Bedridden Backpackers
Alright, we made it to Agra, home of the extraordinary Taj Mahal, and . . . we both got sick. Megan got a mean case of stomach problems, which equals extremely high toilet paper expenses . . . . $1/roll x lotsa rolls, while I had a wicked chest infection. Between Megan’s 416 trips to the toilet and my 103 degree fevers, we were a pretty sad sight. Fortunately, we were able to get in a comfortable AC room with rock solid cable TV to weather the storm. The downside of our maladies was we had to wait 4 days before seeing the Taj Mahal. The upside of downtime was catching hilarious TV commercials on the Indian networks. Our favorite was an ad for Cobra Sparkling Water. The family attorney is reading the recently deceased patriarch’s will. Just as one of the son’s takes a refreshing gulp of his Cobra beverage, the lawyer announces that Tansabai, the super hot family maid, is the sole heir to his fortune. Everyone gasps but the one son who just took a swig. Instead, he congratulates the sexy housekeeper and tells his family that she deserved it. “Cobra . . . so smooth, anything goes down well.” We love it. So after countless rolls of TP, bottles of Sprite, corny commercials, and few days of cippro, we were finally back on our feet.
The next morning, we made the short trip to the Taj Mahal on foot, bought tickets, and cruised into the beautiful grounds. We’d heard that the Taj wasn’t that impressive . . . . looks just like the pictures, not that big, blah blah blah. I’d say we were fairly impressed if not overwhelmed. The ruler of India, Shah Jahan, had the thing built as a memorial to his wife who died while in labor to their 14th child. 14 kids . . . figured they were Catholics (actually Muslims).
To the Desert
Varanasi was rough. The Taj Mahal was cool. Where next? We’d heard good things about Rajasthan State from other travelers . . . . quiet, beautiful, natural place. We decided to check it out. We caught a bus out of Agra in the morning. About 10 hours and a couple more buses later, we arrived in Pushkar. This friendly dude, Monte, approached us on the last bus ride of the day and told us about his family’s hotel . . . quiet place with a nice swimming pool about 10 minutes walk to the center of town. We told him we’d check it out and we were glad we did. It was a nice place to recover from the bustling cities. We hung out for a few days around the pool, had pleasant dinners in town overlooking the lake, and took a couple leisurely walks. I played cowboy for a few hours one afternoon and went for a horseback ride through the surrounding area, which was a great trip through the dry desert country and tiny villages outside of town. We didn’t do a whole hell of a lot in Pushkar (there isn’t a lot to do), which was exactly what we needed. After a few days and nights, we headed to Jaisalmer.
Papu and Lalu
We boarded a “tourist” bus shortly after midnight, going west to Jailsalmer. Megan was close to tears getting on the bus . . . there was no mystery as to what kind of ride it would be. People and goods were strewn everywhere. We tiptoed over people and all their worldly possessions on our way back to our sleeping cabin, which was a cramped pillbox, suspended above the seated passengers. I have to give the bus operators credit for achieving the same level of chaos within their bus as we’ve experienced on the busy city streets of India. 12 bumpy hours later, we made it to our destination. Tear free.
Jaisalmer is known for a couple things: a huge old fort and camel safaris. We experienced the best of both. We found a really terrific place to stay inside the fort, Hotel DeepMahal. The owner, Johnnie, and his right hand man, Lucky, were excellent guys. Our room was beautiful . . . very Alladin. We enjoyed a couple of relaxing days in the fort before we headed out on a 3 day/2 night camel safari, the primary purpose of our visit. We left the hotel around 8:30 in the morning, headed west for Pakistan (which of course we did not go into . . . . but we were actually quite close, around 50 km away). About an hour later, Johnnie pulled the car over in the middle of nowhere, where 3 camels and 2 camel men awaited us. We got acquainted with Matar (lead camel man and guide), Guman (14 year old guide in training), Papu (6 year old male camel), Lalu (4 year old male), and Jshogi (2 year old female in safari training). I was assigned to Papu while Megan got Lalu. After a couple minutes of introductions, we strapped our packs on the camels, jumped in the saddles, and next thing we know, we were perched high in the air on top of some funny looking creatures. There’s not much to riding a camel . . . you’re a pro in 30 minutes. You just hold on and rock.
