Arriving to Mao in Manipur, India, where I had decided to find a hotel, was not encouraging. Total darkness, due to shut down of all electricity. I could not see any hotel and only few people around a fire. I decided to keep going despite having promised myself never ride in darkness. The surroundings were simply too unfriendly.

I saw the border control gate but ignored it and took the direction to Imphal – some three hours way. Shortly after I left, I noticed a car in my rear mirror, that was always coming closer. Finally, I made a space so it could pass me, but to my surprise, the driver wanted to talk with me. He had been trying to catch up with me since I left Mao, and wanted to inform me about the situation.

The area that I had just entered was quite insecure – especially during the night. He recommended that I would go back and he even offered me a home-stay, which I gladly accepted.
When I returned, I went to the border control office, which was run by the police, and registered. There I learnt that the registration of foreigners is purely for their benefits – if something happens then the authorities know whom to contact at home. No one was wearing a uniform, but everyone had a riffle or a machine gun and an old and thick winter coat. Small fire place in front of the Police station served as a heater for the policeman on duty. It felt like I was part of a WW II scene.

Many times, after I returned from India, I have wondered what would have happen if the guy had not warned me and recommended me to return.