Joanne and Judy in India

Three weeks later.

2010-03-15T14:10:00.001-07:00

Well, it took me three weeks but the pictures are finally up for your viewing pleasure. Sorry for the wait. I like Blogspot for the writing part but the photo posting is not easy. I can write 10000 words faster than I can upload 10 pictures. But, on the positive side, the delay has given me more time to reflect, ruminate and remember (and recover!).

I have had people mention that they couldn't tell if I enjoyed myself. I can assure you that I did. I have said it before and I will say it again, Judy was awesome to travel with. I love someone who thinks I am hilarious. Now that she is retired, I am going to hire her just to hang around with me to improve my self esteem. I don't remember laughing so much as when we were together. We had some pretty crazy times in India with Suresh, who thankfully made sure we weren't too out of our league. I can't even imagine landing there without some sort of support/friendly faces to meet me. And once I was alone, I was okay because I had the chance to get my 'India legs' under me, thanks to Judy and Suresh.

India is so amazingly beautiful, I can't even begin to describe it. My pictures really do not do it justice. Plus, what can't ever be conveyed in photos, the fragrance! I anticipated that India would be full of awful smells. But, at least in the south, India smells like flowers and spices and fresh breezes all mixed together in order to intoxicate you into falling in love with the country. Job done.

I realize almost no one actually read the whole blog. It is way too long. But scroll through the pictures for a quick overview if you have time.

Thanks for checking in once in awhile. Joanne

Here are a bunch of pictures that didn't make it into the narrative in the previous posts.

home again, home again

2010-02-22T03:58:00.000-08:00

Well. I got home just in time apparently, Lufthansa pilots just went on strike today and they have cancelled most of their international flights.

It is 4am on Monday morning, I woke up at 1am and looked at my pictures. They pretty much suck but I will post them soon. I will try to steal some of Judy's excellent pictures so that there will be at least one or two nice ones in there.

OK, my trip home. Suresh arrived at the hotel as planned. He brought the extra suitcase with Judy's stuff. We didn't deal with the packing right away though because the restaurant was about to close so we went for dinner first. My last Indian meal and we got some sort of Manchurian mushrooms. Not exactly what I was hoping for but it was good. Then we went back up to the room to pack the last of my stuff into Judy's bag. Now remember, I had already packed my big backpack, I had bought a small carry on on the car trip where I had stowed some souvenirs and western clothes that I wasn't using. Plus I had bought a bunch of stuff from FabIndia that day which needed to go into the Judy bag. Judy had called while she was packing to leave 10 days before and asked if I could bring some of her stuff home because she was over limit on the allowable bag weight. She would send a half filled bag and I could use the rest of the space for my stuff. No problem.

We open Judy's bag. It was full! FULL! There is no way I was going to be able to fit my new purchases into MY existing bags. I had hoped to put in my new purchases and maybe even empty the small carry on bag I had already filled. Um, no. So Suresh, always awesome, says we can do this. We take a few things out of the Judy bag, which was tightly packed, and moved them to my carry on, which I would have said had no more room but apparently it did. Then we attempt to cram my FabIndia purchases, mostly fabric based, so fortunately flexible into the Judy bag. Suresh just kept piling it onto the already stuffed bag. Then he tries to do up the zipper. He had to actually (or actuala as Suresh would pronounce it) sit on the bag to make it close. It was like a bad sitcom. We were laughing pretty hard by this point. But there was still more stuff left to pack. So we opened my full backpack and crammed that to over capacity too. There was so much stuff.

Closing the very overloaded bag.

I don't think this is going to work.

Suresh to the rescue, sitting on the bag to get it to close. I can't believe it didn't explode mid-flight.

** post script. I spoke to Judy today (it is now 2:30 on Monday) and she told Suresh to buy a new bigger bag but alas he did not. So let's blame Suresh for the bag issue. this is especially good since he isn't here to defend himself!! haha.

When I went to check in, I put the two checked bags on the scale. Then the woman asked me to add the carry on bag. I put it on. She looked at me. I knew I was over. I looked at her. She knew I knew I was over. I smiled guiltily and handed her the Lufthansa form for air miles that I had filled out. She let me go through without penalty. I don't even want to think about what each extra Kilo might have cost, especially since I had to check those bags in Bangalore, Toronto and Vancouver. The only airport where I didn't have to deal with all of my bags was Frankfurt.

Me and all my bags at Coffee day at the airport.

But once I was through the check in, the first flight was fine. I mostly slept. Then in Frankfurt, my layover was so short, I literally got off my plane, crossed the airport and walked right up to the end of the line boarding the next plane. That flight was also good. As much as I dislike Air Canada, they do treat their international passengers decently. I had movies in the back of the seat, and since it was a day flight, I tried to stay awake so I watched four movies. A Serious Man, All about Steve, and two others that I may remember eventually. They fed us and gave us blankets and pillows. Even free booze.

But that couldn't last forever, I guess. When we landed in Toronto, I hadn't realized that A. I would to deal with Customs there and not in Vancouver, and B. that I had a five hour lay over. If I had known these two things I might have tried to convince Brian and Jennifer to come and meet me for lunch. But alas, there I sat. I couldn't walk around because that stupid carry on bag was by now 800 pounds. How I came to loathe that carry on bag. At one point I just abandoned it to go to the bathroom but unfortunately, nobody stole it so I had to continue carrying it.

While I was rechecking my bags, one of the security people overheard me telling someone that i was heading to Victoria. She suggested that since I was flying Air Canada to Vancouver and Air Canada to Victoria, I should speak to a ticket agent about seeing if I could get a direct flight. Sounded brilliant. So I found a ticket agent who found a ticket that actually left Toronto a little later but flew directly to Victoria and would get me in two hours earlier. Do it, I said. So he fiddles around for a while but it wouldn't work. It seems that even through I was on Air Canada, I was actually booked as Lufthansa so no changes allowed. No problem. I was still fresh at this point (pre-five hour layover).

But then I got onto the Toronto-Vancouver flight. Now I am domestic. Dreaded domestic Air Canada! I hadn't eaten anything but half a pack of 25cent cookies that I had bought at the train station so many decades ago. I couldn't face carrying the bag to find food, plus I figured that I would be ok because they would feed me on the plane. Not so. They don't feed domestic cattle. I would have had to pay for snacks. By that time, I was so tired I didn't bother to get any food on the plane. But I wanted to sleep and they hadn't put blankets and pillows on each seat. So I asked the stewardess for one. She said that I would have to pay for them. I may have sworn here, I will leave the actual words to your imagination. I said that I had been on Air Canada International for something like 36 hours at that point and they were going to make me pay for a freakin' blanket and pillow!! So she scurried away and found me a blanket in First Class that wasn't being used. But no pillow. I wish I had just bought the blanket/pillow pack since I now felt too guilty to try to get a pillow.

So no pillow, an inadequate blanket and a bulkhead seat under the coldest air vent ever. I wondered if they were actually blowing air from the -50 degree outside air but then I realized that that would mean that it was fresh air and Air Canada would never allow that. Just to continue whining. A bulkhead seat has lots of leg room so it is a coveted spot. However, leg room is not a problem for me. In fact, I like the seat in front as it gives me somewhere to put my feet so that the blood from my lower legs isn't completely cut off by the ill formed seats since my feet don't sit firmly planted on the floor. But no seat in front here. I had to curl myself into a pretzel to get my feet up onto the seat. At one point, one of my feet was actually through to the seat behind me. I'm sure that thrilled that passenger. AND, the video screen on the wall in front was too high so all of the images were sort of black on brown outlines. Not that I had it in me to watch a video but I tried when I realized I wouldn't be sleeping. Anyway, it was an excruciating 5 hours.

We landed in Vancouver. the airport was abuzz with Olympics. There were video scenes everywhere showing various events. I watched speed track skating while waiting for my bags. Canada lost. But there were people from every country all over the place. Groups wearing matching hats and generally exuberant. But alas, by this time, I wasn't able to properly appreciate that atmosphere. In fact, I was a mess.

I found the Air Canada check in and went to ask if there might be an earlier flight. When I booked my Vancouver to Victoria flight, I had two choices, one that left within an hour of my arriving in Van or one that had a four hour layover. At the time, I thought that I would be dealing with Customs in Vancouver, so I felt it was better to leave some time. But I had already cleared Customs in Toronto and my flight had actually arrive 20 minutes early. So I hoped now, I could get onto that earlier flight as opposed to my 11:45 flight. I walked up to the ticket guy and burst into tears. Nice. He probably had to bump someone to do it but he got me a seat on the 10 pm flight. I was so grateful that I think I may have cried again. Poor guy.

I called Paul for an earlier pickup and finally was on my last leg home. The plane loaded late because there was a Canada/Germany curling match on and it didn't end until 9:50 so we all waited for that, since the crew was watching I don't think we were going anywhere too soon anyway. Canada won by the way.

Paul and Chris met me at the airport, took me home, fed me fresh Cinnamon buns (made by Chris so the best ever) and tea. I was in bed by 12:30 and slept like a rock until 9:30 am on Sunday. I hoped that the extreme exhaustion had kicked me into the correct time zone but by 7pm I was already asleep on the couch. I hadn't even unpacked. I spent the day catching up on Lost. Now it is almost 5 am and I have to go to work today. That should be fun.

I was going to finish this up with some last thoughts on India but at the moment, I don't have any thoughts. so maybe later, when I post the pictures.

Some pictures of my purchases from that last day of shopping in Bangalore (and other days too). I took these once I was home (that explains the cat on the rug.)

The paper mache duck I bought because I couldn't find any real ones.

He looks kind of scared to have to represent all Indian ducks. I think he is doing a fine job.

My gorgeous semi-precious stone pendant. I LOVE it.

I bought this from a table at Hampi. It isn't real garnet, I just liked it.

My FabIndia silver necklace.

The singing Om bowl.

The Om bowl. You can see the handiwork.

My new table cloth.

The rug. Nice huh?

Detail of the rug.

Scarves.

Silk scarves.

My favourite India painting. It reminds of these beautiful trees with red orange flowers that grew in the jungle. Our Nagarhole guide called them Flame Trees. No picture of an actual Flame Tree.

The cow drawing that Suresh thought was too expensive at 50 cents Canadian.

Bird Camp!!!! YEAAAAAAAYYYY!!!

2010-02-19T21:10:00.000-08:00

While I was in Coffee Day on my birthday, my first full day in Goa, I was reading about what to do in the area when I happened upon a write up on a Backwoods Camp for birding. I called them the same day and had a somewhat garbled conversation with someone. He said I could come on Sunday, someone would pick me up at my hotel at 6:30 am. Yeeee, bird camp!!!!

Sunday 6:30, my drive arrives. The man is also going to be my bird guide. His name is Lovin'. I kid you not (except he spells it Loven - but what fun is that). He also looks alot like Sayid from Lost.

Lovin'

It is a long drive to the camp which it turns out is on the edge of a National Wildlife Preserve (whose name I have elsewhere) in the Western Ghats. Now, I'm sure I don't need to tell you, but the Western Ghats are a birding world hotspot!! Lovin' is not very chatty but he is pretty so that is ok. I asked how many other people we would be picking up and he let me know that I was going to be the only one at the camp. He had actually called me a day before and asked about my schedule but when I told him I was leaving and couldn't go at any other time, he seemed fine with that. But I had no idea I would be getting my own individual guide. We arrived at Camp at about 7:30 and I was shown my cabin. It reminds me of the tent cabins Mom and I stayed at in South Tanzania but it was an actual building. The camp also has tents but since I was the only guest, I got a cabin.

My cabin.

Inside the cabin.

View from the deck of my cabin.

The little cairn out front. It was the only way I could ever find my cabin.

No time to loiter, we had a quick cookie (biscuit) and tea break and then out to find birds. There is a 700 year old temple in the park so that is where we started. Lots of birds sitting along the edges of the clearing. Lovin' is an amazing spotter and identifier. He even knew what page each bird was on in my book so that I could confirm (for my own counting purposes) each species.

The temple.

Spotting birds.

The days at Bird Boot Camp were quite regimented.
6:30 am - Biscuits and tea
7 am - Birding til 9:30 or so
9:30 - Breakfast
10 am - back to birding
12:30 - Lunch and a break
3:30 - Biscuits and tea
4 pm - back out there til 6:30-7
7:30 - dinner

It was awesome! AWESOME!! I loved it. And of course, traipsing through the wood behind a Sayid lookalike - I, of course, had to be Kate (not quite a lookalike unfortunately). That first day, we saw lots of birds and I got lots of mosquito bites.

As I look at my pictures, I see that I only took two bird pictures, one of the Frogmouth and one very blurry Kingfisher. I will spare you the blurry one.

Frogmouth birds. These are a big draw at the camp. They wouldn't turn around.

Jungle adventure.

A giant squirrel.

Crossing a steam on our jungle hike.

Hunting the elusive Green backed kingfisher. we never did see one but we spent hours looking. I couldn't complain because it was such a beautiful spot.

It was blazing hot. At one point, we were in some field or other and Lovin' said it was 99 degrees (what is that in Celsius - a thousand?) Side note, the power seems to have gone out in the internet place but the computers must be on generator). No lights or AC though. I have to mention the wildlife in my cabin. When I first arrived, there were some spiders, kind of like daddy longlegs. They were big but seemed pretty harmless. But I accidentally stepped on one when I first arrived. By lunch, there were more. By bed time, they were massing, I assumed for a vengeance takedown. I had a shower and they really seemed to like moisture so I had lots of company. They were on the bed too, at one point I opened my eyes and one was right there in front of my face, staring at me (well, I couldn't see his eyes but I assume).

The big spider, before the kill off.

The next morning, I mentioned to Lovin' that they were kind of out of control. He told one of the 'boys' to clear them out. I hoped it was with a broom but I didn't ask for specifics. But when I returned to the cabin that evening, there was the familiar perfume of my old friend 'Raid Max', the only thing that kept the cockroaches at bay when I lived in Mexico. No spiders though. But, never fool around with an ecosystem. By nightfall, my room was full of moths. Then the next day, new spiders but these ones were big and hairy and looked like they could jump and bite. Then that night, there was an infestation of dead ants in the bathroom, they had reversed beached themselves into any standing water they could find, the wash bucket, the toilet, any little puddles of water, there they were - drowned. But at least, everyone else stayed off my bed. that's all I ask of my insects.

After two full days of Lovin' attention (haha - Loven is happily married with a baby by the way) new people arrived. It was a group of 11. Actually it was two groups, 6 Swedes and 5 Brits. The Swedes were hard core birders. the Brits were flaky. there was one couple who were not birders, they just thought it sounded relaxing. the other three were a older married couple and a female friend. the husband only wanted to take pictures of the birds, he didn't care about IDing them. But the two ladies were so stereotypical of old British ladies that I think someone should start a murder mystery series about them, two doddering ladies who stumble upon Murder whenever they are out using their binoculars. (Look, Hillary, there is a Jungle Babble. Yes, I see it Joan, but what is that in the background? A Body! and I see a clue next to it!! - as played by Angela Lansbury and Helen Mirren). It is getting bloody hot in here and I still can't see the keyboard. Anyway, I got stuck with the Brits. The non-birding lady kept pointing out the exact same bird every time (red vented bulbul) and I would say, that's a red vented bulbul and she would laugh. She was actually quite funny but no birder potential whatsoever.

My little British birding group. Obviously they have spotted something to the left, probably a Red Vented Bulbul.

That third day was a bit of a washout, I wish I had gone with the Swedes but it sounds like they didn't get much either. Although I was still stacking up the new birds just not the exciting ones. I am such a bird snob. That night, we went nightjar searching. I was the only woman to join the group. It was pitch black out and we had to climb a rocky hill to get to where the Nightjars hang out. The other ladies didn't think this sounded like fun. Wusses. So me and 5 men, all 6 ft or taller, headed up the hill. I only had my wee headlamp that Melissa had given me before the trip to light my way (I left my big one from Lea at home to save space - who would have guessed I would need the extra volts to not stumble and roll down a rocky hilly path). I made it and we found one beautiful Nightjar. I can't remember the species, but it was chestnut coloured and let us walk right up to it. It was just sitting on a rock, peacefully minding it's own business until we got too close and then it took off.

A picture of my nightjar, stolen from the internet.

The next day the Brits and I went on a field trip to Bondla National Park. More birds. Lovin' was going to drive my back to Panjim at the end of the morning and he had set himself a goal of me getting 75 new birds. I got the 75th just before we left the park. By now, he was more talkative and told me all about meeting his Russian wife and how he asked her to marry him after only one month.

I also took the opportunity to ask how it was that I ended up by myself for two days. It seems that his partner, when I first called, couldn't really hear me. When I said had read about the camp in Lonely Planet, he thought I said I wrote for Lonely Planet. No wonder I got special treatment. It worked out for me but I felt bad for Lovin' who gave up his days off to wander the jungle with me. But Lovin' was a nice guy and didn't seem to hate me for the misunderstanding. As we got close to town, he even asked if I had seen a Jacana yet. I said no so he took me on a side trip. He said he felt bad that hadn't seen as many birds on the last day so we stopped by a pond and picked up another 11!! (A rock dove - that completes my list - a Simpson's reference, you thought you were going to get away scott free - not) I gave Lovin' a big tip when he dropped my at the hotel. Paul, you need to come to bird Camp.

For the afternoon, I wandered around town for a while and stopped by my new favourite jewelry store, New Bazaar run by three Kashmiri men. One of whom was single and the other two decided we would be the perfect couple. They invited me to evening tea but I declined - I had blogging to do. I bought some more stuff and went back to the hotel to bed.

The next morning I went back to the bus station to catch a local bus to the train station. It was $21R for the bus as opposed to $600R for a taxi. The bus station I arrived at was two blocks from the train station. By now I had aquired another bag, (I have alot of bags - and I would like to note for the record that I have used all of the bags I brought and then some for all of you bag naysayers. ) But this meant I was lugging alot of stuff, in the hot hot mid day sun.

I made it to the station and had to figure out where my train would be, that wasn't easy, of course, but I made it and eventually the train arrived, miraculously on time.

The Train Station.

The stairs I had to carry my many bags over.

My first attempt at a self portrait, waiting for my train.

Now, I'm sure you all remembe but let me refresh you on Val and my experience on the train in Thailand. We sat and were served tea and dinner. then as darkness fell, the car steward arrived and turned down the beds. He made each one with fresh sheets and blankets and pillows. Then he put up curtains to give a bit of privacy. This is what I was expecting when I got a sleeper ticket for my overnight train back to Bangalore. Not so. It all started out ok, but I immediately realized that the trains in India in reality are not as romantic as they sound. I couldn't get a lower bunk so I had to take an upper bed, which meant travelling backwards the whole way (I think that if you get the crappy bed you should get the good chair, but that is not the way it works, it seems.)

My 'deluxe' seat.

My second and last attempt at a self portrait. Don't I look excited about my seat. As a bonus feature, check out the sweat pouring off me.

Anyway, we went through some mountains and I took some pictures (I haven't been taking that many pictures since Judy left). The scenery made that one hour worth it. Then it got dark.

Views from the train window.

Going into a cave.

Inside the cave, the sign announced that it is handcarved.

After a while a train person stopped by to tell me not to buy any food or drinks from strangers because there would be drugs in it. Not that there might be drugs, there definitely would be drugs. As it turned out, I wished someone had drugged me, at least I could have slept. As the hours passed, I realized that no nice car steward would be showing up to turn down my bed. So I climbed up to my hard, plastic lined bed and tried to sleep.

They looked bad enough before everyone arrived.

That does not look comfortable.

Yup. Nothing more to say.

First there were lights and noise. Then there was snoring. But mostly my problem was that I had a makeshift pillow and I didn't have enough water. But at about 1, I realized I could shove my makeshift pillow into my new bag with my fabindia purchases and make a bigger pillow. And low and behold - smart Morning Joanne had hidden some water in there for dopey Night Joanne to find. So pillow and water issues resolved. I finally fell asleep. Until 2am. that's when the real lower level bed passanger arrived on the scene to find someone else in her bed. Side note: do no piss off a Indian lady - they yell - a lot. so there was lots of yelling and light turning on and who knows what all was going on down there, I didn't dare look over the edge. That went on for way too long and someone official had to be called. More lights and ticket checking I think. Yea, power and fans back on. Anyway, long story slightly shorter. Very little sleep and I missed the stop I wanted to get off at.

I wanted to get off one stop before my actual destination but they didn't make any announcements and I didn't have a window to see where we were. But no worries, I got off at the next one which was only 4 kms further away. Auto rickshaw to Kamat Hotel, the first place I stayed at. Alisma, you will appreciate this. I said I wanted to go to Kamat Hotel (at 5:30 am) and was taken to the Kamat Restaurant. Eventually I remembered and started saying Lodging, Lodging. After alot of asking random men, we found the place and I went to bed.

