things – Page 2 – Travels

Diwali – festival of light and dressing up

Posted on November 2, 2016 by Steve

Location: Right now, Jodhpur, but this post is about Udaipur

Hotel: Discovery Hotel

You need to understand that everything you are about to read is not only true, but happened in a single day on Diwali, Sunday October 30 2016.

My time in Udaipur had been fun – hmmm should I write this in the past tense or pretend and write in the present tense?

Speaking of which, the past, the present and the future walked into a bar. Things got a little tense.

So…my time in Udaipur had been fun. Five days in one place is a good amount of time to get to know it and some people a bit.

This is Kailash and his son outside their shop.

I can’t quite remember how we met – though I am sure it was something like ‘come into my shop, buy something for your wife’ – but we had become good ‘friends’ over a few days. We would sit and talk and drink chai with no pressure to buy – am I repeating myself from the last post? No matter. Keep that thought in mind, it leads to something awesome, but I will tell the day as it more or less happened.

Lots of places have Cooking Class signs and after trying to do one that didn’t happen, I found another. I can’t speak for you, but when we cook Indian food, while it is good, the regular lament is why can’t we make it as good as (whatever) restaurant? This is something up with which I need no longer put.

Three hours, cooking 10 dishes, for R1,000 ($20) was a good deal from Vijay Singh. The plan was to meet at his spice shop at 1000hrs on Sunday and he would take me to his home where his wife would whip me into culinary shape. Ominously, he urged me to come hungry.

That night Francois and 12 friends from the hostel where he was staying came to my hotel for dinner at the rooftop restaurant. I told him about the class and he instantly said yes. My kind of guy!

Three of us on a motor bike headed to Vijay’s house stopping along the way for extra supplies (Francois was a surprise addition) and a box of sweets as a gift for the family.

Chappati pan – I want one!

Tina was delightful. She and Vijay have two daughters and along with brothers, parents etc there are 13 people living in the house. We get started and the door is closed ostensibly to keep the other kids out (hold this thought too), her kids are in the room with us kind of helping, in a kid way.

Tina spoke just enough English to know how to joke and take a joke that the 3 hours were so much fun and laughter they whipped by. She told us the ‘secret’ of Indian cooking and I am going to share it with you. It isn’t hard: 7 spices.

Note the spice tin with the 7 spices? Every kitchen has this. Starting from the middle, then clockwise from top left: cumin seeds, salt, garam masala, turmeric, coriander powder, chilli powder, anise seeds. Then outside the spice tin: ginger paste, garlic paste, onion paste, dessicated coconut, kasturi methi, something else 🙁 , lemon salt and in the big container, chick pea flour.

Bindi masala

Basically almost all Indian food is a combination of the 7 essentials, easy huh? The ’10 dishes’ was a bit of an oversell, one of them being chai, but since I am a convert I don’t really mind. There was also veg pakora, bindi (okra) masala, palak paneer (spinach and cheese), khichdi (veg rice), stuffed paratha, plain paratha, chappati, malai kofta and rice pudding.

Malai kofta with chapatis and plain paratha

Wasn’t it a good thing we came hungry? Because by the end I could hardly move I was so full. Lots of notes were taken and hopefully I can recreate this at home.

Remember that thought I told you to hold, no not the one about the shop, the one about Tina cooking and how playful she was? Vijay came back to pick us up, the 3 hours had stretched to 3 1/2 or so. As soon as he walked in the door Tina was a changed woman. The spark had gone, she hardly said another word to us. Vijay took over and showed us rice pudding.

Francois and I both commented on it (to each other) and think the real reason the door was closed was so she could be herself without prying family eyes. It was remarkable.

Francois getting even more full

It’s now about 2PM and the final stages of the India wide Diwali cleaning frenzy are in full swing. We are both so stuffed we head back to our hotels to sleep it off.

Another Dream Heaven Hotel balcony sunset and I head out into the street for Diwali excitement and to be honest, it is a bit underwhelming. There is only a few fireworks, not a lot of people around. Kailash explains that people are at home doing puja and it will be big later. I take his word for it.

I drop around to the hole in the wall that is the bhang shop and spend R50 on a ball the size of a macadamia nut. It is mixed with lemon juice and flavouring and due to the peer pressure of others wanting the single cup, I throw it down. Another thought for you to hold as you meet the bhang wallah with his product.

This is 100% legal in India

Remember the thought I first asked you to hold (all these thoughts could get confusing, no matter), I wander back to Kailash’s shop and he explains they are waiting for a holy man to do puja and invites me to join them if I would like. Are you kidding? This is a rare opportunity and a real honour (as far as I am concerned) and we convene at the back of his shop when holy man arrives.

Some mansplaining: like I said, I regarded this as a privilege and an honour to attend. It is a rare treat for a tourist I am sure. So when you read my humorous/cynical observations, please keep them in a context of respect for the ceremony. Please.

I was invited to sit on the floor with Kailash and his wife, but I don’t do floor sitting well and sitting on a bench was fine. Unfortunately it meant I was a little out of the inner circle, but given my assumption that this wasn’t going to be very long, no big deal. Hah! India!

I don’t speak Hindi and it seems a lot of negotiating between the holy man and the family was taking place. I would have thought that the protocol was laid down and quite fixed given the ceremony is very old. But I just made all that up and will never know for sure.

Aside: on the bus to Jodhpur I met a young American bloke named Jack who has been here a couple of months and can speak conversational Hindi…I was most impressed. He has given me the key to learning how to read Hindi. Of course I won’t know what it means.

Back to Puja. Please join me for a few minutes of what took place and be thankful I thought to rotate my camera so quickly or your neck would be worse than mine.

Hindu gods must be particularly hard to please, as this ceremony went on for a bum numbing length of time, about an hour. There were numerous rituals involving water, rice, statues, coconuts and other things. A lot of time would be spent constructing a balanced pile of items, a bit of water would be dribbled over it and it would be deconstructed. I do hope one of the millions of gods was pleased.

The bhang had snuck up on me so I was torn between how amazing the ceremony was and how long it kept going. I was deeply aware of how spiritually deep and significantly important it all was. It was good bhang.

And then Kailash’s mobile phone rang in his pocket. Since he was sitting cross legged on the floor it wasn’t easy to get at and the fact that he, his wife and his son were all trying might have made it more difficult. The holy man didn’t miss a beat.

Then a customer came into the shop that son had to deal with. Other interactions kept happening, photos were OK, distractions didn’t matter, people got up and sat down. I realised that while the ceremony was important for business, it wasn’t all that intense at all. While not convinced that appealing to any god helps, I do hope it brings Kailash and his family good fortune in their business. It was an amazing experience and an opportunity that only came out of my “meet the locals” mission during the trip.

By now the streets of Udaipur, in fact the whole of India, is going off in both the “having a good time” sense and the fireworks. In various dispatches I have mentioned the incredible crackers that are known, quite justifiably, as bombs.

Please allow me to introduce you to Rusty Bomb. As you will see, they are a little cube of death, wound with string and glue. They cost R5 each and millions (not kidding) are set off over a few days.

I am not exaggerating when I say that they would blow your hand off, I am not sure the video really conveys how powerful they are. Maybe my reaction gives a hint.

Notice the guy trying to grab it from me? The young guys are really wound up, they are setting them off one after another and you truly need to have your wits about you walking around. More than once I warned a passerby who wasn’t aware of how close they were to one about to explode. Fortunately the bombs give off a bright flare for a few seconds before they go off, I like to imagine this is a warning, but it wouldn’t surprise me if that isn’t the intention at all.

It was some time around when the video was taken that I was truly scared for a moment. It is not unusual for a guy to be lighting a bomb and someone will toss another right behind him – hilarious! I was videoing one being lit and found myself standing with 2 or 3 going off around me – maybe I was the target of a joke – and I shat myself, really!, quickly withdrawing to safety from then on.

By now I was truly getting my R50 worth of altitude adjustment. In retrospect the macadamia nut sized ball might have been substituted with a marble sized ball.

While I have focussed on the fireworks, there is a more gentle side to Diwali and there are undeclared bomb free zones. It is the Festival of Light, one of the biggest festivals and the closest equivalent would be Christmas. In windows and on doorsteps all over are ghee candles twinkling in the night. People are dressed up and parading, handing out sweets and wishing each other Happy Diwali.

