I had been carrying a heatstroke-headache from the previous evening – even though we had run in the late afternoon. Deep down I knew I wasn't feeling the best. I also saw Rahul looking forlorn and knew his knee was going to hold him back. I would seriously miss his company.

Nileswaram at 6am epitomises any other Indian town or city at this time of day. People mingle quietly in bus stops and tea dhaba's (small makeshift shops). The women wear (and look extremely elegant) in brightly coloured saris. The men wear the traditional mundu - a long piece of well-woven cloth with coloured border that is wrapped around the waist. Formally it is worn to the ankles. Informally it is folded above the knee. Either way it makes more sense than the clothing of a distance runner.

Within minutes of running I was receiving head tilts of bemusement and calls of 'where are you headed'? The understated head-waves (emanating from a waist high point) got me smiling as I jogged along a road fringed with coconut trees and fiery coloured flora. The sun was rising fast. My headache was pounding. Vulture like birds circled overhead. After 4kms or so I climbed my first major hill. Feeling really rough I staggered to the side of the road and managed to throw up the contents of my stomach. Just as I was finishing up the second time the team came around the corner in the 4 x 4. Thankfully they missed filming the worst of it. There is an ongoing challenge where Desmond, Sudeep and Stevie are determined to catch all of the nasty hardships of the run, whilst Rahul and I are keen not to look too much like fools.

A pat on the back and a big smile from Rahul got me back on the way. Strangely I felt so much better, and a bit lighter. Avoiding buses and waving at people kept me going for another 5kms or so. I began to take in the smells, sights and sounds around me: the smell of early morning cooking fires and jasmine, and people opening up their businesses and going about their day. A group of men insisted that I come over and join them in a teashop. No doubt I looked like I needed a cup of tea and a chair! My poor Malayalam (the language of Kerala) and even worse hand signs did little more than draw amusement. I would say something like, 'I am running from Kazaragod to Kannykumari', to which the response would be, 'OK'.

A few climbs and 'long slow straights' later and the sun was kicking into full effect. How can I explain the heat? Well try running in your running kit with a backpack on and a hat on your head in your local sauna. People will look at you in the sauna just as they look at me out here - like I am mad. You will hardly be able to breath. Your lungs will scream and shout, your pulse will race and your mind will be dizzy with pending heatstroke. We take every precaution we can. We drink for Ireland and England, we take carefully concocted mixes of electrolytes and we carry Gatorade. Even so, it’s going to take time to get used to it all. I'm hoping that I will acclimatise in due course.

With seven kilometres to go I had a chat with Stevie on the walkie-talkie. When you are in the middle of nowhere, a friendly voice means a lot. Even better the support vehicle popped up moments later. Rahul was waiting with a peeled banana and a bottle of water. Des was in his photo-taking position - as if he was pushing against a wall, where the wall was invisible. Sudeep (or boy-band as we like to call him) was heads down with Stevie behind the video camera.

I wish I could report more on the sights along the road today, but to be frank with you - I really struggled in the heat. This was the hardest 15km run I have ever done in my life. It was as much as I could do just to keep shuffling along. The day ended at a place called Trikkaripur, a small village notable for the Banyan trees (undoubtedly from their size, well over a hundred years old) and the local people who have 32-teeth smiles.

Coverage of the run in Indian Express

2006-05-03T11:48:00.000Z

3rd May 2006
Well, they might have got his job wrong, but here is a pretty decent coverage in the Indian Express (click on the image to enlarge). Indian Express is not one of the bigger newspapers in terms of circulation, but is one of the most respected dailies. More coverage is in the print (in the matrimonial section) and electronic media is anticipated over the coming days.

RK

The Start, The Stops and The (In)Sights In Between

2006-05-02T16:52:00.000Z

Day 1 Running (May 1st, 2006)

Bekal Fort to Kanhangad - 14kms

As we drove out to Bekal Fort the starting point of our run, the street was unexpectedly lined with rows of police in helmets and Dhandas (sticks) in hand. Maybe a precaution against the thousands of women who were expected to be lining the streets trying to catch the eye of their future husband. I had thought Robin was joking when he said he was going to create a matrimonial section on the heels on fire website, offering Steve and Pete up for marriage. Or maybe it had something to do with the previous day’s Times of India headline warning of "An explosion of some incidents of minor violence" in North Kerala. Whatever the reason, there was an electricity and emotion in the air that seemed fitting for the start of our adventure.

We had been properly blessed to run. Warming up in our sparkling New Balance running shoes, Reebok Shirts, North Face Camel pack filled with Gatorade, a couple of Go Gel's high energy protein gel's and a Walkie Talkie clipped on to the bag, we felt ready. All that was needed to top it off was for the big seagull, circling overhead to unload its bowels directly onto my head… How could one hope for a more auspicious start?

Bekal Fort the start of our journey had an almost spiritual feeling to it. The sun low in the sky, the fort built into the wide Arabian Sea behind and the golden beaches lined with coconut trees stretching away into the distance north and southwards. Pete said he felt humbled beginning to run and it was true it was very humbling to be here. For Dez, Sudeep and Steve too, it was a place of pilgrimage as they noted that one of Bollywood’s biggest hits were filmed at this very location. Another good omen.

So as we looked up at the fort and as we began to run two steps in, Director Dez already set the tone of things to come with his "No no go back, we were not ready!". So back we went a few moments more to savour and then off we set again.

The Sights…

Along the shore and up the large steps of the fort, into the main grounds, round the big defence walls and out onto the road. The last six weeks have felt like years but now we were finally on the road and although our bodies were not too happy about it, it was great to be running.

Two minutes in and a rickshaw driver pulled up beside us and asked if we wanted a lift. Did we look that bad? I hoped that this was an example of the friendliness of the Keralites and not an indication that we appeared to need assistance so soon.

