Memories Frozen In Time

The long awaited photos from our trip are now available for your viewing pleasure. It was difficult going through 2000 photos and dwindling our cache down to the very best, but we did it and we hope you'll appreciate only having to view 1300 of the most spectacular (and sometimes repetitive) photos. Enjoy!!
India
Nepal : Kathmandu and Pokhara
Nepal: Annapurna Trek
Nepal: Everest Base Camp Trek

To my perfect travel partner

Thank you for handling all the haggling in India, allowing the mid-range hotel splurge when I was tired of cold showers and squat toilets, for letting me eat your meals when what I ordered was disgusting, for letting us hire a porter so I wouldn't complain about my heavy bag all those miles of trekking, for buying a Toblerone when I had had enough of Dal Bhat, for waking up and chatting with me when I couldn't sleep, for letting me have the best seat on our cramped India trains, for all this and so much more, Thank you.

I cannot wait for our next adventure.

Gear Review

Not wanting to carry my extremely heavy hiking boots, I decided to get something that I could both wear and carry through the shit-filled streets of India (where flip flops don't cut it) and hike through cold, wet, and snowy Nepal.
After walking through human and cow feces covered Indian streets and hiking 270 miles through the Himalayan mountains I must say that I was quite happy with these shoes. The North Face Ultra 104 GTX XCR are heavy trail runners that don't look completely stupid (like most running shoes) and allowed me to hike through snow, rain and mud. The heavy sole and gortex lining kept me stable and dry. I got a few blisters, but that's bound to happen any time you hike 10+ miles per day. Check 'em out here, cause they are worth it.

Underwear while traveling is always a hassle. It starts smelling like shit (literally, not figuratively) after a few days of hot and humid weather or long days of hiking. On a whim, I bought a pair of Exofficio boxers that had the tag line "6 months, 60 countries, 1 pair of underwear." It wasn't just a ploy. Even though I brought 3 pairs of underwear with me I wore these 9 days of every 10. On that tenth day I usually went commando. The underwear dried in hours after a thorough sink-wash and didn't retain smell - a must for those long days of hiking. If you are planning some months abroad or just hate changing your underwear from day to day, I highly suggest them.

Mylinh wants to give a shout out to her light trail hikers. The North Face Hedgehog GTX XCR treated her well - she especially like that the light color helped her spot leaches creeping up to her ankle. She escaped much more blister-free than myself (men are supposed to get calluses) and her soles gripped like no other, even on the slippery Everest base camp rocks. If you're a chick, check 'em here.

Bookshelf

The one form of entertainment on the trail was reading. Here's a list of the books we read and our recommendations.

On the Road Jack Kerouac - A timeless classic. I didn't fully appreciate it when I first read it in high school, so I must suggest a second read after you've actually had some experience being out on the road. The joys and struggles of endless, aimless travel are beautifully captured and the historical context of Kerouac's post-WWII America is worth exploring. Highly recommended.

Dharma Bums Jack Kerouac - Another classic novel that inspired the "rucksack revolution" - essentially hippies leaving the streets of San Francisco and tramping through the mountains making up ridiculous haikus and drinking too much cheap wine. Best read while in, or dreaming of, the back country. The highly poetic prose makes for a fun read, but it gets a little ridiculous. Recommended.

The Last Lion: Winston Churchill, Alone 1932-1940 William Manchester - One of my favorite books of all time. A masterfully written biography of one of the central figures of the first half of the twentieth century. The author expertly weaves together quotes from personal letters, government documents and previously unexplored diaries to make an extremely captivating tale of Churchill's life. Even more interesting, the author provides the gripping historical background, which includes the build up of WWII generally and Britain's inside political follies allowing Hitler to invade half of Europe. Best read in conjunction with the first book in this two part biography, The Last Lion: Winston Spencer Churchill, Visions of Glory. Highly recommended.