Not withstanding the imagined safe zones, the streets were feeling a little dangerous and I was also aware I wasn’t seeing the full effect of the rockets so I retreated to the O’Zen restaurant tower for a meal and the view. I might have been having trouble walking steadily too.

And what a view! I was looking over Udaipur as a non stop volley of crackers and rockets erupted and seemingly kept going. Another couple was on the tower with me and at one point the guy commanded MORE! to the world and the world responded. Bigger rockets, more of them, everywhere.

Imagine every fireworks display you have ever seen, add them together, multiply it by 1,000 and you get the idea. Remember that this isn’t Udaipur City Council (if there is such a thing) putting on a display. We are talking about crowd sourced amazingness from people who have visited the fireworks market. I tried to video the night and it was so pathetic I am not even going to show you.

Instead, because putting on your Diwali finest is part of the featival, here is a fashion sampler from Sunday night and Monday.

These guys told me they are with the chamber of commerce.

The cows are dressed up as well

I hope you get a bit of an idea of Diwali. I have now ticked off 2 of the 3 major Indian festivals (Diwali and Ganesh Chaturthi), maybe next year Navratri. 😛

This was a single day in my travelling life. No wonder as I pass the half way mark it feels like I have been here for months.

Enjoy a few more photos from Udaipur before we move on to Jodhpur. Today I am going back to the local baoli, 10 minutes walk from the hotel.

Not a great photos, but these girls playing a card game in the middle of the crazy market (above) was captivating.

Not a great photo, but these girls playing a card game in the middle of the crazy market (above) was captivating.

I needed a notebook for the cooking class, spoiled for choice in this shop

Udaipur, like Europe in India

Posted on October 29, 2016 by Steve

Location: Udaipur

Hotel: Dream Heaven

As well as sharing my trip, I hope that anyone planning to visit India is learning some things. Perhaps the most valuable trait you can have is agility. Not in the physical sense, I would fail miserably. I am talking about being agile and resilient around your expectations and actual experiences.

If you come to India and get flustered when something doesn’t go according to plan you are doomed to a tortuous trip that will be anything but a holiday.

The hotel manager in Pushkar assured me that a bus directly to Udaipur leaves from the bus station at 0900. Great news, I plan to be on it and in Udaipur in about 5 hours. Luckily later in the afternoon I double checked it is the bus stop (not really a bus station) where I arrived. Of course it isn’t – thanks for telling me up front – and I am shown a map of where to go.

You have already figured that there is no direct bus from Pushkar haven’t you? But no drama, I know that there will be one from the bus station in Ajmer where the local bus arrives. It was easy to find the right ticket seller in Ajmer and I am heartened by the fact that my R280 or so ticket clearly states Express. It will be a direct run 260km down the highway, none of this dipping into every town along the way.

I’m telegraphing the story aren’t I because you have also figured that there may be a different definition of Express in India. This bus stopped at just about every town and took 8 bloody hours to travel that 260km. Sigh.

The scene at one town’s bus station. Can a Hindi speaker explain what this was about?

But, an adventure is what you make it. It was hot and dusty and noisy with a window open and horns blaring. Sometime the bus was packed then for a while it would be relatively empty. Then it would fill up again for another stretch. My offers of Singara to my neighbours weren’t being accepted so not much talking happening, but plenty of munching by me.

I was thoroughly enjoying watching the world go past and started to wonder why. So I started playing a game of rather than just taking it in, of naming what was interesting that I saw. It ranged from the banal I wonder where that road leads to the visually captivating look at the size of the bundles of dried grass (or whatever it was) those people are carrying on their heads to the astonishing how on earth does a stone vendor compete?

Turn the sound down, it is just wind noise.

This is an area about 50km north of Udaipur. Kilometre after kilometre of the highway between Rajsamand and Nathdwara are lined on both sides with stone vendors selling the same product: marble and granite. How they survive with all the competition, like many things in India, is a mystery.

Along the way we stopped for food, how can you not love this piece of unintended art towering over our bus?

By the time we reached Udaipur at about 5PM I was knackered. A bit of research showed the managers recommendation of the Dream Heaven hotel was one thing he had gotten right.

In all the hotels I have been to, this is the first where reception is on the roof, 5 or 6 flights of stairs up (I can count if any pedants are interested) from street level.

The rooftop restaurant with some cost hangouts and reception in the gloomy distance

The rooftop restaurant with some cosy hangouts and reception in the gloomy distance

I wonder if it is some clever ploy to suck people in because walking out on the roof through the restaurant gives me my first view of Udaipur and it is breathtaking.

It gets better/different as the sun sets

I’m sitting in the corner of the rooftop and have been here about an hour, I’ll fill you in on what has been going on.

A monkey climbed a tree just below eye level, about 10m away, ate some leaves or whatever it eats and seems to have camped there for the night. It is too dark to tell. Fireworks are going off all over and are getting bigger and more frequent. Over the water at a temple a drumming machine (see video from last year) is going off, people are floating candles on the lake. A building in the distance has a couple of search lights swinging around the sky – the haze makes them clearly visible in the night sky. Call to prayer has just started in a couple mosques.

In case I had forgotten (I haven’t) I am reminded of why I came back to India.

I am starting to think about eating, but not here, much more fun to go for a walk.

And walk I did today, here’s some shots from around town.

These are for the top of temples and are only about R5000. My home is a temple and this would look awesome, but too big to carry.

Diwali preparations

What a great face. He proudly showed me photos someone else had taken and given him. I couldn’t manage to get one printed today, will try again tomorrow.

I do love how three versions of the same image can feel so different.

Image manipulation is so hard on a tablet 🙁 The bottom one is a cropped screenshot, hence the date. It isn’t in the image.

Although we don’t do much, I will never grumble about ironing as a chore again.

Outside many shops and no doubt in most homes are these terracotta water holders. On a hot day the evaporation cools the water remarkably. They are for sale everywhere for about R60 apparently.

Loved this tall long alleyway

Puppeteer friends, you would have had an orgasm in this shop. It was so colourful with hundreds and hundreds of different sizes characters hanging one on top of the other in various rooms.

And before monkey arrived there were birds. The parrot looks a bit like a Port Lincoln Parrot. The other? Without some research, which I will leave to you, no idea.

I have also found great samosas, a shop keeper to chat with, the local bhang shop (if I dare, again) and also the local bang shop.

The lethal crackers, less than 2cm long and 1cm in diameter are called bullet bombs. I had seen and heard someone letting them off and asked for a personal demo. HOLY SHIT! is all I can say.

This is day one of five in Udaipur. I hope I haven’t peaked too early.

Finally, the plan kicks in

Posted on October 26, 2016 by Steve

Location: Pushkar

Hotel: Paramount Palace – not a palace at all, but has some of the best views over Pushkar, is on a quiet lane 3 minutes walk from the market and is R400 per night

Reminder: $AUD1 = R50

Like last trip, my plan was to not really have much of a plan. The loose idea was Rajasthan for most of the time and a handful of places, each for a while. It might be a bit naive, but I was hoping to embed myself in a community, even if briefly, and get to know some people and be known.

A not too bad bus trip from Jaipur to Ajmer made more enjoyable by being seated next to Francois, a guy from Quebec. Hmmm, as I type this I realise how easy it is to shove the less pleasant parts of an event into the didn’t actually happen corner of my memory.

For a start although the directions to the bus stop were good, on arrival Jai Ambay Travelling Agent wasn’t to be found and nearby businesses seemed to have no idea. Eventually one guy I asked pointed vaguely down to where I had been and said “bus”. Stupid me, how could I have missed that this was the Jai Ambay bus.

There was no one near the bus, which was supposed to leave at 11:30 and at about 11:20 I asked a guy if he was going to Ajmer. This got the attention of a bloke sitting a ways off, he just happened to be the driver 😛 and this wasn’t the Ajmer bus anyway. Oh, Great!

It turns out that Jai Ambay’s office was right there, hiding in plain sight – assuming you regard a hole in the wall set well back from the street as plain sight.

So the bus does leave in 5 minutes, only not from here. I am hastily led about 500m through traffic, over a busy road, and past other buses to the Ajmer bus which is about to leave. This is where I meet Francois.

