Biking Tales: Chapter 4 – A Pause in Ghazipur

at the intersection of the service lane and the Express Way

The sun had barely begun its descent when I pulled into a roadside canteen. I hadn’t ridden far that day, but somehow the exhaustion wasn’t just physical—it gnawed at me mentally. The heat, the endless stretches of highway, the unfamiliarity of the surroundings—it all weighed me down. It’s strange how the body sometimes handles more than the mind does. My muscles were ready to push on, but my head needed a break. The thought of riding into the night, with no clear idea of what lay ahead, sent a ripple of unease through me. I decided then: I’d stop before sunset.

The road led me to Ghazipur. I took an exit off the highway and pulled into what felt like a sleepy, unassuming town. The first stop was a water break, the kind where you get more than just hydration—you get conversation. A man approached me, eyes wide at the sight of my Yamaha R15 and the gear I was sporting. The admiration in his voice was palpable. We chatted briefly, shared a few laughs, and in those moments, the exhaustion lifted a little. Human connection has that power, I guess. It felt good.

But the sense of ease didn’t last long. After the friendly exchange, I realized I had no idea where I’d stay the night. Ghazipur wasn’t exactly brimming with obvious choices. The place didn’t look like a bustling city or even a sizeable town. I started my search, asking around, hoping for a decent spot to rest. The first place I found? Well, let’s just say it was… questionable. Skepticism crept in the moment I stepped in. They showed me around, and while they tried to make it seem welcoming, it felt shady, the kind of place that makes you instinctively want to leave.

I didn’t waste time. I dashed out and turned to my trusty sidekick—Google Maps. I wasn’t particularly confident that I’d find anything worthwhile, especially in such a remote area, but to my surprise, Google recommended a hotel with a good rating. The pictures looked promising too. No time to waste, I set out in search of this supposed oasis.

As dusk deepened, the road grew eerily quiet. Darkness in unfamiliar territory is always unsettling, and this was no different. The lack of streetlights, the sparse houses, and the creeping feeling of isolation—it all made me question if I was heading in the right direction. But just when the unease started to settle in, things changed. I began to see more signs of life—houses, then a small market, and finally, there it was: The Grand Palace

To say I was in awe would be an understatement. The Grand Palace was far from what I expected in Ghazipur. The moment I stepped in, the ambiance hit me—this place was classy. The reception area was warm and welcoming, and the staff greeted me with smiles that instantly made the rough journey worthwhile. I struck up a conversation with the manager, who was eager to help and genuinely curious about my ride. He even offered advice on the best route for my journey ahead, making me feel like I wasn’t just a guest but a fellow traveler they cared for.

After checking in, I was led to my room, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. The amenities, the cleanliness, the comfort—it was leagues beyond what I had imagined for such a remote area. It was exactly what I needed after days of riding under the relentless sun. I quickly cleaned up, changed out of my dusty riding gear, and headed to the dining area, eager to refuel.

The dinner was nothing short of amazing. I devoured a hearty meal, my body grateful for every bite. The cherry on top? An ice cream that I treated myself to as a reward for enduring three days of riding. It may sound simple, but after the sweltering heat, that ice cream was bliss. My mind wandered as I ate, reflecting on the past few days. It had been a tough ride—physically demanding and mentally taxing—but it was the kind of challenge that made me feel alive.

Three days. Three days of nothing but riding. My body was sore, but the kind of soreness that makes you proud. I was still on antibiotics for the injury from Day 1, but I didn’t let it slow me down. The day’s end felt like a victory, and as I finished the ice cream, I felt a sense of peace wash over me.

Back in my room, I switched on the TV, letting the familiar beats of Bollywood music fill the air. The soft glow of the lights, the hum of the air conditioning, and the satisfaction of a full stomach—it was the perfect ending to an exhausting day. As the music played in the background, I drifted off, letting sleep take over. It was a deep, undisturbed sleep, the kind that comes only after a day spent truly pushing your limits.

This marked the end of Day 3—a day that tested me in ways I hadn’t anticipated but rewarded me with moments of unexpected joy and comfort. Ghazipur may have been an unplanned stop, but it became a memorable part of the journey.