On we ran, struggling to get air into our lungs and quickly realising that our initial relief at the conditions were short-lived. It was hot. Really hot and humid. A railway crossing halted our progress after 5 minutes. And we took this opportunity to dump our sunglasses, sun hats, water bottle; it was too much to be carrying in the heat. We ran under great Banyan trees famous for giving Buddha his seat to enlightenment, and sought brief moments of refuge under its shady branches. We ran over bridges with wide rivers flowing underneath, past women pulling water from a well, men playing cards and dogs eyeing up Pete's juicy ankles.

As we ran Dez, Sundeep and Steve would pop up on the roadside like the great Cayote stalking roadrunner. At one point we could see up ahead, Dez behind the camera, with 60 people on the roadside. We ran by, flattered that so many people had gathered to watch us. Only when we ran past did we realise, with not one pair of eyes flickering in our direction, that it was the three filmmakers and the camera that everyone was there to see.

At the next stop, Sudeep was standing on the roof of the jeep. Again surrounded by crowds of perplexed admirers.

As we ran, on came a crackle on our walkie-talkie. It was Steve, "Could we please cross over and run on the other side of the road"….it was easier a good ‘filming angle’. We were now also expected to run with our backs to the kamakazi like bus drivers. But in our minds, we were dedicated athletes…did they have no respect?!

The In Betweens…

The going continued to be tough till Pete offered me some wise advice. Don't count up in terms of distance... count down instead as it makes it feel like you are getting somewhere. So 600km, 599km 598km.... I was not convinced of the motivational use this trick of the mind. Drink before you are thirsty, look people in the eye and feed off their emotions. Keep your feet close to the ground. His words seemed to do the trick and our bodies started to get into the groove. Being the subject of such interest from everyone as we ran, I was struck by something. The way in which Pete relates to people as he runs. He engages the world around him and in particular the people.

I, in contrast, found myself feeling a sense of embarrassment and perhaps even a bit ashamed. Looking people in the eye and people looking at me I felt exposed and open for all to see. It was hard work and I was struggling. I almost felt there was something fraudulent about being there. In order to escape both the physical and mental discomfort of the situation and distract myself from the world around me, I tried to daydream. But day-dreaming while running is hard. Soon, I found myself starting to appreciate the feelings I was having and the fact that I couldn’t get away from them. And I began to feel more and more like I was part of the run, the landscape the people. Instead of trying to drift off, I focused on my own pain, not as an attempt to get rid of it but to face it. And I really liked it. Once on the road there is nowhere to run. Running had already taught me a very important lesson.

As we pulled into the town centre, the final stretch, the prayer calls were ringing from the mosque and the sun was bidding us farewell with just a few rays breaking through the Banyan trees. It had been a very special day and one that I was pleased to say had come to an end. And I thought to myself maybe it was not just shade that the big, wise old trees banyan trees had provided.

Rahul

Photocredit: Gaya, Kerala 2005

India awaits

2006-05-02T12:22:00.000Z

Day 1 (28th April 2006) - Leaving London

The Awakening
After frantic weeks of intense running; run preparation; sleepless nights, and growing trepidation, the day of departure arrived with a surreal sense of calm. I woke up and lay in bed for a while thinking that the next time
I sleep in my own bed, things could be very different.

Meandering through my flat, between washing machine, kettle, & computer was all rosy, until I hit the mountain of luggage that had piled up. The creeping bits and pieces had mutated to box loads of running kit, protein powders, electrolyte mixes, supplements and the Mother of All First Aid Kits (courtesy of www.Firstaid4sport.com). Getting all this equipment, a guitar, and luggage onto the flight, was not going contribute to a joyous departure.

The Great Luggage Fiasco
At the airport, the great luggage fiasco unfolded. The details of the palaver would bring tears to the eyes of an undertaker. To add to the drama there were rumours of flight changes to contend with. In the end we confidently explained that the boxes were full of medicines (we only implied that they would be for projects we would come across). We were very lucky; some sweet talking charm opened the luggage carrier.

Ninja's in the Night
On the flight, the ordeal of getting on board was all forgotten. At about 1am, like ninja's in the dead of night, Rahul and I crept through the snoring masses to join Stevie Young in the luxury of the premier section of Virgin Airlines. We eventually found him in a crevice of his seat (the

seats were that big!), and managed to win the flight attendants over with our fluttering eyelashes; they, in return, pampered us rotten. Rahul's mother told me that Rahul is a man of many talents - winning hearts and minds of flight attendants is definitely one.

Introducing Young Stevie
So who is Stevie Young? Young Stevie (24 years old) is a cinema photographer and filmmaker. Well, he will be by the time he finishes this trip. I have known Stevie since he was a wee whippersnapper of a kid growing up in Northern Ireland. We moved mountains to gain Stevie's

'mad-adventure-of-a-life-time visa'. He has never been to India before -so you are going to enjoy the freshness of a new pair of eyes to an amazing country.

Sweet Landing
We have blank canvas in front of us, with luggage loads of potential to paint with! We're aiming for a masterpiece 'Picasso' guys! We are seeking to make the best of what we have; to find a balance between you around the world, the run itself, and to the people we are about to meet.

Speaking on behalf of Stevie and Rahul (who are currently drooling into their tea bag sized pillows) I know that we are nervous, but extremely excited about the potential for this canvas.

We land into rush hour Delhi and a press conference in a couple of hours.

My pillow back in London is now thousands of miles behind me. New adventures and a large of amount of pain wait ahead.