It is now my last day in India. I have 90 more minutes until Suresh arrives. Did I mention that Judy wasn't able to take all of her stuff back with her so she left some with Suresh for me to take back. However, left alone with a FabIndia only a block from my hotel, I have done some damage today. My comment the other day about Christmas presents made me realize, everyone should get Indian Christmas presents! And I bought myself a rug. A RUG for Jimminy sake! That should take up some space. So, we are finally caught up. My next post will be from Canada. See you on Monday. Joanne

Goa

2010-02-17T20:59:00.000-08:00

It is Thursday morning, I am leaving Goa today. I don't have alot of time so here is the start -

After I left Delhi (where I almost missed my plane because I was in the airport FabIndia - shopping bags and pillow cases) I arrived at the only airport in Goa. I had made a reservation for a room (I now possess the amazing phone machine) while I was waiting for my plane (before I discovered FabIndia) at the Mayfair Hotel in Panjini (more commonly known as Panjim - three side notes in one sentence - good job!) which is the main town in Goa. My flight was uneventful (especially considering my new 'situation', luckily I was on the aisle) although I did sit beside a newlywed couple. The husband was from Birmingham and the bride from India. Did I mention that the area around Delhi is absolutely chock-a-block with wedding halls. They are all lit up and fancy. I can only imagine the cost of these weddings. We saw processions with horses, fire works, limos, massive amounts of people. Crazy. My seatmate agreed even though he had just done the same thing.

Once I landed I took a prepaid (long and very expensive) taxi to Panjim. By the time I got to my room it was after 6. I was pretty tired and dehydrated so I just stayed in my room for the evening. There was TV! I watched 'how I met your mother' & 'Bones'. Besides being crazy tired, I was still pretty much ok. The next morning (Thursday) I loaded up with Imodium and headed out to explore the city. It is very lovely and quite small. It reminds me of Mexico. It was founded by Portuguese Christians so the buildings are familiar. I did a bit of shopping. I bought my first pieces of jewelery. Side note - I have bought some gifts but this time I am saving them for Christmas or Birthdays because I always kick myself come December. If I get all excited about my purchases and try to give them to you, don't let me. I bought nice stuff.

Wandering around Panjim.
The Church

The big white Catholic Church in the centre of town.

The steeple.

Inside the church.

The view of the main street from the church steps.

The River

A House Crow at the river.

The river.

Fishing.

The town

This is the main tourist `street`, more like a little alley. The bikes are parked like that everywhere.

Construction sites in India involve a lot of sticks.

A little shopping break from sightseeing.

After a few hours of shopping and intestinal discomfort, I found a Coffee Day because I know what to expect of their bathrooms. While I was sitting there waiting for a menu, I remembered (at 2:30 in the afternoon) that it was my birthday. So I ordered a mocha ice cream and brownie sundae. It was delish.

I was definitely missing Judy by now. I was sick and lonely. Of course, Judy was lucky to get out when the getting out was good. I would not have wanted to be sharing a room with me those few days.

One of my goals for my first day was to find the bus station. The lonely planet said that there was a rail ticket window at the bus station so I could buy my train ticket to Bangalore. It took me all day (of not trying too hard) to find the station. There were a million buses in all directions. Eventually, someone directed me to the first building to find the train window. I see at line up at the first building. I wait a few minutes before I realize that I am in line for the dairy counter. I guess this kiosky building wasn't an actual building. When I found the station, I had to agree, the station was an actual huge building. It was in a circle shape with dozens of little shops and ticket windows. I wandered around for a while (the Lonely Planet said the window was on the first floor). I asked people who would point in the general direction. But in a circular building, this is not helpful. I asked the info window, who pointed. One of the wonders of India is that if you ask one person for directions, eventually another person will find you and tell you where to go. I can only imagine how many people have to participate in the 'telephone game' before one of them is elected to help the foreign girl. It turns out that the rail window was on the second floor, I didn't even realize there was a second floor.

The Bus Station.

I arrive at the bus station.

You can see how well organized it is.

From the second floor.

So I enter the rail ticket room and everyone is holding a yellow ticket. There is a big sign that says ' NO QUEUE - Get a number'. But I cannot for the life of me see where to get a ticket. I ask the person in the room who looks most likely to speak English. She points. There is a window to get a ticket to go to another window. Ok. So I dutifully stand in line while the ticket man chats up two girls. Then some man butts in and gives the man $10R. Apparently, you have to pay for a number. So I buy my number and wait, filling out the incomprehensible form I was given.

Eventually my number is called and then immediately passed over. I, of course, just forced my way in front of the next guy but I mention this because for the rest of my visit, the numbers were all wrong and I kept getting interrupted by people whose number was called too early. When I finally get to talk to someone, it is a women who claims to speak English. Ironically, there is a big sign in her window that says, and I quote, 'Communication Failure'. I don't know why it was there, but it was possibly the most accurate sign I have seen in India. I had tried to fill out the form while I waited but I didn't know what to put. I wrote Goa as my departure point and Bangalore as my destination but I thought I might have to buy one ticket to Mangalore and then another to Bangalore.

So I explain to the ticket lady that I want to go to Bangalore for Feb 19. She ignores me (I assumed but she was actually doing something to do with my ticket - she just didn't bother to speak). Then she gave me back my form and told me I had filled it out wrong. I needed to put a different departure point and arrival point. She told me the names but I could not understand what she was saying. I asked her to repeat, she repeated, I still couldn't understand. That went on for a while. She refused to fill in the names herself (why?) but eventually one of the several people crowded around me (looky-loos, number issues?) told me what to put and spelled it for me. Then she shoved a ticket at me and I was dismissed. But I had questions. No questions allowed, the next number had been called! So I left. But I had a ticket and a sleeper bunk leaving Goa on Feb 18 at 2:30 pm and arriving in Bangalore at 5 am on Feb 19.

The train ticket office. The number giver is on the right.

My ticket seller. Note the prophetic signage in front of her.

It was dark by then so I just headed back to the hotel for my American TV fix. I really didn't feel well and I couldn't face dinner so I bought two packaged yogurts and a small bag of nuts. I think the nuts were a serious error. That was a bad night once the Imodium wore off. I got no sleep. And the nuts - well, I will just leave it with the serious error comment.

The next day, I got up early to take a 'Backwater Thrills' tour. It was a boat up the Mandovi River to a spice plantation for a tour and lunch. I was mostly interested in the boat trip, I figured that there would be lots of birds on the river. What was I thinking, you ask, taking a many hour boat trip in my situation. The Imodium was doing its job, plus by then I was into the prescription stuff. They were at least holding things in check during the day. But I was so tired and dehydrated and hungry that I could barely keep my eyes open. Plus, there were no birds. I got one bird, a woolly necked stork, for the whole day. I fell asleep. then we arrived at the spice farm and had our tour. It wasn't as good as the one from the hotel in little Tibet. then lunch, standard group tour fair, which I could barely eat. I even missed the spice counter where I was at least going to buy some spices for Vivienne. (Sorry Vivienne). Back on the boat where I fell asleep again, this time in the sun. Nice forehead burn.

The river boat montage.

I was told to find the Santa Maria for the River Cruise. So I took this so I would have a picture of the boat I was on. But when we boarded we were led onto the boat and then off again, onto the next boat tied up on the other side. So this will have to do.

A ferry across the river.

There were hundreds of these boats. They collect sand from the bottom of the river by scooping it up in buckets attached to those long poles. You can tell that this boat is full by how low in the water it is.

Watching the boat dock.

Disembarking

A pond.

Egrets on th pond.

A water snake near my lunch table.

Our tour guide, Martin.

These are the rusty big sand boats that the rickety little sand boats empty into.

There were lots of these awful sites along the river. Another cog in the river stripping machine.

New day - Friday 6pm. I am now in Bangalore, killing time until Suresh shows up with my bag at 9 to drive me to the airport. Something is biting my foot! I hope it is an insect.

But back to Panjim. . After the boat returned to town, I just went to the hotel to sleep. I was so hungry and tired. Believe it or not, for all of my travels, I have never had to use Imodium before. Whatever was living in my gut was draining me (haha - in more ways than one! - remember, I share because I care). I was exhausted. And I just couldn't keep up with the food and water. I was starving but I couldn't eat. Not fun.

The next day was Saturday - CARNIVAL!! I think I posted that morning, I was not very coherent, I'm sure. I can't even remember where or what I ate but I managed something. Then I headed to the water for the big Carnival celebration. I got there early and sat on the river wall.

Sitting on the river wall. It was breezy.

I really wasn't too sure if the parade was on the road or on the water. It turns out it was the road. To get to the river wall, I had to scale a bit of barrier because they had blocked the entire sidewalk. I didn't even give this any thought.

Waiting for the parade

When I first arrived, not too many people. If you look closely, you can see the 'barriers' which were just make shift fences but high enough to be difficult to cross.

A Carnival poster.

The ferry arriving, there were so many people arriving.

The crowds starting to mass.

The vendors arrive and set up.

Eventually the street filled up with spectators and the parade started. It was insane. Huge paper mache heads and entire eco-systems recreated on flatbeds. I tried to take pictures but my batteries eventually died and I didn't have backups. Just as well, how many floats does one need.

The parade.

The most incredible thing about the parade (at least for me) was the dancing. There were tons of troupes of young people, men and women, dressed in sateen, doing synchronized dance numbers. 1st, we would never be able to convince that many young men to put on sateen (Purple!!) let alone show it off in front of 1000s of people. 2nd, the dance numbers were pretty elaborate and the parade route was long. But they were still dancing away and smiling to beat the band. The music was overwhelming.

The dancers.

These poor guys didn't even get to wear pants. They were supposed to represent 'farmers'. For some reason, at least in this parade, farmers don't wear pants. There were several instances of pantless farmers. Strange that all of the farmers I saw, out plowing their fields, were wearing pants. They must not have gotten the memo.

This isn't a very good indication of how enthusiastically these kids danced. But it's all I've got.

There were tons of people but the crowds were not too crushing, except up against the barriers. After 3 or so hours of the parade, I realized I might be pushing my luck. I also realized at some point that I was trapped on the wrong side of the road, away from the businesses, restaurants and the path to my hotel. There was a barrier on my side of the road, the other side of the road and people 5 deep against both of them. hmmmm? So I started to walk in one direction to see if I could find the end. Nope. Then I tried the other direction. This led me to the main intersection which was just a madhouse of people. It wasn't an emergency, but I was feeling abit worried, things could turn to emergency in a flash (intestinal emergency, not crowd gone berserk emergency). Eventually I found a weak spot in the barrier and I jumped it. But that left me in the road with the parade. People had started to enter the street and the only path was about as wide as a float so walking along was somewhat perilous. I can just see the headline: Canadian tourist killed in India by giant gorilla head float!! Subsequently trampled by sateen clad dance troupe!! Well, of course, eventually I made it out alive.

The crowds.

The best view going.

The other side of the street.

At least one person made it over (well, under more likely) the barrier, although she got caught by the cop.

Once I was on the safe side, I felt ok to stay a while longer but that parade was just never going to end so by 9 pm, I headed home. I had also noticed some people who were walking by who had been 'holi-ed' . Holi is a festival where they throw colours on you. I wasn't up for that.

I watched these kids when the parade got a bit too much. They seemed very poor and I never saw any evidence of adults with them.

Smelhi Delhi gave me a bad Belhi! Oh yeah, and the Taj Mahal

2010-02-17T05:41:00.000-08:00

For those not fluent in Indian languages - Smelly Delhi gave me an upset belly!

The next morning we were off to Bangalore where we stayed at the Hotel Sai Renaissance across from Baba's Ashram. I didn't visit.

Pictures from the road from Hampi to Bangalore

Traffic Jam - Goats

Traffic Jam - Cattle

The traffic cops stood in these little huts in the middle of the road wearing tiny white hats. I thought it made them look silly.

Our gas station attendant with 'assistants'.

A graveyard.

A typical safe highway driving example.

The trucks are all painted with awesome grafitti.

We spent an hour in an actual traffic jam. Those trucks really spew out the noxious exhaust.

The next morning, Suresh's brother who looks just like Suresh but isn't as charming, took us to the airport. I had bought our tickets on my visa so that was good. Again, I got in trouble at the airport. In India, any bag that goes through the security scanner is tagged and the tag is date stamped. Good, my bag was duly processed. But when I went to get on the plane, my purse hadn't been tagged OR stamped! I was removed from line and sent back to security. I just butted in line at that point as my flight was almost loaded and ready to go. They, of course, argued that I didn't need a stamp, I counterargued that I couldn't get on my plane without the stamp. Since a stamp takes 10 seconds I'm not sure why we had to have the 5 minute conversation about whether or not I needed a stamp when clearly I needed a stamp. Eventually, I was tagged, stamped and sent away. I made it onto the plane in time for our uneventful flight.

And then we were in Delhi. After beautiful sweet smelling South India where the people are nice and the drivers respectful, we were in Delhi. Grey, smelly, grimy, rude, life endangering Delhi. Small backtrack - while we were on the road with Suresh, we had tried to make a reservation in one of the Lonely Planet recommended hotels, Ginger. We called Ginger and the front desk guy said there was a room available but we would have to call the reservation line (Ginger is a chain with a central reservation office in Bombay). So we called the reservation line and the guy said 'no room' for the night we were arriving. Suresh spoke to him and he (the guy) was quite rude and then hung up on Suresh. Oh, did I mention that at this point Judy's phone wasn't working, so all of this was using Suresh's phone. When Suresh phoned back, the guy just hung up without even discussing. So we tried a couple of other places. Judy was having a nap by this time so I was left in charge (never a good idea). I couldn't get through to any of the many places that seemed ok. But Suresh as some magic ability to put out a call for available rooms. All of a sudden we were receiving calls from Delhi hotels offering us a room. We weren't really sure of the geography of Delhi and didn't know where we should stay. So one of the calls said they were close to the train station (which we planned to take to Agra) so I booked it. It was a little more than we had been paying but beggars can't be choosers.

So back to our arrival. As I mentioned before, we got a prepaid taxi and off we went to the Singh Continental Hotel in the Karol Bagh district. As we drove along, we realized Delhi is a hideous hole. Too harsh? Ok, Delhi is completely grey and every single street seems to be under construction. I believe that the Commonwealth Games are arriving this summer so they are desperately trying to get the place up to snuff for those visitors (apparently not the pre-games visitors who can just suck it). There are bits and pieces of the above ground Metro system, unattached to the other bits and pieces. And every intersection has another Metro pillar going up right in the middle of it. It was mayhem and chaos and crazy and just plain bad news. But we made it to the right district but then our taxi driver couldn't find the hotel. We found the Singh International and a million other hotels but not the one we had booked. Plus, the Karol Bagh district is even worse than the rest of Delhi, if you can believe it! We were not happy about the location of our hotel. There weren't even any shops around.

Our first views of Dehli in the cab from the airport.

Hideous

Hideous

Hideous

We finally found the hotel (the second worse hotel EVER) and went to our room. We signed in, gave our passport info but we didn't have to pay upfront. The room was not nice, it was just grubby. Judy was not happy and I agreed but I just couldn't see wandering around with our bags trying to find another place. But Judy took charge, thank god, and used the hotel room phone (since hers was still on the fritz) to call other hotels. But the phone didn't work. So we got a new phone. And the guy who brought it even kindly dialed the Ginger hotel number for us (I don't think he knew what he was doing or he likely wouldn't have been so helpful). The room at Ginger was still available and this time they let us book it (wisely, they made us pay with visa over the phone - take note Hotel Singh Continental). So we picked up our stuff and headed back to the lobby. I announced that we were not staying. Of course, there were 6 or 7 men hanging around the lobby as we were making our exit. I was actually worried one of them would try to physically stop us. But the desk clerk just told us it would be full charge even if we left. I tried not to laugh - good luck buddy! I gave him 100 Rupees for one consumed coffee and one phone call. He was not happy, he followed us out, yelling up the street but we just trucked it out of there, lugging all of our bags with us.

But now we have to get to Ginger. We thought it would be easy to grab a cab. But, strangely, taxis in India are not clearly marked. We expected to see autorickshaws but there were only bicycle rickshaws. We weren't sure where Ginger was but we assumed it was too far for that. Judy, always willing to talk to strangers, asked a couple of tea drinking cops where to find a cab. One of them took pity on us and walked up the street with us to find a taxi. I followed him to the middle of the block where he started talking to 6 guys sleeping in a car. I guess this was a taxi? They said $250R. What!!?? But at some point, Judy had stopped at the beginning of the block and had her own negotiations going on with a different group of taxi people. So, I went to that group. They wanted $300R! At some point, an autorickshaw came by but he said he didn't know where Ginger was and so he couldn't take us. He drove away. We tried to negotiate with the corner group but they wouldn't budge so we went back to middle of the block group. But now their price was $350R. WHAT!!!?? Back and forth, lugging our stuff in the blazing heat, cop in tow, laughing so hard that even the very serious strait faced cop started laughing too. Just as we were about to concede and take the last offer of $250R, the autorickshaw reappeared and announced that he could take us for $150R! We jumped in and the two competing taxi groups, by now about 20 people, were all yelling at us and each other by this point. The nice cop made sure the autorickshaw driver wasn't going to overcharge us after the fact by taking down the taxi licence number. And off we went, through the mean street of Delhi with just a doorless tin box between us and the maniacal drivers.

We arrived at the oasis of Ginger hotel just as it was getting dark. We love Ginger. It is very North American in its sensibilities. There is 24 hour internet, wireless internet, 24 hour restaurant, 24 hour pharmacy. The rooms are basic and clean with running water, a working shower (with curtain!) , toilet paper, towels and bless their souls - soap! They even offered an iron and ironing board and free filtered water. Free Filtered Water!! Sob. After the Singh Continental, we were so happy that we decided not to spend the night in Agra like we had talked about, but to stay at Ginger the next night too and just to go to Agra (the Taj Mahal) for the day on Monday.

Unfortunately, I didn't take any pictures of Singh Continental or Ginger.

Now, as I mentioned it was Sunday at this point. So we asked about how to book rail tickets to Agra for the next day. No problem says nice reception man. We have a travel desk - so convenient. ahem. The travel desk person will be back in 30 minutes. 30 minutes, 60 minutes, more, no travel desk guy. So Reception calls him. He says, over the phone, that they can't book anything on a Sunday. "But" I mention, 'we want to go to Agra in the morning and the train leaves at 6am'. Not possible. Ok, so we will go on Tuesday.

Monday morning we visit travel desk guy who talks to us between chit chats with 3 or 4 onlookers. I can never tell if the person helping me is slow or if the system they are working with is slow. I try to give the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, eventually we learn there are no train tickets available for Tuesday. Since we had to be back in Bangalore by Wednesday so Judy could catch her plane home on Thurs 3 am, we asked about taking a bus. Yes, (much time later) there is a bus available. But we have to go across town to get our tickets. What, exactly, is the point of a travel desk if not to book travel? Don't forget at this point, Judy still needs to find a Western Union because she couldn't go to one on a Sunday.

So, into another autorickshaw to the travel agency that has the tickets. Major traffic jam. So we got to really look at Delhi. It did not improve under closer inspection. We bought our tickets and we assured that a bus would pick us up at 6:30 am at our hotel the next morning. As I write this it all seems too obvious, but at this point, I was under the impression that we were booking a two hour bus ride to Agra where we would be dropped off and then picked up at the end of the day. Nuh huh. We were booked on a tour which included a TEN hour round trip - ON A BUS! I didn't realize this until about hour three of the trip to Agra. But we are getting ahead here.

Tickets in hand, we head out to find a Western Union. Big city, big company that is everywhere else in India, nowhere to be found in Delhi (another strike). Every time Judy asked where we could find one, we were led to a tourist shop that paid deliverers of tourists.

That little yellow sign is a Western Union sign. We kept going down random street following the yellow signs only to be told again, that the sign (even the filthiest, most decrepid sign) just went up yesterday and the Western Union 'machine' hadn't arrived yet. Yeah right.

Eventually some kind soul told us to go to the main post office. So, at 3 pm Monday, Judy finally had some cold hard cash. And so did I since she paid me for the stuff I had covered. Hallelujah.

Now we had our two missions for the day completed so we were free to do whatever we wanted. What we wanted was to visit the Red Fort. But, of course, all national museums etc. are closed on Mondays. Really. So we jumped on the Metro and just went. We took a train to a municipal garden but by the time we reached it, it was starting to get dark. So I said I didn't want to go and we turned around without even leaving the station. Back to the central shopping area, Connaught (sp?) Circle. Just as we were exiting the Metro station, it started to sprinkle. By the time we crossed the street, it was pouring. We nipped into a conveniently placed FabIndia where I bought a new kurta (but no matching pants).

But by now we were getting very hungry so we cut our FabIndia time short and went searching for a restaurant, not an easy task, as it turned out. There was a Wimpy's, a KFC, McDonalds etc but no real food for blocks. Eventually we found a place which was adequate. Eating with Suresh was better. Three people meant that we could order a dahl, a curry and a rice. Three portions. But take away one person (especially the one with the biggest appetite) and we were out of food whack. But we managed.