Crime and Punishment Fyodor Dostoevsky - A book picked up on a whim just before an 11 day trek. It ended up being a highly readable classic that was fairly entertaining. At best it was a novel that delves into the depths of the human mind after a calculating murder and a look at Dostoevsky's critique of 18th century Russian utilitarian philosophy. At worst, it was a moderately interesting crime thriller. If you're looking for a classic, I'd recommend it, but otherwise I'd look elsewhere.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance Robert Pirsig - A novel loved by some, but not by me. Essentially, a megalomaniac's tale of his and his son's motorcycle trip across the country as a background to an explanation to his shallow and plagiarised philosophical theories. The theories are largely lifted from eastern philosophy (like Taoism and Buddhism) and became so repetitive that it seems the author thinks people will accept his theories if he just keeps repeating them in tedious verbosity. The author comes across as arrogant and his philosophical system is mediocre at best and completely unoriginal. The Buddhist doctrine of Zen is not discussed at all and any discussion of motorcycle maintenance is glib. Not recommended.

To The Lighthouse Virginia Woolf - Supposedly one of the best novels ever written. One of the first to be described as using a "modernist" style and stream of consciousness prose. The book was an odd read. Every page took time to read and comprehend, but at 154 pages it never seemed insurmountable. The book explores human relationships among family and friends at their most basic levels while also showing the changing roles of women after Britain's Victorian Era. I was hesitant to read it at first, but now that I'm done, I'm glad I did. Recommended.

Sophie's World Josten Gardener - A novel that provides a outline of the history and theories of western philosophy that was both easy and fun to read. Written at a junior high school level, the book was a quick read and gave me a much needed update on the basic ideas of every western philosopher from Socrates to Sartre. I was disappointed by the inadequate coverage of my personal favorite Nietzsche, but life will go on. Recommended.

Lonely Planet Nepal - Good book; lots of up to date information, but the writers didn't do Nepal justice. The country is absolutely amazing. The scenery epic, the people nice and the food cheap and good. The book's dry tone downplays many of Nepal's greatest assets. Use the guide book, but be prepared for awesomeness far beyond the written descriptions.

Lonely Planet India - This book has the opposite problem that the Nepal Lonely Planet suffered from. The writers of the India guidebook make every place in India sound like these spiritual meccas of friendly people and good food. We found this to be nothing but hyperbole. Take everything written with a grain of salt and don't expect the magical place that these (clearly doped-up) writers describe. On a better note, the information regarding hotels and restaurants was decent and up-to-date. Be careful of hidden fees for any tourist activity (like visiting forts, mosques, etc.), the guidebook failed to mention some of these costs.

EBC

We bit our nails and nearly peed our paints anxiously waiting for our plane to Lukla, the trail head of the Everest Base Camp trek. This was try number three and Mylinh said that if we didn't get there on the third try then it was a bad omen and she wasn't going.

That wasn't a concern though because we walked out on the runway (for the second time) and boarded our two propeller plane and got into the air. The flight was a little bumpy (you feel everything in a small plane) and the landing was a little scary as it was a short uphill runway that ended with a flat dirt hill that the plane could potentially crash into. I thought the flight was fine, but those with even a slight flying phobia might feel differently.

The details of the Everest trek were very similar to those of Annapurna, so I'll refrain from repeating myself too much. As to be expected, the mountains were beautiful, the people friendly, the porters amazing, and the hikes challenging.

The only day that probably deserves particular attention is the day we actually hiked out to Everest Base Camp. First we got up a 7am to hike into Gorak Shep, the village before EBC. We got there around 10am and had an early lunch. Our guide insisted on getting on the trail to EBC by 11am because the weather can be treacherous later in the afternoon. He was right. Within an hour of hiking to the camp it started to snow. Usually, snow is not an issue. We lived in Boston, we've walked in the snow before - nothing to worry about. However, the hike to EBC is up and down (called "Nepali Flat") and requires jumping rock to rock. This poses a problem with slippery snowflakes.

I should also mention that the last 45 minutes of the 2.5hr hike is on rocks that are on top of the Khumbu Glacier. This means that the rocks we are jumping on are resting on ice and often covered in ice. As we hiked, the snow began falling harder and harder. It was cold, but not unbearable, so we kept moving toward base camp. In the end, base camp looked a lot like the trail 30 minutes before base camp - essentially, a big pile of rocks, except that at base camp there are tents set up for the people preparing to ascend Everest. At about this time Mylinh got a stomach ache, followed by an urge to take care of some business - let's just say that she definitely left her mark on EBC.

By the time we got to the camp the snow was really coming down. As there isn't much to do but take a picture of some tents and grab some rocks as souvenirs (the only ones I got the whole trip, so don't expect nice presents) we spent less than a half hour at base camp. Luckily, the LIG South Korean Expedition team was preparing to summit Everest so there were actually tents and people at the camp; sometimes base camp is just a pile of rocks.

