Where on earth is Tim ?

Yuki Bear and the Cho La

Bhuwan and I discussed our plans as we settled into dinner at Leboche. We were on a high given the excellent weather and views we had experienced of Everest during the past couple of days. The weather was looking good and stable, so Bhuwan and I decided to gear up for the long day to pass the Cho La. The Cho La, a high pass between two major valleys in the Everest Region, serves as a short cut saving several days walk but it's also a challenge in its own right. I knew it would be difficult as Bhurwan insisted on good weather and that the summer is the right time of year to be attempting the pass. He also grumbled a little that the lodges at a high camp on the way were shut, which if they would have been open would shorten the day by some three hours.

At some point Mathias burst into the lodge with Yuki. Mathias and I were soon talking about our time in India and then we drifted onto our trekking plans. At this point the soft spoken Yuki, a pHD student from Japan quietly asked if he could join Bhuwan and myself on our attempt of the pass. We explained it was tricky; a long day, likely to be 10 hours, hard going, probably some snow and that a packed lunch was needed. Yuki said no problem, he'll be fine and he'd take care of a packed lunch ! I conferred with Bhuwan a little ... he's better off not going alone, so he's better off joining us !

Yuki and Bhuwan. Check out the clouds rolling into the valley

So off we traipsed, at 7am the next morning, towards the Cho La pass. Its was another blue sky morning with a few small clouds lower down the valley. And off traipsed Yuki with us, in the attire of; a pair of cheap trainers, corduroy trousers, (what appeared to be) an English hunting jacket, a old canvas bag, all topped off with a neatly wrapped silk Buddhist scarf round his neck. He also didn't seem to have much in the way of wet weather gear, other than a bright orange plastic bag, draped over his shoulder in a superman style. He sported a pair of bamboo poles as trekking sticks. It was at this point that I started to realized that I was actually starring in some surreal Flintstones adventure.

Quite quickly it was apparent that Yuki was not that fast. Nor that he actually had a packed lunch. He had some bird mix. Really, I've seen parrots eating that stuff.

And using the term 'Lunch' was a little off the mark. It was a bird mix break every half an hour. Really. At lunch time proper, I felt a bit guilty when Bhurwan and I got stuck into our Egg and Nak cheese sandwiches, while Yuki pecked at his bird mix. I found out afterward's that Yuki picked up his bird mix, in bulk, at the start of his trek, as a means to keep the costs down. As you get higher, so does the price of supplies, especially food. Everything is brought in by foot, and at Kalar Pater, your around 12 days walks from the nearest road head. The food had reached European prices by this point.

The going then started to get tough. We started to scramble over sections and met snow. At first it was small sections of snow which could be avoid by sticking to rocks. But soon it was deep, wet snow, as the terrain leveled off towards the pass. Bhuwan was doing a fantastic job of breaking a trail. At first he broke the trail in some old snow-prints. Then they disappeared, presumably that group having turned around. I wondered if we should.

We kept having to wait for Yuki. Unfortunately when he did appear out of the mist, in our tracks, so did lots of questions; Where are we ? am i going the right way ? Is the pass near ? I kept having to tell him; 'all you need to do is follow our footsteps'.

By this point the pass was covered in cloud and mist. Breaking the trail in the snow was hard work  and I was really beginning to wonder if we would succeed. Bhuwan was doing a magnificent job of trail breaking, while passing comment that it was 'incredible' to be encountering so much snow in June. We passed a massive Bergshund and what seemed like an hour later we were standing on the pass itself. I was dead impressed by Bhuwan's navigation. Yuki stopped for a bird mix celebration.

We carried on and 50m over the pass we faced a fiercely steep slope, our way down and covered in deep snow. After a bit of discussion we made the decision to turn round. It was too dangerous to carry on without Ice axes and crampons.

And then the Flintstone wheels came off. Bhuwan started to feel unwell. And then me. Stuck on a 5400m high pass, cold and wet we knew this was not good. We needed to get down fast, which was hard as we kept having to wait for Yuki. I was shocked as he appeared out the mist and almost took a big fall; he was using his bamboo poles to 'walk' down a scramble. I told him to ditch the poles. Well, I think I might have also sworn at this point.

We made it past the climbs. Another bird mix break. For some reason Yuki also offered me and Bhuwan a clove of garlic. Really. He then explained that he had a dodgy knee and was not very fast. No surprise there Sherlock.

With Bhuwan and myself feeling rather awful we continued to limp back with Yuki falling further and further behind, the waits becoming longer and longer. We kept calling to Yuki. He never replied. We needed a better flintstone ! Thankfully the tricky sections were over and Yuki kept proclaiming he knew the way, asking us to continue at our speed. But we kept waiting every 20 minutes or so.

Several hours later, we arrived at the nearest lodge of Thukla. Yuki was probably no more that 10 minutes behind and of course he knew the way ! So feeling tired and unwell we quickly had a hot drink and some dinner. A hour later we began to wonder where Yuki was... and sure enough we started to hear cries of 'Hello' ... 'Hello' ... 'Hello'. Yuki was lost in the mist and could not find the Lodge. We had to go and find him. He crawled into the lodge, took a bed and was off to sleep in a flash. No dinner and no breakfast. I suspect he was at his bird mix. Must be good stuff.

We later saw him in Tangboche on the way down. He was merrily on his way to Gokyo,the only way he knew ... an unnecessary detour of several thousand meters in height and a few miles extra walking

.

Its amazing what you can carry after a few Changs !

Bhuwan and I made our way back to Lukla over the next few days, so I could fly back to Kathmandu. After our epic I was not feeling great and the enthusiasm of going to the Gokyo valley had waned. Bhurwan obliged on the last day of my trek with a Chang tour. Chang, the local rice beer was rather good. I tried the Rice, Barley and Millet varieties and then floated into Lukla, quite merry. A suitable end to my trek.