Just a few photos from our day in Delhi.

Judy on the Metro.

Oh, did I mention that Connaught Circle, major tourist area, had no (NO!) sidewalks. Every single one of them had been ripped up. So there we are in the downpour when I take a header - into the mud. I tore up my knee (I finally got to use my extensive first aid kit). Did I mention that I don't like Delhi. But troopers that we are, we carried on shopping. We stopped at one shop where I received my first inappropriate grope. Delhi, so many reasons to hate it. I was trying to buy a shirt and the store owner held it up to me to see if it would fit. I don't think the cupping was an accurate measure as it turned out to be too big. Perhaps he just had small hands and was unable to get an accurate gauge.

Soaking wet, soggy purchases in hand, we returned to Ginger.

6:50 am Tuesday morning - no pick up. Our bus to Agra was scheduled (haha) to leave at 7 am. So we head out into the dark, to catch a taxi to take us to the travel agents where the bus was parked. A mad ride, and I mean crazy, side of the wheel, hand on for dear life, mad dash, across town in an autorickshaw. For some reason Judy's phone had decided to start working so she called the travel agent and said that we were on our way, that our pick up hadn't showed up and would they please hold the bus. The woman on the other end said 'Bus leaves at 7!" We got there at 7:05 and of course, the bus was still there. Our 7am bus promptly left at 7:30.

As mentioned, our two hour bus ride turned out to be 5 hours, the travel agent hadn't explained that and to be fair, I hadn't asked because I thought it was two. After 4 hours and 45 minutes, we got a flat tire. I took this opportunity to call Chris and see how the cats were doing. Apparently fine (little ingrates, they could at least be sad I had disappeared). The tire changing required every single man on the bus to disembark to 'help'. But, after 30 minutes, a new bus arrived and took us the last 5 minutes to our first stop on our unexpected 'tour'.

A flat tire involves delving into the depths of the bus.

The dead tire and other random troubling parts!

The new bus arrives. Maybe it's just me, but that name did not instill confidence.

First stop - the Agra Fort. It was a fort (pictures will show its fortiness) . Again, I couldn't understand our tour guide. I was also transfixed by his wig which had bits of mesh sticking out of the 'hair'. He was kind of creepy and I tried to stay a safe distance although that distance never stayed as far as I wanted. I would turn around, and there he would be, wig jauntily askew.

Agra Fort.

The courtyard inside the fort.

Our guide (Centre, plaid shirt, polyester hair)

We got our first distant view of the Taj Mahal from the fort. You can see how smoggy it was. But even far away and obscured by soot, it was breathtaking. Sorry, be prepared for a lot of Taj Mahal photos!! You know, when I was there, I couldn't really appreciate it but looking at the pictures makes me want to cry, it was so amazing. Definitely one of those life experiences that has to be experienced at least once.

Next stop was to a factory and by chance, an attached store to buy the factory examples. Judy bought a lovely marble Buddha and another not pure silk Sari, which I think will be a gift for someone. Then we hit Costa Coffee which is the north Indian version of Starbucks (Coffee Day is the south Indian version). Our mushroom cheese toasted sandwich hit the spot and so did our lattes. Back on the bus. But now we are running out of time. We get to the Taj Mahal but we only have 60 minutes before we have to be back on the bus at 4:30.

So we get into line, a long line, to enter the gates. The most amusing part of the day for me was that there was a fight at the security gate. Any major monument has a metal detector and/or a pat down. The effectiveness of these security measures are questionable. For instance when we went to the glass house in Bangalore, I had a metal water bottle in my bag, it set the metal detector off. So the guard made me open my bag. Once I got the locked bag open, I had to interrupt her conversation to get her to check my bag. She just waved a wand over bag without actually breaking eye contact with her friend. The water bottle made the metal detector wand scream in protest but she didn't even turn around. So I just left and went in. But apparently, the Taj is a different story. Judy and I were too short to see what was going on but we could hear women yelling. There were things being tossed from the check area into a garbage can nearby. Then the security booth started swaying and the yelling increased. And our line stopped moving. After an amusing 5 minutes where the English speakers in our area speculated on what was going on, we reached the booth where we allowed to enter, yelling free.

The entrance gate.

The line up to get through the gate. Not the security lineup though.

Coming through the gate - get ready.

TA DAAA!! First view is incredible.

Second view - a bazillion people.

At some point, Judy had picked up a friend from the bus. Oh, did I mention that we were the only white people on the bus. There were lots of Indian families with babies, one of whom did not like riding on the bus - she didn't like it for the whole 10 hours. The trip had started out with two Australians but after our questionable breakfast stop, they disappeared. Maybe they called a cab and left the party?? But as it turned out, one of the 'Indian' men turned out to be a Saudi born plastic surgeon from Toronto named Mo (short for Mohammed). He was in India with Operation Smile. We travelled as a threesome once we got to the Taj Mahal. He was a nice guy. There was a lot of using each other's cameras to take each other's pictures so our own photo would be on our own camera.

The Taj Mahal. Really, what can I add to the millions of descriptions that you have already read or possibly even written. It is beautiful, huge, packed with people and hot as bloody hades. Lots of photos. Some ducks on the river out back.

Not very original. But what are ya gonna do.

Yup. Gorgeous. All White Marble.

The Mosque to the left (or the other mirror building to the left that was built for symmetry)

So much white marble.

The view of the gate from the entrance to the actual monument.

Then I went inside. It isn't very big when you are in it. It is basically one big room holding two crypts and lots of carved and inlaid marble. There are a few small rooms on the corners with marble carved screens. The walls had designs inlaid in semi-precious stones. The work that went into this place was incredible.

The entrance. That honeycomb is carved marble. The flowers and the script are inlaid jewels.

Detail of the walls. This is everywhere.

A bit of history. In 1631 the emperor Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal in memory of his wife Mumtaz, who died in childbirth. However once it was completed, the Shaw's son staged a coup and imprisoned his father in the Agra Fort. He spent the rest of his days looking at his wife's mausoleum from his prison. After the Shaw died, he was finally laid to rest beside his beloved Mumtaz for eternity.

Marble 'lace' hiding the marble inlaid coffins, you can see them in the background.

The coffins.

View of the Entrance Gate from inside the Taj Mahal.

Judy and Mo exiting the mausoleum.

A quiet moment

View of the river at the back of the Taj.

Ducks!!!

A Rose Ringed Parakeet.

A frantic rush through to get back to the bus by 4:30. We were only slightly late. The last passenger arrived at the bus promptly at 5:20.

A last over the shoulder shot as we left the grounds.

The sun sets on the Taj.

Ok, we were rushing but we still stopped for tea. We're not savages.

Mo and his Mini Taj Mahal Souvenir bought through the bus door.

How are we ever going to get out of here? We just drove through, I think everyone managed to get out of the way.

Maybe because this little hidden Ganesh was protecting them from our looming bus.

Five long hours back with a very very bad Bollywood movie (not in English). We arrived back in Delhi at 11:30 when we drove by Ginger. Judy jumped up and asked if we could be let off there, in the street. Sure, why not. So we get out, Ginger no longer in sight, with our stuff, in the dark, in Delhi. But, fortunately, Judy does not have my navigation skills so she managed to wander past the passed out (I hope) men, the pools of urine and vomit, the wandering packs of dogs, past the massive construction zone and got us to the hotel.

Next morning we headed to the airport to leave lovely Delhi. I had booked Judy's flight to Bangalore at 9:30 and my flight to Goa at 12:30. I went with Judy because I knew that the credit card used to purchase a ticket had to be presented at check in. so up we go to the nice lady at IndiGo. Umm, it seems that because the card name and ticket name didn't match, Judy's ticket had been cancelled. This didn't happen the previous time because I had purchased both of our tickets on one charge. So to the supervisor's desk. I think Judy may have actually lost her cool here, just slightly. I knew when a man tried to cut in while Judy was talking to the supervisor and she told him to get back in line! It was her turn and he could just wait (damn it - she didn't say damn it but it was clearly implied). Anyway. A new ticket was issued and cash was paid and all turned out ok. We rushed through security because Judy's plane was about to board. She got through and then the machine died with my stuff inside so we had a quick hug and good bye and Judy was gone. I was now alone, with my bag held hostage by a scanner.

Eventually, my bag was extricated and duly tagged and stamped. I had three hours to kill which was when I discovered Delhi's last loving gift to me, the trots. Stupid Delhi. Did I mention I don't like Delhi.

It is now 9:23 pm and I believe my internet place closed at 9. Maybe when the clerk offered me cookies while he had his tea was a hint. I guess I will leave Goa until next time, although I am running out of time, I leave India in just a few days. Aaack, I had a vision of myself behind the drop in desk at work the other day.

Some more random photos.

Hampi - the very most beautiful place I have ever seen.

2010-02-15T11:12:00.000-08:00

Hampi is a World Heritage site. It is incredibly beautiful. There are ruins of a city of 500 000 set in the most stunning landscape of volcanic rock formations. I highly recommend a visit. After the first morning on the computer and the whole Hyperwallet fiasco, I was still stunned when we crested the hill behind the temple and saw the ruins - breathtaking. Again, my lack of writing skills comes to a head here so you will have to wait for the pictures. Now that I have seen the pictures, they do not do justice but will have to do until you visit yourself.

If you remember, Suresh and Judy went into the temple for a 'few minutes' and then didn't come back for over an hour. I had lots of time to soak in the Hamp vibe and take pictures.

Waiting for Suresh and Judy outside of the temple. I whined about the wait but I see that I enjoyed my time alone. There were so many beautiful things to look at (including the people).

Banana sellers.

More cows.

This guy wanted me to give him 500 rupees for this picture. Umm, not going to happen. I think I finally gave him 20 just to make him go away.

Shoes outside the temple entrance.

Temple gate, you can see the temple in the back.

Just walking by.

Sweeping the street and keeping things tidy.

The brown cow in the front was the one that made friends with me. Then he left me for his white cow buddy. We all need a contrasting friend.

Buying bananas to take into the Temple.

Hello.

I did manage a bit of shopping though so I will tell you about that. Judy and Suresh had to go back to the hotel so I was left on my own for an hour. I found an art shop where I bought three small paintings, the only non-hindu related art I have seen here. Very excited. Plus, there was a jewelery making shop where I found some beads for Amy. That was a very amusing half hour haggling over the tiniest handful of silver beads. I even got tea. And, of course, the price I wanted. I also looked at these cool brass bowls that sing when you run a wooden wand around their rim. It was very simple and hand made and I liked it so I asked the price. 600 rupees. Since I didn't have Suresh there to tell me if this was a good price, I decided to go back later. When I did, Suresh in tow, a man was there instead of the older woman I had spoken to. When I asked about the bowl, he told me it was 2800R. When I said that the woman had told me 600, he ran out of the store yelling MAMA MAMA. I think I got Mama in trouble. But he gave it to me for 600R. I didn't bother to haggle at that point.

Wandering around Hampi village on my own, shopping and taking pictures. You can start to see the amazing geography of the region.

The river to the right.

The river to the left.

Shopping in Hampi. These are from that day and the next evening when I was shopping with Judy.

Street Vendor. Those colourful lumps are coloured powder.

A purse 'store'.

Judy clothes shopping.

Displying carpets for sale.

More purses.

Yikes!! Which one (or ten) do I want??

I want that one, no the one beside that one, no not the purple one.

Lamp shades in Whoville.

the negotiations.

Stone figures, 20 deep.

That evening, this was what we saw as we came up over the rocks. You can see why I was stunned by the beauty.

the ruins around the ancient temple.

The Temple.

The sun started to set while we were there.

Aren't they cute, those skinny knees were just too much.

That is a monkey at the base of that rock.

I fed some of my left over pizza to a very skinny puppy and he followed us around for an hour or so. Him plus the cow that made friends with me while I waited the hour outside the temple the previous day, I may be coming home with a menagerie.

My puppy. He spotted me from across the rocks.

Then he was there at my feet in an instant. Check out those ribs. I had to give him my left overs. He was so cute with that floppy ear and curly tail.

View of Hampi Village from the ruins above.

The sun setting that first evening at the Hampi ruins.

Time to leave.

Next day in Hampi was more ruins, more gorgeous scenery.

The most intricate water tank in the King's court

Just before I got yelled at and kicked out of the pool.

Aquaducts ran all over, from pool to pool.

the Lotus Palace.

The Elephant Stables.

Boys

The elephant's view from his stable.

Everybody tries to find shade.

Judy created her own shade.

this picture shows how big those stables are.

The remains of the market place. Each pillar was a stall.

The famous stone carriage. Apparently, those wheels actually used to turn and the carriage was pulled by elephants. Cool.

These pillars make different musical notes when you hit them and when the wind whips through them.

Plum Headed Parakeets.

The sun starts to set on our last day at Hampi.

I just reread my post. I really shafted poor Hampi, it really is worth a whole post. I will put lots of pictures to make up for my neglect. However, I will mention that when we were in the King's Balance Palace it was approaching dusk. There were a couple of tour groups there, one from Europe and one from Toronto. They were trying to get the powers that be to let us stay after dark and for the lights to be turned on. While we were waiting to see if we could stay, I saw two excellent birds, an owlet and a very lovey pair of plum-headed parakeets. After 45 minutes or so, sun sets and the palace was lit up for our touristy benefit! It was beyond amazingly beautiful.

After the sun set, they turned the lights on in the ruins. Very beautiful and super creepy/awesome.

The Owlette that arrived at sunset.

Lights on.

The carriage lit up.

Our last evening there, we went to a famous Hampi restaurant, the Mango Tree. It overlooks the river. The seating arrangement is very cool. It is outside and the tables are set up like stadium seats, each one below the one above, seats only on the view side. Every seat overlooks the beautiful view, all below the massive mango tree that creates a 'roof'. Of course, we were there at night so no view. And something peed on us (and possibly our plates) from above in the tree. But since it was dark, I just ate my meal anyway. Judy almost got pooped on too. It made for an exciting meal. The food was good too.

I took a picture of the sign but none of the actual restaurant. too bad, it was impressive.

Yikes, closing up. next day we drove all day to Bangalore to make our flight to Delhi the next morning. Delhi definitely needs its own post.

Little Tibet, Hassan and the finale to the Sari Affair.

2010-02-12T22:53:00.000-08:00

Still in Goa. It has been a rough couple of days. Did you know that Imodium only stops delivery, not production? 'Nough said (again). Anyway, I am into the hard stuff, the doctor prescribed stuff - only for emergencies stuff. I think being in Goa and not able to Goa out (haha) is an emergency! I want to get this thing up to date but I got a late start and it is Carnival today which starts in a couple of hours and I haven't eaten in over 24 hours so I don't think I will catch up today. Plus, this is exciting, you may want to grasp something to steady yourselves, I am going to bird camp tomorrow for three days!!!!! It is called Backwoods Camp (is it just me or does that sound like the start of a teen horror slasher movie). But that means out of contact until Tuesday or Wednesday. It is now Saturday at 12:30 pm.

I will try to speed things up here because nothing too outrageous or hilarious happened for the next few days. We finally arrived at the farm guesthouse at about 7 pm. Because we were late, even though we called, they had given our veranda room away to some Bostonians. They gave us a room off of their living room and told us it would be just like we were family. Family indeed, our bathroom was off the dining room! We were kind of choked, especially when they told us it was the same price. The husband was super annoying that evening, we went out to dinner and for some reason he felt the need to lead us to the restaurant. Once we arrived, he kept telling us if the price of the room wasn't ok, we could go somewhere else where it would be more expensive but he kept smiling while he was doing it. Plus, they wouldn't give Suresh a place to sleep, but they wouldn't tell us that, they just kept saying how he would be ok. Fortunately, he didn't stay for dinner.

The garden and pool at the farm.

Farm puppies. They weren't always tied up.

The stairs to the upper veranda room. Looks nice eh? I guess we'll never know.

Let me go back to drivers and their sleeping arrangements. Technically, they are responsible for their own rooms, finding, paying etc. However, as I mentioned, we had come to think of Suresh as more than our driver, he was now our friend. Some hotels offer driver rooms for free. Other times, Suresh has found his own cubby hole. It turns out when we had our cabin at Bandipur, he ended up sleeping in the car.

Anyway, I was tired and hungry and didn't like the man who ran the farm so I was not happy. But without too many choices and with Suresh assuring us that we should not worry about him, his job was to make sure we were comfortable and he would take care of himself. He also said that the couple were good people and that we should stay there. ok. So we stayed. Another quick side note. Judy had finally assembled all of the pieces for her Sari but, obviously, she couldn't try it out in Hunusur. Our room was way too small here to try it on so again, it had to wait for another day.

The next morning, with some sleep and some food, I had a better perspective on the whole Suresh and sleeping arrangements business. The price he charges per day includes his food and room. In our case, Judy always paid for his food when he ate with us, which was pretty much always. So unless I was willing to pay double to house myself AND him, I can't really blame the hotel folks. Plus, Suresh could always get his own room, technically he is fee covers that, but he chooses to sleep in his car occasionally to save money. It was painful, but I managed to justify my comfy bed (at least in my own mind - probably only temporarily).

So we didn't have the terrace room but we were really there for sleep. We had visited the Golden Temple the previous evening. The Golden Temple is a Buddhist Temple in this unnamed town that was inhabited by Tibetan refugees. When they arrived in the 50s, the Indian Gov't gave them land and money and they are pretty well set. The Temple is huge - and Gold. There are monks everywhere. Again, I suck at taking pictures of people and I particularly suck at taking pictures of people worshipping. So few photos. When we got to the temple, it was open but nothing was happening. No (stuck for word here - I guess Mass is wrong) event (event? - not much better than Mass).

Going to the Golden Temple, bare feet again.

The Golden Buddha, hidden behind a screen, which if you went to the back of the temple and lean over a barrier, you can take a picture of - just.

All of the temple walls are covered in murals.

Mural detail.

There were other giant golden statues beside the Buddha which weren't hidden. This is one of them.

I am jumping around here, sorry, no time to properly edit. Back to the morning. Mrs farm lady, whose name is in Lonely Planet, that section long ago ditched, asked us if we wanted breakfast. We were sitting on the very lovely downstairs deck (not the much more very lovely upper veranda) and eager to sit and enjoy our coffee and toast. But when breakfast was ready, we were ushered back into the dining room, with no windows and a view of the bathroom, to eat. Insult on injury, we could here Suresh out on the deck being served his breakfast. I assume that we were the special guests so we got to eat where the family ate and Suresh, the servant, had to eat outside. hrrumph.

After breakfast, Judy had to pack. Have I mentioned Judy's bags. She was travelling with one big bag and one shopping type bag. She had left two bags with Suresh to pick up back in Bangalore. Anyway, the shopping bag was a wonder. Out would come trays and cups and who knows what all so that in an instant, her bathroom needs were comfortably available. It was a wonder of efficiency on arrival, not so much on departure. So after breakfast, I was just hanging around while Judy packed up, when the owner was about to show Suresh the farm. So I tagged along. Well it turns out to be a coffee farm!! (Yes, Nikki, I got you a pound of coffee, it was hard to convince them that I wanted 'seeds' and not 'powder'.) But not just a coffee farm, it had everything. I love farms in other countries. Here I wrote a list: avocados, jackfruit, sapota (?), mango, papaya, banana, coconut, betel nut, coffee, cinnamon, cardamon, allspice, vanilla, rice, ginger, vegetables, several types of oranges, lemons and limes, rosewood, teakwood and silverhook wood. Every inch was used to its fullest.

Our downstairs deck where Suresh had his breakfast.

The owner showing off his farm. This is the rice paddy.

Farm guy showing off his coffee.

Papaya

pepper

As we left the farm.

Tibetan prayer flags hang from everywhere here.

Another visit to the Temple, still nothing too much going on. I'm sure Judy must have been disappointed not to see an 'event' with the bells and monks and whatnot. A bit of shopping and off we went to Hassan.

Our visit to the Temple in the morning meant I could take pictures of the outside. This is the entrance.

The Temple from the entrance gate.

Prayer candles.

Random posing children. Check out the awesome outfits.

A monk at the alter.

Wandering around the Temple grounds

A novice monk having a nap on the lawn.

Ummm, maybe it`s because they are behind the sign.

Young monks playing cricket.

Me in front of the Temple.

My notes are sort of unclear here so this is likely in the wrong order. My photos tell me that we stopped at a Jain temple next. It is known for the massive statue at the top of the mountain. But you have to go up 650 stone steps and because it is a temple, no shoes allowed. It was getting on in the day so I declined the climb. Judy was up for it though. But first she and Suresh tried to hire some men to carry Judy up. Apparently, this is what the rich and weak do. But they were just about to close the gate for the night so there weren`t four men available to man the four corners of the basket. So Judy and Suresh made the climb. I hung out at the bottom where I could keep my shoes on.

