We just might have been the dumbest people ever to have traveled to India without a plan, a first aid kit, antibiotics for colds and stomachs, or vaccinations, but one thing we had more than enough of was laughter. Now, after returning home to the safety and cleanliness of my own apartment, I decided that, before I even unpacked, I needed to spend ten minutes finally typing out the Best and Worst of India 2008-09 list that we've been working on for the last two weeks.
It was a brilliant move to purchase a couple of small notebooks for writing down precious words and phrases, moments of hilarity, and titles that we gave to each other. My little black one, used for just that, is also full of personal things, blog ideas, to do lists, and mementos. It was a necessary part of my trip, and will allow me to share the following hilarities with you. Now, I figure that this stuff will not be as funny as it may have been to us, but allow yourself, if you will, to fall into our world of immaturity, sarcasm, naivety, and good-natured fun. And please, have a laugh at our expense.
And with no further ado, the following is a list of everything good, as well as the worst, of our winter holiday in India.
Best and worst:
Best stomach: Wendy
Worst stomach: Michele, who got Delhi belly at least three times
Best bargainer: Greg, who could swindle the price down enough to save himself money for many taxi rides in the Philippines
Best sleepers: the Nonato boys, much to the disdain of Michele and myself
Best thing we stole: Airline blankets, which were useful day after day after day
Best looking: Bollywood star Shahrukh Khan
Best purchase: A 3x4 cardboard cutout of Shahrukh Khan, which was tragically left at a hotel in Udaipur
Most likely to be able to grow as much facial hair as a Venezuelan Barbie: Greg
Best packers: a three way tie between Greg (for having the least amount of stuff), Wendy (for packing light AND never having have had to do laundry), and Mike (for coming home with the least amount of things)
Most unusual packer: Michele and her rolling suitcase
Most likely to have sunshine coming out of his ass: Greg
Least likely: Wendy
But, by far, the Best Entertainment Value title goes to Michele, who earned herself a whole slew of titles on our trip including, but not limited to, Most likely to bring a rolling suitcase to India, Most likely to wake up with some ailment or another, Most likely to be drugged up on Gravel, Most likely to laugh until she literally pees, and Most likely not to have kids until she's 32 (or to get a second opinion about it).
Michele, for all it is worth, was an incredibly good sport. We really gave her a hard time, and made her laugh at herself, which she is a pro at doing. She also provided us with so many nuggets of laughter in her quotes, which were sometimes as naive as they were memorable. Some of the best quotes from Michele:
"Italians, they'll touch you. But if your friends are cakers..." (in referring to Canadians as cakers, a reference that neither Mike, nor I, understood)
"Am I a year older than you? Maybe I should be the mature one?"
"Shut ta zit! And that means 'be quiet'!" (yeah, Michele, as if we couldn't figure that out)
"Some people will never see these sights in all of their lifetimes."
"Would somebody PLEASE just eat these cows?"
"Excuse me, sir, but could you tell me what's on your omelet sandwich?"
"I can't take the camel seriously. Seriously."
"Those stupid, two-ass snowstorms." (referring to the two, stupid-ass snowstorms that kept her flights back to Japan, before India, late)
and our favorite quote of all: "It's the Italian in me." (which was Michele's response to EVERYTHING)
Best quotes from Wendy:
"Uh, guys, Greece is sounding pretty good right now."
"Michele, in honor of you, we're naming this camel Guiseppe, because it must be Italian - it's eating everything in site!'
Best quotes from Mike:
"So, do you guys adjust each other's boobs in those backpacks?"
"NRI must mean 'Not Really Indian', PIO is 'Pretty Indian Ofcourse', and OCI surely stands for 'Of Course I Am'." (in answer to the boxes we were asked to check on our Indian entry customs forms)
"Wear diapers." (in response to Michele's insistence that she couldn't help that she had to go to the bathroom all the time, and what else would he suggest she do instead?)
"I don't want to see your ass hairs!" (in response to Michele saying 'Eww, look at all of these nasty-ass hairs!').
------
In the end, it was amazing to travel with this group. We laughed, we cried, and if you were Michele, you even peed.
Showing posts with label Incredible (??) India. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Incredible (??) India. Show all posts
Thursday, January 08, 2009
In Closing...
This past two weeks in India was not a holiday. It was an experience.
I have vowed that next time I want to go somewhere, I am going to take a holiday. I am going to go somewhere where relaxing will be part of my day. Where my bikini will be required, and hot showers expected (I might even take with me a tall, handsome man to fan me with peacock feathers and feed me olives, and I am not even joking for one second...).
But, in retrospect, this experience has been incredible. And it couldn't have happened without the help of some incredible and amazing people.
For starters, India was brought to us by the letters 'L' and 'P'. Without our Lonely Planet guidebook, our tour in India would have truly been a failure.
Special thanks also go to the following:
To Mike (the peacemaker), Greg (the navigator), and Michele (the Italian), my awesome travel partners. It could have been a lot harder, but it wasn't. The mix of personalities really went together in a way that worked. It wasn't always flowers and roses, but we did an amazing job with what we had.