Pete
Writing to you from Virgin Atlantic Flight, London to Delhi

Photo credit: Lindsey Block

Launch Party Update

2006-05-02T12:02:00.000Z

26th April 2006
Well in case you've forgotton the face of the 'heels on fire frontrunner' already, here's a picture from the launch party that took place on the eve of the team's departure. Throughout the night, there was a lot of mingling between the many 'like minds' and the room was buzzing with interest and enthusiam (and yes that was before the sambucas were bought!). Congratulations to all who helped arrange the event and many thanks of course to those who came to show their support. The room was packed with friends and family of Pete and Rahul as well as many others from all the wider networks made, all there to hear about the big adventure. Though Dez couldn't be there, rest assured that he was impressively represented in spirit, with his photos projected as a slideshow forming the backdrop of the evening.

Most importantly, the night also provided the opportunity for Rahul and Pete's mums, 'the original intrepid travellers' to meet each other and compare stories of their own travel adventures in the sixties, when they both drove overland to India from Europe in their Morris Minors.

All round, a great kick off!

Gaya

Not just wind in the hair...

2006-05-01T23:14:00.000Z

It all began far more auspiciously than one could hope for. Shortly after a sumptuous lunch and restful siesta, as Pete stretched his legs and flexed his muscles to begin his run, a crow flew over and found Rahul's head with great precision. Clearly, Rahul and his mates were not the only ones who had a sumptuous lunch. Such an aerial sortie could provoke the ever cynical Keralite to observe, "Even the crow knows where the loo is." Fortunately, the North Indians in the crew saw this intemperance of the avian sphincter as an expression of great luck for the days ahead!
And off Pete set, gently and nimbly southwards through Kasargod's scenic surroundings, watched on by curious villagers stirring from their afternoon naps. Along the route from Nileswaram to Payyannur, curiosity gave way to amusement, and amusement to enthusiasm, as kids joined Pete on several stretches of his 14 km run that marked the opening day. Pedestrians clapped and gave the team toothy smiles as they moved past speeding buses, weaving bikes and bemused cows. The hurtling Irishman and his crew stopped life for a few minutes amidst all the buzz of elections and Labour day celebrations. By Pete's standards it was a short run, but he kept his date with the run on the 1st of May. However, after a 10 hour car ride that got them into Kasargod only this morning, it was sane to stick to mild exertion on the first day.

The distance ahead looms large, but it should not be a bother if Rahul continues to pluck luck out of the sky. More updates to follow...

RK
(Images and detailed write-ups from the team will be uploaded as soon as we receive them - We understand that Desmond had a good day of shooting too.)

Ready,set,go...

2006-04-30T16:09:00.000Z

As I write, the team of Pete, Desmond, Rahul, Sudeep and Stevie are slowly winding their way up from Kochi to Kasargod - the starting line. That's a distance of over 350 kms, which on Kerala's winding, uphill, downhill roads will take around 7 hours. The home stretch of a journey that began over a month ago...
A journey that has along the way brought in tens of backers, hundreds of friends and thousands of ideas. An explosive build up with people in UK, India, South Africa and elsewhere putting in an extra few hours into their routine to make this seemingly mad plan delightfully possible (and still mildly insane). Just yesterday, Microsoft India chipped in with full financial backing for Desmond's photographs and film. With no strings, expiry clauses, licences or endorsement commitments. To join the ranks of Reebok India, Vitabiotics UK, Interpid Travel UK, Pepsi India,India Tourism and Kerala Tourism. And all you lovely people who have chipped in with energy, goodwill enthusiasm and sane advice.
The adventure is about to begin and the lads have are all hyped, nervous and eagar to start. I spoke to them a few minutes back and each one of them raring to go and ready to script his part. Now all they need is a bit of rest, luck and good food.
Good luck Pete, Desmond, Rahul, Sudeep and Stevie! May the force be with you! Hum Honge Kaamyab (We shall overcome) Or like they say in Kerala 'Adi! Adi!' (have a drink...and another).

We are all CLAPPING.

RK
(Photo source: Meena; 'Doctor': Desmond)

Dream a dream

2006-04-27T10:53:00.000Z

'heels on fire' this one phrase is all that most of us have been thinking, talking, dreaming, I would even go as far as saying eating and sleeping on over the last few days! It all started with just a thought, followed by a few discussions and a lot of emails amongst a really small group of friends. This is when the idea began taking some sort of a shape. The word spread to a few more. Suddenly people from all over the world were interested and getting involved. Before we knew it, 'heels on fire' had reached its 'tipping point'. It's really amazing to see how a small idea can have an effect on the lives of so many people and hopefully will touch the lives of many many more in the days to come.

We all live in our own little worlds and get so caught up there that somewhere down the line we stop living and merely start surviving. We sometimes forget about how much more life has to offer and more importantly, how much we can actually offer life. And then something like this comes along, giving us all an opportunity to be a part of something bigger making us believe again in things that we had not really lost, but more so forgotten.

'heels on fire' is not just about the run or even about the development issues, it's about how you can have a dream and make it a reality. So dream on guys, and we will all do whatever we can to make it come true!!

Kruti

Photo: Alleppey at dawn.

heels on fire

2006-04-27T07:19:00.000Z

Thanks For An Amazing Send Off

Well Folks what a truely inspiring evening! The love was flowing freely towards India. All sorts of people from various backgrouds realised that they have much in common.

Everyone had sparkle in their eye at the concept of heels on fire. We are all about to have an incredible experience that will no doubt leave and indelible imprint on our lives. Its all good.

Great to meet all of you folks. Have a great day where-ever you are.

The Heels on Fire team (Delhi and London)

HEELS ON FIRE LAUNCH IN LONDON

2006-04-16T16:02:00.000Z

Wednesday, 26 April, 7:00 pm

Crown Tavern (upstairs room of the pub)
43 Clerkenwell Green
08712233090
http://www.allinlondon.co.uk/clubs_bars/venue-1305.php

heels on fire

2006-04-15T10:13:00.000Z

The Dusty Path to the Comrades Ultra-Marathon

Hello South Africa!