We headed back to our tea house and were glad to do so, as the snow kept getting worse. By the time we got back we could barely see 15 ft in front of us. Thankfully, our guide knew the way.

The rest of the trek was good, but also a little boring because we went down on the same trail we went up. However, now that the busy trekking season had started we did get a chance to meet a cool group of travelers consisting of canadiens, a recent GW law grad, a doctor from Germany and a couple crazy brits (one of the brits' father wrote the song "Downtown"). Once we joined the bunch it was definitely a motley crew.

At the end of the trek we were very glad to have done it, but were very donewith trekking, as we had been doing it for 26 days. We were craving all sorts of random food (a taco bell mexican pizza for Mylinh) and just wanted to get back to civilization - namely, Kathmandu. Of course things didn't work out as perfectly as we had hoped. The day we were supposed to fly out of Lukla the weather went from bad to worse and only four of seventeen flights took off. We were stuck once again, but this time in a small mountain town. Luckily, some of the friends we had met on the trail got stuck as well so we all bought bottles of whiskey and some overpriced cokes and sat in some random room behind a storefront and drank away our sorrows. Looking back it was a lot of fun, but we wetre pretty annoyed at the time.

I must make a specific mention of the terrible airline - Agni Airlines - we flew and how they screwed us. After having our flight cancelled we assumed (wrongly) that they would give us priority to fly out the next day. Our guide made it clear to them that we had to catch a flight later that afternoon. The first (of two) Agni planes landed and we all rushed to go outside, but in all their wisdom the airline decided to let passengers who did not have a previous flight cancelled go ahead of us. Then when the second plane came the weather got worse in Kathmandu and that plane couldn't take off. We were pissed. Both, Mylinh and I, and our guide started yelling at the pilot as he got out of the plane to drink his fucking tea. After much frustration and arguing the airline finally sent a different plane to pick us up that could handle the bad weather. It was a shitty experience and I warn everybody to NEVER fly Agni Airlines into Lukla. Try Yeti Airlines instead, all their flights took off fine.

As for a comparison of Annapurna and EBC, there were more similarities than differences. Overall, I probably liked Annapurna better because of the significant changes in scenery throught the trek and because it was our first. We thought that the hiking was more challenging on Annapuran and that the mountain villages were more authentic. The villages along the EBC trail felt constructed solely for the purpose of tourism. Everest probably had better views of mountain peaks and, of course, the accompanying bragging rights.

Everest Base Camp....Finally

Well, we did it. We got a flight to Lukla (trail head), hiked 120 miles to Everest base camp and back and made it back from Lukla on a flight to Kathmandu. It rained, it snowed, more flights were cancelled, but we did it. I repeat - we did it.

We just got back mere hours ago, so I will defer my boring stories about visiting the base of the world's tallest mountain until tomorrow. Right now, after 12 days in the backcountry, I need a shower.

Act 3

As we left the pass and descended down to the final 5 days of our trek the views were mainly high desert followed by jungles in the lower places. Walking through the desert valleys we faced major winds that slowed us down considerably, but with the end in sight we trudged on. We went to Marpha, the apple capital of Nepal, and made our way up to Gorapani on the second to last day of the trek. It was easily the hardest hiking day as it was all uphill on brutal stone steps. The final morning of the hike we ascended Poon Hill (about 10,000ft) for some spectacular views. Pictures will be posted soon.

Looking back on the trek, aside from the challenge of hiking and the spectacular views, the mountain life and culture was one of the most interesting parts. The people lived very simple lifestyles. They grew rice, millet and buckwheat along the hillsides and the lower villages had small apple orchards. Everything is carried up by yak, donkey, or most commonly, on people's backs. I've mentioned porters before, but the porters who carry up supplies deserve some special attention. The men (sometimes women) carry extraordinary weights and varieties of supplies to the people in the villages, including: full propane tanks, tree trunks stripped of branches, full wooden dressers, rocks, food, yak meat, generators, plywood, and anything else you can think of. This is all done on their backs with a strap around their head.

Act 2

As we ascended up the trail we began to feel the slight affects of the altitude. Shortness of breath and a hot and heavy sun were the most apparent. However, these minor annoyances were overshadowed by the increasingly amazing views.