Nobody mentioned to either of us that the bus didn’t actually go in to Ajmer, it went past. Luckily the conductor was on the ball and let us know to get off. Since I had done the Ajmer to Pushkar bus last time and knew it was only about R20, the R1,000 asked by an auto driver was not even considered. R200 to the bus station between me and Francois seemed over priced but was about our only option. In fact it was a pretty long way and the 200 ended up seeming quite reasonable, though likely still double what a local would pay.

The Pushkar bus, which only cost R15 turned out to be a hoot. It is only about 45 minutes or so over a hill on a very winding road. We were right down the back amongst a group of about 20 young guys who spoke enough English that we could communicate. I pulled out balloon animals and had them laughing at the guy who couldn’t blow one up, then impressed them when I did.

What does one make for a bunch of 20 something blokes having fun? A dick hat of course. The people down the front must have been wondering what the hell was going on down the back.

Jumping back to Jaipur, my main mission on this trip apart from having fun was to buy some carpets. I had looked at quite a few and wanted to be able to say mission accomplished and get it out of the way.

Sam from Afghanistan took me to a factory where he was honest about receiving 2% commission. I don’t begrudge that for anyone earning about R600 a day.

I spent about 2 hours looking, choosing, haggling, working out details and settled on 6 rugs I likely paid way too much for, but they are going to look great in the house.

Thanks for the collage Google photos

Needless to say, the photos don’t do the colours justice at all. the one on the right in the middle is actually a lovely green that changes depending on which end you look at it. The biggest carpet (top right) wasn’t quite the right size so they are going to make one specially. It will take 3 months so if you were planning to visit especially to run your toes through them, hold off.

Someone introduced me to these things, the best I can find out is they are called water plants – I just was told the Hindu name, but couldn’t get it spelled, sounded like tingara.. They grow under water and are in season right now, R10 for a bag. To eat them you peel the thin skin and inside is a nut sort of thing that is not unlike a water chestnut. Hmmm…maybe that’s what they are, not convinced though.

They are really good and I buy a bag every day eating them as I wander around. Yesterday I threw the skin of one in a gutter in the market thinking a cow would eat it and someone shouted at me to not throw it in the street.

This deserves some background: there is no such thing as a public rubbish bin in India. Closest is that there will always be a bin at a food stall. Add to that, people openly and freely toss their rubbish from cars and buses or where they are standing, no matter what they are getting rid of. While I would never throw plastic on the ground, I don’t have a major problem with organic matter like fruit skin.

But I had been rebuked and I was interested. The guy, who is the owner of a shop, explained that some merchants are trying to keep the market clean and he is working hard to do that around his shop. I apologised, promised to not do it again and we had a long chat about rubbish and all sorts of things.

Now we are friends. I walked past a few times later in the day and always said hello and had a brief chat. This morning he spotted me before I realised I was at his shop – they all look very similar – and called out to me. We sat for an hour talking, drinking chai and just hanging out. This is exactly what I was hoping for.

It isn’t really that hard to create these relationships. As I walk with my water plants I freely offer one to someone who engages in some way. I had met eyes with a holy man seated by the road as I walked past him. I turned back and offered the bag of fruit? nuts? and there he was eating his own. We both laughed and I am sure next time I see him we will say namaste again.

There are a couple of falafel stalls next to each other (they are both really good) and I was talking to the guy behind the cooker in one. He pointed to my water plants and said one for me? but of course. Quick as a flash and without really even thinking about it I pointed to a falafel ball and said one for me? he looked surprised but could hardly say no and his friends roared with laughter, I think at him not expecting it.

They have a sign Oh my god. WOW! about the falafels so we shouted that a few times as I ate it, me maybe going a bit over the top :o), but it must have been OK because they offered me another falafel later in the day. Another group of “friends”.

For Bunty

In some ways I am a typical bloke…not many I don’t think…but I am not big on shopping, especially for clothes. So I was quite intrigued by the fact that I was interested in some shoes that are on sale in a number of stalls.

These are no ordinary shoes, check out the ones on the bottom row to the left of the…umm…delightful orange sandals. Ajeet was wearing something like these and I thought at the time they are quirky enough that I wanted a pair.

I did a lot of research on this. Went to pretty much every shoe stall in the market, trying to keep track of which was my favourite shoes and how much they were. Sometimes the stars align and it happened that my favourite pair also turned out to be the cheapest and about the best made. It is possible they are camel leather.

I could describe them, but I think it best I let my specially selected male super model show them off – he looks after the roof top restaurant at the hotel – I couldn’t do any better.

He’s not wearing them in this shot

The focus of Pushkar – beyond the markets – is an important temple and the lake surrounded by ghats. Read about it last year. Every evening there are ceremonies in several spots on the ghats. Prior to that last night was a rooftop drumming session. I was invited to join in and would have loved to, but I am uncomfortable sitting on the ground.

Hinduism is quite fascinating. While we Westerners regard it as a religion, it is clearly more than that. I’ve had a few conversations with people and to them Hinduism isn’t something they believe in, it just is. It is completely pervasive of Indian culture and society in a way that is hard to understand. I have mentioned the number of shrines, on every corner, in fields, by the road, in shops, on mountains, everywhere. It is not unusual to see people make some sort of devotional hand motion as they drive past a specific temple.

And then there is the cows. There’s a lot of them in Pushkar. To the Hindu, the cow represents all other creatures. Hindus believe that all living creatures are sacred—mammals, fishes, birds. The cow is more, a symbol of the Earth.

I was sitting on a Ghat after the drumming, watching the evening ceremony when I get a sloppy nudge from behind. This beautiful thing was standing over me and unlike most cows (Gai, in Hindi) it seemed to like having is ears scratched. Yes I know it is a bull, but it is still a cow to me.

But it is a sacred/hate relationship between humans and bovines. Cows somehow know they are special and don’t mind taking advantage of it. They stop traffic, lay where they want, shit everywhere, try to get away with eating from vendors if no one is paying attention. So they are slapped, yelled at, hit with sticks, have their tails twisted, all to move them away or along. I should add that the hitting etc isn’t hard, just to get them going. I’ve done it a few times myself.

Tonight as I was eating another great meal, quite late, a man came and moved about half a dozen cows (does that count as a herd?) that were lying in a corner. They looked out of the way to me, but he got them up and moved them down the street.

Five minutes later the same cows were being driven back the way they had come by another man. I am not sure if this goes on all night, back and forth, or the cows get the idea and go up a side street.

It isn’t a fuzzy photo, that’s exactly how the mirror looks.

I can get a bit lazy shaving and after a week it starts to get annoying. Barber must have read my mind – or seen my face – and for R100 I was shaved three times and had my eyebrows massaged.

I look so good, I might put on my new shoes.

I did some things…

Posted on October 23, 2016 by Steve

Location: Leaving Jaipur on an overnight trip to a village that apparently has 350 stepwells!

It is worth mentioning that the other day, when I realised the bus into Jaipur was only a couple of blocks from the hotel I was heading for – I track where we are on Google maps – I went to jump off as we stopped at some traffic lights. The driver said “No get off in street”. I wish I knew enough Hindi to respond with “Are you the same guy who drove on the wrong side of a divided highway, into oncoming traffic, to get to the restaurant for our 30 minute break?”. But I don’t.

To continue the “sleeping anywhere” theme.

I don’t get how anyone could get any sleep on the seat of a cycle rickshaw, on a busy road, in the sun. But I suppose if you work as hard as these guys do…

Started the day with a sweet lassi at a shop I remember from last time here. I don’t know what they do differently to all the other lassi wallahs, but theirs are great. I noted last time and it is worth repeating as it takes some getting used to, that with street vendors you eat or drink and when you are done, then you pay.

I like this because it means I hang around rather than eat or drink and walk. And when you hang around, invariably someone will talk to you. In this case it is the guy who owns the restaurant next door. His English is pretty good and we banter for a while and mentions Australians are very tall, I explain that I am proof that isn’t true. Plenty of laughs. I tell him I may come back for a meal…I never promise as I never know what will come up.

Crossing the road to walk in the shade the regular stream of auto drivers are hopeful of taking me somewhere, anywhere. One young guy is quite friendly and wants to practice his English, Mohammed Sam from Afghanistan – sounds like the title of a kid’s book. When he finds out I am from Australia, can you guess the first thing he says? “Australians are very tall”. It makes me wonder if there is some sort of conspiracy afoot.