A warm welcome the listeners in South Africa.

Whats this all about and why?

I am going to run 600kms in India through the month of May 2006. Its a endurance run that has developed to world wide proportions, with networks of people from Papua New Guinea to Mauritania and Barbados getting involved. Its also going to take me through to the start line of Comrades.

I used to live in Pretoria where I was a member of the Phobians Running Club. South Africa is where I first came to learn about, and experience the joys of distance running. Three years, twenty marathons and 6 ultras later, I find myself shaping my year around making it back to the Comrades.

Running in the intense heat of Southern India will provide a seriously challenging month of intensive back to back running (15 - 35 kms a day) that will hopefully catapult me through to the completion of my third Comrades.

My tickets are booked to be in Durban as the cockeral crows at 5am on June 16th 2006.

First and foremost, my sights are set on surviving 30 days of running. A feat never before attempted in this part of India. You can join me each day, as between myself and two friends (a writer and a photographer) we will chronicle and share the stories and images of the run.

Whatever happens, its going to be a great adventure. Hopefully you will join me in spirit, and on the website.

The 'heels on fire' website will be up and running next week. The address is as follows:

www.heelsonfire.org

See you there.

Pete

A star is born...

2006-04-11T11:06:00.000Z

The Khans of Bollywood beware...the Bollywood Running Man has arrived...
Peter Dulvy says he will take on Bollywood (actresses) 'LIKE A TIGER'.

Peter was tightlipped about his ambitions and continued to deny rumours that he was negotiating a mult-million contract to star in the Bollywood version of 'Forest Gump'.

Our analysts are however convinced that his Bollywood ambitions are clear from one of his recent press statements.
"I would like to fight for world peace.I also love children and animals."

Photocredit: Nick and Desmond

RK Bureau.

Turning on the wave of coloured lights

2006-04-08T09:15:00.000Z

They appear like flashes of coloured light at first; not just white or golden, but red, purple, blue, brown, and green. There's one, and then there's another. Bobbing in the distance; appearing then disappearing as the eye tries to focus in. Then, from out of nowhere, there are so many people you loose track. The flashes of colour suddenly turn into one long fast moving stream; like a checkered rainbow, stretched out as far as you can see. I stand here - from afar - mesmerized by the rhythmic, bouncing movement. That's what seeing Marathon runners whoosh past you is like.
Isn't it?

Watching the preparation for this run from afar is actually a little bit like watching a Marathon as a dumbsbtruck bystander. So many names, imagined faces, all flashing past as the last few weeks have unfolded. Everyone is building up to the finish line; or the starting line at Kasargod, Kerala in this case. The pace is thick with visions, strategies and concepts, as each and every step has to be precision planned. Ideas appear so fast they have to be clasped and tied down, talked out, schmoozed and may be even bullied into reality by so many back stage runners, all invisible to us,
the gaping on looker. People from every corner of the globe from London, Delhi, Pretoria, and Trivandrum are jet setting, phone calling, emailing, and blogging this run into action.

There's the logistics, the media, the government of India, the government of Kerala (and so many differently shaped moustaches) to be twirled and enticed. The sweet smell of something unusual cooking is being wafted around the entire globe by an ever-growing network of friends - friends of friends, and contacts of friends. And then suddenly, this week, there are flashes of different coloured lights switching on - like glimpsing the first running vests. The hallowed Guardian might be interested, a radio station in South Africa, and TV stations across India have all seemingly magically strapped on their trainers to be a part of the action. Then there's the Indian Tourism Board, followed by the success of a much needed sponsorship deal. And it all just looks to the bystander like its just clockwork ticking into place.

So much running around! And all to get three blokes, each armed respectively with
trainers, pen and camera, to run (into) and document the real lives of people along a winding backwater road to a mysterious rock at the most southern tip of India, where you can see the sun rise and then the sun set all at the same place. Who and what will they discover?

The Run to Kanyakumari will be a classic; a mythical epic road untraveled; like the mysterious Road to Timbuktu, or its hippy cousin the Route 66; it's the so far un-run
run. So sit back, and watch closely with bated breath as it all just apparently seamlessly whooshes together.

Meena Bhandari

heels on fire

2006-04-07T18:30:00.000Z

Heads Down Running, Major Sponsorship, and Media In-Roads

Well folks, another remarkable week. Fingers crossed for the flight sponsorship being sealed (thanks Tourism India), the costs of internal travel and photography equipment (hopefully the Kerala Tourism board come through for us), and for the discovery channel and, or NDTV documentary. Men's health are keen on me writing for their, 'Things to do before you die' section. I am basically keen not to die!

The documentary idea sounds like alot of fun. It means other people have to suffer in the heat alongside me! My brother reckons it might kick start a bollywood career. Clearly he has not seen me act or heard me sing!

Finally, today (Friday) it was confirmed I am going live on the number 1 sports radio station in South Africa on April 15th in the afternoon. They love the runnng idea and are keen to hear more about the adventure.

Thanks to all for your support. Next week I am off to N. Africa for work. The plan is to get some serious running in the early am's and late pm's. Quite excited to train for a run in South Asia...in North Africa.

Heads down and get serious.

Pete

PS. Any media/ PR ideas and /or contacts will be truely appreciated.

How to blend into Kerala...

2006-04-05T16:44:00.000Z

Pete attempts to fit into the Kerala milieu...
(courtesy: Geoff Kebbell)

RK Bureau

On course on the road less travelled...

2006-04-03T14:04:00.000Z

Pulling Everything Together for 600kms in May.

In my mind I have been wondering what are the right words to use to impress upon you that this run can make a difference to the lives of people around the world, impacting on lives for a greater good. How can I convince you that this isn’t just a flash in the pan idea? What can I do or say to convince you that during thirty days (this May) you can make a contribution to highlighting issues in the developing world?