About 5 days in we got our first view of a snow capped peak - Annapurna 2. It was incredible. We had to wait for the clouds to dissipate, but the view was indescribable and hopefully our pictures will convey that when we get them up. I'll refrain from describing the views too much and let the coming pictures speak for themselves. Another good thing about being higher up was that the rain had stopped. After 4 days of damp clothes and shoes, it felt wonderful.

While all the days had epic views and hard grueling hikes, there is only one day worth mentioning specifically. The day we hiked up and through Thorong-La Pass was one that will forever stick out in our minds.

On usual days we have breakfast and get on the trail by 8am, but because of high winds at the Pass we had to be on the trail by 4:30am. Unlike the other days at higher altitudes it was raining, but it was different than rain, it was like we stepped out into a big, wet cloud that was surrounding the town of Phedi, which is situated at 14,445ft.

The day before the pass we had made to sure to drink lots of water, eat garlic soup (per our guide's suggestion) and take an acclimatizing day hike up 1000ft. These efforts were well worth it as we began that morning. We began hiking in the rain with flashlights that attempted to cut through the misty darkness and illuminate the way. We began huffing and puffing hard - choo-choo trains or morbidly obese shut-ins walking up stairways came to mind. For me, I started having flashbacks of my chubby 8th grade self running the mile during PE.

As we ascended about 1200ft the rain stopped and the snow started. First as hail and then as large flakes reminiscent of heavy Boston snow days. But we kept on keepin' on. This was the climax of our trip and nothing was going to stop us. The affects of the altitude got worse as we got higher; we started having more trouble breathing and began to get headaches. However, these affects are considered light as compared with the major symptoms such as vomiting blood, passing out and walking as if drunk.

When we got to the top it was glorious. Not because of the view (there was none because of the snow), nor because of the actual scenery of the pass (it was a pile of rocks and a small tea hut), but because we had made it over 4 grueling hours. We ascended 3280ft in all and felt like rock stars. What we didn't realize is that going up was the easy part.

After reaching the pass we had to descend 6000ft to the next mountain village. This descent would take place over 4 hours and as we later learned it would take place on a 7o degree slope on loose rocks and gravel. We slipped, fell, ran and tumbled downhill for over four hours before we reached our destination. Our joints ached and our minds were blown from the need to focus on every single step.

No matter. We were ecstatic. Over half the trek was over and we had survived the worst that high altitude could throw at us. We got to the tea house and slept and then slept some more.

Act 1

A little background first. The Annapurna Circuit Trek is a 150 mile trek along the four Annapurna mountains and countless other snow capped peaks. The trek is often completed in as many as 21 days, but being the crazed savages we are, we did it in 15. The trek ascends hikers up to the Thorong-La Pass, which stands at 17,769 feet, reaching the pass in the middle of day 10 (more on this later).

The theme of the first few days was water. Rain, rivers, creeks, puddles, waterfalls, drinking - the gamut. We hopped over smalls creeks, we forded small rivers (almost waist deep), we jumped rock to rock over class III rapids and we were splashed by waterfalls pouring overhead. All this was coupled with monsoon rains that were sprinkled throughout our day and often dominated the nights.

The trail started as a jungle and slowly began turning into a pine forest as we ascended higher. It actually began to remind me of the many American forests I've stomped through. Although, there was one small difference: Leeches. The leeches in Nepal are about the size of a small, skinny worm and they attach to your shoes as you walk along the wet ground. They inch their way up your boots and latch onto your ankle, sometimes above your sock and sometimes through it. They likely have some anesthetic property that prevents you from feeling the bite and as I later learned they also likely have some anti-coagulant that prevents you from clotting. Midway into the third day I had three on my ankle. They had become fat with my blood and no longer resembled the leeches on the ground. Finally, I yanked them off, a painless but frustrating experience because they try then to latch onto your finger. After pulling them off the bites continue to bleed like a mad saxophonist who won't let that note drop. No amount of pressure helps, only sweet time - but lots of that we had. (Tip: bring black socks, my white ones are covered in blood).

During the first few days we hiked about 6-7 hours and covered about 10 miles a day. We started the trek at about 2600ft and didn't get much higher than 8000ft during the first few days. So there was no chance of altitude sickness, but the climb was considerable.