We agree to meet in the evening for a beer and we end up at a rooftop hotel chatting and enjoying the view and fireworks going off all over. And then his friend showed up…I think he was really drunk, maybe he was a bit crazy too. But he was a pain and not entirely coherent.

You know that moment when you have started to trust someone and enjoy them and suddenly a thought enters your mind “I wonder if these guys are setting me up?” and you can’t unthink that thought. It was time to bail and Mohammed was actually apologetic for his friend. [Update a couple of days later] Stupid me, I gave him my whatsapp info…he is really keen to take me to a carpet factory…really keen. I can always block him I suppose.

I have am idea for a dance beat and am collecting photos of the back of trucks for the video. We shall see if it !materialises at all.

I have an idea for a dance beat and am collecting photos of the back of trucks for the video. We shall see if it materialises at all.

I love wandering the streets of whatever city I am in, turning down random lanes and heading wherever looks or sounds interesting. I was in the old part of Jaipur known as the pink city. Down a few alleys heading more or less in the direction of a bazaar.

I glanced in a door and couldn’t believe my eyes.

Definitely not a Jewish god

These guys are 2m in length…yeah, yeah, head to toe. Made of marble, and according to the guy who came out they make them right there, though the place didn’t look dusty enough…but who knows. There was a couple of guys hand finishing some cast brass temple gods. Another tortuous manual job, sitting on the floor, steadying the piece with their toes, filing and sanding by hand. But it was the statues in the photo that pricked my attention.

Jumping all over the place chronologically, after the beer I wandered directly over the road to the restaurant I mentioned earlier. I was indeed the honoured guest, actually I was the only guest in a 50 seat room. This being my about my 60th day in India (in total) I have eaten a lot of Indian food. But the vegetarian jalfrezi they served me was possibly the best Indian meal in my life. I was glad I couldn’t eat it all so there was some for breakfast.

I’m going back there tonight and am faced with a quandary. Do I have the same again, it was so good, or do assume all their meals are this good and try something different…only to discover the jalfrezi is their specialty. Life is so tough. (In the end I was too tired and ate in – still excellent)

This little girl was begging from cars stopped at traffic lights. My instinct is to give something to kids who are doing something more than just asking for money. They might be selling balloons or picking up plastic rubbish for recycling or anything, I will give them R10 and not take the balloon (or the plastic).

It’s easy to see why she was interesting. I gave her R10 not planning to take a photo, then changed my mind. When I asked her to come a little closer, out of the shade, what seemed like an automatic response was to put her hand out for money again 🙁 Then I showed her the photo and the look of surprise was great! I don’t think she had any idea of the result of what was plastered on her face.

I am sure I have left out some stuff, this was 2 days ago now. If you have read this far you get to hear the amazeballs story…of the trip most likely, and I have only been gone 1 week out of 5.

A month or 3 ago some how the Chand Baori came into my consciousness and despite baolis being so ‘last trip’ they are still fascinating. I mentioned to Ajeet, the hotel owner, that I wanted to go, asking how to get there and he suggested a different trip, overnight, inclusive of everything – food, accommodation, snacks, drinks, everything – for R4,000 ($80).

A tour? I never do tours but it sounded like an idea and we agreed to leave on Thursday. He has included an Italian and a French woman and the four of us head off…I have ~~pretty much~~ no idea where we are going.

I already know one of the things I am looking forward to and that is being able to say “stop here”. In the photo above we have just been given some peanuts by the people harvesting them.

The drive out of Jaipur is an experience in itself dealing with Indian traffic. Pure insanity, but somehow it all works with no aggression. The trip to Toda Rai Singh where there is a bunch of baoli takes a couple of hours. One baoli is in very good condition and reasonably popular. Because we have no real itinerary, we hang there for at least an hour sitting, talking, exploring.

This is a different baoli…

Speaking of popular, i feel for my poor female companions. They constantly attract a following of men tagging along at a distance they might feel doesn’t make their tagging along obvious but only helps to accentuate it. Fuck creepy Clowns, this is creepy men. Yeah they are only a little creepy, but I can see how and why it gives the girls the shits. We even played a little game drawing them from one place to another and back again.

This is that baoli ;o)

They mostly don’t hang this close, this was a photo op, but any opportunity to come close to talk to Ajeet is taken. It is funny in a sad way.

We go from here to several other not as spectacular but still interesting baoli in Toda Rai Singh. There’s also a quite amazing very old temple that was destroyed by one attacking horde or another. They have taken pieces of the wreckage and built a makeshift structure around the idol. Why didn’t I take any photos here?

And then to a quiet quiet peaceful temple complex around a lake. This is the quintessential there is no way photos can do this place justice place. In photos the pinks aren’t pink enough, they can’t convey the stillness and peace, something so hard to find in India. We sit for another hour soaking the place up. Are you getting a sense of the pace of this trip?

By now it is about 4PM and we climb up a pretty rough track to another abandoned temple. But they aren’t really abandoned. The structure is often really dilapidated, but there is always some one maintaining the inner sanctum, so to speak. This will probably be in bad shape too, but more from the many many years of love and devotion to whatever god is represented.

To set the scene, it is now late afternoon, the light is beautiful? See the series of arches stretching to the right? On top is a pathway that leads out like a huge diving board giving 300 degree views of the city, the other 60 degrees is the temple and the hill.

Spectacular? An understatement. We sit here watching the sun disappear into the haze before it finally sets, out of sight. But don’t let me spoil the moment, it is beautiful and we are having the time of our lives. Laughing, exploring, hanging out, interacting as best we can with the locals. This is an untour of the highest order.

Who thought to put an LED torch in the back of phones? Thanks. But for that the trip back down in the dark would have led to a claim on my travel insurance for death or permanent injury.

I want to learn how to tie a turban like this. It was standard dress in this village.

Then we head off for the 2 hours drive to Bundi for the night stopping at a roadside restaurant for another great meal, ending up at Visham Hotel with a great host family and the biggest rooms I have seen in India.

Will I break the next day into another post? Nah, too much to tell.

Breakfast in the rooftop restaurant of Visham includes monkeys scooting past and over the rooftops, views of the fort, cow watching and 2 fried eggs on toast done to perfection…you don’t know tricky it is to get any Western food that doesn’t have a unique Indian touch. I am reminded of French Toast in Bodh Gaya which was essentially a piece of toast wrapped in a pancake.

This man has a little store that sells among other things paan, which is in all those hanging packets. Paan is made from betel nut leaves and can probably best be described as the Indian version of Red Bull. I didn’t realise this, I thought it was more about the taste than anything…naive idiot westerner.

At some point during the previous day Ajeet bought some paan and after the initial oral shock of bitterness and something I can’t even name, it became quite a pleasant taste, and there is a gentle buzz. Apparently it can be addictive, not for me though I am happy I tried it once – I tried it last trip too and couldn’t hold it in my mouth for more than a few seconds.

Are you getting the idea of how this untour is going?

We spend the morning touring the fort, including a fantastic tour of the really old paintings in the women’s quarters, with the “caretaker” taking lots of time and giving us wonderfully detailed information about the stories. It was nice to see that this is all being protected behind lock and key and he was mindful we didn’t touch anything, I hope he is passing on his extensive knowledge.

Off we head to the next mysterious location. Along the way, as well as stopping for chai, snacks and photos, we stop at what I think would be called a bhang shop. Essentially it is a doorway with a bit of space the size of your toilet room. Bloke has various sizes balls of pulverised cannabis leaves for sale. And it seems that is all he sells, another “how on earth does he make a living” moment. Note that this is perfectly legal and government regulated (but how much?) in India.

Ajeet purchases a R60 serving, about the size of a golf ball. For R10 the portion is about the size of a grape. It is mixed with some buttermilk and flavouring and looks and smells like the average Australian green smoothie – scrumptious. Being about 11 in the morning I decline my own serve but I have a taste, nothing special but quite salty from the flavouring sachet. Pauline finds it too salty to drink her small glass, about 1/5 the size of a full serve so I gallantly offer to finish it off.

We turn off along a back road worse than most I have seen, deeper we go along an even worse (if that is possible) dirt road until we end up at a barren looking spot with a stream running through it. I am feeling pretty good by now.

This man is a local villager, just finished his washing. You can see the sort of landscape

We walk over to the edge, intrigued by a lush valley we can see below. And there – we are speechless – is a spectacular waterfall, the last thing I expected to see.