The mountain Jain temple. You can see the massive stature over the top of the wall.

Judy waiting while they try to round up four men to carry her to the top.

Not enough carriers so Judy gets ready to climb. They were the only ones on the stairs because it was about to close.

But then all of a sudden tons of people arrived and started runnning up the stairs.

Since I stayed at the bottom, I did a bit of sightseeing. Plus I spent some time haggling over postcards.

We stayed at a very nice hotel. Hassan's claim to fame is that it is near to two ancient temples with intricate carvings. The first temple was Belur (Suresh called it Chennakeshawa) with carvings of dancing women. We hired a guide here who I couldn't understand a word he said but he did keep yelling at us to move there or come here. Plus, there was this odd man who just joined us and is in almost all of my pictures. You will have to wait for pictures of this temple and the next one, Halibib, also carved but much more broken.

Entrance to Belur

Outside detail.

Dancing statue.

Actual worshippers, not just lookie-loos like us.

It`s blurry but here is Judy, our guide and Suresh with our crasher in the background.

Outside the Temple

Elephant detail completely circled the compound.

The Courtyard, these stones were sooooo hot (and of course, we were in barefeet.)

Just an excuse to take a pretty picture of a woman in a pretty sari.

More women in colourful saris.

Suresh taking Judy`s picture (and some freakin` amazing architecture under them.)

The next temple, Halebidu (Halebib)

Take our picture

Here`s the rest of the family, take their picture too.

Detail. The builders of these places had a lot of ambition (and apparently, time on their hands.)

Just a random photo from outside Halebib. I like the way it looks like it is on fabric. My camera isn`t so good taking pictures from a moving vehicle at night.

That night, we were finally in a nice place so the 'Big Sari Unveiling' began. Judy had been a given basic idea of how it all worked. By the time we arrived back at the hotel, it was too late to find a lady to help so we were on our own. But, after many attempts and reattempts with the non-pure-silk sari, we got it on and it looked pretty good. Then I tried it on while Judy graduated to the silk one. Then Suresh was beckoned and he took our pictures so that we could prove that we could put on a Sari! I must say, Judy looks great in her pure silk sari. Me- not so much. Wait for the pictures and you can decide.

Judy in her sari and me in my burgandy kurta and pant set from FabIndia.

I only have 15 minutes till this place closes so I will try to whip through Hampi. After Hassan, we headed to Hampi which was a full day drive away. There was lots of road birding and we managed a flat tire. Lunch was uneventful although I got to use the kitchen bathroom. Never use the kitchen bathroom!.

Some images from the road between Hassan and Hampi.

Judy taking advantage of nature's bathroom.

Suresh fixes the flat tire.

Ok, while uploading my pictures, I realized I was correct and have given Hampi it's own post.

Finally - the hotel from hell!

2010-02-11T02:06:00.000-08:00

Pre-warning - I am in Goa but Delhi has left it's grubby mark on me that only Imodium will remove. So I may have to stop before I am finished. It is Feb 11 (my birthday) at 3:30 pm.

Ok, before I start I have to say more about FabIndia. This place has western clothing (which is what we would buy at an Indian clothing store in the west) and Indian clothes (which we can't buy in the west). It also has housewares, decorations and jewelery. I love FabIndia!!! As I mentioned, I bought two outfits but that does not do justice to my purchases. I bought two Kurtas (I may have that name wrong but they are long shirts/dresses that go to the knees) and two pairs of complimentary pants. One set was a top with white and Burgundy pattern and Burgundy pants. However, the second set is spectacular. Saffron pants and a purple top with gold trim! It looks great. You will get to know these outfits as they are in practically every picture. The outfits that Judy got for me were beautiful but neither one of them had pants that fit properly (keep the comments to a minimum here!). But the pants at FabIndia are the best. Why? Because I bought extra small (extra SMALL, no you don't understand - EXTRA small!) size pants. I am moving here. I don't have many pictures of myself so I will have to wait for Judy's pictures to show you my outfits.

Ok, back to the road. Last we left Bandipur and passed through Mysore to get to Nagarahole National Park. As I mentioned, Nagarahole did not have any available cabins so we were just going to go for the morning to do a safari or two and then head out. So Suresh suggested that we stay in Hunusur, the closest town to the entrance to the park - which opened at 6 am. He had never been to Hunusur but he figured it would be ok. ahem. Not ok, very not ok. We arrived in Hunusure at dusk. Suresh stops and asks about a place to stay. The men on the street suggest that there are only two hotels. We go to the first one. We didn't even go in. There were filthy rugs hanging in the 'lobby' to create rooms around the parked motorcycle. Second hotel up the street must have had more than a hundred bikes parked out front. Yup, biker bar on the first floor, hotel on the second. Suresh wouldn't even go in. He said we would sleep in the car before he let us go there.

The first scary hotel.

In front of the second scary hotel

More asking of random men on the street (we knew it was bad because there were NO women on the street). It seems there was a third hotel. Off we went, it was on the main drag. By now it is getting dark. I can't remember the name although I have a photo. It was over a restaurant so that was an improvement. We went up the very dark staircase, into the very cement and dusty hallway/storage area.

The third hotel - juuuust right. Well, just not as bad, but still very bad.

The hallway outside of our room. You know it's going to be good when the entrance is this fancy.

the view from the veranda (haha - actually the outside hallway)

Outside - the wild west feel was too much.

Into the room. Pictures will not do justice to this room. The double bed, grungy would be kind. The bathroom. Oh, the bathroom!

The bathroom: view 1

Anyway, creepy hotelier was happy to give it to us for 500 Rupees for the night. We looked at another room too which had a western toilet but believe it or not, it was actually worse than the squat toilet bathroom. So we took it. Then we negotiated 250R for the next room for Suresh, who would normally find his own place but we wanted him to be at screaming distance. The manager asked for our photo and proceeded to put his arms around us. SOOOOO not acceptable here. That scared us even more.

Our creepy host.

But, stuck as we were, we paid for the room, the manager assured us that his assistant who had been hanging around would bring fresh bedding. He was dispatched to, apparently, the only place that held something 'fresh' in the whole town. As soon as we had paid, I mean within seconds of money changing hands, the power went out. (Maybe the assistant cut the connection??? I just thought of that). Manager man brought us candles which he stuck dead centre of the only table which forced us to put our stuff on the floor. (Judy ended up with an ant infestation in her bathroom bag the next morning) Ok. We can deal with this. Judy and I, of course, by now, were pretty close to hysterical. Poor Suresh, he never knew when we would burst into uncontrolled laughter. After the inappropriate photo op, the manager left with assurances that the assistant would come back with the sheets (he never did) but we were never planning to get under those covers anyway. Thankfully, we both had brought the silk sheet liners so we got those out and got ready for bed.

I was the first to use the bathroom. I go to wash my hands in the sink. As I am standing there, with my little flashlight in my teeth (thank you, Alisma!) I feel something on my flip flopped feet. It seems the drain of the sink is just a hose that isn't actually attached to anything. So the water was just pouring onto my feet! More gales of laughter. When I brushed my teeth I just spit onto the bathroom floor, it probably made the floor cleaner!

The bathroom: view 2.

While Judy was in there, I got into bed. Ok, we have all slept in beds that are squeaky or make a bit of noise but this was a whole new dimension. First, the bed would groan, loudly. Then the groan would be immediately followed by a loud CRACK, much like a gunshot. And this happened every time (EVERY TIME!) I moved. It was not a restful sleep. At one point in the night, I woke up and Judy was sitting up, shaking with laughter. I had woken her up, yet again, by shifting in my sleep and setting off the bed/gun. Judy said when we woke up in the morning that she was having a nightmare that the pillow had come out of the silk sheet and she was sleeping directly on it. That would be a nightmare.

Fortunately, we had to get up at 4 am to get to Nagarahole by 6. So our night was short. I actually had a 'shower' in the morning, I felt to grubby, much to Judy's amazement. She couldn't believe I would spend more than the absolute minimum time in that bathroom. But I figured that the gigantic cockroach that was in there in the morning, needed some new dead skin follicles to live off of for the next few weeks until the next victims (oops, I meant visitors) arrived. Oh yeah, one last note before we peel out of Hunusur. There was a lock on the outside of our door, which we joked they were going to use to make us there white slaves. Haha, good joke. When we got up in the morning, our room door was not locked but when we went down the stairs, the door out of the hotel was deadbolted! I don't think we laughed at that point. Anyway, Suresh went and found someone on the right side of the locked door who had a key and let us out. Goodbye Hunusur!! (or as Judy named it 'Inasewer')Poor Suresh, I think he was horrified that he had put us in this place. He kept apologizing. But, as you all know, if it makes a good story, it is worth it.

We got to the Nagarahole gate by 6 am, and it promptly opened 20 minutes later. Once we got into the park, we only had the stamina for one 'safari' bus ride. No time to charm the bus driver this time so I had to ID my own birds. No elephants here but there was some wild buffalo on the way in. We saw the spotted deer, a few barking deer which look like dikdiks (wee), more wild dogs and some birds. It was so long ago, I don't remember which ones (they're in the book though). Oh wait, there was a crazy drongo with a awesome tail and a barbet or two. I'm not sure if it was worth the night in Hunusur, I know Judy doesn't think so since she slept through much of the bus ride.

The sun comes up in the forest.

A wild Buffalo.

A samba deer in the park while we waited for our safari.

Judy sleeping on the bus.

Mailing my postcards from the park to get the cool cancel mark.

Wait, back up a bit. We were planning to visit Little Tibet before Nagarahole which Judy was very excited about. She being a follower of the Buddha. But on our way from Bandipur, Judy was reading the Lonely Planet book and saw that there was a place to stay on a farm that had a 'veranda room' which was near the Golden Temple. We had been planning to visit Little Tibet (which has a real name but I didn't write it down) on the way to Nagarhole but when we called the farm (have I mentioned how excellent having a phone is) the veranda room was booked for the night we wanted, but was available for the next night. Again, we changed Suresh's well planned schedule (after the park business, I think he may have given up on it anyway). We booked and decided to go there after the Nagarahole. So we left the park by noon and headed to Little Tibet.

Leaving the park

A Giant Squirrel. They were big but they have very cute faces.

A domestic elephant near the village just outside of the park. Notice that he has been painted.

Then we came across this structure which I recognized was an elephant 'crushing' pen. We learned about those in Thailand and it is not nice.

Then we came across this poor fellow, chained up.

Haha, you didn't think we would go straight there did you? Silly reader - there was a temple on the way. We were in the mountains by now (geography of the region??). We stopped at a very boring temple, in my now temple-experienced opinion. It was new and modern (for a temple). But Suresh said there was a waterfall behind it (side question: why doesn't anyone put the parking lot for the waterfall at the TOP of the hill?) Up we went, at the hottest time of the day. At least we could wear shoes. It was actually a very beautiful walk up and we looked spry compared to the old Indian ladies in full Sari (ok, not spry, but we kept up to most of them - ok, some of them).

The river before the ascent.

Ladies crossing the river.

Some women who passed us on the stairs.

Our first view of the waterfall.

Getting closer.

The staircase wasn't too too strenuous and we made it to the top to a gorgeous waterfall full of worshippers. (remember back to the river I mentioned before with the ritual bathing. The waterfall was like that but looked much cleaner.) There was lots of boys and young men in underpants right under the falls. The ladies were sticking to the slow moving pool off to the side.

Arriving at the top.

A tentative dip on the edge.

Heading in.

In we went, fully clothed. Just up to our legs. One of the old ladies chastised me for wearing my shoes, I hadn't realized this was still 'temple' so I had to get out because there was no way I was going onto the jagged rocks barefooted.

Judy in the pool.

It was colder than it looked.

Judy goes to the men's pool.

Anyway, it was all good fun, the locals were really enjoying their outing.

Once they were in, it was a free for all.

The men.

Is splashing each other part of the worshipping?

Once we were back on the stairs down, we got to take pictures of pretty much everyone and they in turn, took our picture. We are part of many family portraits that day. Then off to Sri Kalpa farm at little Tibet. Which I will save for the next post. The air outside seems to be cooler and the Imodium seems to be holding - wish me luck!!

Some pictues from the road.
Girls (and one boy)

The boy without the girls.

Working in the field.

Pointsettas grow wild here, this one was on the side of the road.

I promise - more is coming

2010-02-09T17:46:00.000-08:00

AAA, I am having the hardest time getting to post. the previous two about Suresh and Judy I wrote on Judy's computer and sent to myself which is why I managed those. I won't even go into this morning's internet fiasco because I only have a few minutes. I am leaving Delhi (none too soon) and heading to Goa - where I assume that there is at least one functioning computer WITH internet. I am sooooo far behind!!!!

Judy in the sky with no diamonds

2010-02-09T17:33:00.000-08:00

Judy and her money troubles – with a dash of India thrown in to complicate matters even more.

Wayyyy back when Judy and I were at the Indian Consulate in Vancouver, we met a young man (I think I mentioned this, the Tibetan Indian with the doctor sister) who told Judy that Credit Union bank cards don’t work in India. So before she left, Judy opened a Scotiabank account so that she could access her money. However, when she opened the account and set up her pin# she was only given the choice to make it 5 digits. Not being the ultra savvy traveler such as me (haha – I think this blog proves the opposite but I digress), Judy didn’t realize the disastrousness of that fifth digit. So she hasn’t been able to withdraw any money from an ATM since she arrived. But being industrious (and a self declared ‘jewelry slut’) she figured out how to get money. She met a jewelry seller in the market in Puttaparthi (where she was staying with Priscilla) who would sell her something sparkly using her visa card. But he would charge more to Visa and give her the difference at a very reasonable charge. It was all working so well. Judy got money AND a huge jewelry collection. But on her last night in Puttaparthi, just before leaving for the airport to pick me up, she went for one last visit to Baba’s ashram. I guess there was a big, tightly packed crowd kneeling before Baba when the person behind Judy, opened her purse and took her money (only a couple hundred rupees) AND her Visa card!!! She doubts that the person even tried to use the card, it was just in with the money. But it meant that Judy now had no access to money. She called Visa to cancel the card and they said Visa International could send her a new card within 48 hours but Judy wasn’t going to be returning to Priscilla’s so she didn’t have anywhere to have to card sent. But it is okay because, again, she is a smart cookie.

Scotiabank has a link right on her internet banking page to send cash anywhere in the world!! Perfect, so she sent herself money via Western Union. That lasted for the first week. But now new problems. Only a week from the end of her trip, her Scotia account was basically drained. Her real cash was in her credit union account, which does not have a nice Western Union Button on their website. This tale again reminds me why I use the evil conglomerate of the big bank.

I don’t know if I mentioned that Judy bought a cell phone to use while in India (which is so brilliantly handy that I am basically ruined for easy travelling). So while on a long stretch of drive (on the way to Hampi – we aren’t there yet in the blog) Suresh said that Judy should have her Visa Card sent to his house so that she would have it when we went to Delhi. Excellent Plan! Of course, you being the intelligent audience that you are, you realize that nothing is easy in India. But at that point, we went with it.

Judy called Scotia Bank call centre (as it turns out it is in Vancouver – irony anyone?) She spoke to Calem. He was very nice but the new card had to be ordered through Visa International. Now keep in mind, Judy is calling from the car on the road, driving through the country side so her conversation was regularly interrupted with horn blasts, cow avoiding swerves and general mayhem. I’m sure Calem is still talking about Judy in the Scotia Visa break room.

Calem gave Judy the Visa International phone number for India. So far, so good. Judy hangs up and tries the number. It doesn’t work. Calls Calem back who assures her it is correct. Calls the number again, still nothing. Tries Suresh’s phone which has better range. Zip. Calls Calem back. Calem asks around, no additional info from his end. Judy hangs up. I suggest we attempt variations on the number. We guess that perhaps the India Visa International office is in Bombay so we try calling with that city code. We try all the codes of major cities. Suresh calls some info line to see if they know how to get through. Nope .

So I get Judy to call Calem back and I take the phone. I am pissed that this is so freaking complicated. I say to Calem that the number is not accessible and that he has to patch us through. Duh!! Oh, what a good idea. ARRRGG. So he calls Visa International and I put Judy back on the phone. He and Judy and the Visa International lady have a bit of a confab where I think Calem had to explain how this all works to the lady. But all is going well. Calem hangs up and leaves Judy on the line with Visa International lady. Judy is ready with Suresh’s address and her visa info etc. Just as she is getting started she interrupts Visa lady and says, ‘please give me a contact number where I can reach you, the number I have doesn’t work’ when (of course) the phone cuts out. At this point, we had been working on this for about two hours. So that was it, neither of us could face calling Calem back. So new Visa plan – a no go.

Next day, new plan. I would show Judy how to set up a Bank to Bank transfer so she could get money from her credit union account to her Scotia Bank account so she could use Western Union. So, there we are in incredible Hampi, World Heritage site (blog to follow eventually) in an internet place (which didn’t even have coffee!!!) trying to somehow get money out of the credit union. They don’t have a transfer system (I love you Royal Bank!). If you want to get money out of this cursed Credit Union, you have to set up a HyperWallet account. Now remember we are in a hole in the wall internet place (where if you recall that morning a monkey had invaded) where I believe security to be absolutely non-existent. But Judy sets up a HyperWallet account and deposits $1000. Great. The site made it sound so easy (you would think I would learn). They said you can send money to anyone with an email account. So Judy, logically, tries to send it to herself. Ummm, not allowed. WHY NOT???!!!! We still didn’t know how it all worked, it’s not like you can withdraw from an email account. But we blindly plodded on. Ok, so Judy sent $100 to my email account. It let her do that. So I open my email on Judy’s computer and it tells me that I have to sign up to Hyperwallet too. Ok. So I open the link and it takes me to the Credit Union site. Since I don’t know Hyperwallet from nothin’ I fill in my info (uncomfortably – if there was a key stroke trace on that computer some Indian hacker owns my life). So far so good (haha – you know what that means). Once I have set up my account, I go to sign in so that I can access Judy’s $100 bucks but the site won’t let me in because my email address is already being used. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I guess the computer had opened Judy’s Hyperwallet account info which was still open on the computer when I tried to link in. I haven’t confirmed this yet, but I don’t think Judy is going to have an easy time accessing that remaining $900 because I think I changed her access info by accident. So I set up another account, using another email address. By this time, Judy had left me to the easy job of signing up to go to Western Union. She had sent herself the last dregs of cash she had left in her Scotia account. By this time, I was seeing the computer screen through a haze of murderous red. My new email address still didn’t work. That was it!!! I had a total spazz and gave up. It was now 2 pm, we had been working on this since 10 am. Judy and Suresh had to take me to a Western restaurant and feed me Pizza before I could calm down.

So plan number two in the squat toilet. New plan – thankfully not involving me as I don’t think I could take another one and keep my sanity. Did I mention that Judy, who is the one with no money, has remained calm and collected during all of this. Maybe all of that Temple time has something to it.
Next new plan. Judy called Morgan, her son, to use some of his money to put into her Scotia Bank account so she could Western Union it. However, Scotia Bank doesn’t list the full account number on their internet banking site (for security reasons I assume) but since Judy had just opened the account she didn’t have the number memorized and the piece of paper she wrote it on was in the pilfered purse. Morgan gave it a go but the bank wouldn’t deposit the money without a proper account number. Keep in mind that each of these steps takes a full day since we are on opposite day/night schedules. So Judy finds out the next day that Morgan was unsuccessful. Next next new plan. Morgan goes to Western Union directly the next day to send the money to Judy. But apparently, Morgan doesn’t have any government ID so he had to go and get a BCID (what a trooper – this probably took him all day) and then go back to complete the transaction. By now, it is two days after the internet fiasco and we are about to leave Hampi early because we have a 10 hour drive ahead of us. Judy checks her internet. She had an email saying the deed was done and giving her the access code. So close!!! Next stop, Western Union office. Closed. Next one closed. They won’t open for 30 minutes but we were eager to get going so we decided that we would stop on the way. There are Western Union offices everywhere here.

But we were driving through agricultural nowhere land. Lots of trees and farms but alas, no Western Union offices. We finally drove through a town of slightly moderate size and found an office. Judy heads in and (wait for it….) it was closed. They close early on Saturdays and as they informed Judy, no Western Union office would be open until Monday. OH, FOR GOD SAKE!!!!

By now I am getting low too but off we went to our flight to Delhi. After paying for our taxi (Suresh’s brother) and something to eat on the plane, we landed in Delhi with only 500 rupees between us. That’s about 12 bucks. The pre-paid cab kiosk was inside the airport, the money changer outside. No reentry. But finally a bit of good luck, we had enough to pay the cab, then I changed some traveler’s cheques so we were flush again.

So now after what will be a hilarious post about our arrival in Delhi, it is Monday morning and we are about to head out to find a Western Union office. Sweet Sweet OPEN Western Union office.

Yes, I know that this has been a long post but I had to LIVE it, just be glad you only had to read about it.