I've spent the last few days chilling in Kathmandu and am off to Beijing on Sunday.

Anyone in need of an extraction ? Or a filling maybe ?

For the past few days I've been to the most visited places in India, Delhi, Agra and finally Varanasi. Unfortunately I forgot to remove the tattoo from my forehead which reads 'Need Hashish, Guide & Hotel. Please help me !' as the touts just won't leave me alone.

After eight weeks traveling in India, I was beginning to wonder if there was much more to surprise me. Conclusion ? Your never far away from your next surprise, as I found out when I met a street Baba in Varanasi this morning.

This guy is your main man if your in need of any dentistry in Varanasi. You name it, he does everything from false teeth to fillings, crowns, teeth extraction, caps ... well he does the lot. And all at the 'Indian' price ... as much as you can afford. There was a queue and I was reliably told he knows your 'price bracket' before you've even opened your mouth (no pun intended). This chaps main qualification, I'm reliably told, was sitting outside a dentist for a good few years learning the finer arts of the trade while 'window shopping'. He now is, apparently, one of the main guys plying dentistry in Varanasi, even for the well off who want to get their teeth fixed fast, with no need for an appointment ! His shop sports a ever so scientific chart proclaiming 'The key to good health is good teeth', now a dirty shade of yellow, thanks to the rickshaws hammering down the road just a few meters from his dentists chair ... which is, errrrrrr, technically speaking, actually in the road.

Sadly this Baba nor many of his clientele are very clued up on HIV nor any of the other nasty infections transmitted though needles, which are rife in India, such as Hepatitis.  For anything requiring anesthesia, you get a choice of needles, used or new. Of course the new ones cost, and you have to wait for someone to run off and buy one.  As I milled about on the street watching, a young girl arrived for a filling in what was obviously a very sore and rotten tooth. I could see her thinking about the choice of needle. She choose new. And it was not a happy yelp she gave when the needle went in. At this point, I did not stay any longer. This evening, I did however get a view of my Waiters new front teeth. He was very happy thanks to baba. It does make me wonder what he Indian government, NGO's and humanity can do to help the poor of India with their teeth, which seem to be in a very poor state through years of drinking super sweet Chai and Chewing Paan, all leading to no choice but Baba if your poor. I am sure allot can done though education on prevention.

Thanks to my protracted stay in Dharamsala, i didn't get much time in Delhi other than a whistle-stop tour of the sights, which did not impress me much, probably as they are dwarfed by many of the places I have already visited in Rajasthan. I did however meet some money changers on the street and they were interesting.

These chaps change money. Lots of it. Trade in your old wrinkly notes for new ones ... only for a 5% commission. Even better, trade them in for coins and get more for your money ! We struggled a little thought the Hindi-English language barrier, but I understood a 10 rupee note will get you something like 11 rupees in coins. What a great way to make money (pun intended this time). I just wonder what cut the policeman in the booth next door gets ?

After less than 24 hours in Delhi, I headed for Agra, home of the Taj Mahal and you guessed it ... the quintessential shot from India that everyone expects. This Photograph nor any that I have seen do any justice to the magnificence of this building. Its simply stunning, especially in low light.

Thankfully there were not many people there. But then it was 5.45am.

But sadly I don't remember Agra for the Taj Mahal, Fatehpur Sikri or even the wonderful Mausoleum of Akbar. I remember it because I got sick again. Another bout of Delhi Belly, this time with dehydration throw in for good measure. On the eve of leaving India being sick has to be absolutely the WORST thing about india. I'm not sure you can avoid it during eight weeks, without being a hermit. It what i hate the most. This being the third time I've mentioned my bowel movements on this blog, I would like to apologise for the repressiveness.

I bolted for a AC room in Varanasi, saw a doctor for yet another bout of medication and settled in for some rest and recuperation. A day or so later, I was ready to venture out and discover the Varanasi that I've read and heard so much about. Its one of the oldest spiritual cities of the world, maintaining its religious life since the 6th century BC. Ands its a fascinating place to watch the world go by; Thousands of Pilgrims coming to the banks each morning and evening to spiritually cleanse themselves in the sacred waters of the Ganga (Ganges); Brahmen performing Puga (worship) on its banks; Pilgrims letting burning candles float off down the Ganges; 24 hour cremations at the burning Ghats; the scattering of the ashes; Children swimming and playing; Mother watching on; Cricket being played in every available space on the Ganges Banks; Cows blocking the narrow alleyways; Dung everywhere; The hustle and bustle of life in the alleyways .... Its was a great place to recover.

Tomorrow, I'm off to Katmandu so it is time to say goodbye to India. I have given a lot of thought to my original plans to visit the Karakoram Highway in Pakistan following China. With the recent terrorisim in Pakistan, with a bombing in Lahore just a few days after I left, I've decided to pass on Pakistan and I hope to return to India. I will head to the wonderful himalayan kingdom of Ladakh which is high and dry, away from the effect of the monsoons. I hope it will provide a memorable alternative.

I will miss India. Its an enchanting place, which has me hooked... albeit not while I was sick.

Flashpackers Guide the Galaxy ? You'll find it here...

I've never thought of myself as stereotypical. I even like the phrase "Why be normal ?" I then came across the following in The Indian Times:

Dammit. I write this blog on my Macbook, sometimes listening to my iPod and almost definitely after downloading the latest piccies from a Canon SLR. And usually its done in a backpackers hostel that costs 250 rupees a night (about £3). Really. Flashpacker ? I'm mortified.

You meet allot of people traveling. Over the past few years, I've met quite a few traveling in the remoter regions of the world, but mainly English, Dutch and Israeli. These three nationalities seem to crop up everywhere. I assumed India would be the same, but after seven weeks, I was beginning to wonder where the Israelis were ? And... I've finally found them ! They're hauled up in Bagsu village, near Dharamsala, getting henna tattoos, partying hard, smoking pot and touting lots of 'Free Tibet' tops. I kept my eye out for any 'Free Palestine' tops. I didn't see any.