The facts speak for themselves. This week has seen break-throughs disproportionate to reality. In the last week we have seen the following:

- Wednesday - North Face (that is right, North Face!) came through as a kit sponsor for ‘Heels on Fire’. Though I still need some shoes (wink wink New Balance) and flight tickets (come on Karl and David at Intrepid - it will work for you).
- Thursday brought me personal assurance that I would have a job to come back to.
- The evening saw Rahul and I ‘booted and suited’ making huge inroads with the Indian tourist board and Indian High Commission. On paper and over the phone we are opening doors of interest. Meeting people in person is bringing results. We are convincing people that the benefits are huge!
- Friday brought a conversation inroad with the international director of Actionaid. This gentleman is seriously influential in the world of development, especially so in India and Kerala.
- A link has been made with the Hindu newspaper, the most credible newspaper in India and the one with the best sports section. Readership of over 3 million people. There are strong hopes for column inches in the Manorama Newspaper in Kerala, readership of 7 million. The team in India are meeting one of the most respected writers in the country later this week.
- We are talking with some of the key people to get the Indian Navy 'on board' and helping out with the run.
- The Runners World will receive an article and photos after the run. Mens Health are keen, as are the Guardian and Metro newspapers. The doors are opening daily, with countless others hopefully following.
- The website domain has just been registered. The website will be up and 'running' very soon.

On Friday evening I came back home to find a package of goodies from the North Face. Sporting my new ‘rehydration pack’ and looking at its fetching colours brought home the deep reality that together we are spinning a great idea for development to the point where relative strangers are convinced of the run and its potential philanthropic spin-offs.

The media are in place, the sponsors are getting there and the development angle is being refined. Its a brave new world.

More on the all important development angle to follow.

Pete

The stairway to fitness...

2006-04-02T20:00:00.000Z

"The progress over the last week has been remarkable", says Pete's fitness guru, Hused Iymeh Phatas. "In the last week, he has covered over 200 kilometres between 40 pubs and a couple of gallons of stout. Kerala needs to sit up and stock up to the exploits of a legend like him. This week, our mission is to have him climb up the stairs of the Covent Garden tube station,sober. I don't anticipate any problems - I just hope he gets a valid tube ticket this time."

RK Bureau

below the line

2006-03-30T10:56:00.000Z

This woman, who has been the subject of many of my photos and whose beauty has been the subject of many conversations, rolls beedis (a rolled leaf cigarette) to supplement the household income. Her husband, a mason has been out of work for nearly 5 months – he will not take up any other work, or share in the household chores – but she manages her family with the Rs.20 that she earns each day from rolling tobacco. The boy in the right hand corner of the frame is her son who cannot afford the 'luxury' of going to school.

In the rural areas around Budelkhhand, it is very uncommon to see a girl child "going to school". I was pleasantly surprised to see more than a bunch of them in this school. The headmaster told me that most of these children were sent to the school, because of the mid-day meal scheme. That apart, the look on this girl's face, the determination to pull herself out of this circle of poverty is what I set out to capture.

Portrait of a child (Kol Tribe, Chitrakoot district, India)

A little girl picks cow dung cakes from near the remains of a cow claimed by the harsh winter of 2003-04. What drew me to this picture was the setting – a little girl next to the skeletal remains of a cow. Any urban "rich" kid twice her age would have run a mile from this setting, but for her, toiling in this environments is just a part of her life. Later I realized that I had 4 layers of warm clothing while she only had a cotton rag wrapped around her to keep warm...

From the 'Below the Line' Photoessay by Desmond Roberts on Poverty and Disempowerment in the Bundelkhand Region (Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh, India). Exhibited at the Poorest Areas Civil Society(PACS) Programme National Advocacy Seminar at the Marriott Hotel, New Delhi 29-30, January 2004.

Lights Out

2006-03-28T18:55:00.000Z

Photographs in India by Desmond Roberts
2005. A village in Warangal district,Andhra Pradesh, India that I covered while doing a photoshoot for Oxfam International on the plight of cotton farmers. The picture of the electric pole is one of my favourites. When I stepped out of my vehicle some twenty villagers had surrounded me. And when I pointed my camera at the sky with the electric pole in the foreground, the villagers were talking among themselves – "He is taking this picture of the electric pole, he will probably show it to the Prime Minister in New Delhi". The street light has not been working for the last 15 years! The poor, tired of waiting for the 'trickle down effect', await intervention from the highest source.

Pete, Rahul and Dez

2006-03-28T13:11:00.000Z

Route Map and Running Risks

2006-03-27T09:18:00.000Z

When I left South Africa I carried a letter from my old housemate and good friend Tim. In it he wrote that ‘life is never stagnant…that we are all firmly trapped in a roller coaster cart taking us through twists, turns and loops beyond comprehension….its more hectic than you want, but rewarding and enriching beyond your wildest dreams!’. Those words held true for me this past weekend.

It started with a sunny early morning Covent Garden breakfast and coffee chat. It was the first time Rahul met Robin, Kruti and Tulika. The coffee went cold as the conversation flowed freely. Lots of brain storming lead by Tuls on the website and blog. Robin espoused places of interest in Kerala intertwined with anecdotes and stories. Did you know that in this highly literate state where political discussion is encouraged and debate expected, people get paid to read newspapers. That’s right, in many factories in Kerala, it is the sole job of dedicated employees to read the daily newspaper across speaker systems to the workers. Debate takes place across the work floor. Impressive to say the least!

With a list of ideas Rahul and I went off to Stanfords Map and travel shop where we spent the next few hours ploughing through maps and guides discussing and planning a route. A route, which takes in different extremes of mountains, backwaters, open plains and the luscious coastline. It will take us through rubber and cashew plantations. Through hideaway towns in the hills of the interior, and fishing villages by the Arabian and Indian Oceans.