We bounced through the scrub and dunes for a few hours before coming to a halt at a small grove of trees. There, we rested for several hours, taking lunch and playing cards. Matar whipped up a delicious lunch of curry and chapatti while Guman tended to the camels. We settled in under a tree, content knowing that we had another 2 ½ days of peace, quiet, good food, and enjoyable company in friendly Matar and Guman. Once the sun dropped a fair bit in the sky, we set off for our evening destination, Bunda Dunes. We arrived at the dunes about an hour before sunset. Matar prepared some tasty chai tea and spread a blanket for us to enjoy the remains of the day. It was a gorgeous sunset followed by a beautiful night sky. We enjoyed a nice dinner by the campfire, sang some desert songs, then called it a night, falling asleep under a blanket of stars.
The next morning, we awoke just before sunrise. Matar was busy preparing a basic breakfast of toast with jam and porridge. We enjoyed the simple meal while the sun climbed above the horizon of the dusty desert. Shortly after, we climbed aboard our trusty camels and headed off. The itinerary was pretty much the same as the first day . . . ride camels through the middle of nowhere for a few hours, break for a long lunch, a couple more hours of riding, finally arriving at a big sand dune shortly before sunset. It was great. I was concerned we might get bored, but we didn’t. The scenery managed to change enough to keep the eyes interested, and every once in a while, we came across a small village where we’d take a short break to preserve our backs and bottoms. The second day was just as nice as the first. That evening, we could hear praying in the nearby Muslim village, which also happened to be home to Matar and Guman.
We awoke the last day, caught another breathtaking sunrise, then headed east back towards Jaisalmer. We arrived in Matar and Guman’s village after an hour in the saddle. We took a walk around town and eventually made our way to Matar’s family home. His mother prepared us a delicious chai and slices of papaya. The village children crowded around . . . very curious as to who we were. We made funny faces, played games, and joked around. After an hour in the village, we had to push on. A little later, we stopped by a small river where we took our last delicious meal with Matar and Guman. Around 4:00 pm, we boarded Papu and Lalu for the last time and did the short ride to the pickup point, where a smiling Lucky arrived shorty.
We said a long goodbye to Matar and Guman and thanked them for the wonderful experience. The trip was amazing, providing a really intimate peak into life in the desert and within its simple villages. The people there lead by far the most basic, undeveloped lives we’ve seen on the trip. Most villages did not have power. People cooked over wood fires. Many people had to walk up to a couple miles just to fetch drinking water. In spite of their complete material poverty, they seemed remarkably happy, never lacking a smile, rarely asking for a handout. The desert itself was beautiful . . .. flawless sunrise and sunset everyday, not a single cloud in the sky for 3 days. The temperature was nice . . . . not too hot during the day with refreshingly cool nights. The safari was definitely the most enjoyable time we’ve spent in India and one of the top experiences of the entire trip.
My only complaint was the fact that Megan’s camel had a bit of a gas problem, and unfortunately, Papu and I had to follow. At least, she said it was Lalu.