So, I'm in McCleod Ganj, nr Dharamsala, the place chose as home for the 14th Dalai Lama after he fled Tibet 50 Years ago. Nestled at 1800m high, its got a refreshingly cool climate, making this a top hangout joint for westerners and middle class Delhian's alike. As well as being the home of the Dalai Lama, there is a large Tibetan refugee community, meaning you can't go many places without bumping into a traditionally dressed Tibetan woman or a Buddhist monk clad in crimson red. There are Tibetan crafts, shops, flags and food joints everywhere, accompanied with a large sprinkling of 'enlightened' westerners calling this home for a few months of the year. Its also got the best western food I've come across in India, with the food hygiene standards at levels you find in the west. Pizza, Pasta, Pies, Bakeries and wonderful salads. I done nothing but gouge on salads for the past few days. And I've remembered what it as like to fart... something I've forgotten in the last two months with a diet of mostly Indian food.

I also had my first hot shower for two months and there was something strangely reassuring about this experience. It made me feel like I was at one 53 Coldershaw Road ... AKA home and for a moment I even missed the UK's climate! I would almost go as far as saying that Dharamsala is not really India ... if only one could get away from the constant beeping of horns. I mean, I still don't get why Indian drivers do it ? Why beep your horn when a pedestrian has already seen you and is well out the way ? Why beep your horn to the car on the other side of the road ? Why beep you horn in a traffic Jam ? Does it make the Jam go any faster ? Its an ingrained habit of driving in India and its one of the most annoying aspects of India for me. You can't escape it. I think horns should be banned ... but then again being the principle instrument of road safety in India, that might not be such a good idea. Their road safety record is bad enough.

I came prepared for my travels with a set of hiking boots especially to do a spot of hillwalking In places like this and it was such a struggle to put on a pair of boots after the pleasure of wearing sandals for the past two months. But it was worth it, a few hours in and the hustled 'n bustle of McCleod Ganj, the car horns and the street hawkers were well and truly gone. Your left with the sight and sounds of the Himalaya and the gentle fluttering of Buddhist prayer flags floating in the wind. Its magic. To the south spans the vast plains of the Punjab and to the north towering above you are snow capped peaks announcing the arrival of the Himalayas. Its a special place, quite unlike anywhere I've been trekking before. The walk culminated in a high Pass at Triund, where i took lunch at a high mountain tea stall. It was all rather good, until, a hailstorm caused an interruption, throwing marble sized hailstones down for a good hour. The landscape turned to snow white within minutes. I waited this out and completed my circuit joined by a group of Buddhist monks and a pair of stray dogs. Like many dogs in India, this canine pair have sussed that Gora's (Common Hindi term for white foreigners) won't beat them. So they like to hang around with us.

I'd have liked to stay longer, if it was not for the fact that I'd already booked a string of trains to meet my date with Delhi, the Taj Mahal and then Varanasi. Through some stroke of amazing luck my return flight back was canceled, swapping Delhi for another day in this fantastic place. Sipping my morning coffee on the final day in McCleod Ganj, I came across a quote from one Sir Richard Burton, which neatly sums up the act of going traveling. I like it:

"Of the gladdest moments in human life, me thinks, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands. Shaking off, with one mighty effort, the fetters of Habit, the leaden weight of routine, the cloak of many cares and the slavery of a civilisation, man feels once more happy"

Sir Richard Burton, upon embarking for the African Coast, 1856.

4am madness!

I've done a few stupid things in my life.

Like the time I had a few beers, fell asleep on the train home, woke up in Brighton and decided that it might be a good idea to walk home...30 km later I gave up, phoned my dad and got lift the rest of the way home. At least I can blame this event to being a teenager...but not this time ...

I feel asleep waiting for my 2am train to Amritsar. Completely sober, I woke up at 4 am. Now I suspect that any normal person would have cursed and have gone straight back to sleep ... No, I decided that this being India, I should go and check to see if the train has left anyway ... which it had. By this point I'd left my hotel room and was now stuck in Bikaner at four in the morning. So I went to the Private bus stand, where, not surprisingly there were no buses. But I was lucky to find a travel agent who was already open for the day (probably for people like me). He took pity on me, sold me a ticket and let me doss in his shop until the first bus in the right direction arrived .... that was at 6am. I was a little fortunate as the bus was a sleeper, but it only got me half way...

Sikh guardian patrolling the Golden Temple at Amritsar.

So I got to Amritsar, a little later than planned and in a lot less comfort. But it was worth it; The focal point for the Sikh faith, the Golden Temple was awesome... I was simply awestruck by the sheer beauty of a gold covered temple glistening in the middle of a lake, with the quiet chant of a sikh reading from the holy book in the middle. This was followed by an invitation to lunch from a Sikh at the colossal dining hall, where i joined at least a 500+ people to eat during a 20 minute shift. he Dining hall opens its doors to everyone and for free. Its part of one of the key tenets of the sikh faith - is equality for all, whatever caste, religion, colour and creed. The temple also has four doors; one for Christians; one for Muslims; One for Hindu's and one for Sikh's. All are welcome. Having seen the huge disadvantages you have being a member of an 'untouchable' caste in India, I really understand the importance and symbolic aspect of this for all Sikh's. Whilst traveling in India it has not been uncommon to hear of stories of high level castes (Brahmen for example) refusing to eat in the same place as a member of an untouchable caste. In parts of Rajasthan there were even separate wells for the different castes to use.

Amritsar is also home to a Jallianwalla Bagh memorial where a certain British Brigadier General, by the name of Dyer mowed down several hundred non-violent protestors during the british raj era, around 1919. Having seen where the massacre took place, a park with only one entrance & exit, through which General Dyer marched in, I am gobsmacked on why anyone in their right mind would consider such an action and continue the order to fire for 5 minutes ! General Dyer was asked to retire as a result, but the British residents in India raised a staggering £26k (probably more like £500k in todays money) to supplement his pension fund during retirement. No wonder, this was a turning point for the British Raj and the Indian independence movement. Its a sad episode which leaves a very negative focal point against the British Raj.