Using a cunningly devised distance guage down the side of a bookmark, we worked out the ‘as the crow flies’ kilometres between each daily destination. It struck me later in the evening; the disdain with which I differentiated so readily between what may be a 25km and a 35km day. It was unspoken between us, but I knew we could see how easily we under-estimated so many of the daily runs!

There is a growing sense of the risks we are running towards with such enthusiasm. Dave, Lynne, Diane, Todd and many others have all taken me aside for a ‘quiet chat’ about the run. There are very real risks. The heat, traffic, illness and dogs stand amid a sea of concerns to confront and manage. The runners amongst you will appreciate the small cuts and sores that develop over the monotony of a long run. The cuts will be intensified and cultivated in the tropics where 40-degree heat and 80% humidity can be expected. Folks, we know this and please rest assured that whatever can be done to protect myself, will be done with diligence.

So there we have it. A roller coaster ride which is at times beyond comprehension, which I truly believe will reward and enrich our lives. There is no question in my mind that this is worth aiming for.

Good to have you folks at my side.

Pete

A Gastronomic Run Route...

2006-03-25T08:59:00.000Z

Kerala offers numerous culinary delights, some of which might contribute to slowing the runner and his mates on their route through Kerala...

Desmond and Farah

heels on fire

2006-03-24T14:40:00.000Z

Raising awareness can be simple as sending an email - calling all talented people!

Its all happening folks. The action behind this mad run is phenomenal. I wish you could see it. Lots of people moving in lots of directions, shimmying their way through address books, penning briefs, putting together excel budgets, chinwagging, sharing ideas, researching and much more. It's a humbling experience to be surrounded by such talented people.

Im hoping that you can momentarily step out of your working world and live the fun of the preparations with us. Read on....

Fact - as like minds from a multitude of job titles we all share a vested interest in development. When the run gets going (very slowly) on May 1st 2006 the aim is that:

a) we provide you a daily update of the run, the people and the sights along the route, and

b) that on any given day whilst on the road we will come across a story of a person, place or whatever.. that potentially can provoke your thinking and if we are lucky, broad development discussion.

From the route we will write up what we see, and share it with you on a web-blog (attached to the run website - to be developed) and facilitate YOU GOOD PEOPLE to come into the blog to say what you think about what we are seeing in the context of development. It may be a related story from elsewhere, it may be your opinion on what works or what doesn't work, it may be what my mum thinks....it can be whatever. The world (blog) is your lobster!

We hope to share ideas on development, to explain concerns, to spread good stories and to do it all in the web blog in as simple a language as possible.

The way I see it we all have pretty good networks of friends and colleagues in our email address books. Between us we have at least a hundred or so immediate people this web blog could go to with minimal effort at the touch of the send button. At a that initial list of one hundred people could travel to 30 countries. If you can convince those first recipients to spread the story onto their networks we might just reach a helluva lot of people with this web blog. Thus, possibly enhancing their understanding of what's happening thousands of miles away that day on the road in a village in India, and .....reading the fun of a running adventure amongst three like minds (one of who can balance a chair on his chin).

At its simplest - the hard part of the run rests with Rahul, Dez, myself and the friends who are behind the tale of getting us to the start in northern Kerala. However, and much more importantly, the true success of this run rests with you and your willingness to get into the adventure. To share thoughts and to pass on the story to your friends.

Between us - lets see how far this thing can go with the aid of you and your talents.

Have a good weekend. Go running!

Pete

All Kerala Democratic Runners Association (Republican)

2006-03-24T11:29:00.000Z

It is entirely possible that in Kerala running is classified as 'intensive physical labour by proletariat' that gives exploitative bourgeois sitting in the comforts of their houses and offices (of multinational corporations) immoral pleasure and pecuniary benefits. Running is possibly classified as a form of class struggle, that is to be used only in extreme circumstances – such as running away from cops and running after speeding state buses that do not stop at designated bus stops.

Running might be an activity regulated and permitted only to the hardworking and exploited working class (who have nothing to lose but their chains). Only members of runners unions might be allowed to practise this profession. Non-union members might have to pay a fee fixed on a pro rata basis to the distance covered. Each union would have sovereign running rights over a few villages and therefore we will have to work out payments for a network of unions along the way. A union that we pay to could offer us protection, while rival unions might boo the runner, unleash dogs, chuck coconuts etc. The revolutionary opportunities could be immense…

If there is a federation level body of the unions, it would not necessarily make our life easier – they might need a separate payment towards the cause of ‘global class action’ or the ‘Final Run’.

Plus, we will have to worry about photographers unions, writers unions etc. By now, Kerala might even have a bloggers union. Each union will have a noble class action of global significance. We might need an entire team of people to work through this intricate web of unions and might never quite be on the top of issues.

One possible way around this could be to form our own union. Forming a union should not be too difficult so long as we stick to some basic rules. I can remember the following:

Typically unions in Kerala need at least one member, but there is a measure of flexibility on this clause.

The Union should have a name that emanates gravity. ‘All India/All Kerala/World should appear somewhere. Use of ‘global’ could have us mistaken for a bourgeois outfit. Democratic/Peoples (we need to take a few cues from the Chinese here) will give it a sense of fairness and legitimacy.

The flag/logo should be red and have images of a sickle, hammer, chainsaw, pile driver etc. Kalasnikovs are not quite in fashion yet.

The head of the union should adopt a middle name of a famous revolutionary. Stalin, Pol Pot, Miloslavic etc might work in other states, but here we might have to think of someone who has transcended class divide and appeals universally. How about Desmond Rooney Roberts or Peter Paris Hilton Dulvy?

Anybody who runs/plans to run in Kerala needs to be a member. This should be non negotiable. Study classes for members will be compulsory too.