I should probably say a little about our traveling companions - both guide and porter. Our guide's name was Monaj (pronounced Moan-us) and he is a friendly, Nepali who pauses after every semi-funny thing we say and then bursts with a chubby laugh that can be heard for miles. A guide in Nepal is more than someone who shows you the trail, he is also a friend, protective parent, moonlighting waiter and cook. Along the trek there are teahouses (basic hostels with four walls, a roof and sometimes a shower) which you stay in. At these teahouses your guide takes your food order, helps cook and delivers your food. As for us, our only job was to sleep, eat, walk, eat, walk, eat, sleep - in that order

The porter was another sort. A quiet, shy (even among fellow Nepalis) and soft spoken man who was the same age as our guide, but appeared 10 years older. A porter in Nepal is someone who helps carry your stuff along the trail. In America I would never dream of having someone help me carry my backpacking supplies on the trail, but our decision to use one in Nepal was threefold. Mylinh hasn't ever really been on a long trek before and I didn't want here experience to be awful - I also didn't want to carry all of our stuff in one pack. Moreover, neither Mylinh nor I had ever ascended to over 17,000ft and the threat of altitude sickness is real as some people every year have to be helicoptered out. Finally, we wanted to support the local economy and found out later that giving a porter a job is looked upon highly by the other Nepalis (they talk shit about those who do it without guide or porter). In the end our porter was a life saver as he skipped nimbly across the Himalayan landscape without a care or worry, all while whistling, as we struggled, slogged and stomped our way up to the top.

What Actually Happened...

The chairs only went midway up your back so sleeping was impossible, unless of course you got one of the coveted seats against the never-cleaned wall; snacks were triple the price as they are in most airports; the loud-speaker announcing delayed and canceled flights buzzed unharmoniously every few minutes. The gates of purgatory opened and we jumped through.

Two days passed as we sat in the Kathmandu Airport attempting to fly to Lukla to get to the trail head of the Everest Base Camp trek. The weather report predicted more monsoon weather in Lukla through the week. Sensing our frustration and peering into our bloodshot eyes - ravaged from two 3:30am wake-up mornings - our would-be guide laid out the alternatives. Wait another day in the fiery pits or start right then and there along the Annapurna Himalaya Circuit trek - the most popular in all of Nepal and his personal favorite. We grabbed this lifeline and charged.

So we left Everest behind and took a bus - thank god - to the Annapurna trail head. Finally we were moving forward, moving on and climbing up.

Looking back, the 15 day trek through the Annapurna Circuit felt like a play in three acts.

Once in a Lifetime

We have been in Nepal now for almost 3 days. It is everything we had hoped for. Nice people, good food, cool weather (as compared to india) cheap-ish beer and lots to do. Having spent our days here exploring Kathmandu we have come to love the city and could spend forever walking its streets and eating at one the many delicious restaurants.

Alas, greater ambition calls us onward and upward. We are leaving tomorrow for a 15 day trek to the Mount Everest Base Camp, which is located at a staggering 17,090 ft above sea level. We will start at Lukla and spend the next 8 days reaching the base camp followed by a descent through the Chola Pass, which provides a different path back to Lukla. A detailed version of our trekking route can be found here.

We are excited to say the least. Wish us luck and read all about it here sometime after September 8th.

Shit River

And finally, there was Varanasi. The sacred city was also the site of touts, floods and the Ganges River that has fecal-coliform counts of about 50,000 bacteria per 100 milliliters of water, 10,000% higher than the government standard for safe river bathing. Literally, thousands of people were bathing in and drinking from the river. That being said, it was beautiful to see, but not touch, the river which had ghats (temples) with steps leading right to the water's edge.

When we arrived in Varanasi we had the same usual problems with the aggressive rickshaw drivers, which led to more arguments between me and them, but in the end we got a pretty good deal on a place to stay and a cheap rickshaw ride - but the hassle was barely worth it.

The city itself was congested and busy. There were few restaurants and the ones available were expensive. The first night there it rained and rained and rained some more. When we awoke the streets had flooded - literally 2-3 feet of water everywhere. We ventured out for some breakfast and waded through the water (which was inevitably filled with fecal matter, if not human, than definitely cow and dog). Oh, and did I mention, the water in our hostel stopped working because of the flood. Lovely day.