Prior to missing my train, I stopped over in Bikaner to visit the uniquely weird rat temple at Deshnok. Rats are everywhere, sleeping, squabbling and thriving off the constant offerings of food from pilgrims. I had to make one of the most forced similes of miles of my life, surrounded by rats, while wondering if one is going to accost me. Thankfully that experience is over!

Rats drinking an offering of milk.

Wondering around Bikaner, i saw my first Guru, or as some guy kindly explained to me ... he was a living god, of the Jain variety, since he had found enlightenment. He had a good bunch of devotees all dancing and clapping. There were posters up and around town with his image... it was a spectacle, and n a strange way, it felt a little bit like an evangelical Christian gathering, except this was a Jain Guru.

I plan to visit Pakistan tomorrow, so I had to go as see the outrageously laughable border ceremony at Wagga, where both the Indian and Pakistani border guards enact a border closing parade. Its a stupendous contest to try and outdo each other with a series of moves straight from Monty Pythons ministry of silly walks, but all with a deadly serious tone between two countries that are still technically at war. Its well worth checking out on youtube.

So tomorrow, I'm off to Lahore in Pakistan. I plan to spend a few days there before returning to India and heading to the mountains ... its still incredibly hot and I need a break from the fierce heat.

Wind farms lighting up the border

I passed the Krishna Beauty Parlour in Jodhpur. The really are focusing on attracting foreign clientele, as is beautifully proclaimed by this board outside their shop. Good luck to them.

I'm now in Jaisalmer, North Rajasthan, which is nestled on the edge of the desert and is probably the most remote and least densely populated place that I'll visit in India. I like it here. The people are, for the most, desert people and with it come an openness, honesty and a friendliness that's hard to beat. I've just had dinner with the guesthouse staff on the roof, as after a few busy days, I'm the last remaining Gora (Westerner). They cooked up a communal mutton dish (that's goat in India) and invited me. It was all rather good.

Jaisalmer is a small town nestled around a sandstone fort built on a rocky outcrop. It was a major trade route for silk, opium and spices, however after years of decline it was dealt a final blow when India and Pakistan were partitioned, thereby closing the natural trade route at the Pakistani border. It was however dealt a lifeline with the building of the colossal Indria Gandhi Canal which has supplied this desert region with water and irrigation, allowing diversification into a bunch of stuff and the continued sustenance of a unique culture on the edge of the desert.

Its also the place where India entered the nuclear age, with a bunch of test explosions 200m beneath the surface a few miles away. This and the fact we are a 100 miles or so from the border with Pakistan means that there is a pretty high military presence. Apparently the border is lit up at night to prevent people escaping to Pakistan or entering into Hindustan. To power this colossal feat, the area is littered with giant wind-farms, an ideal use of the desert space. But lighting up the border ? Such is the tension that now exists between the two countries, but what a waste of energy for a country that needs it !

Between Jodhpur and Jaisalmer, you notice a distinct difference to the rest of Rajasthan and India. Carts are pulled by Camels, not Cows. Men and women are festooned in gold. Rajasthani men wear huge colorful turbans, which are meant to be quite cooling in the 40C+ heat of the day. In Jaisalmer, everything is built from wonderful yellow sandstone, a great reflector of heat, while in Jodhpur the house's are painted a lilac blue, which not only keeps the house cool, but apparently acts as an effective insect repellent. The blue was originally reserved for only the highest of Indian castes, the Brahman, but in today's enlightened age anyone can paint their house blue.

On the way to Jodhpur from Udaipur I visited Kumbalgarh, my first fort encounter for which Rajasthan is famed. I was blown away by the size of the place, with a perimeter wall of 36km. That's a full two days to walk around and considering the walls size plus width, it must have taken a long time and a considerable effort to construct. This is a really impressive fortress. The great wall of china is the only comparison I can think of, yet in some ways, combined with a palace, Kumbalgarh casts a rather unique spell. I later visited the fortresses of Jaisalmer and Jodhpur, which are just as impressive albeit much smaller in size and somewhat different with them both being the centre of towns.

The Fort in Jaisalmer. Very photogenic. I rather like it here.

Getting to Jaisalmer was an experience. I took the train from Jodhpur and due to the lack of availability of air-conditioned tickets, I had to plug for a 'second class sleeper' ticket. Traveling through the desert in 45C+ heat thought, is not so comfortable in a tin can on wheels. Luckily Indian trains have many windows which remain open, inviting a refreshing breeze to circulate whilst its moving. That's all well and good until you hit the full desert, when a large amount of dust and sand start blowing in and providing for a choke inducing journey, whilst covering everything. I've since bought a scarf in Jaisalmer. For my return journey, I plan to become the lone ranger...

Traveling on the Bus and train can be hard work. Its one of the regular places you will meet everyday Indians away from the tourist centers. With it comes allot of attention and questions; "Where you coming?" (which means; where are you from ?), "Where you going", "Are you married?", "What's your profession", "What age?", "What Salary?", etc. It continues, usually for the duration of the journey as people come and go between stops. I have resorted to saying that I'm an engineer to avoid the hassle of explaining my real job. I also emphasize my South African roots which helps my wallet. Being a Brit means your more likely to be taken for a walking wallet.