Subsequently, we could extend compulsory membership to anyone in Kerala who wants to walk.

I can already see tremendous potential for ending exploitation and freeing the masses from the oppressive yoke of capitalism. Exploited people of the world, RUN!
RK

Tips for Kerala-1

2006-03-23T10:12:00.000Z

May is the election Month in Kerala. Every street corner will host a few dozen speakers competing for listeners, garlands and applause. Pete,Dez, Rahul and the pack of dogs could offer some competition...
Perhaps Pete would become a popular speaker and compete for ear and mind space in an election month? What he talks would not really matter so long as he sprinkles words such as Marxism, Fascism, socialism, communism, nepotism, nihilism and other '-isms'. Keralites love -isms and immediately assume that this guy knows a thing or two.
Then of course, it is important to drop in a couple of pet clichés (Kerala is still virginal PG Wodehouse territory).
Like:
Running is the 'life and soul' of living. (Or the 'flesh and blood').
I ran from 'pillar to post' to run through Kerala.
'Time and again' I have been wanting to do this.

The occasional proverb, even if it is completely out of context, would be handy too.
'A rolling stone gathers no moss.' Where is the closest coconut toddy shop?
'Birds of the same feather flock together.' Do you know where the ducks are - I am feeling hungry.
‘Early bird catches the worm.’ I think there is something floating in my soup.
Then again, Pete and Dez are the last people who need advice on these things.
I shall wind up, as I know no more. When ignorance is bliss, silence is golden.
RK

2006-03-22T18:43:00.000Z

Pete this ones for you... a distance chart of important towns across kerala, so now you know what you are into. Mangalore as you mite have already figured is outside of Kerala so doesn t find a mention in here..... trying to get hold of a better map soon so that we can chart our way on paper...

2006-03-22T18:34:00.000Z

A view from the backwaters of kerala

2006-03-22T17:23:00.000Z

Across Kerala, access to energy supplements will not be a problem...

2006-03-22T17:05:00.000Z

heels on fire

Yo Pete,

I read your first bit about doing a book based on community/family level
stories - think it is a truly brilliant idea.
It also sparked of another idea - you could ask families for recipes of
the some of the yummy meals they make and make that into some kind of
small book...then sell it, with proceeds going to a local charity.
Bye,

Shruti

2006-03-22T16:14:00.000Z

Hello,

Now that I am free of work and other ailments...
It does appear that our circle of support is expanding with new converts and networks emerging by the day. This is hugely reassuring as it blurs that niggling suspicion about Pete and the rest of us being slightly unhinged. Or maybe there are far more batty people around than we initially thought. Either way, it is good to see support from like-minded/mindless souls.

What would the average Keralite think of a foreigner running through the state? Maybe he is too bloody broke to even ride a bus? Maybe he is a foreign agent doing a rece? Or maybe he is nuts? Or could he be running for some social cause? Despite being habitual sceptics, I would think there is a lot of social consciousness around to identify with such a run.

We could test waters by checking out the reactions of some of the Kerala NGOs. I have written to a couple and I will keep you posted on their reactions. If the NGOs latch on, then it would be possible to do a bit more than running through a apathetic countryside? At the end of each day, Pete, Dez and associates could spend some time in the villages understanding people's lives, their issues and the proof of local arrack. Photo and writing opportunities would be plenty.
Robin

2006-03-22T10:20:00.000Z

heels on fire

Harry passed on this website for Indian NGO's. This might assist the local search for whats going on. I will have a look into when I get a chance. If anyone else has time can they help out in extracting the Kerala NGO's. Its going to be good to know whats out there.

http://www.cafonline.org/cafindia/default.cfm

Rahul N. S. is definitely joining Dez and myself for the journey. I had a great chinwag and brainstorming session in the pub last night with himself Gaya and Harry-gi.

Last night I dreamt I had a pack of dogs chasing me. It was'nt pleasant. Please - someone tell me, how bad are Keralite dogs?

Long run this evening!

2006-03-21T16:30:00.000Z

heels on fire

G'day folks - word is slowly spreading and the enthusiasm is growing. Lots happening and lots to do. Not sleeping that well and waking up at the crack of dawn to try to get the fitness side of things in order. I have had a few conversataions with some proper endurance runners who have advised me to take the 'death by dehydration' issue seriously. I am figuring that a crash course in vey basic maallloooo will be vital, as will the maallooo moustache.

What else? I am going to have to avoid all the good foods that Kerala has to offer for one whole month. Thats just not fair! I will also have to have my eyes peeled and my ears de-waxed so I can pick up sights and sounds worthy of recording along the way.

Currently working with Dez on pulling the budget together and am chatting with Rahul on the ifs and whats of his potential travel. Those of you who dont know Rahul - you soon will. He can balance a chair on his chin and can organize things and people like there is no tomorrow. A definite asset if he comes along. In the background I am also chatting with Rocket - the one other person on this earth whom I know that is both capable and mad enough to join the full run itself. Also chatting with the North Face - lets see what goodies I can squeeze out of them!

Once again - a mighty thanks to the good people who are making the adventure come to life.

All ideas and suggestions are welcome...

2006-03-20T17:34:00.000Z

Pete at the Dublin Marathon 2005

2006-03-20T13:07:00.000Z

As the Big Run approaches...Pete's fitness instructor, Hused Iymeh Phatas keeps a close watch on his progress. Handycam recordings of his running style as well data on his physical stamina, bodymass/fat ratio and response to temperature, humidity and beer are being compared to test statistics procured from National Geographic and Animal Planet.

"Overall, his progress is very impressive. The month ahead is very vital to our goal of runing across Kerala in 30 days", confirmed Phatas.

RK Bureau

2006-03-18T19:04:00.000Z

Ardent fans wait patiently for hours in the Kerala tropical sun for their beloved hero, Pete to appear on the horizon...