We have brought some flowers to give to the holy man at the Bhimlat Mahadev Temple we must pass through as we wend our way to the bottom of the valley. Had this been smooth going it would have been much easier now that the taste was sneaking up on me.

This place was so unexpectedly beautiful it was hard to take in. On one side the roaring waterfall, on another, the rocky, rubbish strewn path back out, on another side a tranquil lush meandering stream, a complete contrast to the waterfall that was its source.

We had the place to ourselves, apart from the monkeys who apparently liked to pinch bags and things. We put all our stuff into one bag and then put in on the ground next to a rock and it blended right into all the rubbish (you probably think I am kidding).

The water was beautiful to swim in despite the rocks being treacherously slippery and I am still in awe, mostly because it is so out of character compared with the surrounding landscape. By now I am extremely thankful that I didn’t go for the R60 serving if my state of almost complete incapacity was from a small glass.

This is our almost last stop, there is still a meal to be had on the way home and by the time we get back it is about 7PM, we’ve been gone a day and a half, great value. I am still cruising.

But more than just good value for Rupees, it is one of those trips of a lifetime…within a trip of a lifetime. Some things I will never forget and this is one of them. If you are coming to Jaipur, find Hathroi Tours on Facebook. You really should do one of the 9 trips on which Ajeet can take you.

Rishikesh seemed like a good idea, but I would have to go through Delhi. So instead I leave tomorrow for Pushkar for a few days then to Udaipur for Diwali on Sunday.

I will tempt fate by saying that I haven’t gotten sick at all. Last time there was an initial WTF? from my guts, his trip it is like “oh, this again”.

And I bought some carpets.

Namaste

Posted on November 3, 2015 by Steve

That’s all folks. The actual adventure is over but the memories will linger…which is why we do such things.

There are a lot of beliefs and myths and stuff about India that you hear, this is my annotated list of things I wish I had known before I went.

India is amazing – it is everything you do and don’t expect and more. India is an assault on all your senses. It is colourful, friendly, frustrating, noisy, crowded, spectacular, religious, smelly, funny, not punctual (mostly – but who cares) and absolutely fantastic.
Pack light – if I ever go again my entire wardrobe would be 1 pair long pants, 1 pair shorts, 2 cotton shirts, 1 pair sandals/thongs. That’s it. You do not need shoes, I carried a pair for 7 weeks that I only wore on the plane over. If you go north in the winter you might need a jacket. Obviously this doesn’t count for women, you will still need your entire wardrobe.
Water is not such a hassle – I didn’t intentionally drink tap water but I am sure I ingested it many times in drinks, food and the like. I likely brushed my teeth in tap water out of habit. Don’t freak out about it especially after you have been there a while and gotten accustomed to the flora. Drinking water is available everywhere, absolutely everywhere, for Rs20 (40c) for a 1 litre bottle

Not everyone speaks English – this was a bit of a surprise as I had assumed they did, even if not well. Also, not everyone speaks Hindi, especially in Tamil Naidu. I learned a handful of Hindi words and could count and then couldn’t use any of it the last week in the South. Speak in simple sentences even to English speakers. Don’t say “Can you tell me the way to the railway station please” say “Which way railway station?”. More often than not people will go out of their way to help you. Those that don’t will simply point in the general direction or give you a head waggle.
Head Waggle – yes it is endemic, here is what it means:
See that little golden spot where all the circles intersect? THAT is the meaning of the head waggle…I think
Money is easy – get yourself a Citibank debit card. No fees, they do a straight 3% loading on currency conversion, it can be used in ATMs everywhere to get local currency (watch for those that charge a transaction fee). The only problem was some online booking won’t accept a foreign debit card, shop elsewhere, there is always an alternative to buy exactly the same thing.
Trains are the best way to travel – install the Cleartrip app, easily the best way to book trains. If you are travelling overnight get yourself a 2AC seat this is 2nd class Air Conditioned. You get a bed and linen including a small towel. If you are not that fussy get a sleeper class, reserved bed but that’s all you get. Avoid general seating at all costs. Don’t freak out if a train is full a couple of days before and you are wait listed with up to 10 in front of you. In the whole time I was only not confirmed once, that was with The Sheila (she was confirmed) and we both travelled anyway. For trips to the airport and the like Uber and a local version, Ola, also work well. If you get an overnight bus, be sure to get a sleeper, they are pretty good.
Buy a local SIM – cheap as and even if just for using Google maps it is well worth it, especially since they don’t make station announcements on trains so you can check where you are. You will also get SMS notification about train bookings and the status of your ticket. I used Airtel, would likely choose another company next time, it was pretty slow internet.
You will get sick – maybe not very sick, I didn’t. But I definitely (and still) had stomach upsets that were more an inconvenience because you need to be aware of the nearest convenience. I took an arsenal of antibiotics for every ailment you could think of. Probably better to be prepared than need to go looking for it when you are feeling awful, but I do feel it was overkill. You can buy any drug over the counter at Medical Stores, even down to asking for how many tablets you want and they will be cut off the strip.
Eat street food – obviously not everything you see, but if it looks good, there are lots of people eating i.e. it is fresh and you are hungry, go for it. Street samosas are the best, don’t be surprised to see someone in front of you feeling them to make sure they are hot. I really enjoyed fresh sugar cane juice too, very refreshing and a bit of an energy boost. When you buy street food it is expected that you stand and eat and drink it before you pay for it. Also, if you need more sauce on your samosa, just ask.
Hotels are mostly good – this is a no brainer, you generally get what you pay for. Anything over about Rs700 will be reasonable, feel free to check the room first, don’t forget to feel the mattress, they can be very hard, a light pad over a board. Also check the hot water, don’t take their word for it that there is hot water – not that it matters really, the weather was so hot most of the time a cool shower was welcome. Towels are rare, take your own travel towel, one of those light ones that dries quickly. Every room has a ceiling fan that you will welcome for the air movement and the speed with which your washed clothes dry. The included Wifi will nearly always be dodgy. Sometimes a hotel will include breakfast which will sometimes be really good and other times just a piece of white toast with jam.
Have a theme – this time my theme was finding stepwells. It didn’t dominate my trip or distract from anything else, but it was fun to track them down and they are so cool. Your theme might be bird watching or temple visiting or seeing concerts. No matter what, it gives you some detective work to do in each location and you never know what it all leads to. This is where the adventure lies.
Go with the toilet flow – I think that washing rather than wiping is cleaner and embraced it. Finding toilet paper in a hotel is rare, anywhere else it is almost unheard of. Get used to it, likely 6 billion people in the world do not use TP.
Say yes! – this has been an onging theme of the blog because it was my philosophy for the trip. Saying yes to things I would normally balk at led to some of the most incredible and unique experiences I had. Obviously you need to make a quick decision on whether it isn’t such a good idea, but I don’t think I had more than a couple of times I knocked back an offer. Do be aware of people hustling, almost everyone wants something in return for helping you. But if you are offered a meal or somewhere to stay take it. The guest is god in India, people are honoured to have you in their homes and treat you unbelievably well.
I was invited into a Hindu festival celebration. I said yes, it was fantastic.

That’s it. I have nothing more to say. I hope you have enjoyed my ramblings and maybe are inspired to have an adventure of your own. If you have been lurking and gotten this far without commenting, say “hi” in the comments.

Namaste

Refusing to use ‘Pi’ in blog title

Posted on October 31, 2015 by Steve

We woke up to a miracle of well being on the day we planned to leave for Puducherry from Mahabalipuram. Perhaps it was because we have visited so many temples, maybe because I have patted so many cows, it could be modern medicine, who knows?

Sheila was feeling so back to normal, despite my suggestion we catch another taxi, she was happy to go by local bus.

The super deluxe coach from Mahabalipuram to Puducherry, this means it has decent seats.

The ultra deluxe coach from Mahabalipuram to Puducherry, this means it has decent seats.

Overnight train trips get you to your destination overnight, but you don’t get to see a lot. Daytime bus trips through rural India are another story. Salt harvesting, rice paddies, other unidentified crops, countless shrines and temples and on this trip, a real thrill to see wild flamingoes in a lake we passed.

Flamingo at Kuala Lumpur bird park for illustration purposes only

Lonely Planet had another win with the Park Guest House where every room has a balcony overlooking the Bay of Bengal. This place is run by the Sri Aurobindo ashram and the grounds are full of simple but beautiful pieces of art some of which are going to be replicated at home.