With Jaisalmer being in the desert, it was hard not to refuse the ubiquitous desert camel trek. The standard experience involves a camel trek, dinner by the camp fire followed by a night under the stars. I did not stay the full night, due to my continuing Delhi belly, but the crew were nice enough to run me back to Jaisalmer late in the night. In the end I opted to see the doctor who diagnosed a case of Amoebic dysentery which, I am proud to say, is quite rare to catch. Apparently its quite hard to shift without some pharmaceutical help, so good job I saw the doctor. All of this cost 700 rupees (£10), a bargain by western standards. 24 hours later I was right as rain, and tonight is the first time I've felt full for a while. The whole experience opened my eyes to a secondary benefit; the Doctor saw staff in the guesthouse in return for the call-out, as a form of Baksheesh. In other words, they struck a deal with a particular Doctor to consult their foreign guest (I'm sure for a princely sum, by Indian standards), and in return he'll see some of the guesthouse workers for free. In India, I've realized that there's honest Baksheesh and dishonest baksheesh. This is the kind of baksheesh that I like.

Over the next couple of days I'm traveling to the Punjab to visit the Golden Palace in Amritsar. On the way I'll be visiting the rat temple in Deshnok. I'm intrigued by this place. Like all Hindu temples bare feet is mandatory and if you step on a rat you have to donate a gold rat to the temple, plus, I should add, pay for a large medical bill after the rat retaliates...

Chicken curry in a empty restaurant ?

Road signs are mounted on the sidewalk in India and at 'Indian' height. I know this now, thanks to a rather large lump on my head.

I'm in Udaipur, Rajisthan, which is the old Mewar capital of the Rajisthan area. Its described as India's most quintessentially romantic city, with the most famous landmarks being the Lake Palace Hotel and the Jag Mandir Palace both floating like small islands on Lake Pichola. I was fired up to come here by some undeniably romantic shots of Udaipur and Lake Pichola on the Udaipur Wikipedia page. I was hoping to take a few similar shots myself but instead was greeted by a rather large festering puddle, the remnants of Lake Pichola. Unfortunately, the monsoons have failed to provide enough rain in the past couple of years to be able to keep the level of the lake.

With what's left of the lake, they still run boats to the lake palace hotel, through a dredged channel. I can hardly imagine that its much of a romantic feeling with the skipper trying to avoid getting grounded. But, its the only way they let guests get to the hotel, with is rather exclusive at $850 per night. In an effort to keep the place exclusive and the rif-raf out, they have posted guards around the dry parts of the hotel, as no visitors are allowed. I'm staying at a somewhat salubrious place for $10 a night, where I took the above photo from my bedroom. No wonder they want to guard this place from intruders, the guests will be shocked at how the rest of us live all for probably less than they pay for a cuppa !

You'll probably be quite familiar with the sights of Udaipur as the 1983 James Bond classic, Octopussy was shot here. And so, not surprisingly, this place is Octopussy crazy. There's the usual plethora of Octopussy souvenirs and tat. Most of the budget guest houses play Octopussy on dodgy old VHS recorders every evening, as a 'means' to entice you in and try their fare. Even the unofficial guides tout their services by claiming they know various places used in the various 007 various. After some research watching Octopussy, I realized that they are talking complete crap, as I already know is the case with many unofficial guides.

Its all a little bit of a let down, however the town still has oodles of charm and ambiance which has meant I've settled in for a few days. And I've needed to, after breaking one of my golden rules:

1. Don't drink the tap water. That means no ice, no salads washed in tap water and no mineral water with the top glued back on (yes, its happens !)
2. Only eat at busy restaurants, ideally ones that locals frequent
3. Always wash your hands before and after you eat, using disinfecting soap
4. Stay veggie in all but the most tried and tested places

I broke rule number two and four with a chicken curry in an empty tourist restaurant during the low season. I'm not sure when they saw their last guest, never mind when the chicken last flapped its wings and if they have a backup supply for their fridge during power cuts (or even if they have a fridge ?). I knew I should have walked around to find another place, but it was the third four story building I'd climbed in search of a place that was open. Result ? Dehli Belly like I've never had before. So I've hauled up in Udaipur, which is not such a bad place to be. Its the first place I've stayed in the hotel which has wireless, so lots of catching up with the world in general.

Its has allowed me to wonder around town a little more, and it seems that Udaipur in the place to come for a wedding. Every day there are multiple wedding processions passing through some part of town and small parts of this town are given over to selling jewelry as a dowry for the bride. Given that most Hindi weddings take place over a week, its a pretty happening place. Each procession is different, one to go and get the groom, one to get the bride, one for prayer, one to visit the lakeside Ghats (of the dry lake !), etc. Each procession is let by a brass band and a silver cart containing a massive amp with singer seated inside. Its a epic sight, especially with a huge array of different coloured sari's in tow. But after a little more of a detailed look, I could see that none of the chaps brandishing the brass instruments were actually playing and one poor chap with a french horn had the thing upside down ! But no worries, from the silver cart had music blaring at a deafening load volume, with the singer chanting a Hindi tune at a deaf defining rate. In front of the procession is some chap letting off fireworks and Chinese firecrackers. I flinched. So did the horse carrying the groom. I thought it might bolt, but then again, I guess he's used to it by now. I'm not.

Groom on horse

Prior to Udaipur, I traveled from Ahmedabad, the capital of Gujarat. The journey over was my first 'sleeper' bus experience even though I opted for a normal reclining chair as it was during the day. The bus was a dirty, infested flea pit and I was glad I did not need to spent the night on one of the higher level beds. It was obvious the chairs nor the beds had ever been cleaned. I've been really amazed at the total lack of maintenance in many of India's services, never mind preventative maintenance. I think the bus operators idea of keeping the upholstery clean is to leave the wrapping on the chairs for as long as it lasts, then just letting the upholstery get dirty. I mean, why don't they send the bus to an upholstery cleaner every month ? Surely they could operate with higher fares if the differentiated the service, or do Indians really care ? I am totally perplexed by this.