The air is filled with with chants of
P-E-T-E-R...Marry M-E!

BLESS ME WITH A LOOK!

IRON MY SARI...

RK Bureau

2006-03-18T12:30:00.000Z

heels on fire

Hi Folks - A few questions :

- Seriously, how hot will it be in May?
- Is the water potable?
- Do we know any local bottle water companies?
- Does anyone have any spare mobile phones?
- Roughly how much will it cost to hire a car and driver for a month in Kerala?
- Has anyone got a detailed district level map of Kerala - we need to chart the route via B roads.
- Does anyone know anyone who has carried out distance running in Africa/ Asia?
- Does anyone know any good projects/ NGO's working in Kerala?

Also please do feel free to make comments. Any suggestions or ideas around the run will be seriously appreciated...

2006-03-18T12:16:00.000Z

heels on fire

Is it true that in order to travel through Kerala I have to grow a freddie mercury moustache, wear a mundu (skirt) and smoke bidi's?

2006-03-17T17:49:00.000Z

Friday evening stock taking.

Even in a country like Ireland, it is not often that you come across someone willing to risk running over 650 kms through the tropical heat of Kerala, past lazing ducks, striking labourers, bathing elephants, idling pensioners and open hooch shops to Kanyakumari. And you are not even running to a pub.

Here we have Pete willing to return to run through Kerala (most outsiders usually away from after the first encounter with the friendly Malayalee wayside philosophers - ask Tipu Sultan) in May at a steady chug of at least 25-30kms a day?

I can't think of many parallels in adventure sport. I am reliably told that Paul B, one of our legendary friends, climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro, clad in thin muslin attire, rubber sandals and cotton socks; and had all his climbing gear in a polythene bag. Then he is a veteran of many conquests, though not often involving mountains, sandals and muslin. Rubber, maybe.

Mousa, an Ingushetian friend of mine, tells me about his uncle who polished off a bottle of fine Russian vodka in Russian winter and gathered Dutch courage to save some more money to buy another bottle of vodka by opting to ride for free on a well ventilated goods' train instead of a regular, warm passenger train. He lived to tell the tale, aided in no small measure, by the fine Russian vodka.

But tales of agony in the cold are not the best comparison for Pete's venture. Tulika might insist that test cricket in the sub-continent is a close parallel.

Still, we need better stories...over the weekend and over the weeks ahead.

Robin

2006-03-16T13:23:00.000Z

heels on fire
The other day, I was telling Camilla how much I love these kind of challenges, where all I have to do is blog and then sit beside her and take credit for Pete leading a pack of dogs to the South of India. We need more of this?

We could perhaps convince Meena in West Africa to run through the desert espousing a life beyond the menu for animals in that part of the world?

And Lindsey to run across one of those Caribbean Islands to save vulnerable small islands from development consultants?

I was wondering whether Meena would have more contacts than us with the NGO thicket in Kerala, considering that she actually worked there on post -tsunami rehab work?

We need to sound a few of the media types to see whether such an idea can be sold? I have sent the link to Venky - let's wait for his helping of wisdom.

And lets hope this will in some way contribute a tiny bit to encouraging running in Kerala/India of the variety different from running after buses and running away from the cops after buying illicit hooch.

I would love to run too.
But then someone needs to make the sacrifice and stay back to look after Camilla.

Robin

2006-03-16T12:21:00.000Z

heels on fire

Folks, for a number of you looking at this blog you will have no idea what the hell is going on. That ok, neither do I!

Read on...

In May we (like minds) are kicking off a challenge whereby I am going to run (very slowly) the length of the south indian state of Kerala... All thoughts and ideas on making this work as smoothly as possible are appreciated...At this point we are looking for possible ideas on sponsors and media.. exploration first aid and medicines.. solid local contacts and also if you can think of any key issues - best and worst practices in carrying out this sort of challenge.

Also please feel free to post questions and queries....

Pete

2006-03-16T10:50:00.000Z

Peter underestimates the sheer endurance that my bar - Camilla demands of me. Like other Camillas we know, this one is bit of a horse too and gallops me down the road to inebriation faster than anyone can say Coconut toddy. But, we know Pete is less of 'runner with drinking problems' and more of a 'drinker with running problems', but hey - how many of us ever have the guts to plan and attempt such a run?

25 kilometres a day is going to be a tough ask and I still think you need to plan a few more breaks in between. you might have to run early in the morning as well to beat the killing heat, although this might pose problems in terms of logistics and publicity. Plus you are likely to encounter the morning hordes of Kerala men weaving back from toddy shops after their morning 'cuppa' of toddy and 'kappa'.
We need to build up the momentum for this fast too - let me twist the arms of a couple of Kerala NGOs. We could enlist your cousin Thomas to lecture them on Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR). It is possible that my Kerala Comrades might mistake it for a new legal provision that allows one trade union per employee in private companies.

Fire away guys! Use this blog to record new ideas, advice, doubts contacts, addresses of toddy shops etc. All emails intended for our in boxes can instead appear here - it doesn't require that much of an extra effort. Not quite as much as Pete will require for his run.

RK

2006-03-15T21:28:00.000Z

Hi guys and gals,

While we light the fuse on Pete's heels to send him whirring through God's Own Brewery - Kerala, the seats on the sides are filling up...
And we will have Dez speeding behind and in front of him, capturing life along the meandering way and Pete panting along. Since Dez isn't much of a runner and at risk from the winds along the coast, we will pitch in to get him lead roller blades.

The roads are gleaming, the potholes are covered, the toddy is brewed, the garlands are ready, the damsels are swooning...let's set Pete on his way!

And all our ideas could do a bit to egg him on (along with the stray dogs on the roadside)

So keep posting!

RK