Closeout India
After one last beautiful evening in the fort in Jaisalmer, we hopped on the Jaisalmer-Delhi Express, which is the name of the daily train between the remote outpost and the country’s chaotic capitol. We arrived in Delhi 21 hours later, around 2:00 pm, and caught an auto-rickshaw to Paharganj (the city’s backpacker area). We checked into a nice little hotel, which had been recommended by a friendly couple in Agra. The primary goal of the day was getting clean and relaxing, which we accomplished easily. The next day (yesterday), we caught a cycle-rickshaw to Old Delhi. The highlights of the area include the Red Fort, Jamal Masjid (India’s largest mosque and Shah Jahan’s final architectural achievement as ruler), and its ancient markets. Our first destination was the Red Fort, which was actually a bit disappointing, unfortunately. Before falling ill in Agra, I made it to the Agra Fort, which was spectacular . . . the Red Fort was a bit of a letdown. Oh well, they can’t all be winners. From there, we made the short trip between the fort and mosque on foot, passing through the myriad of shops in the chaotic bazaars. We arrived at the mosque shortly after 1:00. We had to wait until 1:45 to enter to allow the early afternoon prayer to finish. Upon entering the mosque, I tried to envision the thousands of faithful I’ve seen praying there on television during Muslim holidays. The building itself was quite simple, not ornate at all, but impressive in its shear size. We paid the small fee to climb the southern minaret, which provided 360 degree views of Delhi. It seemed like such a quiet, orderly city from so high up . . . it reminded me of Megan’s comments in Varanasi about India’s beauty from a distance.
After several hours in Old Delhi, we headed to New Delhi for a bit of comfort. We sipped tasty teas and delicious coffees in an upscale coffee house most of the afternoon. Afterwards, we enjoyed a bit of pizza at a Pizza Hut. That evening, we caught a Bollywood flick at what must have been one of the city and country’s oldest theaters . . . old in a good way. The basic plot of the movie was young girl forced to move from Varanasi to Bombay in search of a high paying job to cover the family’s mortgage and father’s medical bills back home. Unfortunately, due to her lack of skills, she is forced to become a prostitute. Fortunately, all’s well that ends well . . . poppa overcomes his heart ailment, the house is saved, and the young girl finds love in the arms of a rich IT guy. Happy ending. The movie was entirely in Hindi with a lot of singing and dancing . . . However, it was easy to follow and remarkably entertaining.
The one thing I forgot to mention in the last blog, was our unexpected casting in a Bollywood movie while in Varanasi. We were walking along the Ganges one afternoon when someone called our attention. A scene was being shot on the banks of the river, and the director asked us if we wouldn’t mind appearing. I’d like to think it was our “star quality” that got us the role, but I’m thinking it was probably more the fact that we were the first white people to walk by . . . not important. Anyway, our job was to be ourselves (tourists). The scene was Megan and I having a relaxed conversation by the river, when all of the sudden, a necklace dealer shows up. I ask the guy how much. He says 10 rupees. I hand him ten rupees and take a necklace. We say thanks . . . scene over. 10 seconds of fame . . . Unfortunately, I forgot to ask the guy the name of the movie. So, I’ve assigned Megan the responsibility of watching every Bollywood title made in 2007.
Moving on . . . Today, we’re just relaxing around the hotel, doing a bit of shopping, blogging, etc. before we catch a cab to the international airport this evening. We’re on the 1:05 am redeye to Bangkok. From there, we’ll head south to the islands for one last hurrah. As Megan frequently points out, it has been over three months since we’ve been on the beach (sand dunes don’t count). To be honest, I’m looking forward to it as well. The travel gas tank is running low . . . not quite empty, but that little orange “running low” light is on.
India’s been an interesting country to end the serious adventures in. The place is a bit overwhelming . . . . so so so many people and constant filth in “developed” areas. The scenery has included beautiful landscapes, unimaginable slums, and everything in between. It’s been fascinating to say the least.
We’re looking forward to a few more weeks of palm trees, turquoise water, and ice cold beer before undertaking the inevitable and desirable trip home.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
If Nepal was for dinner, we'd have seconds.
Sore Feet, Achy Legs, Perfect Mountains
After catching a tourist bus (less shitty than a public bus. . . but still shitty) from Kathmandu to Pokhara, we checked into a guesthouse, procured a couple rental sleeping bags, grabbed a quick bite, and crashed for the evening. The next morning, we had a nice breakfast, made birthday calls to our sisters, then caught a taxi to Besisahar. From Besisahar, we took a bus down the 7 km jeep trail to Khudi. In Khudi, we started our 210 km march of the Annapurna Circuit Loop Trail through the heart of the Himalayas. The trail starts at 810 meters of elevation. From there, our legs took us about 120 km to a max elevation of 5,400 meters (17,800 feet), before descending the final 90 km to Beni, situated at 1,200 meters . . . . long, slow up then long, slow down.