I spent the day in Ahmedabad wondering the town and markets. It was a interesting place, although busy and polluted. In addition to Mumbai, its now the second place I've seen that has mandated taxis to use natural gas. This includes the auto-rickshaws and I really noticed the difference in a crowded street with rickshaws flying past - here I did not have to cover my mouth in disgust (until a bunch of motorcyclists come past, which doesn't take long!). Natural gas is cheaper that petrol and this is reflected in the pricing of the rickshaws, as well, I believe, in the attitudes of the drivers. They were the most honest bunch I've met, I even had a couple of guys only ask for 20 rupees straight-off, which is a first. Speaking of environmental issues, I really can't remember seeing an incandescent light bulb in India so-far... they are all florescent. Why is it taking the west so long to wake up to the cost saving revolution, never-mind a green one ?

The highlight of my time in Ahmedabad was a visit to Gandhi's ashram, where Gandhi spent around 15 years of his life. It was packed with loads of well thought out background and it really brought into perspective how and where Gandhi formulated his ideas, as he changed from a well dressed lawyer in South Africa to a 'man of the people' dressed in a hand made white cloth, of which we are all familiar. Here Gandhi spent a large amount of his time reading, learning, thinking about the problems facing India, writing to people with such humility and living by a set of rules that many of us can learn from. It was an interesting place.

Gandhi's Ashram

Tomorrow I'm moving on to Jodhpur, for a very short period before I hit the desert in Jaisalmer. I just hope that the 3 hour bus journey is kind to me and my Delhi Belly.

Ledise & Gints, Welcome to Ellora & Ajanta

I've traveled from Mumbai to Aurangabad to visit the magnificent Ellora and Ajanta caves. I took the overnight sleeper train from Mumbai which arrived at 4am. This is now the third time I've had a 4am arrival on the sleeper train and arriving at such an unearthly hour is no longer beginning to bother me as much. And all because of my new alarm clock ... planned power outages at 6am in order to load shed during the hottest time of year, when everyone if electricity-guzzling with AC. The damn snooze button does not work either. At ten past six I am wide awake in a sweat ... time for the day to begin ...

Ledise and Gints, welcome to the toilets near Ajanta.

Ellora and Ajanta are quite a trek, nestled up in the northern part of the Maharashtra state, a sometimes desolate, hot, and dry place, that is, until the monsoon hits in June. Its littered with lots of small hillocks, forts, mosques and small Hindu temples centered around several small towns and villages. It is here that from the 2nd century BC, a community of Buddhist monks set up shop in the cliffs of Ajanta and later on, in Ellora.

These guys were ambitious. At Ajanta they chiseled out some 28 caves to use as monasteries and places of worship or meditation. Each being in the region of 50m x 50m, some bigger, it must have been a humongous effort to excavate and then carve to the perfection that they have achieved in many of the caves. There must have been a massive crew to support the monks and it must have taken a long time to excavate the massive amount of rock required. To finish it off they sculptured the pillars, doorways, windows and shrines to Buddha. Finally they decorated the walls with amazing paintings, that have survived to this day and rate as the finest art to have survived from an ancient civilization. The paintings are exquisite and have been fortunate to survive this long, primarily as Ajanta was abandoned around the eighth century AD and, with its cliffside location, in a remote gorge, it remained relatively untouched until it was 'rediscovered' by a British party in the early 19th century. I was impressed, but even more so when i visited Ellora.

Whilst in Ellora I was struck by the sheer number of caves and the vast volume of rock that has been excavated. In all, some 34 caves, a mix of Hindu, Jain and Buddhist were carved from Volcanic rock. All the caves are monolithic (I did not see a single bit of block-work), a fine testament to the attention to detail and the lack of errors in the work. And it was a serious amount of excavation, all with by chisel and hammer. Its just hard to fathom. In just one temple, the Kailash Temple, the amount of rock probably exceeds the total volume of a number of Welsh caves I regularly visit, such as Eglwys Faen. And then there is the exquisite sculptures, which are unbelievably prolific in all the various caves, but unlike Ajanta, Ellora has had many sculptures defaced due to the influence of Muslim faith in the thirteenth century. I recommend a visit to everyone.

For the past day I've traveled with a fine chap from France, who is coming to the end of his six month stay in India. He's had a bit of a rough ride; Amongst many things, he had to haul up in Varanasi for two weeks to be treated for Rabies after being bitten by a dog while he was wondering the streets at 1am. Prior to this he got really sick after drinking tap water. He now only drinks bottled water, but he's the only traveler I've met, who's been brave enough to go near tap water. But then he's a hard chap, while he was in Lima, Peru, he caught dengue fever (who needs repellent and a mossy net hey ?) and then was then robbed of his possessions on a late night Lima City bus by some guy brandishing a syringe of blood.

Traveling in Maharashtra state is very different to traveling I have done in the south of India. English is not used frequently and there is a resurgence of the Marathi language. Shops and road signs are in Marathi and that means I can't find a internet cafe, unless I know what 'Internet' it looks like in Marathi script or I find someone who speak enough English. I am sure this is a taster of rural China to come later in my trip.

While here, I bought some sunscreen. I am always a little suspect of cheap and shoddy branded sun-cream, as, not surprisingly, I don't really want to get burnt with some fake suncream in a tourist joint that does not have return business. So I opted for a bottle of L'Oreal. All seemed fine until I studied the label in a little more detail:

Looks real ? How many problems can you spot ? To check your answers against mine, click here.

Tonight I'm off to Ahmenabad in Gujarat, and then shortly on to Rajasthan. I'm currently hauled up in Jalgon waiting for my Train to Gudjarat. Without wanting to turn this blog into a literary of commercial product placements or even endorsements (L'Oreal suncream excluded), I promised to plug the hotel I'm staying in for a late checkout . Its the Plaza Hotel in Jalagon. Its very nice. The nicest 300 Rupee place in India so-far. I thoroughly recommend it, especially for a late checkout.