All over the place are posters of Sri Aurobindo and The Mother, a French woman who became his collaborator. There are lots of rules and even a curfew, but it was a great place to stay and see if Puducherry would scratch Sheila’s itch.

Of we set on foot in search of French influence. We didn’t get far before we fell victim to the ice cream shop just down the street at Alliance Francais. This was a good start.

The old map had lots of streets with French names. A newer map, and the streets themselves, had Indian names. The good start was tarnished a bit.

Before long Sheila was so well and in such rapture that she was salivating at all the Frenchiness ranging from buildings to food to faux gendarmes with non-faux firearms.

Puducherry police

There is a French embassy and to ice the cake of expectation, people actually speak French here. Sheila is in heaven and I have to conceded that I was wrong about Puducherry being as French as Nouméa I.e. not at all.

There was a rehearsal for a parade and the military guys were happy to pose, just look at the excitement on their faces

The cherry on top of the croissant was a wonderful meal in an almost French restaurant. My how the appetite has returned.

Delighted at our ‘French’ dinner, this makes me happy and life easier.

There was also a certain amount of wistfulness starting to creep in because our trip is ending . Puducherry is our last stop before heading back to Chennai for our flight to Malaysia. So we were lapping it up.

More Park Guest House art, broken terracotta pots.

More Park Guest House art, pieces from broken terracotta pots.

Of course there were Hindu temples, one particularly spectacular and another with what can only be described as an endearing performing elephant.

Hindu temple Puducherry

Temple ceiling

Place some money at the end of its trunk and it will touch you on the head to “bless” you. This is important enough to people to have them lining up and the elephant receiving enough coins to keep it supplied in croissants.

Elephant blessing

You can take the girl out of the Catholic Church but you can’t totally remove the church from the girl. So we visited some old churches and I scratched my head as Sheila, who had been a bit puzzled by the overt devotion of Hindus, crossed herself entering and leaving. Or maybe the scratching was from the elephant blessing.

Happy face electrical box bathing in rainbow

Happy face Catholic electrical box bathing in rainbow

Who knew that baby Jesus had male-pattern baldness, obviously inherited.

Continuing the series of military male models

I think you get the drift: there never was a Pondicherry zoo, but the French really were there and their influence remains. We had a lovely time and the truth is, there’s not a lot to write about, but plenty of pics of a relaxing couple of days.

Cutting firewood for the restaurant cooker, with an electric saw

Doctor doctor give me the news…

Posted on October 31, 2015 by Steve

Although I am generally writing posts a few days after the event I try to write it as though it is a live blog, hopefully you feel you are right here with us at Suradeep Hospital, Mamallpuram.

Suradeep Hospital, Mamallapuram

But before I get to the gory details let me back up, because the journey is as much fun as the destination, sometimes.

Although she wasn’t up to walking, eating or much else, The Sheila was so looking forward to heading south to Puducherry she worked out an itinerary that included a place I hadn’t heard of, Mamallapuram or Mahabalipuram as it is also known.

Digression: there is a trend to change all the colonial names back to either their original or to an Indian name e.g. Mumbai was Bombay, Chennai was Madras. This can be very confusing when you have two maps of a place and the streets have different names on each map.

We flew into Chennai early afternoon from Kolkata with The Sheila as sick as ever, if not worse. This being her part of the holiday I am saying “yes” to almost everything including “taxi, I am too sick for a bus”. Fair enough, it was Rs1,200 ($25) which is quite expensive by Indian standards but a) it was over an hour b) AC and c) random foreign tourist rate.

Research included finding a hotel in an inherited (and since passed on) Lonely Planet guide book. Our experience has been mixed with LP suggestions. Varanasi hotel was great, this one not so much. Huge room with AC, quite clean, quiet, but no screens on the windows and the bathroom was pretty grotty. This is especially important when you aren’t feeling well already.

You can see what a joyous event an Indian marriage is. This was at the celebration and photo shoot the night before the ceremony We were invited to attend the ceremony the next morning, unfortunately Sheila was too sick.

Sheila spent all that afternoon and evening in bed while I wandered what turned out to be quite a nice place. I’d say it started as a fishing village, but they have adapted to tourism really well. The streets are the cleanest I have seen in India, they hustle the itinerant touts and sellers out of the area and the shop keepers are quite friendly. Though behind their relaxed friendliness lurks the desire to hustle you into their shop.

The difference was that there wasn’t so much pressure to buy, just having a look was acceptable to many of them and I had some great conversations, especially with the owner of the first music shop I have seen. I kind of wanted a tabla, but they are so big to carry.

My uke meets its bigger and watt more complicated cousins

My uke meets its bigger and way more complicated cousins

By now Sheila hadn’t eaten for 3 days and she wasn’t responding to any treatment I found on the internet when searching for “sick in India”. While walking home that night I passed a hospital/clinic and we decided to go there in the morning.

Entrance to the hospital

As the parent of a doctor and a pseudo doctor myself I have an idea about the western standard of medical facilities, Suradeep Hospital didn’t come close, except by name. For once being foreign tourists worked to our advantage and we queue jumped lots of sick locals. A sweet woman doctor was seeing a steady stream of patients as well as handling the money and giving instructions to five or so nurses and assistants.

This photo gives an idea of the sad state of everything, patient included

She wants to do blood tests and rehydrate Sheila. Foreign Tourist advantage: some bloke, likely dying of malaria or worse, is kicked out of a small room and Sheila is put on a Sodium Lactate drip in the back streets of an Indian fishing village.

The beginning of a happy ending

It is almost as bad as you are imagining. No change of sheets on the bed between patients though a pillow is found (no pillowcase) and put under the sheet. They do use antiseptic but no gloves. There is a fan in the windowless room, but power has been erratic all morning. None of the staff speak English. And not a working Clown Doctor in sight.

Ummm…

Leaving her to her fate I am sent on a mission to find a better hotel. Though I don’t want to bore you with details, I will share the criteria so that I can get some of the sympathy you are feeling for Sheila.

Clean
Sea breeze
AC
Soft bed
Screened windows
WiFi
Reasonable price
Quiet
Hot water
Ground floor

This is pretty much mission impossible, but I say “yes” and head out. A couple of hours later, having checked out every hotel in town (10+) I am able to report back that from the list of requirements she can choose any 4 and a hotel would fit the bill. The only happy ending happening this day was that one hotel, Siva Guest House, just around the corner from our original, won the day. Oh how I wish I had noted the names of all the hotels in all my posts…sigh.

As they hook Sheila up to a second bottle, this time Sodium Chloride, I am despatched to move house. This place, though on the 3rd floor, has screens, wonderful breezes and a balcony. The promised WiFi is disappointing. Geeky friends, have you ever heard of a WiFi access point being visible to some devices but not others? I couldn’t figure it out. Didn’t matter, it was slow anyway.

Just before the hospital visit, doesn’t she look great? Nice beach though, cows included.

Just as I finish the final trip from the original hotel with all our luggage and am ready for a shower and a nap my phone rings, possibly the second time in India. Sheila is finished and while I am tempted to try my luck with some humour and say “just walk back to the old hotel, you’ll see me” I don’t tempt fate and instead say “see you in 5 minutes”.

It is too late to cut a long story short, but some tablets were handed over, blood results analysed (minor infection) and we chatted to the doctor who owns the clinic. She hadn’t had a break in over 25 years or so and treats poor people for free. Our bill came to Rs2,600 ($55) and we gave her Rs3,000 to pay for some medicine for someone who couldn’t afford it.

I am going to kill this tale by saying that Sheila ate something that night, first food in 4 days, and by the next morning she was almost back to normal having risen from what she was convinced was her death bed.

I knew she was better, we went shopping!!! We went walking!!! We continued shopping!!! We ate!!!! We went shopping some more!!!

Random photo to fill page: I found the burial site of Australia’s fast broadband network, outsourced of course.

Having bought some cushion covers the next mission was to find a matching textile for the back of the couch and we did. It was Rs2,500 according to the shop keeper. I have mentioned that Sheila is uncomfortable with me haggling. She figures we earn enough to pay full price and I suspect she is also worried about me offending people. But to me, and I think to the shop keepers it is a game that while there is an edge, can be loads of fun.