The hike itself was sensational . . . steep, deep river valleys with rice, potato, and buckwheat fields carved out of the mountain side in the lowlands; lush pine forests at mid-elevations; and rocky, barren mountain landscapes at high elevations. Six, seven, and eight thousand meter peaks filled the skyline in almost all places. Sensory overload for 15 days.
On top of it all . . . . no roughing it. In each of the small villages, of which there are plenty (the trail was created initially as a foot path from village to village over hundreds of years), you’ll find anywhere from 1 to 10 small lodges which will happily provide a warm, comfortable bed at night and a delicious plate of food at a very reasonable price (dhal bat set for $3, Snickers for $0.80, not bad considering a good portion of the food is carried up by porters – human ants carrying 150 lbs).
On the trail, we met up with some Dutch friends we initially met in Lhasa. While in Kathmandu, we had planned to catch up with them at some point. About 9:30 am on our second day of hiking, we saw a couple of hikers waving their walking sticks and shouting enthusiastically . . . we had caught up with Hub and Debbie. It was great having another couple with whom to hike and enjoy the evenings (we were about 2 weeks ahead of the main season, October, so things were extremely quiet on the trail – only 20 hikers a day were starting the trek at that time, we had most lodges to ourselves). In the evenings, Hub and I played Claviese (favorite game of card lovers in the Netherlands), my new favorite card game. Once we crossed the pass into the Mustang territory, we became connoisseurs of the local apple brandy.
All in all, the hike was a terrific time . . . my only complaint is the fact they are in the process of constructing roads up both sides of the pass. This sucks as it will pretty much destroy the whole trekking experience. Unfortunately, a good majority of the people in this remote area think the road will help them (cheaper supply of goods, easier to get vegetables back to bigger towns for sale, etc.). However, when asked where their source of income comes from, the answer is always tourism, which is pretty obvious when in the area . . . In October and November alone, 60,000 trekkers pass through the villages. They understand that trekkers don’t like roads and that it will have a significant, if not cataclysmic, effect on tourism (which they concede is the source of their money . . . . and they have it a hell of a lot better than most Nepalese), but they still think “road is good”. I disagree, but that’s only one man’s opinion. Let’s hope I’m wrong for their sake.
If you do this hike: I’ve only got a couple of tips.
#1 Watch out for the poo . . . . there’s lots of it. There’s more donkey porters than trekkers, so the supply is fresh and copious.
#2 Stay at lodges with a 1+:1 female:male ratio . . . dude’s may try to run a kitchen and lodge, but they generally suck at it. A lady’s touch.is sorely needed high in the mountains. The only exception to this rule is at the High Camp Lodge just before the pass . . . these guys are pros.
#3 Eat as many pastries in Manang as humanly possible . . . . you’re going to be sitting there anyway for an acclimatization day so you might as well consume 11,000 calories of chocolate danishes.
Back to civilization.
After a couple weeks and a day on the trail, we arrived at Beni, the end of the trek. We plopped ourselves on a public bus for the 4 hour rattle back to Pokhara, where all the conveniences of the tourist world awaited . . . endless hot showers, internet, and a wide variety of chow. The next day it rained all day, which is funny because we had spectacular weather the entire trek. We found a couple comfortable chairs at the Bamboostian Teahouse and settled in for a day of movie watching, the perfect activity for our tired bodies. That evening, we met up with Hub and Debbie at the New Everest Steakhouse for some superb cow and a beautiful glass of red wine . . . a nice end to the trek and goodbye dinner.
Holy Rhinos!!!!