To Leila, Brian, Greg and Amy: thank you for getting us to and from the airports with all of our bags. You were absolutely necessary, and are in our debt.
To Rachel: For your promise to bring me Lysol from America. Without it, my apartment, and my belongings, would be ruined for life. I am anticipating the moment of delousing already.
For Patrick: One of my number one pals, who was also indefinitely responsible for keeping me sane. His bi-weekly Facebook chats kept my mind free and easy, and my connection to the real world strong. My deepest gratitude to you, friend.
and lastly, to Jono, whose gifts kept me organized (with the very useful friendship-bracelet backpack) and warm (with your knitted hat and socks). I apologize in advance for the delousing that will have to occur in order for your belongings to be usable again, but am grateful nonetheless.
After two weeks to think about it and reflect, I have added to the list of things that would be invaluable for future trips to (third-world) countries like India. If you are thinking of traveling that way, please feel free to look me, or my travel partenrs up, and accept my suggestion of the following items to make your holiday just a little more comfortable: earplugs (for trains and hotels, planes and taxis, these are a must!), a first aid kit (yes, we really did travel without one of these), antibiotics (and without these. too), a sleeping bag cover (this would have been very useful in all of the dirty places we had to sleep or sit), more than one sports bra (for day two of the camel safari when the camels gallop, rather than walk), a flashlight, and a mobile phone (with a Ricco-style, attached safety cord so that your lame-ass doesn't lose it on the first day, Greg).
And to anyone who is going, I wish you gambatte, good luck, and God speed. It will be an experience that you will not forget.
I have vowed that next time I want to go somewhere, I am going to take a holiday. I am going to go somewhere where relaxing will be part of my day. Where my bikini will be required, and hot showers expected (I might even take with me a tall, handsome man to fan me with peacock feathers and feed me olives, and I am not even joking for one second...).
But, in retrospect, this experience has been incredible. And it couldn't have happened without the help of some incredible and amazing people.
For starters, India was brought to us by the letters 'L' and 'P'. Without our Lonely Planet guidebook, our tour in India would have truly been a failure.
Special thanks also go to the following:
To Mike (the peacemaker), Greg (the navigator), and Michele (the Italian), my awesome travel partners. It could have been a lot harder, but it wasn't. The mix of personalities really went together in a way that worked. It wasn't always flowers and roses, but we did an amazing job with what we had.
To Leila, Brian, Greg and Amy: thank you for getting us to and from the airports with all of our bags. You were absolutely necessary, and are in our debt.
To Rachel: For your promise to bring me Lysol from America. Without it, my apartment, and my belongings, would be ruined for life. I am anticipating the moment of delousing already.
For Patrick: One of my number one pals, who was also indefinitely responsible for keeping me sane. His bi-weekly Facebook chats kept my mind free and easy, and my connection to the real world strong. My deepest gratitude to you, friend.
and lastly, to Jono, whose gifts kept me organized (with the very useful friendship-bracelet backpack) and warm (with your knitted hat and socks). I apologize in advance for the delousing that will have to occur in order for your belongings to be usable again, but am grateful nonetheless.
After two weeks to think about it and reflect, I have added to the list of things that would be invaluable for future trips to (third-world) countries like India. If you are thinking of traveling that way, please feel free to look me, or my travel partenrs up, and accept my suggestion of the following items to make your holiday just a little more comfortable: earplugs (for trains and hotels, planes and taxis, these are a must!), a first aid kit (yes, we really did travel without one of these), antibiotics (and without these. too), a sleeping bag cover (this would have been very useful in all of the dirty places we had to sleep or sit), more than one sports bra (for day two of the camel safari when the camels gallop, rather than walk), a flashlight, and a mobile phone (with a Ricco-style, attached safety cord so that your lame-ass doesn't lose it on the first day, Greg).
And to anyone who is going, I wish you gambatte, good luck, and God speed. It will be an experience that you will not forget.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Because
Last night, under the stars in the desert dunes of Rajastan, I laid awake for 2 good hours and wrote 67 pages of blog in my head. Now, in a dirty internet cafe within a fort, I will attempt to relive those moments and thoughts into this blog. This will likely be the last serious note I make about India and its impression on me.
It all started with a toilet and a sore throat.
Waking up, freezing cold, in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the night can be frightening, especially when a full bladder is luring you out from under your blanket and into the unknown. Except that on this night, Orion and his belt were waiting for me. And in that brilliant instant when I realized where I was, I immediately was awake and alert, and ready to think about the moment forever. It took me a good three minutes to convince myself that, yes, I did have to go to the bathroom that badly, and no, there was no waiting. So up I went, putting my shoes on, grabbing the tp, and heading out. Next to our six blankets on the sand were mice, scurrying out of my way. Beetles ran out of the way of mice. And for not one moment was I frightened of either.