Eventually the flooding subsided and we strolled along the ghats and river, which was actually somewhat peaceful. Less peaceful was the negotiating with boat drivers to take us out on the river, but we did the most sensible thing possible and walked away. It ended up we got a much better deal by booking a boat ride through our hostel, which allowed us to view an evening Hindu river worship ceremony.

All in all, Varanasi had its highs and lows, but the stop was worth it, if only to see the magnificent (yet polluted) Ganges. Although, a working ATM would have been nice.

* picture - Sending puri (offering of lotus flowers and butter candle) down the river at sunset

Observations

No one wears socks - you may say this is because it is hot, but most men wear long sleeve pants and button up shirts with sandals.

Thousands of men hang out on the street everyday in every city we have been in. Additionally, men are always our waiters and clerks in stores. A few women are around, but maybe 1 woman for every 25 men. Where are they?

All drivers honk their horns incessantly. Now I see why NYC imposes a $350 fine for honking your horn in certain areas.

Tropical climate, but a discouraging lack of exotic or unique fruits and vegetables. Hello, apples and bananas!!

The Taj

After leaving Delhi we arrived in Agra, a city not featuring much, except of course the Taj Mahal. The main touristy part of the city feating most of the hostels and restaurants is built around the landmark. So we spent most of the day walking the streets, exploring the city and peering at the walls surrounding the Taj.

We had decided that an early morning visit would be best because it would have the most chance of sunshine (since it is the end of monsoon season) and it avoids the tour groups who are bussed in from nicer hotels on the outskirts.

The Taj Mahal was everything it was supposed to be and more. Magnificent, beautiful and overwhelming are just a few of the words that best describe it's radiance in the morning sunshine. Despite the fact that pollution has slightly yellowed some of the marble, it still appears to glow white.

The rest of Agra was a bore, but it was all worth it. We are wrapping up the first leg of our trip as we will be heading to Nepal at the end of the week. More to come.

Long live Gandhiji

Seven Social Sins
Politics without Principle
Wealth without Work
Pleasure without Conscience
Knowledge without Character
Commerce without Morality
Science without Humanity
Worship without Sacriface

Quoted by Mahatma Gandhi in "Young India", 1925

Delhi, Not New, Still the Same

From what we had heard, travelers have both loved and hated Delhi. I find myself in the former category. While it was a busy, intense, noisy, dirty and crowded city - that is just India and no different from anywhere else. What probably appealed most to me about the city was the ability to walk around on actual sidewalks while enjoying oneself and not fearing imminent death by collision. Also, Main Bazaar - the place we stayed, had a nostalgic Khao San Road feel to it.

We arrived by train and, despite warnings to the contrary, the touts weren't as bad or aggressive as other places. Having picked out our neighborhood to peruse for hostels (backpackers' ghetto of course) we jetted off in a rickshaw and started marching with our 20lb packs in the blazing Indian heat. I was sweating like a whore in church so we entered the first decent looking place we found. The prices were a little high, but the owner took me aside and offered me a deal because, as he said, "your girlfriend looks very unhappy with you." He was right, but at least we got the deal.

In Delhi we did all the usual touristy stuff. We visited the Red Fort, Jama Masjid (a mosque that holds 25,000), Rajghat (Gandhi and Nehru's cremation park) and a number of outdoor bazaars. Like I said, much of the appeal of the city was the ability to walk around quaint (for India) neighborhoods like Connaught Place. A circular neighborhood that consisted of three rings, Connaught Place had lots of local and chain restaurants and shops and not an insubstantial amount of air conditioning (hard to find over here).

Main Bazaar was a quintessential backpacker's ghetto. Lots of shops, restaurants and hostels and all cheap. Additionally, there were fresh juice stands and good street food. Speaking of street food, I made a rookie error when after ordering a mutton (goat) kebab from a street vendor I grabbed one from what looked like the cooked pile, only to bite into it and realize that it was only half cooked and that he finished bbqing them only after they had been ordered. I was slightly embarrassed and definitely felt lucky to have escaped food poisoning. Better luck tomorrow.

21st Amendment

While I wouldn't say that there is no alcohol in india, it often feels like 1920s prohibition around here, but without the cool gangsters.

After a hot day roaming around crazy Indian cities one of the things I crave the most is a cold beer. Not being able to find one of these makes me cranky. Mylinh loves that.