The next morning, we boarded a tourist bus for Royal Chitwan National Park to enjoy a couple days of safari living. We found a terrific lodge on the river bordering the park . . . the perfect place to relax before heading to our next destination, the not so relaxing India. The next morning, Megan and I boarded a dugout canoe and headed down the Rhapti River. The highlight of the float was passing a massive old rhino just chilling in the cool water of the river. After 45 minutes, we took the canoe ashore and headed into the dense forest of the park for a jungle walk. Lead by our fearless guides, K-Pee and Usa, we marched through the mangrove swamps, thick bush, and steamy grasslands. We managed to see a number of monkeys (rhesus and langurs), birds, and deer . . . nothing too big or crazy (tiger, elephant, rhino) on the walk. The only problem with the jungle walk was the overabundance of leeches hanging out, just waiting for a warm body. Unfortunately, 6 of the bastards successfully treated themselves to breakfast on Rob. Megan was more successful at swift identification and removal . . . no blood loss for her.
After returning to the lodge, we headed down to the river to watch the elephant bathing, a daily occurrence. I stripped down to my trunks and joined the party. I hopped aboard a younger elephant, which I came to the quick conclusion was minimally trained. Sitting atop an elephant is supposed to be a fun, peaceful experience. This first elephant was more like a rodeo bull. After being bucked back into the river several times, I hung up my spurs and went in search of an older, more sedate elephant. Fortunately, I found a nice 36 year old female (elephant) to ride. I tipped the driver 100 rupees ($1.50) and we headed out into deep water where the old girl proceeded to hose me down a handful of times with her trunk . . . good solid playing with elephants fun.
That afternoon, Megan and I boarded a different elephant and headed into the forest. For a couple of hours we rocked back and forth, spotting a handful of rhinos, including a baby, and several herds of the local deer . . . cool experience. The remainder of our time in Chitwan was spent relaxing at one of two river front places . . . staring at the grasslands and river (we saw a wild elephant several times as well as crocs and gators), doing soduku, reading, and enjoying quiet candle-lit dinners.
Enough of these beautiful mountains, friendly people, and relaxing landscapes . . . let’s go to India.
After a few days and nights in the park, we boarded yet another bus for the sound and fury known as India. We arrived in Sunauli (border) around 2:00 pm, where we grabbed some noodles, changed money, and banged through customs. Next, we piled into a Bolero Jeep with 13 of our closest friends for Gorakhpur. In Gorakhpur , we caught a train for Varanasi, the first destination of most backpackers entering from Nepal.
We arrived in Varanasi around 4:30 am and found a clean, quiet hotel where we crashed for the remainder of the morning. That afternoon, we headed down to the sacred Ganges River to see what the city was all about. I can’t recall the Lonely Planet’s exact description of Varanasi, but I think it goes something like “this idyllic city, located on the picturesque banks of the Ganges River, is the beating heart of Hinduism”. After a couple of minutes (not hours), I believe my wife would probably recommend the following edit “this shithole, located on the garbage strewn banks of the filthiest river in the world, is the stinking armpit of the universe”. The whole go to India thing was not going so well.
First Impression: What is the fastest way to get out of this country?
However, we persevered. Our patience was rewarded with the sight of burning corpses (very sacred Hindu ritual performed on the banks of the Ganges, bodycount numbers 300+/day . . . soul is carried to heaven by the flames/smoke of the fire). This was not my wife’s idea of a vacation . . . tears fell (#7 – I’ve blown my target of 4 times, but all in all, 7 ain’t that bad). We retreated to the rooftop restaurant of one of the riverside guesthouses where we regrouped from the rough start.
We enjoyed a nice lunch, the company of the restaurant crew, and the surprisingly pleasant views of the river and city from there. Megan put it best when she said that, Varanasi is beautiful from a distance, but shit up close. That evening, we watched a religious ceremony at the main bathing ghat (where believers wash in the river), a tribute to the holy river.
The next morning, I awoke at 4:45 am and headed down to the river for a sunrise boat trip (supposedly the nicest time of day). Megan opted to sleep as she was already fully satisfied with her Varanasi experience. I found a young guy to paddle me up and down the Ganges as the new sun cast a warm glow on the riverfront. It was actually really nice. However, I did see a floating corpse at one point, which is also quite common here (they don’t burn 5 types of people . . . children, pregnant women, holy men, unmarried men/women, and cobra bit victims . . . instead they plop them in the river).