I crawled back into bed 5 minutes later and bundled up. My throat was feeling a bit sore, and I was cursing my bad luck for getting sick on the end of my journey. But, within an instant, I stopped and really thought about it: two weeks, in one of the dirtiest countries in the world, eating God knows what, putting my fingers God knows where, and I was seriously complaining about a small sore throat (that was gone the next morning, by the way)? Here I was, laying on a cold dune, surrounded by some of the greatest people I know, worrying about the wind over my nose making me sicker and regretting my bad luck. It was at that moment that I stopped, and became immediately thankful for my amazing body and all that it does for me, and the healthy chance to be a part of a world under stars.
I have looked at those stars hundreds of times in my life. Out on the farm as a kid, on the back porches of my girlfriends' houses, and more than once on the beach with friends. I have pointed out the 'W' that makes up Cassiopia, and searched for the familiar Big Dipper countless times. On this night, I was afforded the same opportunity to do it in a world that seems a million miles away. Jono would say, 'To hell with a small world. It's a big giant world, but the people we meet and the experiences we have are no accident...' I completely agree.
When I lived in New Zealand, I often walked to work at the bar under the newly-shown night stars. As I walked towards the Sky Tower in the cool of the night, I would often look up at the beauty above and around me, and instantly be grateful for my time on Earth. I would often think of my mom, and be comforted by the fact that she too lived under those same stars. It was at this time, more than once, that the song 'Because' would come on, and it was those poignent moments that encouraged me to permanantly capture the moment, and those feeling, in one simple word printed on my wrist.
And so it was in the desert, under the stars, 100 miles shy of the borders of Pakistan, where I was reminded of this exact feeling.
There is so much more to it that cannot be captured in words, so I won't even try. But it can be said that during those hours, I was thankful for the many experiences I have, and I was thankful for every person, from my friends to my camel men, who make experiences like this happen.
And it all started with a toilet, a sore throat, and my old friend Orion.
It all started with a toilet and a sore throat.
Waking up, freezing cold, in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the night can be frightening, especially when a full bladder is luring you out from under your blanket and into the unknown. Except that on this night, Orion and his belt were waiting for me. And in that brilliant instant when I realized where I was, I immediately was awake and alert, and ready to think about the moment forever. It took me a good three minutes to convince myself that, yes, I did have to go to the bathroom that badly, and no, there was no waiting. So up I went, putting my shoes on, grabbing the tp, and heading out. Next to our six blankets on the sand were mice, scurrying out of my way. Beetles ran out of the way of mice. And for not one moment was I frightened of either.
I crawled back into bed 5 minutes later and bundled up. My throat was feeling a bit sore, and I was cursing my bad luck for getting sick on the end of my journey. But, within an instant, I stopped and really thought about it: two weeks, in one of the dirtiest countries in the world, eating God knows what, putting my fingers God knows where, and I was seriously complaining about a small sore throat (that was gone the next morning, by the way)? Here I was, laying on a cold dune, surrounded by some of the greatest people I know, worrying about the wind over my nose making me sicker and regretting my bad luck. It was at that moment that I stopped, and became immediately thankful for my amazing body and all that it does for me, and the healthy chance to be a part of a world under stars.
I have looked at those stars hundreds of times in my life. Out on the farm as a kid, on the back porches of my girlfriends' houses, and more than once on the beach with friends. I have pointed out the 'W' that makes up Cassiopia, and searched for the familiar Big Dipper countless times. On this night, I was afforded the same opportunity to do it in a world that seems a million miles away. Jono would say, 'To hell with a small world. It's a big giant world, but the people we meet and the experiences we have are no accident...' I completely agree.
When I lived in New Zealand, I often walked to work at the bar under the newly-shown night stars. As I walked towards the Sky Tower in the cool of the night, I would often look up at the beauty above and around me, and instantly be grateful for my time on Earth. I would often think of my mom, and be comforted by the fact that she too lived under those same stars. It was at this time, more than once, that the song 'Because' would come on, and it was those poignent moments that encouraged me to permanantly capture the moment, and those feeling, in one simple word printed on my wrist.
And so it was in the desert, under the stars, 100 miles shy of the borders of Pakistan, where I was reminded of this exact feeling.
There is so much more to it that cannot be captured in words, so I won't even try. But it can be said that during those hours, I was thankful for the many experiences I have, and I was thankful for every person, from my friends to my camel men, who make experiences like this happen.
And it all started with a toilet, a sore throat, and my old friend Orion.
Camels 1
(as Camels 101 would be a place you could actually learn something useful about these fine, two-humped, fellow mammals...)
My knowledge of camels is about as good as my knowledge of politics,
and rightly so. But there is one camel fact that I have been
regurgitating since high school, thanks to my former science teacher, Mr.
Bechtel, who was always good for a bit of useless, but interesting
information.
As I head out into the desert on a two-day camel safari, I would like to share one of those bits, a bit particularly pertaining to camels, with you...