Writers Block

I'm arrived in Mumbai from Goa on Tuesday. A little earlier than planned, but it was just as well as Mumbai shut down on Thursday & Friday for the elections and I needed to get my Chinese VISA while I'm here. The elections in Mumbai happen a few days after my election experience in Karnataka, so I've arrived to another booze-ban. Turns out I'll end up in Rajasthan during its election phase. Good job I don't want a beer.

After a day negotiating the Chinese embassy and VISA application process, I headed for Leopold's Cafe in downtown Mumbai for a beef burger, my first non-veggie meal in over a month. I been having a strange fixation on a juicy beef burger and I have to say it was a bit of a let down. But what I was missing from my not-so-juicy burger was made up for by a surprise on the table next to me. I looked over and realised that one of the chaps pens was not working as he scribbled in a book. So I lent him mine.

Turns out I lent my pen to the author of Shantaram, who was passing through Mumbai in a process to sell the filming rights of the book. He returned my pen with a autographed napkin, including a birthday wish for the lovely Sarah. What a nice guy.

Having been here for a few days, I'm beginning to really like Mumbai. The horror stories I've heard from other travelers being continually pestered did not realise in my case, probably as I've wised up over the past month. Its a progressive, happening and wealthy place, demonstrated by the cheekiest Taxi driver I've come across yet, who tried to charge me 300 rupees for a 14 rupee journey. But he did know the way to the Chinese Embassy and I didn't. We settled on 80 rupees. I found out that Rickshaws are banned in Mumbai and all Taxi's have to run on LPG. I think London should do the same.

I also successfully managed to get my Chinese VISA, but word of warning, the 'express service' is anything but express. A three hour queue to submit my application and a two hour queue to pick it up. Turns out that each of the guys in the queue ahead of me was a travel agent with a bag load of passports. I should know by now, after all, I'm in india and there are a billion people trying to earn an extra dollar or few. Next time I'm going to pay someone to submit the application, just like the rest of India does.

The scars of the November 26th attack are present in many places, including some rather sobering bullet holes in the glass and wooden pillars at Leopold's. Facing criticism following the attacks, the Police have put in a bunch of measures to try and prevent another attack, but I have been left feeling that they are less than effective and are giving terrorists one of the things they want ...FEAR ON THE STREET... Quite how producing my passport when visiting a net cafe will prevent terrorism, I'm not sure. Apparently the terrorists used google maps to plan their attack, but then again, I'm not so sure they took a break from their rampage to quickly check the local map online. At Arambol Beach in Goa the Police even built a bunker on the beach, manned by a chap brandishing .... wait for it ... a bamboo stick. Quite why they need to protect a 500m stretch of beach when the coastline is hundreds of miles long, I'm not quite sure.

While in Mumbai, I did a slum tour in Dharavi which was an eye opener to the conditions that people have to live in to earn $2 a day, most of which they take home to their villages. Dharavi is a huge economic powerhouse churning out a multitude of stuff with a GDP of over $650 million. Most impressive to me was the recycling of waste from across India. Here they reuse or recycle everything, in particular plastics which they process into pellets to be sold to the manufacturers. What I found appalling is that the residents are not working for themselves. They are salaried (around $2 a day) by a mogul or don of some variety, who, not surprisingly, does not live in the slum. I concluded that the slum is a massive excuse for setting up industry and not worrying about the living conditions of staff, never mind health and safety. There were guys smelting aluminum indoors without any protective gear or even a simple extractor fan and chimney to get rid of the toxic fumes. I coughed and my eyes watered. There were chaps burning paint off tins, so they can be recycled. Once again, nothing to protect them... and it carries on... The government and NGO's are trying their best to improve the living conditions though better access to doctors, hospitals, water and sanitation, but I really hope that the Indian government takes a long hard look at the way these business are allowed to operate.

I went to visit a colleague and his family for a fantastic home cooked Lunch in new Mumbai. New Mumbai is a meticulously planned part of Mumbai which is a completely different and US shopping mall esque experience across the bay from Mumbai. To get there I got a hang-on-for-your-life-and-avoid-the-pylons experience riding a Mumbai commuter train. You need your wits about you without any doors on the trains, which are packed full of commuters. This is India at its finest.

Tonight I'm off to Ellora and Ajanta.

No Licence, No Helmet, No Paperwork; No Problem Sir !

Yesterday I hired a scooter to get around the immense boulder strewn landscape of Hampi. I've never driven a motorbike or scooter before, but with the immense scale of the site, the quite roads, a little encouragement and the exhaustion of cycling around in 30°C the day before, I decided to hire one... with hindsight, two wheels was a must as Hampi is simply massive, with many archeological sites several miles apart.

So I visited one of the many shops in Hampi hiring scooters and was met by a nice chap who, on my enquiry, replied; No problems sir, no license, no helmet, no paperwork, no problem sir ! Only 100 rupees for the day (thats about £1.30). I asked about a helmet ? "If you want, you must buy yourself sir! " I asked about the Police ? "No police will stop tourists sir, you can be sure". I can only assume there is a element of tolerance to provide this trade in Hampi, or ever Backsheesh from the shopkeepers ? I met Andrea's who from Cape Town and had previously hired a scooter in Goa. In Goa, he was regularly stopped by the police to check that his license was covered for scooters (which it isn't), each time the cop was looking for Backsheesh ... apparently the cops even use backsheesh to get posted to Goa as they will make plenty more from checking up on the tourists.

In its heyday Hampi must have been impressive. A passing Portuguese chronicler was astonished by its size, wealth, markets full of silk & gems, ornate palaces and fanatical festivals. Hampi was abandoned about 450 years ago when a confederacy of muslim force from surrounding states were drawn into battle. I wondered around the various sites and the place felt very special. While the stonework used for construction is not as impressive as the Inca's (The Inca's at Machu Pichu used much greater tolerances and fitted stones on all fours sides), the amount of stonework and the intricate carvings in the temples was impressive to see. This place is a hidden gem, not nearly as famous as Ankor Wat or Machu Picchu, but it should be !