Slug Bug

Slugbug, as many of you will remember, is a game where if you spot a VW Bug before another person you slug the person in the shoulder. Mylinh has an uncanny ability to play this and similar games. For example, when she was in second grade she racked up over 525 "slugs" over a three month period.

In India people urinate and deficate all over the street. Not just poor children, but grown men in business suits. Mylinh has turned this into a game and like the slugbug of yesteryear she has an uncanny ability to spot people on the street, in train stations, and in alley ways doing their business.

You can't say she isn't talented.

The Young and the Restless

Today at Amber Fort we were approached and menacingly followed by a 14 year old local demanding 10 rupees (about $0.25) from us. As far as I was concerned he could have my 10 rupees when he pried it from my cold dead hands.

After telling him politely "no thank you," then less politely to "leave us alone," I got angry and started cursing at him (mind you, we were in a secluded part of the fort where no one else was around). He started saying stuff in hindi, but I definitely heard him call me "macho."

After continuing to curse at him and shuffling Mylinh down the path toward other people (and relative safety) he actually took off his lightweight sandal and threatened to throw it at me. For a second I progressed forward (clearly not fearing the threat of a sandal), but then quickly decided that my problems would probably multiply ten-fold if I got into an altercation with a teenage local.

So we walked calmly and cooly down the fort toward a crowd of people and he followed. By this time we were near some Indian vendors and I started to curse at this kid again. The vendors assured me he was nothing to worry about, but some nice Indian locals began scolding him in Hindi and he finally left us alone.

The problem with menacing children is that you can't strike them without possible repercussions. Once a child learns that they have the power to do whatever they want it is hard to force them to do otherwise. Clearly bad parenting and a parasitic sub-culture has shaped this child, but part of me thinks a broken nose would have done him some good.

"No I am not a God, only rickshaw driver"

We had a fantastic day in Jaipur, another city in the state of Rajasthan. Jaipur is a big bustling city that is one of the stops on the Golden Triangle.

We were lucky enough to meet up with a rickshaw driver, Vishu (not to be confused with the God Vishnu), who also moonlights as a tour guide. Vishu was extremely friendly, doe eyed and a crazy driver! With Vishu we visited the Amber Fort, Sirin Temple, The Water Palace, Royal Gaitor, and Jantar Mantar.

While all these places have been really fascinating, it was really great to meet someone in India that was friendly and trustworthy. It has been unfortunate that the majority of Nationals that speak to us have been touts and other people wanting our money.

Vishu invited us to his home to meet his family and that was an interesting experience. We were offered chai and chapatis and met his mother and sisters. This is the second Indian home we have experienced and have found that Indians are very hospitable, but it is odd that we always congregate in someone's bedroom as there is no common area.

* picture - The Centograph and Mylinh and Vishu

Mt. Abu

Upon entering the town of Mt. Abu it was pouring rain and so we were once again at the mercy of the taxi drivers (few rickshaws here). We weakly negotiated a price for the ride and headed off to a row of hotels where we bargained like crazy for a good deal.

Mt. Abu was beautiful - a green, mountainous town popular with Indians as a vacation spot. The town encompasses Nikki Lake, which is named because, according to legend, it was scooped out by a god using his nakh (nails).

There were also plentiful hiking trails and a surprising abundance of ice cream stands. The streets were filled with vendors and it took on an almost carnival feel. We strolled through the small town that night and turned in early. That night the rain poured like crazy - not the best when hiking is the sole activity in the area.

We awoke determined to do some trekking. We started by circling the perimeter of the lake and finding a marked trail that led up to the top of some rocky hills. As we began hiking we were accompanied by one of the many stray dogs in India. While this concerned me at first, as we both did not receive our rabies vaccination due to the worldwide shortage, I soon learned that this was a quite well behaved dog that thankfully always remained at least 5 feet away from us.

We continued hiking toward the famous Toad Rock, which is a large rock formation that appears to be a giant toad jumping into the lake. Our early morning jaunt was well placed, as later it began to rain hard and we decided it was time to continue on to less rainy pastures.

The Bus and the Lorry: A Tale

We left Udaipur on a 7am bus. We had foolishly paid $1 extra for our tickets as the travel agent assured us that the upgrade from "express" to "deluxe" was well worth it. As we later found out all the tickets were the same and the difference between express and deluxe was naught.