Did you know that camels were among the first animals to reap the
benefits of the inter-uterine device? You see, herders long ago, not
waning to have the worries of pregnant camels during long trips across
the desert, would insert rocks inside he uterus of the female camels. As you
can imagine, the constant bouncing of the rocks, caused by nothing
more than regular movement of the camels, would ensure hat no baby
camel fetuses were able to begin life within the uterine walls.
Of course, I always wondered how they decided who got the lucky job of
placing the IUD within the camel, but I didn't think it relavant to
ask at the time.
Thanks, Bec. I guess some teachers, and their words, do stick with you for years and years...
My knowledge of camels is about as good as my knowledge of politics,
and rightly so. But there is one camel fact that I have been
regurgitating since high school, thanks to my former science teacher, Mr.
Bechtel, who was always good for a bit of useless, but interesting
information.
As I head out into the desert on a two-day camel safari, I would like to share one of those bits, a bit particularly pertaining to camels, with you...
Did you know that camels were among the first animals to reap the
benefits of the inter-uterine device? You see, herders long ago, not
waning to have the worries of pregnant camels during long trips across
the desert, would insert rocks inside he uterus of the female camels. As you
can imagine, the constant bouncing of the rocks, caused by nothing
more than regular movement of the camels, would ensure hat no baby
camel fetuses were able to begin life within the uterine walls.
Of course, I always wondered how they decided who got the lucky job of
placing the IUD within the camel, but I didn't think it relavant to
ask at the time.
Thanks, Bec. I guess some teachers, and their words, do stick with you for years and years...
Saturday, January 03, 2009
The Magic Tour Bus
I think we all almost died last night.
Our first overnight bus experience was, as the Lonely Planet urged, death-defying. Knowing full well that overnight drivers are reckless and fast, we boarded anyway, tickets in hand, to get to our transit city of Jodhpur.
We picked up a few people on the way, although the driver barely stopped for them to get on, and often only slowed down to a crawl. We'd hear the squealing of brakes, the door open, and the driver yell 'Johdpur?!?!' at the top of his lungs as unsuspecting and uncaring Indians managed their way on board. Within five minutes of the bus slamming itself through the city, Michele and I, both sick to our stomaches, popped back Dramamine, and waited.
The driver was going somewhere between 120 and 180 kph up and down hills, and during the first hour, came so close to the edges of cliffs that I, half asleep by this time, held on for dear life as best as I could.
But, during our first restroom break, Mike chatted up some other foreigners, finding out that they travel the same route often.. They seemed at ease and familiar with the jostling and bustling of the bus, that with every application of the breaks, squeaked and squealed like a woman screaming. But, at that moment, knowing that others were unafraid, I became the same. And for the rest of the trip I rested easily (thank you Dramamine), and truthfully, sort of enjoyed it.
This morning, I am thankful, to the greatest extent, for the drug Dramamine.
Our first overnight bus experience was, as the Lonely Planet urged, death-defying. Knowing full well that overnight drivers are reckless and fast, we boarded anyway, tickets in hand, to get to our transit city of Jodhpur.
We picked up a few people on the way, although the driver barely stopped for them to get on, and often only slowed down to a crawl. We'd hear the squealing of brakes, the door open, and the driver yell 'Johdpur?!?!' at the top of his lungs as unsuspecting and uncaring Indians managed their way on board. Within five minutes of the bus slamming itself through the city, Michele and I, both sick to our stomaches, popped back Dramamine, and waited.
The driver was going somewhere between 120 and 180 kph up and down hills, and during the first hour, came so close to the edges of cliffs that I, half asleep by this time, held on for dear life as best as I could.
But, during our first restroom break, Mike chatted up some other foreigners, finding out that they travel the same route often.. They seemed at ease and familiar with the jostling and bustling of the bus, that with every application of the breaks, squeaked and squealed like a woman screaming. But, at that moment, knowing that others were unafraid, I became the same. And for the rest of the trip I rested easily (thank you Dramamine), and truthfully, sort of enjoyed it.
This morning, I am thankful, to the greatest extent, for the drug Dramamine.
Friday, January 02, 2009
Strength
Oh Lord, give us strength.
Today we checked out of our hotel at 10 am and have been wondering the city aimlessly while our luggage rested in the lobby of our hotel. There have been few opportunities to use clean toilets, and no showering.
I sit here at 8pm, India time, and in 2 hours I will be on an overnight bus to Jodhpur. No nice comfy bed for us tonight.
Tomorrow we spend the day sightseeing in Jodhpur, a city that we have been told is disgusting. We arrive there at 5am, and will not be staying the night. Therefore, we are hoping to find a place to store our luggage, and will then spend our day tiredly finding something to do. There will, again, be no resting, napping, or showering.
Tomorrow night at 11pm we board a train for an overnight trip to Jaisalmer. No nice comfy bed for us tomorrow night. No shower. Probably not a clean toilet either.
We arrive at 5am on Sunday morning and check into our (last) hotel. We'll hope for a shower and a rest before exploring Jaisalmer for a day. We will rest comfortably on Sunday night, probably taking advantage of the hot water (maybe even taking two showers, actually).