Suresh

2010-02-09T17:32:00.000-08:00

Suresh.

Suresh (photo stolen from Judy's webalbum)

I keep talking about Suresh in this blog but never really give any background – like how did I end up in the back of Suresh’s cab!! Now that Judy and I are on our own in Delhi, I appreciate Suresh even more. I make fun but he is really a gem. As you can imagine, spending 11 days in a car with someone, it is pretty hard to think of Suresh as our driver, he was one third of our traveling team – at least in our minds – in reality, it was somewhat blurry.

Some Suresh background. If you remember way back when I was first planning this trip, it was all because Judy was planning to come to India to visit her friend Priscilla. I never eventually saw Priscilla in the end and never stayed in her apartment so she sort of exited stage left in my blog but she was integral in the Suresh connection.

Judy and Suresh at the waterfall.

Even further background. (fuzzy here). From what Judy tells me, Suresh grew up near the Ashram of Baba. All I can glean about Baba is that his followers believe that he is a living God. I don’t know if this makes him a Swami, a Guru, what?? Apparently he is on his second of three incarnations. Again, I don’t know if he is a Hindu god or just some other type of god. As I have mentioned, Suresh is a Hindu who follows (?) Shiva so Baba must fit into this somehow.

Priscilla is also a devotee of Baba which is why she comes to India so often, she has apartments near two of his ashrams. While Judy was staying with Priscilla, she went to a couple of sermons (? – this blog is really bringing out my western-centrism) and hung out with some other devotees that Priscilla knows. But she can’t even enlighten me on the Baba thing.

Judy and Suresh enjoy a coconut at the Golden Temple.

One last thing about Baba because Baba is a real influence on the type of person Suresh is. From what I can tell, Baba has a lot of Western devotees who donate lots of money. Baba uses some (or maybe most, what do I know) of this money for good works. He has built numerous hospitals and other works for the benefit of the poor. Being a devote follower of Baba, Suresh is a true believer in Sava (spelling?). Sava is ‘doing good work’ for no personal benefit.

This entire preamble is to explain why, despite my scary books on India about how anyone and everyone will try to rip me off, I totally trusted Suresh. He was honest to the core; he would even remind waiters that they had forgotten to add one coffee to our bill – thanks Suresh.

Suresh listening intently to our guide at the Dancing Girl temple.

So, as I am sure you have already figured out, Judy met Suresh through Priscilla. Suresh has a large client base through the Baba family. Judy and Priscilla took a road trip with Suresh before I got here (see Judy’s pictures for beautiful photographic detail). So when I arrived, Judy had arranged for us to take another trip, which is what you are reading about on this blog!!

Suresh is married with one son. He lives with his wife, son, mother, father, and his wife’s parents. He is the family earner. He seems quite devoted to his family.
Just one more thing – Suresh dotes on Judy like she is his mother. But he also sort of treats her like a child, chiding her if she does anything that Suresh thinks is foolish eg, the Sari incident or if she lets people see her open wallet. (He would always say that I would have to take care of Judy once we went to Delhi).

He loved Judy's camera and was always willing to take out picture. This one is in Hampi.

Needless to say, Judy and Suresh had a special relationship. Some of the conversations were hilarious because Judy would ask questions that I would never have broached. Like the one about ladies undergarments or the one about circumcision!! But the topper was the question about gay Indian men. Side note: men here are very affectionate toward each other. They hold hands on the street and walk around with their arms around each other. It is very (very!) common, much more common to see men touching than to see couples or women holding hands. Anyway, this led Judy to ask Suresh if there were many gay men in India. He asked ‘what does that mean.’ So Judy clarified by saying ‘men who love each other and get married’. You should have seen Suresh’s eyes. They were like saucers!! ‘How is this possible?” he asked – looking like his world and head were about to explode. This is where I stepped in because I just could bear to see the results of the explanation. I said ‘it isn’t possible, haha, there is no such thing.’ He looked a little less horrified but I’m pretty sure the thought is still churning around in his head.

Suresh helping Judy chose street purfume (so many things wrong with that sentence...)

Suresh waiting while Judy takes a picture from an aquaduct. Another odd sentence.

Anyway, now when I talk about Suresh, you will have a better idea of who I am talking about.

Feet, eyes, lungs, stomach? Who will go first?

2010-02-06T17:46:00.000-08:00

Pre-Warning - the internet here is up and down so hopefully I will get a full post here. Keyboard seems ok. It is 7 am.

Judy and I got back to Bangalore last night, our 11 day taxi trip has finished and we are heading to Delhi today.

During our last chat, Judy, Suresh and I had left Bandipur Park and were heading through Mysore to get to Nagarhole Park. But before we get to today's final destination, we have a couple of stops on the way (of course).

Before we stopped for lunch, Suresh suggested we stop at a temple. Side note: as I mentioned Suresh is a Hindu and there are alot of Hindu temples here so naturally we stop at quite a few, but to Suresh's credit, we have also visited a Muslim Mosque, a Christian church, a couple of Jain temples and probably some stuff I didn't even realize was unique. Plus, a Hindu temple isn't just a Hindu temple, it might be a Shiva temple or a temple to some other Hindu god - which for the life of me, I cannot keep straight. I rememeber Shiva because that is Suresh's guy.

So, when Suresh mentioned stopping at another temple I just assumed it was one of those run of the mill - 500 year old temples with a few folks wandering around with red dye on their heads, men in loin clothes etc. But no - this was a special temple. I don't know why but it was on a river (which makes a temple more special it seems). So before going into the temple (is there any other word for temple?!) we went to the river to wash!! I kid you not!! Ok, mental image here: There is a long (wide) staircase leading down from the bank to the river below. There are hundreds of people in various states of dress at the water's edge, bathing. And I mean bathing. While the women here are very modest - no sleeveless tops here, thank you very much - the older ladies can shuck off their clothes as long as it is in the name of whichever god we are dealing with. So we have topless old ladies, young men in just their wet skivies, young girls in full saris washing their exposed bits - mostly feet and faces, old men in wet loinclothes. And apparently, part of the ritual washing includes laundry. So all of the above were also washing their clothes. And all around the bank and on every fence, surface, edge, wet clothes were hanging to dry. The river itself was disgusting with a mass of mush floating out in the center, just away from reaching arms. Under the water, there was clothes, swaying in the current, bright clothes under the murky water - it was crazy eerie. I had vision of dead people rising (ala Lord of the Rings) up from the water to snatch us under. I'm sure the pictures will not do the underwater world justice.

The 'camp' on the way to the river's edge

Everyone getting ready for a dip.

Look close, all of those shapes in the water are lost clothes. That's what I am telling myself anyway...

Yup. Naked old ladies.

Laundry.

So Suresh heads down to the water to do a wash, thankfully just his hands and a splash on the face and hair - he may have drank some too. By now, we were being watched by all of those not enraptured so I gave it a go. I went to the edge, dipped my hands in and put some water in my hair (this is an acceptable substitute for drinking it). Judy did the same. Then we scrubbed ourselves with baby wipes from fingers to shoulders.

Going in

This is actually happening!! It was even grosser and yet cooler close up.

And a hasty retreat. I like the way I hold up my skirt with my disgusting hands, I guess to protect it from the dirt on the ground.

One would think that this was sufficient to prove that we could take whatever India could throw at us but one would be wrong, we still had the actual temple to visit! Across the road (which in itself is always a life threatening event) to the temple. Wait, I have a name for those of you who google. The river is Kapila river, the temple is Nanjundeswar and the town in which these are situated is Nanjanaguda. Yeah, No, I did not remember those - Suresh wrote them down for me. We get to the temple and there is a line so long, I have no concept of how long it is. We couldn't even see the beginning or the end. Thousands of people trying to get in to worship Shiva and his minions (other incarnations? - I am a terrible anthropologist). So Suresh leads us to the 'skip the queue' queue. This cost us 200 rupees. In we go. Here I am at a loss for words. Remember back when I described the glass house in the garden in Bangalore and I said there were soooo many people. That was NOTHING compared to this place. People were shoving and mashing. There was a women behind me who I swear I could tell you her cup size and how many children she has had (C and three), she was pressed up against me flat on. And she wasn't happy that I wasn't equally pressed up against the person in front of me. (side note - an extra special thanks to Tanya for the small backpack lock which gave me a bit of security here).

I think I have alluded to the fact that people cannot wear shoes into temples (or take cameras so not pictures unfortunately). As most of you know, I have crap feet and this just about kills me. In this case, no shoes, lots of other feet and god knows what on the floor. Judy kept saying, 'don't look down'. Like I could anyway, there was no space between me and the guy in front. We finally made it through the various narrow passages and gates which lessened the crush somewhat. But now we are in a cave. I think the temple was actually cut out of rock, or maybe it was just so dark and dank, it seemed that way. Temples consist of lots of little rooms (or enclaves in smaller ones) dedicated to various gods. This one was an ant hill reproduction. Each little room had it's own crowd trying to get to the front to dip into the holy water/oil (?) and to get a bit of bindi - the red (or white or yellow) powder for the forehead dot. Suresh was right in there. I hit one so that I was sufficiently dotted and then stuck to the edges as much as I could. also at random places (sometimes right in the stream of traffic) people have lit little fires. This adds a new sense of fun - try to not catch fire!! And the smoke!! did I mention we were in a cave - sure, but did I also mention caves don't have proper ventilation. I started coughing about half way through. Good hacking coughs. Awesome. But wait there's more. At one point, for reasons unknown (joke, blessing, playful boyishness), Suresh splashed us with a bit of holy water. It landed right in my eye. So now, my feet are crawling with things I don't want to think about, my stomach has likely ingested something from the river (nail biters should not come to India), my lungs are completed blocked and now my eyes have been contaminated!

We made it out alive of course, and for all of my whinging, no the worse for wear - and with an excellent story to boot. I must say, having Suresh at the helm has taken us places that most tourists just would not normally see.

Outside the temple. A Shiva (I think) statue under construction.

One of the dangers of public laundry day.

Butter candles outside the temple entrance.

One last bit, Suresh is picking us up in 10 minutes to go to the airport. While we were passing through Mysore, Judy had Suresh stop at FabIndia. This is a clothing etc store that my Women in India book had mentioned.

FabIndia!!!!!!!

A mosque in Mysore.

A typical shopping street.

While I was waiting for Suresh and Judy to pick up the blouse, I watched this family shop for hand made metal pots. It was a big decision and, of course, attracted a crowd of onlookers.

The final decision on the pots. I loved the look of these hand crafted metal crafts, but, alas, no room to bring home a huge pot.

I just signed back on. it is now three days later and see that the internet went down before I could finish. suffice it to say that FabIndia's name is APT! Is is Fab!! I bought two new Indian outfits and a tablecloth and a nice shirt which may or may not end up as a gift.

Lunch in Mysore. The very best dish I had in India. A cauliflower nut spicy concoction!! I never would have guessed.

Sorry for the delayed post. there will be two more today so you're welcome for the bonanza of blog!.

a tiger hunting we will go....

2010-02-03T21:51:00.000-08:00

(prewarning - terrible keyboard here - expect typos)

Right now we are in Hampi. Judy and Sureh went into the temple for '10 minutes' so that Suresh can do his thing. After an hour waiting in the blazing sun I decided to hit the internet, where it is guaranteed that we will never find each other. oh well, for blog purposes, we are still a week away from Hampi. On with our travels.

I believe that last we discussed, we were just entering the Ministry of Forests office on Friday morning to get something or other to enter Nagarahole National Park. Side note about Indian business hours. Pretty much nothing opens here before 10 am. Sounds awesome I thought when I first arrived, but I have been waking up by 7 am each day, so less awesome. Anyway, we had to wait til 10 to go to the government office. The office was hard to find and involved alot of asking random men on the street for directions. At one point we had three guys pointing in three separate directions. I wish I had gotten a picture. The is the exception to Judy's observation/rule that no matter who you ask or where you want to go, the person will say 'go straight'.

So after much backing and forthing, we found the office. (eeek, lots of yelling and arm waving, a black faced languor just came into the internet place!!!) When we arrived we had a vague plan; go to Nagarahole. I'm sure Suresh had more of an idea but either he can't convey this to us or he chooses not to elaborate. (I am going to have to write a whole post just about the foibles of Suresh.) We find the office and much gibber gabbing (I say that with the utmost respect for the various Indian languages but it really is incomprehensible). Suresh informs us that there is no space for two more nights. We wouldn't be able to go until Monday night. I should mention here that another man had arrived in the tiny office. He was just standing in the doorway, I didn't know why but it is fairly normal to have onlookers for all transactions.

The National Park Office for Nagarahole and Bandipur. It was just a partition at the end of a hallway.

Suresh and Ravipoor checking schedules.

The closest we got to an actual tiger was the stuffed dead one the Park guy showed us.

There is another park somewhere around Mysore ( I am fuzzy on the geography of this trip) so I got Suresh to ask about that one, Bandipur National Park. They had space for this very night. But by now (nothing happens quickly here) it was almost noon. We needed to discuss so we went outside and had a sit down. We were trying to map out our schedule to go to both parks. It turns out that 'booking' at this office is for a cabin but you can go to the park without a permit. Then the man who had been in the doorway of the office wandered over and talked to Suresh. It seems that he and his family were also planning to visit the park. There was much discussion about sleeping quarters. I believe that the man, who I have since learned is named Roopashree, and Suresh were going to share a cabin. Unfortunately, that didn't work out. Another future post topic - drivers and their sleeping arrangements. Anyway, between the three of us and our new friend we decided to spend Friday night at Bandipur, Saturday in the park, then back through Mysore, then a day trip to Nagarahole on Sunday. Lots of park, lots of birds - at least I hoped lots of birds.

So back into the office to book our cabin for tonight, a call to our current Mysore hotel to cancel and check out (fortunately they didn't charge us for a late checkout). Then off we went. I had noticed a sign on the office wall about 'safaris' through the parks from 6am to 9am and 6pm to 8pm. We got to Bandipur at about 6pm so we quickly checked in and got our cabin.

The view of the road and the neighbours from our cabin deck.

Unloading the car at the Bandipur cabin.

And then we leapt onto a 'safari' bus. Us and 40 Indian tourists. The bus was a 50 year old rickety school bus with dusty windows and a surly driver. At least I got a window seat but it wasn't exactly what I was expecting after our wonderful Africa Safari experiences. However, the bus was full so off we went, rattling like it was about to fall apart. I couldn't believe that any animal wouldn't run and hide from the noise 15 minutes before we were even close. We saw lots of spotted deer. And there were birds but we barely slowed down for the animals, let alone the birds. I had a theory that the driver had a weight criteria for animals - I figured about 40 kilos. He would stop for spotted bucks but not for does but he would stop for does of a larger species - Samba? - I guess they were big enough. Near the end of the hour trip, we passed a lake on the other side of the bus. I could see tons of ducks, but I couldn't turn around in my seat and he kept rolling the bus so even over my shoulder I couldn't get a bead on any of them. This has been my luck with ducks - I can never get to look closely enough. I have lots of birds but I just can't get a duck!

Judy and Suresh on the bus.

What I could see from my seat.

Valiently trying though.

By the time I turned around we were at the end of the lake with no ducks!

Spotted deer, lots of spotted deer.

Right before we got back to the station, I saw my first wild peacock. Very exciting - everyone on the bus got excited, there was much muttering of 'national bird' possibly for our benefit. Once we got back, we asked if another bus was going to go around that evening? - only if enough people showed up. After wandering around for awhile and avoiding very aggressive monkeys - one snuck up behind me and unzipped my backpack!. Eventually another bus load was ready. This time I got up front and our driver was nicer. We chatted him up a bit so he pointed out some birds for me. But the best part was that we saw wild Asian Elephants. Cool!! And a pack of six wild dogs. Also cool!! We didn't pass the lake again so still no ducks but we did see a serpent eagle (no picture of the eagle though).

Our unnamed evening driver. Even the 'shaky man' setting on my camera couldn't handle the park roads!

Wild Asian Elephants. Not as majestic as the African, but harder to find!! These were the only ones we saw.

A male peacock (technically that's redundant - it's a male peafowl)

Wild dogs.

Doesn't it just look like the family dog. But, apparently, they are vicious and a pack can take down a tiger.

We went to dinner in the park restaurant/buffet where we met up with Roopashree and family. We met his sister and her new husband, his mother and more. Dinner was unnoteworthy. Our cabin was 'quaint'. There were mosquito nets over the beds, mine had mice poop in it. Judy woke up in the night to something large landing on hers so were glad to have them. We slept in our silk sleeping liners. It was pretty cold. Judy had given her very scratchy blanket to Suresh - he had arranged with the guard to sleep in the ranger station - so I'm sure she was uncomfortable. But the cabin was plunked down in the middle of a forest/field and we were surrounded by deer which we could see by the full moon so it was pretty incredible.

Spotted deer surrounding our cabin.

Our netted beds

A blurry full moon.

The next morning I wanted to be on the first bus at 6 so I made Judy get up at 5 am so we would be ready. Breakfast would be at 8:30 so I figured we could get two trips in before then. Of course, I forgot where I was - India! We were there before any staff. Then after 30 minutes the guard showed up to open the office. Another 15 minutes for the man who controls the sign in book. Then 20 minutes to light the incense and do altery things. Then a few more minutes to get the book and the money etc etc before it looked like we might be able to buy our tickets. A tour guide/bus driver had shown up by then and was washing his front window so I got Judy to go stand near it. First in line for tickets I have learned does not mean first on the bus. All of a sudden Judy is getting on the bus and waving me over. We had been invited to go and open the gates before the first tour by James, the guide. Judy is such a charmer!!!

James, our coffee addicted, birding driver.

We didn't see anything too exciting on that trip but we did get to know James and he is very keen on birds so when we finally got our tickets and the real tour happened, he saved us the front seats - I got to sit in the 'guide seat' up front with the driver. So now we have our tickets, we are on the bus, there are other passengers but we still didn't leave. The driver needed a coffee. Fortunately, he invited Judy and Suresh to join him and they brought one back for me too. If one has to wait, might as well have coffee. Finally at 7:40 we started. Lucky we got up at 5! James pointed out lots of birds and stopped the bus while I looked at them with the binoculars. My binos always win me friends, everyone loves to look through them. And he was astounded by the bird book. If they weren't so bloody expensive, I would bring ten so I could hand them out. He knew his birds (at least to the family if not the species). When we got back, we dispatched Suresh to buy another round of tickets so that we could keep our good seats. Judy had a nap and I went off for more coffee with James. I think he is more of a bean junkie than me and Judy. The coffee shop was a cement hut and the coffee was served in metal cups like the ones they give you with dip at White Spot - just a quick shot. Second trip started at 10 am. More birds, more wild dogs but no more elephants and definitely no tigers, which are the big draw here. The park is actually called a tiger reserve but we had been warned it isn't 'tiger season'. We did come across some fresh prints in the road. They were big and the claw marks were impressive. We didn't get back until after 11:15 but breakfast was still available so we had a quick bite, packed up and headed out. We needed to pick up Judy's blouse (see prev post) which was at that time being made in Mysore. I will stop there. Judy is having some serious money issues. She can't access her main bank account here and her visa card was stolen out of her purse (at an ashram) so we are going to try to set up a money transfer via internet. Should be good. Next post - we finally get to the hinted at worst hotel ever.

Another monkey video. You can never watch enough monkey videos (it's true). That's Suresh's voice giving the commentary. 'Judy, Look! Judy!!

A Sari Affair.

2010-01-31T21:20:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned before, Judy bought a sari at the gift shop of the Sultan's Palace. I had already left so that I could put my shoes on. Judy came to find me and said (and I quote) 'I never buy things at tourist gift shops' but there was a beautiful sari with a black border and a lovely cream, orange etc pattern of flowers. Suresh took one look at it and declared it wasn't pure silk so it was no good. Unfortunately, he then left us to our own devices. Judy really liked the pattern so I said, if you like it buy it. My friend Val had long ago taught me to buy what you like for the price you think is reasonable. The clerk assured Judy that it was silk, she would never lie because she worked for a 'government store' and they had to tell the truth. She then knocked the price down to $2100 rupees so Judy bought it.

Judy was quite excited to have a Sari but Suresh told her if she wanted to wear it she would have to get a sari blouse, the little half shirt, and a sari petticoat, apparently a cotton skirt is worn under the sari - who knew? After we got back from all of Mysore touristy business Suresh said we would go the shops to get Judy all sorted. But first, Judy wanted to find out for sure if the sari was pure silk or not. she had read somewhere that if you light silk on fire it will turn to ash but if there is any other synthetic fabric mixed in there will be a plastic lump left when the fire burns out. So there the three of us are, out front of the hotel, cutting a piece off the sari and lighting it on fire, in the street. Well, of course, the tell tale plastic lump was there as damning evidence!! Not pure silk.

The cutting of the sari. Just a tiny bit needed to show if it is a blend or pure silk.

Lighting the swatch.