And so it was with this guy. We spent about half an hour bantering and batting back and forth and bemoaning the fact that our children wouldn’t be able to eat and we laughed and the price was coming down slowly. In fact we really wanted this piece but I knew better than to let on, we were going to leave and go and think about it…but if he gave it to us for our spending limit of Rs1,000 we would buy now.

The Rs1,000 spending limit was something I invented when I got a sniff he might sell for that. Back and forth we went, he even offered us chai, he acknowledged was enjoying the game, I was honoured but knew it was a ploy to weaken me. Fortuitously I had exactly Rs1,000 in my top pocket, I whipped it out, handed it to him and he laughed “better than nothing” and we had a deal. Not bad from a Rs2,500 start. Sheila softened the blow by not haggling for a pair of earrings.

Incredible some masons start with this and in about 6 weeks truth it into...

Incredible stone mason starts with this and in about 6 weeks turns it into…

The final result of the carver’s handiwork. I was truly in awe.

Rather than take a taxi, we head 100km to Puducherry by local bus. Rs60 Vs Rs2,000. This has been a long post, so that tale is still to come.

Under the bodhi tree

Posted on October 28, 2015 by Steve

Many months ago I started reading a book that turned out to effectively be Buddha’s biography. It was pretty dry reading “and then he…and then he…and then he…” none the less I found it really interesting. At about the same time I was forming a plan for this trip and thought “wouldn’t it be cool to visit Bodhgaya, the place where Buddha attained enlightenment?” and here we are.

Unfinished temple, is going to be most spectacular when done.

After many big cities Bodhgaya is quite a bit more relaxed. It is not very big and there are rice paddies about 50m from our hotel. There are, as you might expect lots of Buddhists coming to visit Mahabodhi Temple, the site of the wondrous event and the location of a descendant of the original Bodhi tree under which Buddha was sitting.

Mahbodhi Temple in the location where Buddha attained enlightenment. Likely the most holy place for Buddhists.

Mahabodhi Temple in the location where Buddha attained enlightenment. Likely the most holy place for Buddhists.

Many countries have built monasteries and temples here; Vietnam, Japan, China Bhutan to name a few and while they may not be intentionally trying to outdo each other (are Buddhists competitive?) there are some spectacular buildings, all within walking distance. There are also many, many monks and nuns walking, riding bicycles, motor bikes and autos.

30 metre high Buddha built by the Japanese

The Mahabodhi Temple is a very peaceful place with lots of people praying and meditating. Some walk, some sit, some prostrate themselves. We sat for about an hour just watching people around the tree which seems to be the focus for pilgrims.

Meditating monk passing bodhi tree at Mahbodhi Temple

Meditating monk passing bodhi tree at Mahabodhi Temple. I love this photo. We sat for a long time and this guy was walking slowly around and around the temple, occasionally he would pick up a little train of 3 or 4 followers then they would drop off and he would keep going. We made eye contact a couple of times and he had a lovely gentle smile. I also love that to the left of him is people sitting meditating, to the right of him is people walking, western clothes. For me the photo is a story that I am not sure conveys well if you weren’t there.

There is another focus and that is catching the occasional leaf that flutters to the ground. I had spotted a couple and each time was beaten to them by someone else. It wouldn’t be good form to elbow an elderly nun out of the way over a leaf. Eventually I told a monk I was after one and when he saw one hit the ground he grabbed it and gave it to me. I have a plan for framing it when we get back. Sitting again I saw another come down and this time I was quickest and now had my second leaf, but I had beaten an older monk to it so I gave it to him and the look of excitement on his face was worth it.

Not the same monk ;o)

Neither of us has been 100% well here, Sheila especially so, so on our last day, after she faded badly out in the streets we came back to the hotel where she slept much of the afternoon and I borrowed a bicycle to head into town. Using the road in India at all is quite an interesting exercise, riding a bike when you haven’t been on one for a few years what could possibly go wrong?

In fact nothing went wrong, but unlike me, I did forget the golden rule for getting services of any sort; Negotiate a price first. The seat on the bike was a little high so I stopped at a “bike repair shop” i.e. a spot by the road where someone fixed bikes, and asked the guy to lower the seat about 2cm. At home a 3 minute job like this, mechanic would just say “don’t worry about any money” but this is India so I reckon it would be a Rs5 or Rs10 job. Like I said, I didn’t fix a price up front and the guy wanted Rs50! OK, this is only $1 but that’s beside the point, I had been well and truly cheated and despite him not speaking English, he got my message very clearly and one of the blokes standing around who could speak a little English also passed on my displeasure. I ought to add that the blokes standing around had wry smiles on their faces that I read as “you got done mate, it wasn’t fair, but what did you expect?”. But the bike was more comfortable.

[EDIT] Days later again finally some decent wifi. Jump to photos to fill out the story.

Sheila under the bodhi tree

The main Buddah idol inside the Mahabodhi temple

I was on my bike and noticed all the banners and bunting hiding the street seller stalls. Kept riding, somehow I was unwittingly through barricades and right alongside the Governor of Bihar’s car. No one panicked but they did move me back pretty quick ;o). Then they removed the decorations and the non-existent stalls that the Governor surely knew about anyway magically reappeared.

Cow dung pats used for cooking drying on a wall. This is a really common sight. I am sure the cooking fires are a major contributor to the poor quality of Indian air.

This is a really common sight, cow dung pats used for cooking drying on a wall. I am sure the cooking fires are a major contributor to the poor quality of Indian air.

Tergar Monastry – there a loads of monastries in bodhgaya

Dragon staircase at the unfinished temple above.

Delicious Delhi

Posted on October 17, 2015 by Steve

The first four and a half weeks of my trip all had one purpose. To be in Delhi to meet The Sheila when she arrived from the US. We then get to spend a couple of weeks travelling together before heading home,

My timing had been perfect, I managed to arrive in Delhi on the 12th, determined that the hotel was of adequate standard for entry into India and re-entry into relationship, I even booked a car and driver to get to and from the airport. The incredibleness of Google technology* – did you know you can just type a flight number into search and it will give you the arrival time? – informed me that the plane was 30 minutes early and I arrived at the airport and was in position at the arrivals barrier just after the plane landed . *Conditions apply, as you will see^.

Why is it that India (and other places) try to make life so hard for people. Planes full of passengers are arriving and everyone needs to go through customs and immigration and then out to the world, usually with someone waiting to meet them. Instead of a single exit door where it is impossible to miss the arrivee, adding to the excitement of welcoming your loved one there is the tension of three exit doors and a desperate hope that you are standing at the right one. After watching for a few minutes I notice that 80% of people come out of one door so I find myself a spot and wait. And wait. And wait. After an hour of waiting I am not the slightest bit anxious (kidding), after 90 minutes I ask someone who comes out how long it takes to get through and he said about 30 minutes. I keep reminding myself “India time” but am going through scenarios of what to do next.

Of course, there is more than one happy ending that night and eventually, having had to deal with a malfunctioning fingerprint scanner, The Sheila emerged to something rare in India, a public display of affection. The ride home wasn’t too crazy (it was 2300hrs), the hotel was deemed perfect. Off to a great start.

Next day it was time to be tourists, in a different way for me a) I am not alone any more and b) where I am happy to rough it and be adventurous, The Sheila is likely to not be quite the same. I have a day planned, show her the baoli I have discovered and a temple I have heard about. I have used Google maps to work out the buses to catch, what can possibly go wrong^~? There is sufficient awe at architecture, fear at getting on and off buses that don’t quite come to a full stop and admonishment for walking along the road like the rest of the population, but fun is being had.

Off to the Gurdwara Rakab Ganj Sahib Sikh shrine (not quite the right word) I heard about from a couple of Americans the previous day. I have the bus stop name, we are approaching and the vagueness of whether the conductor and people meant “this stop” or “next stop” meant we miss the stop. Meh, not far to walk back. Serendipity time #1 for The Sheila.

We get off the bus and there is a line of people being handed a plate of food. I suggest we get some, “no it is for poor people” Sheila has already figured out. Some people notice our reluctance and invite us to have some food. A plate of curry and a couple of too hot to hold puris and we are ushered to the only two chairs (they kick a couple of guys off) and while I am kind of used to Honoured Guest status, Sheila gets initiated.

Honoured guest after less than 24hrs.

Best I could figure out was this was something to do with a current festival Navratri and the food was not for the poor, it was for everyone and it was really tasty. Again there is a request for a posing for photos, lots of laughter and we walk off shaking our heads in disbelief at our good fortune missing our bus stop.