On Monday afternoon, we again store our luggage and head into the desert on camels for an overnight safari. Although this will be rock-star cool, we'll be sleeping on cots in the sand, and roughing it for a night in the cold, bare desert. There will be no comfy beds, or showers. Probably not a clean toilet either.
We come back Tuesday morning and pick up our luggage, only to go straight to the train station to catch a 20 hour, overnight train to Delhi.
We arrive on Wednesday morning, and will head to a hotel to recoup, shower, and a bit of rest, before heading out, aimlessly, to again suffer in Delhi.
Our flight leaves out of Delhi at 4am on Thursday morning. We'll be traveling for 20 hours, with a 5 hour layover in Hong Kong (hello, Burger King!), before arriving back in Nagoya at 9pm on Thursday evening. We anticipate rolling into the Bel at around 11.
The moral of this story? 6 nights, one hotel room, very few showers, and dirty toilets.
And just when we thought our vacation was starting to get good.
But, Miche reminds me that, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. If Indian people don't live in luxury, why should we?
Either way, please, somebody, send us some strength...
Today we checked out of our hotel at 10 am and have been wondering the city aimlessly while our luggage rested in the lobby of our hotel. There have been few opportunities to use clean toilets, and no showering.
I sit here at 8pm, India time, and in 2 hours I will be on an overnight bus to Jodhpur. No nice comfy bed for us tonight.
Tomorrow we spend the day sightseeing in Jodhpur, a city that we have been told is disgusting. We arrive there at 5am, and will not be staying the night. Therefore, we are hoping to find a place to store our luggage, and will then spend our day tiredly finding something to do. There will, again, be no resting, napping, or showering.
Tomorrow night at 11pm we board a train for an overnight trip to Jaisalmer. No nice comfy bed for us tomorrow night. No shower. Probably not a clean toilet either.
We arrive at 5am on Sunday morning and check into our (last) hotel. We'll hope for a shower and a rest before exploring Jaisalmer for a day. We will rest comfortably on Sunday night, probably taking advantage of the hot water (maybe even taking two showers, actually).
On Monday afternoon, we again store our luggage and head into the desert on camels for an overnight safari. Although this will be rock-star cool, we'll be sleeping on cots in the sand, and roughing it for a night in the cold, bare desert. There will be no comfy beds, or showers. Probably not a clean toilet either.
We come back Tuesday morning and pick up our luggage, only to go straight to the train station to catch a 20 hour, overnight train to Delhi.
We arrive on Wednesday morning, and will head to a hotel to recoup, shower, and a bit of rest, before heading out, aimlessly, to again suffer in Delhi.
Our flight leaves out of Delhi at 4am on Thursday morning. We'll be traveling for 20 hours, with a 5 hour layover in Hong Kong (hello, Burger King!), before arriving back in Nagoya at 9pm on Thursday evening. We anticipate rolling into the Bel at around 11.
The moral of this story? 6 nights, one hotel room, very few showers, and dirty toilets.
And just when we thought our vacation was starting to get good.
But, Miche reminds me that, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. If Indian people don't live in luxury, why should we?
Either way, please, somebody, send us some strength...
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
A change in the tide
Maybe it is fitting that along with a new year we are experiencing a new India, an India that we love and feel safe in. Maybe we were bound to have to go the hard yards before settling down. Either way, I can safely say that our appreciation of this country, and it's people, has greatened completely.
Yesterday we took a 10-hour bus ride through landscape that was continually changing. For the first time, we saw elephants. Wild elephants, free to roam the fields, majestic and giant, not even realizing how big they really are. We were able to smile at naked babies dancing in fields while mothers collected grains, and let the wind of the desert dunes and rocky cliffs breeze our faces. We talked of the old year, of our strengths, and what we expect from the new. For the entire 10 hours, not one of us was bored, sick, or unsatisfied.
We arrived in Udiapur at 8pm on New Year's eve, and were immediately enthralled at the bazaar- and shop-lined streets we passed on our way to our hotel. We were instantly rejuvinated at the bright lights and cleanliness, and the friendliest people we have met so far. And we hadn't even unlocked the treasure of Udaipur yet...
Udaipur is the fairy tale city, and is not wrongly named. If I could imagine what Monacco looked like, I think it would be like this. There are two castles on the lake (the only bodies of water in this Indian state) that were so spectacularly lit that night that we lost our breath looking at them. Along both sides of the banks of the riverlake are beatifully built Taj-looking domed hotels, hotel after hotel after hotel, each draped with a different color of Christmas-style lights. And our hotel, as all others, afforded beautiful rooftop views of it all. This is where we spent the last few hours of our year, dancing, drinking, and eating under the stars, along the bright river, with amazing travelers from all over the world, whose stories, collectively, could fill hundreds and hundreds of pages.
Now we're ready to tackle India for 6 more days. We are anticipating that the first six of 2009, as well as the many that will follow will really be super.
Maybe it is fitting for it to be that way.
Namaste, and happy new year.