I don’t want to seem like I’m mocking the culture or religion . . . it was just a bit much, a bit quick. We left Varanasi on an afternoon train, hoping this was as bad as it got.
Next Up: Agra
We caught a night train to Agra, home of the legendary Taj Mahal. We got in shortly after noon today. We had a very nice Indian fellow in our sleeper cabin. We were asking him about the condition of other cities, relative to Varanasi. Much to our delight, Varanasi was a 10 on the filthy scale, while other cities ranged from 2 to 7 according to this gentleman. What a relief! However, seeing is believing. When we got into Agra, we were pleasantly surprised to find treelined avenues and relatively clean neighborhoods. We’ve only been here a few hours, but things are definitely looking up. Tomorrow, we’re going catch the sunrise over the Taj Mahal, then head to the Agra Fort in the afternoon. It should be great.
From here:
After Agra, we’re headed to Rajasthan, a beautiful desert area west of Delhi . . . every traveler we’ve met seems to love it there.
As far as the volunteering thing goes, saving the world ain’t so easy. We haven’t heard back from our contact in northern India for several weeks. Not sure what happened there, but it doesn’t look like we’re headed north . . . kind of a headscratcher. We’ve got a couple e-mails out to people back in Thailand who can hopefully use some helping hands at the tail end of our trip.
We really love and miss everybody . . . getting close to the end of the trip makes us long for home, but we’re going to push on a week or two more in good old India before heading to Thailand for a bit of R&R and hopefully volunteering.
Big congrats to SKG!!!!!!
After catching a tourist bus (less shitty than a public bus. . . but still shitty) from Kathmandu to Pokhara, we checked into a guesthouse, procured a couple rental sleeping bags, grabbed a quick bite, and crashed for the evening. The next morning, we had a nice breakfast, made birthday calls to our sisters, then caught a taxi to Besisahar. From Besisahar, we took a bus down the 7 km jeep trail to Khudi. In Khudi, we started our 210 km march of the Annapurna Circuit Loop Trail through the heart of the Himalayas. The trail starts at 810 meters of elevation. From there, our legs took us about 120 km to a max elevation of 5,400 meters (17,800 feet), before descending the final 90 km to Beni, situated at 1,200 meters . . . . long, slow up then long, slow down.
The hike itself was sensational . . . steep, deep river valleys with rice, potato, and buckwheat fields carved out of the mountain side in the lowlands; lush pine forests at mid-elevations; and rocky, barren mountain landscapes at high elevations. Six, seven, and eight thousand meter peaks filled the skyline in almost all places. Sensory overload for 15 days.
On top of it all . . . . no roughing it. In each of the small villages, of which there are plenty (the trail was created initially as a foot path from village to village over hundreds of years), you’ll find anywhere from 1 to 10 small lodges which will happily provide a warm, comfortable bed at night and a delicious plate of food at a very reasonable price (dhal bat set for $3, Snickers for $0.80, not bad considering a good portion of the food is carried up by porters – human ants carrying 150 lbs).
On the trail, we met up with some Dutch friends we initially met in Lhasa. While in Kathmandu, we had planned to catch up with them at some point. About 9:30 am on our second day of hiking, we saw a couple of hikers waving their walking sticks and shouting enthusiastically . . . we had caught up with Hub and Debbie. It was great having another couple with whom to hike and enjoy the evenings (we were about 2 weeks ahead of the main season, October, so things were extremely quiet on the trail – only 20 hikers a day were starting the trek at that time, we had most lodges to ourselves). In the evenings, Hub and I played Claviese (favorite game of card lovers in the Netherlands), my new favorite card game. Once we crossed the pass into the Mustang territory, we became connoisseurs of the local apple brandy.