HOT! puris, straight from oil to hand.

The yummy curry and a bloke who doesn’t mind being in a photo.

There are lots of temples and shrines in India. I mean LOTS. Just about every block will have a temple of some sort and there are smaller shrines all over the place. Approaching we can hear chanting and we take off our shoes a long way from the doors because no one else is wearing shoes. Up the stairs, I cover my head with provided ‘bandana’ and into a not huge space where the floor is covered by a soft carpet. No words are adequate and like most of these places, the photos don’t do justice. A steady stream of pilgrims come in and kneels before the shrine (you read the links above, right?) to do devotion. Meanwhile there is this small group of musicians alternating with a preacher every five minutes. We sat for quite a while, I found the place mesmerising, trying to work out the subtleties of the rituals (I didn’t), people watching and observing the protocols of the “guards”, bit they weren’t really guarding, it appeared more ceremonial.

Dammit, if someone can figure an easy way to upload videos I will add it here…grrr…

On the way out of the grounds there was quite a bit of coming and going from a hall. We asked what was going on, a wedding! If you ask to go in and look is it technically gate-crashing? We were invited to have our photo taken with the bride and groom and it seemed so bizarre we said no. I now regret breaking my “say yes” rule.

She looked soooo excited by what can only be described as an ordeal, a photo shoot with hundreds of people.

Again I am a few days behind and am considering declaring blog bankruptcy i.e. just skip a few days to catch up. But so much happens. I will instead use more photos than words.

Don’t know the story, they were outside the temple. Maybe associated with the wedding…to remain a mystery

^ We had spent the day hopping around on buses and crossed town, heading back a bus that Google maps and the sign at the bus stop said existed didn’t. Beware the mythical 536! We were a bit stuck, people tried to help us, a storm came through, we caught a bus in the wrong direction at a big intersection, got caught in Delhi rush hour traffic (why is it called rush hour when it is so slow?) and after taking 3 hours to complete a 45min trip we collapsed in our hotel.

Chandni Chowk spice market Delhi

While Sheila relaxed in a warm bath, I did a food run for Rs50 ($1) of street momos that was almost too much for us both to eat. Am I a good husband or what?

Not finished. More to write. 7℅ battery left. Publish!

6 score pachyderms

Posted on October 13, 2015 by Steve

Played the tourist again, hired an auto and did the major haunts. It is the best way to get around a big unfamiliar city where the sights are spread out. Welcome to Jaipur.

It was a nice slow auto ride, not part of the plan, but, when the throttle cable breaks, it is part of the adventure. Poor Yash had to hold the end of the cable with a rag until he could make temporary repairs, then later we stopped at the auto repair workshop…actually it was just a spot by the side of the road more than any sort of workshop, but it was fixed.

There is a weird gene in the Indian population where some people have grey/green eyes, it is a very attractive look…seriously. This guard was a photo favourite

First stop was Amber Fort. I hate to sound blasé, but it is your pretty standard Indian Fort meaning it is big, spectacular, beautiful and quite amazing. This one is also crowded, I am now in the golden tourist triangle – Delhi, Jaipur, Agra – and there were lots of groups of European tourists.

More amazing carved sandstone screens so that people could discreetly watch the goings on below.

But as usual there are surprises. In a corner of a crowded square is a sign explaining about underground water tanks. Nearby is a bored looking guard next to an iron gate. I go to peer through the bars on the gate and bored guard is suddenly as animated as the guards get (not very) and opens the gate for me. Down down down, all alone to the underground water tank, too dark for a photo.

I love this shot looking down onto the main path up from the top of the Fort.

Later I see a half hidden sign pointing to the secret tunnel. The tour guides lead the packs past a doorway, I venture in and alone again I head down down down to a tunnel that was an escape route from the castle if the hordes were attacking…or paparazzi are waiting at the front gate.

All this is great, but no one told me about the elephants. There are 120 of them carrying people in a steady procession up the mountain to the main courtyard past hordes of touts selling textiles, carvings, umbrellas and photos – maybe they should use the tunnel.

I can imagine the same scene in Australia. People would be wearing seatbelts and helmets, the elephants would walk behind a big fence, everything would be so safe. But this is India and you walk with the elephants, mahouts will shout at you if you get in the way.

You really walk with the elephants, close enough to touch them (if they aren’t moving). It was so awesome being so close to an elephant, but being surrounded by so many of them was indescribable.

All this and more during the day plus the fun of tracking down another baoli (stepwell). Not as big or spectacular as the one in Jodhpur, but still remarkable. I have found 3 to visit in Delhi.

Meena ka kund Baoli at Amber Fort Jaipur

Meena ka kund Baoli near the Amber Fort Jaipur

In Pushkar a couple from Argentina had told me about the Hotel Hathroi Palace in Jaipur. A couple of young guys took over the lease in mid 2015 and are turning it into what will be a cool and popular hangout. They already have a great chill space on the roof, are decorating and renovating and if you toss in great personalities it will rock in a year or so. This is an unashamed plug for the place that will hopefully increase their internet profile.

One of the residents around the Monkey Temple

I asked about a concert of some sort, I hadn’t seen any music yet. Yes, there is something on tomorrow night I am vaguely told. Yash to the rescue in his auto, we head off to somewhere, I have no idea where or what.

Turns out to be the very flash Hotel Diggi Palace, very flash indeed. Hmmm…. I am directed down a side street to the servants entrance and a sign announces that on a beautifully warm Jaipur night, the very flash back courtyard has been taken over by the Sufi Music Festival. I can’t believe my luck…again.

I got to see four vastly different performances. The first, with only about 10 other people was very devotional and everyone had to have their heads covered. The words to the “songs” were displayed using PowerPoint – good to see PP is just as bad everywhere in the world. The tabla player was incredible.

Crappy photo but I missed my opportunities, this guy was what I guessed is some sort of poet or performance artist. He certainly dresses well.

One great thing about the event that puzzled me was that all the announcements and banter by musicians was bilingual. First in Hindi, then in English. I was delighted, but being the only westerner there I wondered who the English was for.

The woman was the lead of this trio and had an extraordinary voice. The instrument, I have no idea of the name, rests on her shoulder as you see and is essentially a drone, it is strummed without any work on the neck at all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DnSk_YnxIjQ

I didn’t want to mid another photo op, so I went down the front, in the VIP area, having earlier expressed my dismay at being turned back when I boldly tried to walk in at the beginning of the night. “But I am a VIP” I huffed and puffed to much laughter. This time I simply went to the other end of the fence where it was completely open. Down to the front, I sit on an empty VIP couch in row two, but is effectively the front row at this spot, a couple of photos, perfect. Great music, I make myself comfortable. I have the whole couch to myself, a bit further down some real VIPs including government ministers are being fawned over and photographed.

I am very comfortable now and regret leaving my bag and sandles back in the cheap seats. I consider going and getting them and making the move permanent, but have learned in the past that when you are scamming, it is good to not draw attention to yourself. Eventually a group of real VIPs join me on my couch, completely spoiling my premium experience by talking, using their phones, not clapping and just being on my couch. I think I may appear in a photo in a newspaper and have half of India speculating about who I am.

The headliner was great. An apparently well known young woman who performed contemporary rock Sufi music and the crowd went off…in an Indian way. I can’t speak for where you live, but had this been in Australia the audience would have been on their feet about half way through the set, dancing, clapping, singing. Not in India.

The video is early in her show, I got caught up in the event and as well as crowd watching forgot to shoot more video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1WglOOM5uo

Despite bursting with joy and excitement cheering and singing, people would jump up, dance for about 5 seconds then reluctantly sit down again. This was happening all over the audience. Despite all the fantastic energy, there weren’t even people dancing around the sides or back of the crowd. I was truly hoping she would invite everyone to get up so it would really go off. Unfortunately I didn’t think to video towards the end, so this will have to do.

Eventually as the final song built to the usual concert crescendo they couldn’t hold back and for the last 30 seconds the place erupted. At every other similar concert you and I have been to there are then screams and claps and whoops for an encore and of course the act obliges with their 3 pre planned encore songs.

But this is India, we just went home.

Footnote: never buy a tablet if you plan on producing content, they are for consumption. This post has been particularly painful to edit and has taken 2 days to (hopefully) get right.