Yesterday we took a 10-hour bus ride through landscape that was continually changing. For the first time, we saw elephants. Wild elephants, free to roam the fields, majestic and giant, not even realizing how big they really are. We were able to smile at naked babies dancing in fields while mothers collected grains, and let the wind of the desert dunes and rocky cliffs breeze our faces. We talked of the old year, of our strengths, and what we expect from the new. For the entire 10 hours, not one of us was bored, sick, or unsatisfied.
We arrived in Udiapur at 8pm on New Year's eve, and were immediately enthralled at the bazaar- and shop-lined streets we passed on our way to our hotel. We were instantly rejuvinated at the bright lights and cleanliness, and the friendliest people we have met so far. And we hadn't even unlocked the treasure of Udaipur yet...
Udaipur is the fairy tale city, and is not wrongly named. If I could imagine what Monacco looked like, I think it would be like this. There are two castles on the lake (the only bodies of water in this Indian state) that were so spectacularly lit that night that we lost our breath looking at them. Along both sides of the banks of the riverlake are beatifully built Taj-looking domed hotels, hotel after hotel after hotel, each draped with a different color of Christmas-style lights. And our hotel, as all others, afforded beautiful rooftop views of it all. This is where we spent the last few hours of our year, dancing, drinking, and eating under the stars, along the bright river, with amazing travelers from all over the world, whose stories, collectively, could fill hundreds and hundreds of pages.
Now we're ready to tackle India for 6 more days. We are anticipating that the first six of 2009, as well as the many that will follow will really be super.
Maybe it is fitting for it to be that way.
Namaste, and happy new year.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Cow Question
If I thought my grandpa Foreman read this blog, I would ask him the following question:
'Grandpa, is it possible for a cow to have both udders and horns?'
I'm no bovine expert, but the cows in India sometimes have both, which leave my fellow, (and coincidentally lactose-intolerant) travel companions, and I, quite confused.
Any help with this one? Anyone?
'Grandpa, is it possible for a cow to have both udders and horns?'
I'm no bovine expert, but the cows in India sometimes have both, which leave my fellow, (and coincidentally lactose-intolerant) travel companions, and I, quite confused.
Any help with this one? Anyone?
Monday, December 29, 2008
Finally
We've arrived in the India we imagined. Big city, non-crowded, great architecture, less poverty, and shopping malls.
Thank you to whatever God you have all been praying to on our behalfs. Miche and I are profound with gratitude.
The getting here, though, wasn't without its side-effects. Paint a picture if you will...
We effortlessly get on the first bus this morning, leaving Agra, immediately meet some real chummy gringos (as Mike would say), and have a nice, tolerabe ride. We enjoy the sites of our travel-between city called Fata-fata-fata-something-or-another, and have a nice Indian lunch on a rooftop restaurant.
Then we tried to catch the second bus from the Fata-fata-something bus baazar, (where 'bus baazar' actually means 'stand on the side of a busy road and try to catch the first bus that comes along'). Gulp. So, four gringos with eight packs are standing there, on the side of the road, hoping that what we are doing is correct. Consider, as well, that at anytime, we are trusting fate to put us on the right bus at the right time going to the right destination, as nobody actually speaks enough English to tell us, nor are there signs or civilization to tell us where to go. For about 20 minutes of panic, we stood there, hoping we were in the right place, letting bus after bus pass us for reason of being too full.
Finally, when we were ready to get in a cab and admit defeat, a bus came plowing down the highway. My words to Mike were, 'Here comes a bus! At a million miles per hour...'. The bus in mention halted to a stop in front of us and gladly picked us up with barely room to spare.
From that moment on, though, the day got better and better. The bus ride was actually truly enjoyable. All 5 hours of it. The drivers are MANIACS, driving on any side of the road they wish (again, why bother with lanes, right?), and have no problem trying to get us there as quickly as possible (which we actually appreciated). Greg and I had the luxury of sitting in the front 'cab' of the bus where the drivers sat, and had a good time.
The highlight of the day: Arriving in Jaipur and seeing sensibilty and civility, and rocking up to the nicest hotel any of us have possibly stayed in. The floors are clean, the service impeccable, and the food amazing (or so I hear - I haven't tried it yet, as you will read below). There is even a pool and a small lawn for soccer, an in-house library, and (yay!) hot water. We feel very, very lucky.
The low point of the day (read with caution): The bathroom break during our bus ride. A squat box, as usual, minus the hole in the ground. Just a tile floor and two bricks for your feet. Needless to say, three hours later, I still do not have an appetite.
Thank you to whatever God you have all been praying to on our behalfs. Miche and I are profound with gratitude.
The getting here, though, wasn't without its side-effects. Paint a picture if you will...
We effortlessly get on the first bus this morning, leaving Agra, immediately meet some real chummy gringos (as Mike would say), and have a nice, tolerabe ride. We enjoy the sites of our travel-between city called Fata-fata-fata-something-or-another, and have a nice Indian lunch on a rooftop restaurant.