All in all, the hike was a terrific time . . . my only complaint is the fact they are in the process of constructing roads up both sides of the pass. This sucks as it will pretty much destroy the whole trekking experience. Unfortunately, a good majority of the people in this remote area think the road will help them (cheaper supply of goods, easier to get vegetables back to bigger towns for sale, etc.). However, when asked where their source of income comes from, the answer is always tourism, which is pretty obvious when in the area . . . In October and November alone, 60,000 trekkers pass through the villages. They understand that trekkers don’t like roads and that it will have a significant, if not cataclysmic, effect on tourism (which they concede is the source of their money . . . . and they have it a hell of a lot better than most Nepalese), but they still think “road is good”. I disagree, but that’s only one man’s opinion. Let’s hope I’m wrong for their sake.
If you do this hike: I’ve only got a couple of tips.
#1 Watch out for the poo . . . . there’s lots of it. There’s more donkey porters than trekkers, so the supply is fresh and copious.
#2 Stay at lodges with a 1+:1 female:male ratio . . . dude’s may try to run a kitchen and lodge, but they generally suck at it. A lady’s touch.is sorely needed high in the mountains. The only exception to this rule is at the High Camp Lodge just before the pass . . . these guys are pros.
#3 Eat as many pastries in Manang as humanly possible . . . . you’re going to be sitting there anyway for an acclimatization day so you might as well consume 11,000 calories of chocolate danishes.
Back to civilization.
After a couple weeks and a day on the trail, we arrived at Beni, the end of the trek. We plopped ourselves on a public bus for the 4 hour rattle back to Pokhara, where all the conveniences of the tourist world awaited . . . endless hot showers, internet, and a wide variety of chow. The next day it rained all day, which is funny because we had spectacular weather the entire trek. We found a couple comfortable chairs at the Bamboostian Teahouse and settled in for a day of movie watching, the perfect activity for our tired bodies. That evening, we met up with Hub and Debbie at the New Everest Steakhouse for some superb cow and a beautiful glass of red wine . . . a nice end to the trek and goodbye dinner.
Holy Rhinos!!!!
The next morning, we boarded a tourist bus for Royal Chitwan National Park to enjoy a couple days of safari living. We found a terrific lodge on the river bordering the park . . . the perfect place to relax before heading to our next destination, the not so relaxing India. The next morning, Megan and I boarded a dugout canoe and headed down the Rhapti River. The highlight of the float was passing a massive old rhino just chilling in the cool water of the river. After 45 minutes, we took the canoe ashore and headed into the dense forest of the park for a jungle walk. Lead by our fearless guides, K-Pee and Usa, we marched through the mangrove swamps, thick bush, and steamy grasslands. We managed to see a number of monkeys (rhesus and langurs), birds, and deer . . . nothing too big or crazy (tiger, elephant, rhino) on the walk. The only problem with the jungle walk was the overabundance of leeches hanging out, just waiting for a warm body. Unfortunately, 6 of the bastards successfully treated themselves to breakfast on Rob. Megan was more successful at swift identification and removal . . . no blood loss for her.
After returning to the lodge, we headed down to the river to watch the elephant bathing, a daily occurrence. I stripped down to my trunks and joined the party. I hopped aboard a younger elephant, which I came to the quick conclusion was minimally trained. Sitting atop an elephant is supposed to be a fun, peaceful experience. This first elephant was more like a rodeo bull. After being bucked back into the river several times, I hung up my spurs and went in search of an older, more sedate elephant. Fortunately, I found a nice 36 year old female (elephant) to ride. I tipped the driver 100 rupees ($1.50) and we headed out into deep water where the old girl proceeded to hose me down a handful of times with her trunk . . . good solid playing with elephants fun.
That afternoon, Megan and I boarded a different elephant and headed into the forest. For a couple of hours we rocked back and forth, spotting a handful of rhinos, including a baby, and several herds of the local deer . . . cool experience. The remainder of our time in Chitwan was spent relaxing at one of two river front places . . . staring at the grasslands and river (we saw a wild elephant several times as well as crocs and gators), doing soduku, reading, and enjoying quiet candle-lit dinners.