The offending plastic lump which, unfortunately didn't show up in the photo.

Judy got a mini Suresh lecture on trusting salespeople. I, attempting to be the voice of reason, mentioned that it was still beautiful and could still be used. It's not like she had bought a plastic picnic table cover but Suresh seemed to feel that if Judy wanted a sari, Judy should have a proper sari, although he kept this to himself for the time being. Suresh is a bit sly.

Anyway, first we needed the fabric for the blouse. Off we go to the 'fabric and clothing district'. There were hundreds of shops selling all manner of saris, Indian dresses, western clothes and lots of tailor shops. However by this time, it was after 8 pm. First we go to a couple of fabric shops - have I mentioned the fabulous fabrics in this country! - where the array of colours of silk was staggering. But Judy wanted a black blouse to match the black border of her sari. Suresh insisted that Judy have hand woven (I think this was the goal?) silk for her blouse so we went to a few shops before we found one that had the specific type Suresh was looking for.

I have to give a bit of info on shopping with Suresh. He doesn't understand women and shopping. For example, when I again mentioned some downtime, maybe for some shopping, he said 'what do you need, I will get it for you. Do you need sandals, I can get you sandals'. Another time, Judy saw a sign for a book mall and mentioned that maybe we could go there. Suresh said, 'what book do you want, I will get it for you'. You get my point here. Plus, the few times we have been in a shopping area, Suresh leads the way at a quick clip. Stop to look at something and you may be lost in the crowd forever. So shopping so far has been a challenge.

So back to the streets of Mysore. Suresh is walking at a running pace for me and Judy, stopping in the occasional store, and then continuing on until we get to the snazziest place on the street. It has glass counters and very alert looking clerks. Fabric is upstairs. So up we go and are sat to have the fabric brought to us. By this time Judy and I are getting quite giggley. It is hard not to find Suresh amusing when he has a mission. He takes his 'responsibilities' quite seriously.

In the Silk and Sari shop. Pick a colour, any colour.

Hmmm? Which black silk fabric matches the sari better?

Judy brings out her sari and you should have seen the look of derision on the clerk's face. But he was a professional and pulled it together pretty fast. But then he just couldn't stay silent when he saw the price. He and Suresh had a unintelligible conversation which we assumed was about the idiocy of tourists. He then explained that she could wear it once or twice but then it would not be usable as a sari and could be used as wash rags (I think he said wall covering but we knew what he meant). Judy and I were now finding this all quite hilarious. Men having long discussions about her blouse without consulting her was just too, well, Indian. (Suresh has to be reminded occasionally that we get to participate in decision making every once in a while. Our participation is often a mere formality because we usually end up doing what Suresh thinks we should be doing. )

Finally a fabric was chosen, a piece was cut and, foolishly, I assumed we were done here. Not so. We head downstairs where Suresh puts his 'get Judy a real sari' plan into action. The clerks are of course, quite happy to comply. So we get sat again to look at saris. Now, as most of you know, sari fabric is the most beautiful fabric in the world. The colours, the patterns, the texture. It is prit-near impossible not to want to touch them and buy them for that matter. They start arriving to be opened and spread out on the counter, one gorgeous sari after another. We look at the price - LESS than the fake one she bought!! Clerk - 'feel the difference, this is silk, yours is woven coconut husks'. Well, I am paraphrasing here but you get the picture. By now, Judy is liking her sari less and less, and we are laughing more and more. The men keep looking at us like we clearly are too crazy to make our own decisions so more man discussing ensues.

The clerk and Suresh were keen that Judy buy a higher quality sari, hand woven silk. But Judy liked the soft feel of the lower end but still pure silk ones. So we looked at dozens of designs, no two in the store are alike. She already had the black blouse fabric so we started with saris with black in them. But it turns out that the better quality, cheaper prices saris have blouse fabric included. Judy's fake sari was getting worse and worse. We didn't like the ones with black so Judy chose one with peach and sage green pastels. Lovely, of course. I will mention here that I was strong and did not buy one but it was close.

Here's a beautiful one.

Or how about this beautiful one?

And another beautiful one.

Blouse fabric bought, second sari chosen and paid for. Mission accomplished - HA, surely you jest! Nope, after the 90 minutes of sari selection, we were back on the street. Now we were looking for the petticoats, one for each sari. Two shops later, that was done without too much fanfair. Then we were looking for a tailor, again at a break neck pace. Judy kept saying things like - 'um, is there going to be a woman to take my measurements?'. No answer - this never bodes well. First tailor couldn't do it for a week. More charging about (dodging cars in the pitch black in back alleys just added to the fun). Next tailor shop was below street level and had their entire inventory on the floor for some never-clarified reason. The tailor had to be called but he arrived withing 10 minutes. For those 10 minutes, Judy kept worrying about some creepy old man taking her measurements. But when the tailor arrived he was a quite nice looking young man. 'bring on the measuring' says Judy!

Now to create a mental picture for you. We have a shop with stuff everywhere and two employees, the tailor and Suresh all discussing Judy and her bosom. Within minutes, the man from the next shop comes over to throw in his two cents. I was on the stairs above just killing myself laughing. Poor Judy, she was trying not to look at me but she couldn't keep a straight face either. Then when a sixth man arrived from the street to join in the fray, it was too much. Finally, with the full complement of the six required men, Judy and her boobs were measured. By now, I was actually crying with laughter. Laughing that hard can be dangerous when bathrooms are few and far between! I took lots of pictures, which I'm sure was not helping the seriousness of the situation.

The tailor shop, with a full compliment of 'helpers'.

The measuring of the bosom.

Eventually, now almost 10 at night, we were done. Off to dinner - I remember now, we had dinner, spaghetti alfredo (don't get western food in India) - to debrief on the sari business. Suresh couldn't understand why this all seemed so funny to us but every time he mentioned something else, it would set us off again.

Checking out the new silk sari.

A couple of days later, we were passing through Mysore again so we picked up the blouses. But so far, Judy has not had a chance to try either of the saris on - that night we were in the worst hotel EVER and we didn't even want to take out our toothbrushes let alone that lovely silk sari (I will eventually catch up and tell you about this night). Next night we got to our tiny room late. Now Suresh is saying he is going to find an Indian woman at this hotel to come to our room to assist Judy with putting on the sari as it would be highly inappropriate for him to help. I will let you know how that goes. Pictures will be taken.

The final results.

Dress Rehearsal - Practising over clothes. Check out those awesome pleats!

Looking good. Ready for the whole ensemble.

Looks amazing. And it isn't even the real silk one.

This side looks good too!!

Judy was having so much fun, I wanted to give it a try too.

Judy put on the real silk one next but apparently I didn't take a picture on my camera so here is one of her in the sari at the airport.

Off to Mysore

2010-01-31T20:41:00.001-08:00

So, we have been charging about the country and I have not had one minute or any opportunity to write anything but all is well. So much has happened but we are outside of the Golden Temple in Little Tibet (it has a real name which I will eventually add) and we are eager to get inside while the getting is good (worship?) So back to last week. We left Bangalore and headed off to Mysore. I have to be honest here, we did some stuff on the way, I am trying to take notes because it is beyond overwhelming and I just can't keep track, but I can't really remember what we did on the trip. Ok, checked my notes, we drove lots. We did stop for lunch at this very funky restaurant - part of the Kamat chain but much better than the hotel. Again Veg - did I mention I have not had any meat since I left the plane!! Anyway, the lunch was like the meal I described earlier with the chapati (thinner naan) in the middle with the little pots but at this place, they have an organic farm and their own cows for buttermilk & curd (yogurt - a meal staple). Here they skipped the little pots and just put everything on a banana leaf. If any pile of food started to get low, they rushed over and refilled the leaf. I had to finally fold my leaf in half to stop them putting more food in front of me. The meals are so delicious that it is hard not to eat and eat and eat. Veg does not mean diet.

Potless Thali

Suresh enjoying his lunch

Buckets of food - it just kept arriving!

After lunch we took a quick walk around the restaurant. There was monkeys, now blase but at the time still new. However these were particularly excellent monkeys. One of them had stolen someone's jacket so the whole troop but especially the babies were having a high old time playing with the jacket. Hiding under it, tug of war, peek a boo. Very hilarious. I took a short video but of course, it will not do justice.

I have the Coooaatt!! Come and get me.

Let's just check the pockets. If we find cash we don't have to steal our Thalis.

Hmmm? What's under here?

On our way out, I bought some candy, I wanted three pieces of two kinds but I ended up with a pound! Oh well. Candy counter

More driving, a temple or two. One extra note, we stopped at a Bull temple and had our first sugar cane juice. Ok, sounds sweet but actually very tasty. They crush the sugar cane right there and mix in ginger and fresh lime. Yum. Is this starting to be the food blog of India.

Entrance to the Bull Temple (actually this might be a different Bull Temple)

Too much Thali.

Decorating the Bull with flowers and other ritually stuff.

Suresh and Judy making sure the Bull shows up in their photos.

Crushing the sugar cane with added ginger and lime.

Our cane juice ready to drink.

Eventually we got to Mysore where we stayed in the previously mentioned swank hotel. However, as nice as the room was and the people very friendly, the food was disappointing. Side note here - elevators. Our first hotel Kamat in Bangalore had this creaky old elevator with gate doors where you could see the floors go by. But the best part was when you hit the button, there was this loud siren that sounded. Especially nice when we arrived at 2 am and the door man held the door open for 5 minutes with the siren screeching for the full time. I can only imagine what the other guests thought. Then in Mysore the elevator was very nice, it jutted out of the building and had an outside window overlooking the park. But the floor buttons had no relation to which floor the elevator would stop at. push 4, end up on the roof, push 5, get 6. We were on the 5th floor and not once did we actually end up on 5. It got to be a game, where would we land?? Again, the order of events is fuzzy. On our first day, Suresh took us to a mountain temple - chamundeskwari ? - with a beautiful view of the city. The temple was a temple. I skipped entering this one as the line was horrendously long. I just wandered around outside while Judy and Suresh went in.

The Temple Tower

Temple Detail

The pretty version of the line.

The real, very long and ugly version of the line to get in.

There were cows everywhere, again a novelty at the time but now 'whatever'. There was a festival before I arrived that involved cows in some way so many cows in the city are painted yellow, some green, with their horns in gold or red. Pretty but disconcerting to see a yellow jersey cow in the street. Here's a Montage of cows so maybe I won't keep putting more and more picutes of cows.

Yellow Cows

Mom and baby cow

I often used a nearby cow as an excuse to take pictures of people (as if they didn't know they were in the picture!)

This was a huge freakin' cow and it came staight at me but veered off just in time to not trample me. Can one cow, if it is big enough, be a stampede?

Just hangin' out on the temple steps.

After many pictures, did I mention that young men will ask to have their picture taken with you on your camera! People also love for you to take pictures of their babies. But they all pose so the pictures aren't that good. it is fun though and a good excuse to start a conversation. the people are sooooo friendly.

Some more random photos from my time on the mountain.

Young men, just standing around, enjoying each others company.

Ladies

More Ladies

Men

a view of Mysore behind the garbage piles behind the Temple.

A group of boys. After I took this pictures, I got to be in photos with each and every one of them on each one's cellphone camera.

A spontaneous parade.

Selling bracelets for worshippers. Suresh bought one for each of us. Mine dyed my clothes the first time it got wet.

After the temple we hit the sultan's summer palace. Again, with the shoes off. And it was huge and full of marble so my feet were very unhappy with me by the end of that. Not much to say about the palace. Big, lots of wall paintings, intricate carving, no pictures allowed. You've all been there in one country or another.

Most of these pictures of from the grounds as there was no photos allowed inside.

Entrance gate to palace

View of the palace through the entrance gate

Gardener on Palace grounds

View of the Garden from the Palace

a sneak photo of a wall inside the palace. It's not very good but I broke laws to get it so you have to look at it

This is terrible, but I think this is a differnt Palace and for the life of me I don't remember much about it. But I have pictures so here goes.

The 'Other' Palace.

A lion statue outside this mystery palace

Ladies in red and yellow saris

Oops. Another cow photo snuck in.

The best part of this visit was that Judy bought a Sari in the gift shop. The sari will have to be it's very own post because it became quite an epic event. Stay tuned. After the palace, I think we ate because by now I was dying. But alas no rest for the weary, not with Suresh at the wheel. I keep mentioning 'down time' but I think he thinks he will not be earning his keep if we aren't moving. Anyway, off to a park with a lake (name?) where they offer boat rides. We passed a nesting island where the binoculars were pushed to the limit. After we disembarked (haha) we wandered around the park/trees and did some more birding. I have a convert in Suresh, he is keener than me when there is a bird aflutter. I think we skipped dinner that night.

Egret - Cattle I think, I can't see it's feet.

Fish, all those birds have to eat something.

Night Heron (in the day)

An Eagle of some sort or other.

Painted Stork

Judy makes some friends

Row boats

Indian row boats

Off to our lovely room for a much needed sleep. Seriously, we keep falling asleep at 8 o'clock because our days are so full. The next morning we got to sleep in for a bit because our plan for the morning was to got to the Ministry of Forests to get a permit for a National Park. That story will have to be for next times as it is 'temple time' (say that like Hammer-time). Other stories to anticipate, Worst Hotel EVER, a day (or two) in the park, the temple stampede, a visit to the fall, and today - Little Tibet. Did I mention that I need some downtime!! We have been in the boonies so I am hoping that I will have more access to the internet after this. By the way, Judy and I are getting on like a house on fire, we laugh so much at the ridiculousness of so many things that Suresh is starting to worry we are actually insane asylum escapees. And I am getting better at the bathrooms but I still can't keep my scarf from touching the floor! Ick.

Some Indian Wildlife
These little squirels are everywhere. They run with their little tails staight up but it is hard to get a picture because they are so fast.

A very cute baby goat

Out and about in Bangalore.

2010-01-27T17:32:00.000-08:00

It is 7 am and I only have 30 minutes on the free computer at the hotel here in Mysore. This place is SWANK compared to Kamat hotel in Bangalore. It has a fan and a shower and so far no cockroaches (who made an appearance - just little ones - on our second night at Kamat).

So back to our first day. After we left the Internet place, we wandered over to Brigade Street where Judy knew there was shopping. We walked for what seemed like miles. On our route they were preparing some sort of parade grounds - I learned that the next day was a national holiday. I wanted to take a picture of the National Disaster Management sign for Melissa but first I tried to ID a bird. Out came the binoculars. Within one minute a National Guard came rushing over with his rifle to move us along. I pointed to the bird and he said "it is a bird - GO!" We went, sorry Melissa, no picture. One day my binoculars will get me arrested (remember Kenya?)

Anyway, we made it to Brigade Street but it was super-commercial and by then it was dark and we were tired so we hopped in a auto-rickshaw to go home. I realize I am not breaking any new ground (literary, anthropologically or travel lore wise) by describing Indian traffic but I would be remiss if I didn't give it at least a mention. IT IS INSANE! It makes Bangkok look organized. There are (in order of kill-me-ability) trucks, buses, cars, auto-rickshaws, motorcycles (with up to 6 people per), bicycles, ox carts, carts pulled by barefoot men, random cows, and then the lowest of the low - the poor pedestrian who statistically should have been dead by the age of four if he tried to cross two streets per day from the age of two.

I am trying to decipher the honking, which is constant. There is the 'I am beside you honk', the 'I am passing you honk', I assume (probably incorrectly) that there is a 'watch out because I am not stopping for you' honk for smaller vehicles and pedestrians. Amazingly, I haven't seen an accident despite everyone driving on the wrong side of the road, weaving past each other all the while not hitting cows or people, talking on their cell phones. Fortunately, Suresh is a good driver (insane but good). And I am reassured by the fact that first, he won't get paid if he kills us, second and way more important, he will never get paid again if he wrecks his car.

Suresh is actually a very nice man. I will push my luck and try to tell you about day two even though I will likely get booted from this computer.

My second Kurta outfit. Check out those huge pants. I already look like I have elephanititis!

Suresh picked us up at 10am on Tuesday (after a breakfast of Idly - soft rice cakes with curry dip - yum) to take us on a tour of Bangalore.

My second morning, my second breakfast. This is called Idly, a rice mush cake that comes with dipping sauce.

As I mentioned Tuesday was a National holiday of some sort - not Independence day, that's all I know. Our first stop was a garden (I will have to fill in names later) where they were having a garden show. Indians love their parks.

This was the entrance to the park, a huge rocky area with a tiny temple on top.

A bunny garbage can looking out from the bushes.

I think there was a parakeet up there.

You can't get a picture without people so I just went with it.

Boys climbing a tree

There were traffic cops everywhere. We finally got a parking spot and headed in. So many people. We wandered around for a bit, took some pictures. I am not taking nearly as many pictures as I should. Even though people walk up to us and ask to have their picture taken, especially people with babies, or even ask to take our pictures, I just can't get over the ickyness of objectifying people. But, of course, I am torn. They are such beautiful people. And the colours are out of this world. Fortunately, Judy has no such qualms and is snap happy to there will be lots of photos. But I digress.

Take a picture of our baby!

In the middle of the park was the glass house, actually a green house.
The Glass House behind a million people

The Glass House closer up.

In we went to look at a massive, impressive display of flowers, now wilting in the hothouse. The flowers were secondary however to the bazillion people they had crammed into this glass house. We could barely move. Again, mental flashes of stampeding crowds crushing innocent people under their feet. But, clearly, we made it out, uncrushed.

The crowds inside the Glass House were overwhelming

Flowers!

More flowers but in a pillar this time.

Cops directing the crowds

Or just posing. I hope this isn't a cop but with the child labour laws here - who knows??

The Christmas tree display. Such a sad little wilty tree.

Vegetable towers

More vegetable display.

I did some birding at the lotus pond which wasn't nearly as pretty as the name makes it seem. But there were some good birds, none of which I remember... - a couple of types of moorhens and an Indian Pond Heron? a new Kite, a parrot of some sort.

School Field Day at the park

Selling popcorn.

The lotus pond. Two Indian Pond Herons, a Darter and a Moorhen.

The rose garden.

Yikes!!

Then we went for lunch. Suresh ordered for us. We got some sort of full meal package. First, tomato soup with cardamon and ginger, a coconut pastry, and a papadam with dices onions & other veg. This was called a salad. Then the main meal arrived. Note for mom, this will be the style for your next Indian meal because it was AWESOME! On a big plate, two naan surrounded by 10 little dishes filled with various vegetarian currys, yogurt and cucumber (raita?), rice and I can't even remember what all. It was amazing. Plus the bonus of eating all of this with my hands. Actually hand, one doesn't(or at least tries really hard not to) eat with their left hand. I am getting pretty good at it.

Our lunch. Now I know this is called a Thali (a complete meal with all the fixins)

Judy tucks in.

This restaurant is where I encountered my first Indian toilet. I have dealt with squat toilets in the past and have never been adept at the best of times. I think I am standing backwards. But past practise did not prepare me for my new situation. Add to the squat toilet situation, a scarf, a flowing top, and ridiculously huge pants. Then consider that I am strapped up with hidden bags like a old West gunslinger with one around my waist and another around my neck, under my arm with a strap also around my waist. throw into the mix a purse and a camera and you have a recipe for unpleasantness. Laundry night!.

Suresh is a devout Hindu so he manages to sneak in a couple of temples each day under the guise of 'tourist interest' but really he want to worship. The temples are quite beautiful, (I have pictures which are all starting to look alike) and it is interesting to watch the people doing whatever it is they are doing. Mostly giving money and looking pious. I shall now rant. Every time I go to some poor country, the organized religion drives me crazy. The poorest people giving money for upkeep of an expensive temple plunked down in the middle of their ramshackle homes. But then I remember that I am standing in the middle of these poor poor people with my untold riches (the cost of my camera, binoculars, bag etc could feed a family for a year) and I am equally disgusted by my own culture and self. This is why people don't like to travel - it forces uncomfortable self reflection. This is why I like to travel.

The temple.

Shoes off!

The Bull Temple

My first Bindi.

Need a temple souvenir?

Anyway. We ended the day at Russell Market, a fruit, veg and flower market established by the British in 1927. I was tired by then and had no interest in fruit, veg OR flowers.

Russell Market - I have to say, I did not like this market, it was cramped and smelly and I didn't think the people were very friendly.

Inside the market

More market wares.

Last stop, a nearby Christian church (Suresh thought we needed to pray to our own god?) where they were having mass over loud speakers. What with the neon lights and the booming voice, it wasn't at all comforting like I imagine a church should be. I did try to sit on a bench out front but a guard moved me along. I guess only worshippers are allowed to sit.

The Christian Church lit up at night.

The Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus in the comforting glow of blue Neon

And don't forget to watch for theives while you worship.

A few more random images from the day.

That park temple again.

Selling snacks.

Temple detail.

Me and Judy

Driving by the night market.

Back to Kamat by 8 pm. I skipped dinner, lunch was still with me. Judy fell asleep in her clothes by 8:02. I followed close behind.