Then we tried to catch the second bus from the Fata-fata-something bus baazar, (where 'bus baazar' actually means 'stand on the side of a busy road and try to catch the first bus that comes along'). Gulp. So, four gringos with eight packs are standing there, on the side of the road, hoping that what we are doing is correct. Consider, as well, that at anytime, we are trusting fate to put us on the right bus at the right time going to the right destination, as nobody actually speaks enough English to tell us, nor are there signs or civilization to tell us where to go. For about 20 minutes of panic, we stood there, hoping we were in the right place, letting bus after bus pass us for reason of being too full.
Finally, when we were ready to get in a cab and admit defeat, a bus came plowing down the highway. My words to Mike were, 'Here comes a bus! At a million miles per hour...'. The bus in mention halted to a stop in front of us and gladly picked us up with barely room to spare.
From that moment on, though, the day got better and better. The bus ride was actually truly enjoyable. All 5 hours of it. The drivers are MANIACS, driving on any side of the road they wish (again, why bother with lanes, right?), and have no problem trying to get us there as quickly as possible (which we actually appreciated). Greg and I had the luxury of sitting in the front 'cab' of the bus where the drivers sat, and had a good time.
The highlight of the day: Arriving in Jaipur and seeing sensibilty and civility, and rocking up to the nicest hotel any of us have possibly stayed in. The floors are clean, the service impeccable, and the food amazing (or so I hear - I haven't tried it yet, as you will read below). There is even a pool and a small lawn for soccer, an in-house library, and (yay!) hot water. We feel very, very lucky.
The low point of the day (read with caution): The bathroom break during our bus ride. A squat box, as usual, minus the hole in the ground. Just a tile floor and two bricks for your feet. Needless to say, three hours later, I still do not have an appetite.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
The Taj
Let's just say that if I ever die giving birth to my husband's fourteenth child, I surely expect a labor of love as grandeour as the Taj Mahal.
Wow.
We arrived, first at the gate, eager for tickets. While the boys went to scrounge some 5am brekky, we sat and waited and waited in a line of tourists next to a line of Indians.
Two hours later, we walked into the monument, and the Taj herself was hiding shyly behind the mist. For about an hour she danced in and out of the fog, barely affording us a view. Yet, during this peaceful hour at sunrise, as we sat on a step and watched in awe, she was her most beautiful.
The closer I got the less impressed I was, and not becuase she isn't worth being impressed by, but that from a distance is the best way to appreciate her.
My favorite part, though, was stopping every few hundred meters and taking some of the most fantastic, candid, fun, and inappropriate pictures with Mike and Miche. We took so, so many incredible shots, which made the experience even better. The people you travel with really, really do make a difference.
----
Disclaimer (repeated from blog post 27.12): The worst decision of what I should have brought but didn't? My laptop, for which with, documenting this whole thing, as well as keeping in touch with (and receiving support from?) our friends and family would have allowed us to do.
The pictures taken today, other days, and in the future also would be online by now. I have cursed this decision more than once, and from it add travel advice number 6: Never travel to India without your laptop. Sigh...
Wow.
We arrived, first at the gate, eager for tickets. While the boys went to scrounge some 5am brekky, we sat and waited and waited in a line of tourists next to a line of Indians.
Two hours later, we walked into the monument, and the Taj herself was hiding shyly behind the mist. For about an hour she danced in and out of the fog, barely affording us a view. Yet, during this peaceful hour at sunrise, as we sat on a step and watched in awe, she was her most beautiful.
The closer I got the less impressed I was, and not becuase she isn't worth being impressed by, but that from a distance is the best way to appreciate her.
My favorite part, though, was stopping every few hundred meters and taking some of the most fantastic, candid, fun, and inappropriate pictures with Mike and Miche. We took so, so many incredible shots, which made the experience even better. The people you travel with really, really do make a difference.
----
Disclaimer (repeated from blog post 27.12): The worst decision of what I should have brought but didn't? My laptop, for which with, documenting this whole thing, as well as keeping in touch with (and receiving support from?) our friends and family would have allowed us to do.
The pictures taken today, other days, and in the future also would be online by now. I have cursed this decision more than once, and from it add travel advice number 6: Never travel to India without your laptop. Sigh...
Friday, December 26, 2008
Advice.
Dear fellow travelers,
Let me talk to you a bit about traveling, and prepare you with advice that might help you in future planned trips.
1. Never go to India without a plan.
Upon booking this trip two months ago, Mike and Miche and I sat down to do some planning. Distressed by the amount of effort going into it, and the inability to wrap our heads around what we really wanted to do, we decided to just get to India and go with the flow.
2. Never go with the flow in India.
The flow will never, ever go with you. Imagine, for example our shock to find out that trains anywhere in India need to be reserved up to 20 days in advance. Now, imagine our heightened shock to find this out the night before we were planning on going to the next city on the train tickets that we wanted to by right then and there.-
3. In India, what can go wrong, will go wrong.
And we aren't kidding about this one. Hotels? Booked. Trains? Booked. Private drivers? Expensive. Diarrhea? Eminent.