One evening, I climbed up to the Hanuman Temple, for a sunset. It was a great place to watch the sunset over Hampi while listening to Brahman chanting in the background. Hanuman being the monkey god, there were allot of Monkeys about, which expect to be fed as for Hindu's its an auspicious thing to do. The monkeys came a little to close for my liking. I'm glad to have had my Rabies inoculation.

I stayed in Virupapuragadda, which is a river crossing by boat or coracle from Hampi Bazaar. Its great to see coracles still in use and being used to carry all sorts of stuff including motorbikes. Viru was a great chill-out place, and with it being so close to Goa it sees allot of backpackers traffic. I would have really liked to spend a much longer time relaxing in Hampi, however I needed to head for Goa to visit a couple of old friends before they return to the UK for the summer. The only thing I won't miss is the Rickshaw drivers, who run a cartel in Hampi. A journey from Hospet to Hampi is 70 rupees, however the journey from Hampi to Hospet is a 200+ Rupee journey. I tried to negotiate a way round the cartel, but it holds.

I've now been on the road for three weeks and I feel that i've finally got into the swing of traveling and have adjusted to this new way of life. Its good to be away from any semblance of work, instead just sitting back and observing the world around me. I really enjoy watching the world go by on Trains and Buses. Its Sarah's Birthday on Tuesday ... make sure to send her best wishes in Dahab - I am looking forward to Sarah joining me in Beijing

I may return to Hampi on this trip. Its a special place.

Sober up, it's election time !

I've moved on from Tamil Nadu and am now in Karnataka, where I spent a couple of days in Mysore and last night in Bangalore.

On a recommended from Gomathi's husband, who is a Bangalorian colleague of mine at OpenTV, I tried to get a seat at a good restaurant in Bangalore. Unfortunately the two recommendations were closed, along with many restaurants I saw plus all the pubs. Why ? It's the Indian General Election in two days time and the government has mandated that all places which serve Alcohol need to shut. I chuckled at the thought of the Indian Government not trusting its citizens to vote sober, but when found somewhere to eat, the waiter kindly told me that its down to 'Maintaining Law and Order'. This says allot about India's conservative attitude towards Alcohol, neatly summed up on the Kingfisher beer labels; "Liquor destroys Family, Health and Life". I had already been wondering why you can get a square meal for 30 rupees and yet a beer cost 120 Rupees in Tamil Nadu, which is more than you'll pay in Reading's finest establishment, The Back of Beyond.

Arriving in Karnataka was quite a change from Tamil Nadu. The streets are cleaner, people seem a little bit wealthier, more English is spoken, there are traffic lights (and people use them !), motorcyclists wear helmets (but its OK not to wear one if your a pillion passenger!), there is some funny Australian thing happening with policeman's hats and the rickshaw drivers really think they can take foreigners for a ride! I was also very surprised to find Kannada spoken, which is not only a completely different language to Tamil but uses a completely different script !

Bangalore itself is a hedonistic mix of semi-skyscrapers, Piccadilly circus lighting, trendy Indian youngsters wearing western clothes, clean pavements, street hawker free zones and choking traffic. Its very different to anywhere else I have seen in India. I had my first rickshaw driver take me for a ride, first a north, then a south, city tour to clock up the meter. What he didn't know is that he had a geek in the back with a watch that also acts as a compass. So we got into an argument, which ended abruptly when as I took his number and threatened to walk to the police. Result; Free ride but I was now the other end of town from where I wanted to be.

A couple of days ago, I traveled down from Ooty on a private bus, the non-ac variety, which was about three times the price of a government bus and half the price of the luxury liners touting air conditioned Volvo buses. It was a strange experience, with a bunch of what appeared to be up-and-coming Karnatikan's. One chap summed it up nicely; He was wearing ear muffs and a fake Nike woolen hat in 23C heat. Trendy.... Once we descended to plains and the heat jacked up to 35C+, out come the headphones to broadcast music to the rest of the bus. And boy did he think he was cool. Like really cool, especially as he was sitting next to the token foreigner on the bus. I smiled and thought this must be the equivalent of Indian Chav. Traveling on the "Volvo AC bus"  to Bangalore was a much more pleasant and relaxing journey filled with what appeared to be successful middle class Indians. That said, I've really warmed to traveling on the government buses with the cooling breeze of a windowless bus, super fiendly people (even though little English is spoken) and not much luggage (so there is room for mine), despite the buses being a little dilapidated.

I've spent a couple of days in Mysore to see the very impressive Maharaja's palace and a famous market selling all sorts of stuff; Hardware, Kitchen utils, fruit + veg, all sorts of fragrances, incense sticks, piles of wonderfully colorful kum kum powder, flowers and much much more. I was shown how to make a Incense stick using just a sandalwood powder which was fragranced with real honey. This was however a good sales technique to get me into the sho but it was great to see how insence was made. The piles of kum kum powder is something you won't see outside of India. Finally Mysore taught me another top accommodation tip; Don't choose a Hotel to next to a Mosque, unless your a Muslim. First call to prayer is 5.20am in India !

I am now well and truly on the beaten tourist trail and so have met a bunch of really great travellers in  the  past few days. In Ooty I met this guy called Jon who is spending a couple of years teaching in Pune (nr Mumbai). He was a good crack and had a few stories which I must tell as it sums up a little of India:

A fellow teacher of Jon's got a new house and hired a Gardner to tidy the garden up a bit. There was a huge pile of broken glass in the corner, so what does the Gardner do ? Throw it over the garden wall into the kiddies playground next door!

And another cracker that I liked:   Jon set a geography exercise for the kids to map out where they would buy stuff in town. This one kid from a 'new money' family, put only one place on the map - Chor Bizarre. When asked, he explained that this is the Chor Bizarre is the thieves market and you can get everything you need there.

I've just arrived in Hampi where I'll spend three days before heading off to Goa.