I will not even attempt to steal another 30 minutes on this computer - I am in a room behind the front desk and the door keeps opening so I think I am done.

My first day in India - brain melting

2010-01-25T03:25:00.000-08:00

Let me start with the flight since I can probably process that info a bit better than my first day here.

I made it out ok but of course, once again I got lost in Vancouver airport. I had got to chatting with my seat mate on the Vic to Van run. Once we landed and got into the terminal, I started following the International Departure signs as I continued chatting. Once again, third year in a row, I found myself at the manned desk where I had to show my boarding pass. AGAIN, I missed the turn where I check in to get my boarding pass. As I was heading back, I realized I had also forgotten to pick up my bag. Hmmm, so much for all of my security measures, a carbiner isn't going to help if I just leave stuff abandoned. When I found the baggage carousel, my backpack was going around and around all by itself, nobody around. So I scooped that, eventually found the check in, got my stuff in order and finally to my gate. I had a couple of hours to kill so I bought a magazine and planted myself.

My flight to Frankfurt started worryingly. My back of the seat video terminal didn't work. 10 hours!! No videos!! Mr. Head Steward was on the job. He rebooted several times but still no luck. Eventually, after my first suggesting he move me to first class and then, second, a smiley threat to make his life miserable, he shut down the whole system and got it working after about 90 minutes.

90 minutes of rebooting!

I watched UP which was hilarious; 500 Days of Summer which was also very good and Love Happens which was so bad that of course it was the only movie they showed on the next leg of my journey. Food was very good - ravioli.

The wait at Frankfurt was short so I didn't have time for anything. It was snowing there so this meant for some reason, that we landed a million miles from the terminal and had to shuttle it from the back-40.

Snowy Frankfurt airport

By the time I got to my gate, I only had time to fill my water bottle, hit the washroom and then get in line to pass over my boarding pass. Just as I was entering the on-ramp, two guards pulled me aside to give me 'extra security'. There was another woman walking beside me who asked if it was for both of us and they said no, just me. Imagine me a icy windshield and the woman guards hands as an ice scraper. She was everywhere. then the wand. I don't know what the wand measured but it was beeping crazily away. I didn't know if this meant that I was covered in explosives, drugs, or just had an underwire bra. Apparently, whatever it meant, I was allowed on the plane. Not to dwell, but I found this fairly innocuous experience somewhat unsettling. Why did they pick me. They didn't have a computer so they didn't have access to my itinerary beyond where my flight was going but everyone was going to the same place. They would have had to chose me based on my looks or actions. Do I look shifty? Do I act suspicious? I am used to not standing out and I have to say, I don't like being noteworthy.

Next jump, Frankfurt to Bangalore was fine but no back of the seat videos. By this time I was so tired I didn't even care, especially when I realized the movie that was showing. I did have an empty seat between me and the aisle person, a nice German lady. I think I fell asleep right away but someone woke me up for dinner. My choice was chicken or vegetarian. I went chicken. My seat mate got the veg. Hers came with rice and green and yellow stuff plus many little pots of sauces and dips. I was quite jealous as mine was adequate at best. Anyway, 9 hours later I was in India. Again I was sent to an extra security person who stamped my passport and handed it back without explanation. For the three seconds it took me to find and read the stamp, I thought I wasn't allowed in. But the stamp just said that I have to leave India for two months before I can apply for another entry visa. All good.

Then I go into the next area, where I found my bag and then into the next area where I expect Judy to meet me but as I was walking out the door there was so many people. They were all holding signs or just generally looking expectant. I didn't see Judy. So I stood there for a minute or two, pretty stunned, contemplating the fact that I didn't know where Judy was staying, had a phone number that didn't work, and no real way to contact her. Hmmm, maybe a backup plan might have been an idea. But right then, Suresh found me. Suresh is Judy's cab driver friend. I'm sure there will be many stories about Suresh to come. He took me to Judy and we got the hell out of there.

He took us to Kamat hotel. We arrived at 3AM, woke up the front desk guy. There were people sleeping everywhere, there were at least four outside on the front entrance and three in the lobby. The streets were absolutely deserted, no people, no cars, just sleeping dogs. Which all woke up and started barking the minute we got into bed. The room is very Mexico-esque. No shower, just a bucket and plastic cup but upscale in that the plastic cup is not a yogurt container, it is an actual store bought plastic cup.

Not the best bathroom but certainly not the worst either.

10 bucks a night. For two. I obviously fell right back into the life because Judy had to point out that there was no hot water. It didn't even register for me while I was 'showering' this morning.

"Do not urinate here' - the view from our window once daylight arrived.

I am wearing my Punjabi suit so it feels like being outside in my jammies. Why don't we wear these in Canada?

My first day, wearing my first Kurta and pant set (courtesy of Judy who had it made for me)

Today, Judy and I are just wandering around. We ate breakfast at the hotel. I had a Dosa, a fried pancakey thing with spicy stuff inside - my first meal involved potato! Which I ate - sort of. Anyway, even with the potato, it was delicious.

Judy enjoying her tiny coffee at my first breakfast. We soon learned to order two coffees at once - each.

Then we hit the shops. Someone remind me why I didn't bring that extra bag...

Bedspreads

Pillows

Silk!! So much silk!

Pomegranites on a fruit stand

Then lunch were I got some sort of Mushroom in 'gravy (curry sauce)' and Judy got Dal which was so tasty, I ate half of hers too.

I forgot to take a picture until almost the end.

Looking at our new purchases back in the room

Anyway, I think tomorrow we are heading out on some crazy cab/road trip with Suresh.

AAACK - last day.

2010-01-22T14:21:00.000-08:00

9 am
Got up. Ate left over curry for breakfast. Did I mention that Mom had an awesome Indian dinner for me and a few friends on Tuesday for my birthday/bon voyage. She and Chris outdid themselves - Chris' samosas were particularly noteworthy. Since I haven't shopped for about 10 days, this is what I am living on.

2:30 pm
My plan was to pack last night and then use today to buy anything that was missing. I did a prelim last night and it all seems pretty under control, so far, no last minute purchases required. I did call Val this morning and bribe her with Mom's left over butter chicken to come over tonight and make sure I am not missing anything too vital.

So, other than adding a few things now and then as I think of them (such as undies, that would have been unfortunate) I am doing little projects. For example, Air Canada sent me an email asking if I want to pre-check in. Sounds good but it involved printing, so I had to set up my printer. I had also read that one of the ways that thieves steal your stuff in India is to cut the strap of your bag from your shoulder and grab & run. So for my next project, I sewed a hook onto my small purse and my satchel so that they will be attached to me via mini carbiner even if the strap is severed. Smart, eh? Hopefully I won't have to let you know if it works. Another project; I wrote up address labels for postcards so that I don't have to carry my address book. Now I am drinking coffee and watching tv.

Last day project

4PM
a few more things added to the pile. Hmmm. Starting to look like alot. Remove two shirts. I want to be able to fit EVERYTHING in one bag so that I don't have too many bags hanging off me when I am on the move.

The pile

It all fits but just barely.

9:50
Val came over at 4:30 or so. She went through my first aid bag and used her nursing skills to convince me that fungus or a cold will not kill me so I don't need to bring stuff for those. Out went the eye drops, cold medicine, anti fungal, one of two antiseptics, half of my moleskin. I forwent the bathing suit and the extra bag - yes, one less bag. Then we went to the mall for a few things I needed; more mosquito spray, a glasses case and snacks for the plane. Mosquito spray good, snacks, no problem. Glasses case, not so easy. So now I am bringing my extra pair of glasses in a sock. Now my stuff is all packed, the carry on stuff is in the carry on, the checked stuff is in the big backpack, the purse stuff is in the purse.

Chris came over later to eat some left over rice pudding. By this time I had had two glasses of wine so I am kind of tipsy as I write this.

I still don't really have a plan for when I am there. Judy and I discussed a road trip for the first week or so and then a blitz trip to Delhi. But after that it's up in the air. I was going to tell you about my stolen travel philosophy. One day I was driving and listening to CBC. When I turned on the radio there was a woman speaking to Sheilah Rogers about her first trip to India. I have no idea what the subject was or who the woman was since I missed the beginning and the end. But she was talking about how she knew she wanted to go to India and experience the spiritual aspects of the country. She went to a talk with someone who had lived there and was giving a lecture on something or other. She went up to the microphone and asked him if he could give her some suggestions of where to go or Ashrams to visit. His answer to her was 'follow the pretense of accident'. She said she had no idea what he was talking about but it hit me that this was the perfect attitude to take. What ever is going to happen is what I will experience. Plans tend to get muddled there anyway, so I will follow the pretense of accident. (I just googled that phrase and here is an article about the woman, Sharon Salzberg, and the advise giver, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, if you want to know specifics - beware the super annoying music).

Now I am going to hook up the dishwasher and go to bed. I will have to get up early but just to tidy up. I think I am ready - knock on wood. I have saved one last portion of left over chicken curry for breakfast, Val took everything else in the fridge that was perishable.

8:30 AM
Just hanging out waiting to go. I was up at 6:30, did some laundry, planted some bulbs in the garden, tidied my room - sort of (side note, I found my glasses case but the sock takes up less room). Bag is packed, carry on is ready. Last of the left over curry is eaten and bowl washed. I guess this is it.

The next time I post anything, it will be from India. I don't think I will be able to upload pictures but I'll try. Look at Judy's for now. Thanks to Chris, Paul and Lea & Makenna for cat visits. And, just in case you were worried, Paul has offered to pick me up when I get in. We'll talk soon.

To Do - now mostly done.

2010-01-16T12:05:00.000-08:00

Here was my To Do list from this morning.

To Do. (in no particular order)
1. Buy travellers cheques
2. advise bank that I am leaving country
3. photocopy documents, scan documents so I have access through email
4. cut keys for cat visitors
5. Pack

I started writing the list and realized, why am I writing a list when I could just be doing some of the things. Who knew that procrastination is not always the most effective route. hmmmm.

So I called RBC and sorted out some stuff with debit & credit cards etc. Then I went to the bank and bought my traveller's cheques. Judy called me from India last night - more on that later - and said that she was having a hard time with the ATMs over there and that she basically is without cash. She recommended that I bring traveller's cheques as a back up in case I have trouble too.

I ended my productive day by getting keys cut and picking up my anti malarial medication from the Pharmacy and buying a few items suggested by Lea and Alisma. When I got home, I started packing. I made up a first aid kit (I bought a new bag for it.) It is so big it is ridiculous. I have everything in there. I could save a village with that bag. I also made up a little laundry pouch with laundry line, soap and sink plug. My bathroom bag is started, I am getting my clothes together. I even brought out my backpack. Unfortunately, I can't put anything in it yet.

A place to sleep or a desperate attempt to come with

So I am finally feeling less panicky. I searched out most of the stuff I want to bring, even if it isn't in the bag yet. (Although, I cannot for the life of me, find my outlet converter. Apparently, India is on 220 volt so I will have to look into that too.)

BTW, I just took my Dukoral booster dose and it is just as disgusting as it was last time. Judy was praising it though since she hasn't had any 'issues' so I guess I won't complain too much. I can still taste it though, yuk. And to add insult to injury, it is mixed with some sort of bicarbonate which makes the taste come back for several encores - if you know what I mean.

Lists

2010-01-13T22:30:00.000-08:00

I have received my first comment on my blog - from Alisma, the wonderful woman in Vancouver who gave me advise so many posts/months ago. By now I list her among my friends, what with me stalking her and trying to force her to come with me to India (she complained ever so slightly about her job and I pounced like a lion who senses a weak gazelle in the herd - ok, I pestered like a house cat who wants to be fed - but let's not quibble). Anyway, Alisma says I should write a list so I wrote a list.
See the power you could all have - if you leave a comment.

What to Pack

1. Clothes - I plan to get more there
a. 1 skirt
b. 1 pair of Capri pants
c. 1 pair long pants
d. 2 t-shirts (maybe 3)
e. 1 long sleeve shirt
f. undies
g. socks
h. fleece
i. hat
j. bathing suit
k. pajama pants
2. Shoes
a. runners
b. tevas
c. flip flops - for the shower
3. Bathroom bag
a. shampoo & conditioner & more conditioner - we are not having another Thai hair situation
b. soap & washcloth
c. toothbrush and toothpaste, floss
d. tweezers, clippers, hairbrush
e. lotion
f. Sunscreen
g. mosquito repellent- lots of repellent - I remembered that Elephantitis is caused by mosquitoes
h. personal items
i. multiple lip balms
j. hand sanitizer
k. baby wipes - Melissa's excellent suggestion
l. waterless soap for public washrooms (TP too)
m. lots of hair bands
n. ear plugs
4. Medications
a. anti malaria
b. pro-biotic stuff to counteract the anti malaria
c. the anti diarreal pills - hopefully not needed
d. Imodium
e. various anti-itch, antibiotic, antifungal - really, anti anything-icky creams
f. pain killer of some sort
g. anti histimines, gravol
h. bandaids, moleskin
i. afterbite lotion
5. Bird stuff
a. binoculars with case
b. bird book
c. note pad
d. several writing implements - I lose a lot of pens
6. Other books
a. India book
b. novel - undecided, something not complicated, many pages with small font
c. the awesome string book mark Amy made me for Christmas - I may have to try to make two more, so I'll have one for each book. Mine won't be as nice as Amy's though.
d. mini-Canada calendar (maybe)
7. Papers
a. passport
b. tickets
i. to Vancouver
ii. to Bangalore
iii. Return from Bangalore
iiii. Vancouver to Victoria
c. insurance stuff
8. Camera stuff
a. Fuji with case
b. extra memory card - XD
c. Canon with pouch
d. extra memory card - SD
e. recharger
f. 12 rechargeable batteries
g. electrical converter
9. Etc.
a. sunglasses with case
b. extra prescription glasses with case
c. glasses prescription
d. headlamp
e. additional mini-flashlight for pocket - Kudos to Alisma for this idea, power failures - I have been warned
f. watch with alarm
g. locks, one for bag, one for door.
h. door stop - recommended by my Women in India book
i. sleeping bag liner - still deciding on this one - decided, I bought one last night.
j. laundry line
k. mini sewing kit
l. travel towel.
m. ziplock baggies & dry bags
n. bottle opener
o. duct tape - i've never used it while traveling but it has to be there.
10. Bags
a. big backpack
b. small day pack
c. satchel
d. small purse
e. under-the-shirt pouch
f. fold up bag for extra souvenirs.
g. that's it for bags but I wanted to give a shout out to Lea who likely laughed when she saw how many bags I need - yes NEED!
11. On the plane bag - day pack
a. food
b. one change of clothes
c. magazine or the novel
d. small bathroom bag with basics
e. water bottle
f. binoculars, camera (depending on size limits - stupid underwear bomber)

Time for bed, but I will add my 'things to do before I go' list tomorrow.
I will probably add to this one too. (This list didn't seem like much until I scrolled through the whole thing, maybe I DO need another bag - if only Lea would let me buy one.)

Air Canada - if I don't have anything nasty to say, I should still say something (begrudgingly)

2010-01-11T14:35:00.000-08:00

As you will all remember from my first few blogs about buying my tickets, getting from Victoria to Vancouver and back again was going to be the most complicated part of my journey (booking wise at least). When I finally realized that I was going to be returning to Vancouver on Feb 20, it would be too late (8:30 pm)to get to the last ferry. This meant that my lovely friend Melissa would have to meet me at the airport, let me sleep at her place and get me to the ferry the next day all during Olympic mania. I realized that this was not acceptable, even if Melissa was game - not to mention all the to-ing and fro-ing for tired little me. So I started checking for a ticket back to Victoria.

I started with WestJet but they don't fly between Vancouver and Victoria. Then I tried Air Canada. Tickets for every other day for two weeks before and after my return date were $72 +taxes. For Feb 20th - $207!! I tried other, less obvious airlines. Too dark to fly Harbour Air. I checked Alaska but you have to originate outside of Canada (who knew?). Then I checked Horizon Air. I got very excited that there was a ticket for 50ish bucks. Booked it, hit submit and immediately realized that the flight was for 11:30 AM not PM. I called them right away and they were lovely, cancelled the whole transaction without any penalties.

So, left with only one option, I bookmarked Air Canada and checked it everyday. Then, one fine day, Feb 20 prices dropped from $207 to $72 so I booked it right away. I am flying back to Victoria at 11:45 pm (arriving 12:15 am). Not that I am providing this very specific info in case some kind Victoria soul wants to pick me up (cough cough - volunteer sign up list posted on my fridge).

Me flying to Vancouver on Jan 23rd

So this got me thinking. Maybe it might be easier to fly to Vancouver too, instead of busing it. So last night I looked online for a flight over. It was going to cost almost $100. I left it so I could think about it. So today, I thought about it. I could leave home a couple of hours earlier if I flew and since I haven't even begun to pack (or even pre-pack or even write a list of what to pack), those couple of hours may be essential. So I signed back onto Air Canada today and low and behold, the ticket is now only $39!! ($68 with taxes). That is comparable to the bus. So I booked. Then, just to proverbially poke at the sore Air Canada tooth, I checked Feb 20 to see if those tickets were on sale too. But they weren't. The only seats left for that flight were $157, so that made me happy to be so smart (S.M.R.T).

Me flying back to Victoria on Feb 20 (in the dark)

So much has happened in the last two months...

2010-01-07T17:06:00.001-08:00

Yeah yeah, I know, I haven't updated in forever. And the last post really wasn't about my trip, I have been properly chastised.

Ok, I admit it. I was avoiding updating because for a while there my pre-trip excitement was dampened somewhat. Let me explain. As you all know (from previous posts and non-stop India chatter) my plan was to meet Judy at the Bangalore airport at 2 am where she was going to take me under her now India-experienced wing. She will have been in India approx 6 weeks at that point. But then, sometime in early December, Judy got some bad news on the medical front. After discussions with her doctor etc, she decided she just couldn't go to India. She let me know as soon as she had made her decision (at an Indian charity event for those of you who like irony).

Of course, I was upset for Judy. She had really been looking forward to her trip and she might have bad stuff going on. However, I will admit that thoughts of my own plight did enter my mind not too long after my thoughts of Judy's plight. I never said I was perfect.

I was going to be landing in Bangalore in the middle of the flippin night!! Alone!!Priscilla was not too keen to meet me so I was going to be on my own. Now, I have travelled alone before and survived, I knew that it would be alright. I would just have to find a place to stay ahead of time, get a cab, and get some sleep and I would be good to go in a day or two. But, maybe I am getting old, I was having a hard time readjusting my idea of what my trip was going to be like without Judy there. And, because we are all friends here, maybe I was a little (I will only admit to a little) scared.

I hit up a few of my friends who had mildly expressed interest/jealousy about the trip. None of them could come. That is when I stopped posting updates. I wasn't sure if I could be excited and, even harder, sound excited. Thus, the lack of blog.

But wait, there is still a happy ending to this sad tale. After a few weeks, some doctor discussions, some soul searching, Judy decided to ignore the medical issues until after her trip. So, drum rolllllll, she called me up and announced that she was going. Yeaaaahhhh. She said she may not be able to travel around as much as she had hoped and was going to treat the trip as a form of relaxation, hanging out at spas, ashrams and retreats. She wasn't sure about the side trips so I may be on my own for those. But she would still meet me at the airport. Yeaaahhh. For some reason, the idea of that airport was too much for me to handle mentally.

So, back on track. Judy, who I would like to note, is a worse procrastinator than me, had to fast track her passport (which she hadn't ordered because she wasn't going). Then, once that was done, she needed an Indian entrance visa. So did I but I had more time. Judy was leaving on Dec 16th (or so) and only had a week to get the visa. So she called me up on Thursday afternoon at work (I had plans that evening so no time to get ready - I filled out the application at work and got my visa photo on my lunch hour and my registered envelope on the way to my event) to see if I wanted to come to Vancouver with her to hand the visa application in in person on Friday (which happened to be a day off for me). The Indian Consulate is in downtown Vancouver. She and I had different forms. Mine said we had to be there by noon or they wouldn't accept it until the next day. Judy's form said 2:30. Just to be safe (heaven forbid that either of us call them to confirm) we caught the 9am ferry. We drove to town and parked under some mall at exactly 11:53. We ran, Judy's GPS on overdrive because neither of us had any sense of where we were in relation to the Consulate. we still went the wrong way but our looks of confusion solicited a kindly stranger to point us in the right direction. We made it, my time stamp was 11:58, Judy's 11:59. HA! Of course, because we made it, the big sign in the waiting area said the cut off time was 2:30 but I still felt victorious.