4. Expect to compromise.
Four people, traveling for different purposes and interests are bound to knock heads. And that hurts. A helpful tip? Never go to India without a plan...
Let me talk to you a bit about traveling, and prepare you with advice that might help you in future planned trips.
1. Never go to India without a plan.
Upon booking this trip two months ago, Mike and Miche and I sat down to do some planning. Distressed by the amount of effort going into it, and the inability to wrap our heads around what we really wanted to do, we decided to just get to India and go with the flow.
2. Never go with the flow in India.
The flow will never, ever go with you. Imagine, for example our shock to find out that trains anywhere in India need to be reserved up to 20 days in advance. Now, imagine our heightened shock to find this out the night before we were planning on going to the next city on the train tickets that we wanted to by right then and there.-
3. In India, what can go wrong, will go wrong.
And we aren't kidding about this one. Hotels? Booked. Trains? Booked. Private drivers? Expensive. Diarrhea? Eminent.
4. Expect to compromise.
Four people, traveling for different purposes and interests are bound to knock heads. And that hurts. A helpful tip? Never go to India without a plan...
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Surivor: India
Who needs Jeff Probst? I am in Survivor mode. Luckily, watching the last 17 seasons of my favorite reality show has prepared me to be ready to adapt to the following rules:
1. Don't drink the water.
2. Be careful what you eat.
3. Your toilet is a hole in the ground.
4. Don't trust anyone.
5. Keep your belongings safe.
Luckily, my fellow travelers and I have no intention of voting anyone out of this journey...
1. Don't drink the water.
2. Be careful what you eat.
3. Your toilet is a hole in the ground.
4. Don't trust anyone.
5. Keep your belongings safe.
Luckily, my fellow travelers and I have no intention of voting anyone out of this journey...
Weary Travelers
We arrived... frightened, dirty, hungry, and tired.
I remember boarding the plane last night, seeing all of the saris and turbans, and asking to Miche and Mike, 'Who the hell's idea was it to go to India for Christmas?' Greece is sounding pretty good right now...
I will not bite my nails the entire time I am here. I actually fear to put my fingers anywhere near my mouth. And walking barefoot in our hotel? Forget it.
India is incredible, and hard. So far, I don't love it, but we are slowly developing a mutual like for each other. I do love the food (we had our first meal today - Indian, which of course is just called 'food' here). We had a Christmas lunch of curry and nan after attending the most horrible mass. It was insisted upon by Mike, and we willingly went along, knowing it would be beneficial to pray for our souls.
So we are here. A bit frightened, still. Very dirty. Very tired. But enjoying ourselves the best that we can.
I remember boarding the plane last night, seeing all of the saris and turbans, and asking to Miche and Mike, 'Who the hell's idea was it to go to India for Christmas?' Greece is sounding pretty good right now...
I will not bite my nails the entire time I am here. I actually fear to put my fingers anywhere near my mouth. And walking barefoot in our hotel? Forget it.
India is incredible, and hard. So far, I don't love it, but we are slowly developing a mutual like for each other. I do love the food (we had our first meal today - Indian, which of course is just called 'food' here). We had a Christmas lunch of curry and nan after attending the most horrible mass. It was insisted upon by Mike, and we willingly went along, knowing it would be beneficial to pray for our souls.
So we are here. A bit frightened, still. Very dirty. Very tired. But enjoying ourselves the best that we can.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
India
Well, off to another adventure. This time: India. Last year at this time it was off to Bali, for a great holiday alone. This time, I'll be traveling with two of my best buds, Mike and Michele, and we're planning on having a phenomenal time.
For the first time ever I am going to be a backpacker. I celebrated this important moment with the purchase of my very first travel backpack/suitcase. You know, the kind that most dirty, grimy backpackers wear when they travel all over the world? I didn't pay a lot of money for it, as I am hoping that traveling this way will not be something I do often. I prefer a roll-along suitcase, planned stays in hotels, and semi-nice clothing to wear. Instead, I am going to be living out of a backpack, staying in hostels, and recycling my clothes whenever possible. But hey, at least I won't be doing it alone.
Here are a few questions you might be wondering:
You: Wendy, how much Indian do you know?
Wendy: None. Not a single word.
You: And what are you planning on doing when you get there?
Wendy: Beats me. We only have four nights actually booked, and past that, we're hopelessly leaving it up to fate and good advice.
You: Is it going to be safe in India?
Wendy: Probably not. But I am traveling with three Canadians. Terrorists love Canadians, eh?
You: What are you most excited for in India?
Wendy: I am not sure what I am looking forward to the most in India, whether it be the yummy curry or the diarrhea. Likely the curry. Either way, it should be very interesting.
You: What have you done to prepare for India?
Wendy: Well, since school has ended, I have not showered or bathed as much as usual. I have tried to find and practice in as many squatting toilets as possible, and have been feverishly collecting street-packages of toilet paper.
What a long, strange trip it'll be...
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