Enough of these beautiful mountains, friendly people, and relaxing landscapes . . . let’s go to India.
After a few days and nights in the park, we boarded yet another bus for the sound and fury known as India. We arrived in Sunauli (border) around 2:00 pm, where we grabbed some noodles, changed money, and banged through customs. Next, we piled into a Bolero Jeep with 13 of our closest friends for Gorakhpur. In Gorakhpur , we caught a train for Varanasi, the first destination of most backpackers entering from Nepal.
We arrived in Varanasi around 4:30 am and found a clean, quiet hotel where we crashed for the remainder of the morning. That afternoon, we headed down to the sacred Ganges River to see what the city was all about. I can’t recall the Lonely Planet’s exact description of Varanasi, but I think it goes something like “this idyllic city, located on the picturesque banks of the Ganges River, is the beating heart of Hinduism”. After a couple of minutes (not hours), I believe my wife would probably recommend the following edit “this shithole, located on the garbage strewn banks of the filthiest river in the world, is the stinking armpit of the universe”. The whole go to India thing was not going so well.
First Impression: What is the fastest way to get out of this country?
However, we persevered. Our patience was rewarded with the sight of burning corpses (very sacred Hindu ritual performed on the banks of the Ganges, bodycount numbers 300+/day . . . soul is carried to heaven by the flames/smoke of the fire). This was not my wife’s idea of a vacation . . . tears fell (#7 – I’ve blown my target of 4 times, but all in all, 7 ain’t that bad). We retreated to the rooftop restaurant of one of the riverside guesthouses where we regrouped from the rough start.
We enjoyed a nice lunch, the company of the restaurant crew, and the surprisingly pleasant views of the river and city from there. Megan put it best when she said that, Varanasi is beautiful from a distance, but shit up close. That evening, we watched a religious ceremony at the main bathing ghat (where believers wash in the river), a tribute to the holy river.
The next morning, I awoke at 4:45 am and headed down to the river for a sunrise boat trip (supposedly the nicest time of day). Megan opted to sleep as she was already fully satisfied with her Varanasi experience. I found a young guy to paddle me up and down the Ganges as the new sun cast a warm glow on the riverfront. It was actually really nice. However, I did see a floating corpse at one point, which is also quite common here (they don’t burn 5 types of people . . . children, pregnant women, holy men, unmarried men/women, and cobra bit victims . . . instead they plop them in the river).
I don’t want to seem like I’m mocking the culture or religion . . . it was just a bit much, a bit quick. We left Varanasi on an afternoon train, hoping this was as bad as it got.
Next Up: Agra
We caught a night train to Agra, home of the legendary Taj Mahal. We got in shortly after noon today. We had a very nice Indian fellow in our sleeper cabin. We were asking him about the condition of other cities, relative to Varanasi. Much to our delight, Varanasi was a 10 on the filthy scale, while other cities ranged from 2 to 7 according to this gentleman. What a relief! However, seeing is believing. When we got into Agra, we were pleasantly surprised to find treelined avenues and relatively clean neighborhoods. We’ve only been here a few hours, but things are definitely looking up. Tomorrow, we’re going catch the sunrise over the Taj Mahal, then head to the Agra Fort in the afternoon. It should be great.
From here:
After Agra, we’re headed to Rajasthan, a beautiful desert area west of Delhi . . . every traveler we’ve met seems to love it there.
As far as the volunteering thing goes, saving the world ain’t so easy. We haven’t heard back from our contact in northern India for several weeks. Not sure what happened there, but it doesn’t look like we’re headed north . . . kind of a headscratcher. We’ve got a couple e-mails out to people back in Thailand who can hopefully use some helping hands at the tail end of our trip.
We really love and miss everybody . . . getting close to the end of the trip makes us long for home, but we’re going to push on a week or two more in good old India before heading to Thailand for a bit of R&R and hopefully volunteering.
Big congrats to SKG!!!!!!
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