Judy at the Indian Consulate

Me at the Consulate - note the submission deadline of 2:30

We had to bring a filled out application, our passport, two passport sized visa photos, and a registered envelope so they could send the visaed passport back to me (Judy opted to go back to the Consulate to pick hers up - time constraints and all). As soon as you get in the door, a very stern looking guard checks your stuff (and your paperwork too - hahaha, I crack me up). As I mentioned, Judy and I had different forms because I was using some old site that was being maintained by who know who - not the Indian Consulate. So the stern but nice guard cut my pictures to the proper size, stapled them in place, there was tape involved too but I can't remember why...

Amusing story about this photo. I had brought my big camera with me but I could tell that wasn't going to fly in the waiting room so I got Judy to take this picture and the next one with her cell phone. There was a big huge sign that said "NO CELL PHONES" right there on the wall. But being a goer, Judy took the picture. Just as she did, someone else's phone beeped and guard looked at the group and bellowed "No Cell Phones!!!" I thought Judy was going to pee herself. I laughed like a hyena though so it was all worth it.

We had to wait over an hour to be called to the counter for our check over. I could tell from the wait that Judy was going to be awesome to travel with. She and I were chit chatting with pretty much everyone in our vicinity. We got some interesting tips (none of which I remember) and met other tourists, people who go every year, a guy who was an Indian/Nepalese who gave Judy his doctor-sister's phone number, one blow-hard who was ignored as best as possible, and one girl who was trying to get a business visa (unsuccessfully in the end).

Number 923 please, 923. ARGGGGG.

Eventually we made it up to the front to speak to the nice gentleman who looked at the 9 dollar registered envelope I brought and said it just wouldn't do. I mentioned that the website I was checking (this is where I learned it was being maintained by monkeys) said this would be sufficient. And by the way, did I mention it cost 9 bucks! He took it but he had a look like 'don't blame me if your passport never arrives, stupid white girl'.

Lunch and Ikea and then back on the ferry to end a very full and fun day. Judy went back the following Thursday to pick hers up and mine arrived in my mailbox (crappy envelope - ha!) the very same day (I'm sure, much to Judy's chagrin).

I will stop there. One wants to leave the audience with something to anticipate. I will follow up later with the story of the Indian Charity Event and my stolen philosophy for my trip. Oh yeah, there is another Air Canada story too.

Photography on the west coast

2009-11-20T21:01:00.000-08:00

Instead of reading my India book or booking hotels or some other productive vacation planning activity, I am taking a Nature and Travel Photography class. When I am in school and have homework due, this is what I call busy work (quasi homework). I appear to be preparing but in fact am not.

Anyway, my current vacation busy work is that I am learning to take awesome travel photographs. At least that is what I thought would happen when I signed up for the course. What I discovered is that I have no idea how my camera works or really how to take a decent picture. The course description did mention that I should have taken an introductory photography class but I figured - how hard can it be to take a picture. Well, let me tell you, I will never again look at photos in a gallery and say 'I can do that'. Everything is F stop or ISO or shutter speed. I'm not even going to get into lighting and shadowing and extra lenses and filters and who knows what all else. I pretty much stop paying attention when the instructor starts talking about anything that isn't already stuffed into the camera itself. (Cause there is no way I am spending any more money on anything else that might get nicked). But that still leaves those shutters, ISOs (don't ask me what that stands for) and aperture. APERTURE for the love of god!! First day - he starts up with the depth of field and motion and light etc and I have no idea what he is saying about all of the above mentioned mysteries. But I am smart (I think to myself) so I can figure this out. So I nod wisely for two hours and go home and crack open my camera manual. I know, I know, who goes to a photography class without reading the manual... Anyway, my little book tells me how to adjust my shutter speed and aperture and what not but it doesn't tell me why. I need to know WHY!!

One exciting thing I learned about my camera while reading my manual in bed was how to take Macro (close up) shots. Gingy Puss was the unhappy model for that revelation. Like a haughty supermodel, she didn't enjoy her shoot but she looks gorgeous.

Saturdays are our field trips. So the first Saturday we met at Beacon Hill. Our mission, composition. Armed with my new knowledge of how to speed up and show down my shutter speed and adjust my aperture (when I say knowledge, I mean at midnight, the night before, I skimmed the manual, said 'holy cow, who knew my cheap camera had so many functions' and fell asleep), I tried to adjust everything wilynily. Every time I adjusted something, I ended up with a black screen. It seems that shutter speed and aperture effect each other (in some unknown way). Plus, everything is backwards, the bigger the number, the smaller the aperture, the smaller the fraction, the faster the shutter speed. Too many variables! Too many variables!! Plus, if it wasn't bad enough, I added my tripod that I could barely figure out.

Did I mention it was pouring rain too. So I was trying to do all of this with an umbrella and my camera encased in a ziplock baggie with a hole cut out for the lens.HaveI mentioned the plethora of variables. The PLETHORA! But for all that I did take a couple of half decent pictures. At the beginning of the next class, we critiqued some of each other's work. I submitted two for comments.

Here is the photo that I took that the class liked.

And this one - not so much. At least it had stopped raining by then.

The next field trip was to Goldstream but I must admit, it was raining again on that Saturday so I didn't go. Tomorrow, the next trip, is to Witty's Lagoon. And guess what. It is supposed to rain. I will cut the hole in my baggie tonight to save time in the morning.

But, despite the rain, the class is interesting and gives some good tips on taking better pictures (I would get in trouble for saying 'taking pictures' we are 'creating images' cough cough). So today I bought a Digital Photography for Dummies book - in colour, no less. That way I might be able to catch up on what the heck an ISO is and how it affects my aperturittude. Let's all see if I actually read it or just skim it and fall asleep. Of course, I could be reading it now but you will notice that I am updating my blog instead. The sacrifices I make for you people...

Pictures from Witty`s Lagoon

Bite Me with Dr. Mike Leahy (India episode) is NOT about food!!

2009-10-26T19:37:00.000-07:00

So, more research. My next research project was very enjoyable. I went to Vancouver and met up with Melissa's friend Alisma (who is awesome by the way). She has been to India twice and she was willing to have dinner with me and discuss some tips and ideas. She was very positive about both trips. She backed up what my book had said. Occasional inappropriate touching and disconcerting staring but nothing too too bad. She and her companions weren't robbed or assaulted. People were friendly, the food delish etc. Travel was inconsistent and prices cheap. Excellent tip: in the south, hotel means restaurant. Always just ask for lodging to avoid confusion. Good stuff. Alisma brought pictures and the scenery is amazing. She has visited both the North and South so she has lots of places that she recommended and a few to avoid. I am keen on the camel safari (once I research the state of the animals well being) in the North and a backwater boat trip in the south. Are both possible? - that remains to be determined. Stay tuned for itinerary updates. I have now spent several hours with my nose in my Lonely Planet India and am realizing just how big a place India is. For comparison's sake, from what I can tell - Camels = Vancouver and Backwater Boat = Toronto. Bit of a distance. One month - can I do it??

So, all excited about my trip again, I get home and sit down to watch a show I had taped, Bite Me with Dr. Mike Leahy. I thought it was about foods of India. The Dr. part should have tipped me off. Not about food, Dr. Mike is a virologist who likes parasites.

The parasitic worm called the Ascaris

In fact he seems to like them so much he actually drank from the Ganges and had a little swim about. I could barely watch. Surprise, surprise, we then got to watch him take a stool sample to a clinic because he had 'an upset tummy' which changed to diarrhea, gas and bloating when he was talking to the doctor. It seems he has giardia. I figure he got off lucky. But that was far from the worst things he showed us. Alisma mentioned that she didn't like the monkeys. I have tried to keep a healthy respect and distance whenever I have seen them as well. Not so Dr. Mike. He was telling us about the many diseases they carry while sitting in a temple dedicated to monkeys. I expected the rabies but apparently they also have a form of herpes that causes brain swelling and goopy eyes (perhaps not listed in order to importance). The best part though was that as he was talking to us, a monkey attacked him and bit him. No trip to the clinic this time, fortunately it bit his pocket with a notepad inside. He looked scared though as he dropped his pants to check for punctures ( we saw way to much of this guy with his pants down or off but that is another issue).

Monkey Attack!!! Watch out for the shifty eyes.

Ok, so we have rabid dogs, treatable if quick enough; crazy monkeys, hopefully avoidable; body lice, wash your clothes with hot water; scabies, itchy but unlikely to kill me if I have a healthy immune system; round worms growing in my gut, some quick anti-parasite medicine before they enter my heart; leeches, no swimming in swamps. All good, I can live with any of those. It was the elephanitis that got me. It is caused by worms that breed in your lymph nodes. It makes your limbs swell up, well, like an elephant. And it is incurable.

Elephanititis. 'nough said.

It has only been a half hour since the show ended and I have already forgotten how to contract or avoid that parasite. Clearly, I will have to re-watch Dr. Mike. For some reason, I feel itchy.

A quick end note. I looked up the website for Dr. Mike's show and found his blog about his trip to India. There, I learned that the the giardia was not just a bit of discomfort and the quick fix he mentioned on the show. Apparently, he pooped himself mid-filming while in a crowd of people. Further reinforcement for my decision not to drink from the Ganges!! although he thinks it might have been unwashed fruit - harder to avoid but good to know.

Research - not for the weak of spirit

2009-10-08T12:49:00.001-07:00

I finally got my Lonely Planet India book but I haven't had a chance to crack it open yet. I know it is going to take a lot of time. And a lot of space.

Lovely Melissa, always so thoughtful, gave me a big (BIG) map of India that is specifically designed for planning your trip. I know it is going to be fully spread out with post-its at the ready for when I start Lonely Planeting.

What I have read so far is Wanderlust and Lipstick for Women Traveling in India. The linked review calls it a pre-guidebook guidebook. Too true. It doesn't really tell me anything about specific places. But it is full of advise on how to behave and what to expect. The chapter on Indian Men was eye opening. Basically, never be alone in a room with a man, don't look a man in the eye, don't where sleeveless shirts or you will be presumed a prostitute etc etc. Always assume that whatever you say, any gestures or basic North American politeness will be taken as some sort of sexual invitation. Female tourists will be generally ignored or harassed. Book advise - learn to avoid what can be avoided and live with what can't.

This was really only a couple of cautionary pages. Overall the book was very positive about travelling solo in India. One just has to be ready for transportation delays and impromptu festivals where people throw things at you. I think my time in Mexico will work as a primer for living in a slow moving culture. The book also mentioned (numerous times) that the people are beyond friendly and tourists will have lots of opportunities to meet Indian folk who will invite them to their homes for visits and meals. All good (unless the invitation comes from a man).

It also has interesting advice about what to wear and where to buy appropriate clothes. How to get around and how to find safe and cheap transportation - trains, cabs, cars for hire, in country flights. There was even a bird watching mention!

So I am trying not to let my pre-guide guide book scare me too much. Especially since I didn't start reading it until after I had already bought my ticket.

Shots, drinks and pills - Maybe we need rehab instead of vacation.

2009-09-22T13:03:00.000-07:00

So Judy and I went to Nova Travel Clinic on Friday. It turned into quite the epic event, almost two hours with the nurse. I figured I must be almost immune to every travel issue on the planet by now but not so apparently.

Judy was starting fresh so she got two shots, Twinrix for Hep A&B and tetanus. I got the Twinrix to complete my Hep A, I have to go for my last booster for Hep B after I get back. We are both good for polio, rubella etc. India doesn't have Yellow Fever so I didn't need to worry about whether or not mine was still active from our Africa trip. My typhoid shot was only good for two years so I have to update that. Judy and I both decided to go for the drinkable version which is good for 4 years but apparently it is quite the regiment. Drink, day off, drink, day off, drink, day off, last drink on day 7. No food before or after, keep refrigerated. I can barely remember to go to work for a whole week, this is going to be a challenge. I think that is why they usually just do the two year shot. They even gave us a reminder bracelet (although I will just look like I am supporting Lance Armstrong) and stickers and a magnet. I wish it came with reminder phone calls too. We know who to blame if I get typhoid - Lance Armstrong!!

There was much discussion about Japanese Encephalitis, a mosquito borne nasty that is in India. Apparently there is a one in a million chance of getting it. We would have to be hanging out for extended periods in rural areas and living in a barn with the livestock, eating live mosquito salad. Plus the vaccination is almost $400 (!) for three (!) shots (!). I will be there for a shorter time than Judy so it was a no-brainer for me - no thank you. But Judy wisely weighed all of the factors and then also rejected it. I think it was the discussion about the brain swelling side effects (you lost me at "don't fly for 14 days after the last shot or you could die because they can't get you to a hospital fast enough to save you")

Then the standard rabies talk, don't touch dogs, don't play with bats (although what if I want to hang out with cricket players?). Even cats are off limits. I know they can't be serious about that though, because who can say no to a kitten, even a rabid one, if it is fluffy and big eyed.

No surgery, sex, dental work, manicures, knife fights, intravenous drugs, eye poking, vampirism. So many rules. I can handle those but the food restrictions are too much. Don't eat at street vendors (phsshh, whatever), don't eat raw veg, ice cubes, under cooked meat, eggs, food of any sort, beverages of any sort, water. I can say already that I will ignore most of that. I think Val and I were in Thailand only a few hours before we were buying food from a moving buffet table in the street in Bangkok. I can pretty much guarantee that the temperatures on that did not meet food safe recommended levels.

Cholera - something to avoid

Which leads me to the Dukoral. E-coli in a cup. Yes, despite my whining about the disgusting flavour, I will be partaking again. I only need one dose this time so at least that is better. Judy gets the full two fizzy-lisious doses.

Dukoral - poop in a cup.

Plus we each got a prescription for the don't-die-of-dehydration anti-diarheal pills but the ones I got for Africa haven't expired yet. Knock on wood, I haven't had to take them yet.

I got my ticket and it was almost painless!!

2009-09-01T21:12:00.000-07:00

So after speaking to Ms. RBC Travel yesterday, I called them on my lunch hour (I use the term lunch HOUR loosely as this story will show). I called up new RBC guy, Abdoul. Abdoul was very pleasant and looked at the 1700 flight that I had discussed the night before. He called the 'consolidators' and was able to save me a couple of hundred bucks. Excellent. But there was no way around the overnight in Delhi. So, I said I would do it as long as I could check my bag all of the way through to Bangalore. That way I would only get robbed of my carry on. He checked and found that, no, I would have to keep my bag with me overnight in the airport and then check whatever was still in my possession in the morning onto my connecting flight to Bangalore. He suggested that there might be lockers at the Delhi airport but then he had the decency to laugh at his own suggestion. I said I would rather just buy my ticket through Flight Network and save my points if this was my only option.

Just for fun I searched for images of the Delhi Airport, Instead I found the The Guide to Sleeping in Airports website who gave Dehli the title "past worst airport winner".

After an hour of me rejecting options and whining about Delhi, Abdoul moved up several notches in the best phone service ever poll. He suggested that maybe a Vancouver departure might work. I had sort of rejected that option earlier when I was doing my own online search for tickets. I had found that to fly out of Vancouver would cost several hundred dollars more than from Victoria and I would have to get to Vancouver to boot. But at this point, I figured if it cost a bit more, it would be worth it so that I could avoid the whole Delhi issue. So Abdoul ticky ticked away on his computer for many minutes of silence and announced that he had found a ticket from Vancouver that got me into Bangalore at 1:30 AM. I don't even have to land in Delhi. Excellent. So then Awesome Abdoul asked if I wanted to know the price. He seemed almost giddy. It was three hundred dollars cheaper than the overnight Dehli option!! By now Abdoul and I were old buds so we had a over the phone high five. It turns out I am booked on the Lufthansa flight from my first attempt, the one that cost $3000 yesterday. But the consolidators came through for me. Abdoul checked the price without the consolidator and it was still almost 3K but with the consolidators, less than $1500 minus my $1200 in points = only $240 out of my pocket. Yeah!!!

I can't seem too happy here so I will add a Air Canada rant just because I can. When Abdoul went in to see if he could book my seats, he said that he could reserve my seat from Frankfurt to Bangalore because it was with Lufthansa however the Van to Toronto and Toronto to Frankfort legs he couldn't reserve because the actual airline is Air Canada. Arrrrg. Stupid Air Canada doesn't let you reserve ahead. Many of you may remember my last encounter with AC so you will know I wasn't too keen about flying with them but the price is right so I will survive (hopefully).

Before we locked in the booking, I had Abdoul check how much it would be to throw on a connector from Victoria to Vancouver since I was going to be on Air Canada anyway. Ok, remember, my ticket from Van to India is $1485. Add in Victoria to Vancouver - drum rollll - $2300+. $800 more!. Honestly. Another good laugh with my new best friend Abdoul. One more travel agent to add to the list of AC haters. We are legion. Any way, Abdoul checked the price of a ticket from Victoria to Vancouver without the official connector status. Air Canada price - almost $500. I would rather swim there than pay that so I left that leg of my journey open for now.

So, e-ticket in email inbox, I finally officially requested my previously unofficial vacation time and it was officially approved by Lynda and all is well in the world except for an extra long lunch 'hour'. I will make up the time, I promise.

Next on my to do list - travel clinic. I can't wait for the liquid e-coli raspberry delight beverage mix - yum.

my vacation time is sort of approved, now I just need tickets

2009-08-31T17:05:00.000-07:00

Let me start at the beginning. My friend Judy From Work (abbreviated to Judy from now on) told me a couple of months ago that she is going to India for two months this winter (Dec/Jan/early Feb). I, as always with other's vacations, was wildly covetous. I jokingly suggested that I should join her in January. Wait, let's go back a bit more. Judy is going to India because she has a friend, Priscilla, who has an apartment in Bangalore (in the south). Priscilla was going to India from August to (not sure of return date but 6 months or so) in order to sell her stuff and give up her apartment. Judy realized that this was likely her last chance to visit Priscilla in India so she took extra time off work, wangdangled her vacation days over two years (end of 2009, beginning of 2010 - so smart) and is booked to go. Now back to me and my very unsubtle hints about wanting to join in. Judy thought this was a fine idea. I had dinner with Priscilla, who read my previous travel blogs as a form of travel-companion resume, and she agreed that it would be ok if I showed up too. I have to say, very gracious of her since I will likely be crashing on her floor (apparently with the bugs and monkeys - MONKEYS! India is a whole different world). I plan to stay a week or so after Judy leaves and bum around wherever the mood strikes me.

Ok, so that is how and why I am off to India. It has taken me these two months to get my act together because of my recent job change. I had to wait to know which job I would be in so that I knew which boss/co-workers to ask for time off. I now have my new job and my lovely new boss said ok to time off in Jan/Feb and my colleagues were kind enough not to want the same time off. All good eggs.

So, here is what I have done so far. You can see my priorities from this.
First - bought India bird book. yeeeeeee (6 weeks ago)
Second - had vacation time verbally approved (two weeks ago)
Third - created Blog (last night)
Fourth - pre ordered new Lonely Planet India Book - due out Sept 15 (last night)
Fifth - tried to order airline tickets (today)

Which, to make a long preamble even longer, is the subject of my first blog entry: trying to redeem my RBC points to buy a plane ticket. Unfortunately, it will be an ongoing saga, I can tell already.

Let me say right off the bat, RBC ticket agents have so far been very helpful and friendly (I haven't forgotten you, Air Canada agent!). I called one of the RBC agents a week or two ago just to find out the lay of the land. I don't have the fancy dancy Avion card, I just have the regular gold card.

Not my actual card

I have approx $1200 worth of points toward a ticket (that only took 10 years) but I have to book my ticket through the RBC travel centre. I figured this would be the best time to use them since I will be flying alone. Mr. RBC said to find a ticket online and call them to book it. It sounded so easy but I know better than that. But one has to try. So today, work is over and I am staying late at the office to deal with this. RBC travel closes at 6 pm so no time to go home first.

A small digression: While searching for tickets I have discovered that flying into Bangalore involves three options. 1. arrive mid day but pay much more. 2. arrive middle of the night and pay less. 3. over night in Delhi - aacck - who cares what it costs - I don't want it.

Back to my ticket search. So I go online, find a connecting flight with Lufthansa through Toronto and Frankfurt, arriving at Bangalore at 1:30 AM for $1576. (Another kudos to Judy and Priscilla who are willing to meet me at the airport in the wee hours). This is good, no overnight and it will only cost me a few hundred bucks over the $1200 I have in points. So I call RBC, nice lady, who punches in the particulars of my desired flight. The price she gets (they have to go directly through the airline, not through Flight Network) is almost $3000! That would cost me all of my points and plus more actual cash than I would pay if I booked directly through flight network. So, a big NO on that. Ms. RBC looked around and found a ticket for $1700 but it included the dreaded overnight in Delhi. hmmmm. Now I have to think. But nice Ms. RBC suggested I call in the morning and ask about 'Consolidators'. What does this mean? I do not know. Apparently, there are agencies (?), people (?), airlines (?) who offer even cheaper tickets that RBC can purchase. Is anyone else imagining a guy in a black overcoat in the alley - "psst, psst, I have a ticket for you pretty lady, almost free". So, I will call tomorrow and see what I can buy out of some travel agent's Econovan with the stolen plates. What can go wrong!!