The bus winded its way out of the mountainous Updaipur and through the back roads of India. They were mostly paved, but still full of potholes, rocks and cows. The ride was supposed to take about 5 hours and the lack of air conditioning wasn't a problem because a nice older British couple was sitting in front of us and they, like me, enjoyed having all the windows open to keep the bus cool (as opposed to sitting near a local who keeps all the windows shut for a smelly and hot ride).

About 3 hours in we came to a dead and prolonged stop. What was more peculiar was that about 5 other buses were also stopped in front of us. The British man in front of us (seemingly quite the rugged traveler who took no shit from any locals) jumped out to investigate. We waited about 5 minutes and then followed.

He was walking back from up the road and we asked him about the situation. He said, "There's a 'lorry' over the pass that is blocking any buses from getting through and that only a small space was allowing the rickshaws and motorcycles through."

I, having no idea what a lorry is, assumed that it meant a flood/mudslide/rocks or something else of that nature. As I later learned upon my own investigation is that a "lorry" is a truck. Later, we described the situation to another British couple using the word "truck" and they looked equally confused.

So, as you now know, a truck had broke down in the middle of the road and we had to wait 2 hours for a mini-crane to appear to drag it out of the way. Always a fun ride in India.

Udaipur

As we stepped off the night train it was like we were in a whole other country (i.e. not India), well almost. The air was cool, the views surrounded by green mountains and the rickshaw drivers were friendly. We had landed in Udaipur, the Venice of the East.

Udaipur was founded in 1559 when Maharaja Udai Singh II enlarged Lake Pichola and built a palace on an island in the middle of the lake. Now the palace is a luxury hotel available to guests only, but the city that surrounds the lake is a charming collection of Hindu temples, winding streets and rooftop restaurants.

We first visited a vintage car collection that housed, among other cars, a1938 Cadillac complete with a sustyem for purdah (custom among some muslims and hindus of keeping women secluded). However, the highlight of the car museum was the 1934 Rolls Royce Phantom that was used in the James Bond film Octopussy. Other cars included an Indian school bus from the 1930s and a 1920 Ford Model-A.


We spent another two days exploring the city and it's eating at cafes and rooftop restaurants. The views were amazing and weather even better. We were sad to leave our favorite city so far, but the rest of India and all of Nepal await.

Seven

The number of days before Mylinh ordered spaghetti.

Hopping on the Chapati Wagon

Today we had the wonderful opportunity to take an Indian cooking class in a real Indian home. We got to create our menu consisting of staples of Northern Indian cuisine and it was a private lesson for just us. We had a great time with Swarti, who was really a patient teacher, and enjoyed a wonderful lunch which we had meticulously and tirelessly slaved over for the past few hours. Our menu included Chapati bread, Samosa's, Vegetable Curry, Chana Masala, and Sweet Lassi with Saffron. We really feel like we can go home and re-create these recipes!

Saffron Lassi Recipe

Ingredients:
2 cups plain yogurt
2 tablespoons sugar (or to taste)
1 teaspoon saffron
1 tablespoon cardamon
1 cup milk
2 tbsp white raisins
1 tbsp cashews
4 almonds

Directions:

Soak almonds in warm water; set aside.

Mix the yogurt, milk, sugar, saffron and 1/2 of the cardamon together to create a thin yogurt consistency.

Peel almonds and cut into thin strips.

Add white raisins and cashews to yogurt mix. Garnish the top with almonds and remainder of cardamon.

Enjoy!

Quotes to Travel By

"With all the fascinating things there are to do in the world, some people while away their time playing Patience. Just fancy!"

- Winston Churchill

The night train, bottoms up

It wasn't air conditioned and it was grungy, but it could've been worse. When we bought the night train sleeper tickets the ticket agent suggested we get top bunks b/c it is better. I've slept on top bunks in Euro trains and it has been fine.

Well, we showed up last night and literally, the bottom bunk had about 4 feet of head room and a storage place for luggage. The top bunk had about 1.5 feet of room and no storage place for luggage. It would've been a nightmare to sleep up there, but thankfully no one showed for the bottom bunks so we swooped on 'em.

Damn ticket agent fuckin' w/ us foreigners.

Answers to my Dad's Questions

So far there hasn't been much curry available. What little we have had hasn't been very spicy, so it might be toned down for us foriegners.

Almost 90% of all menus so far have been vegetarian, but when there is meet it is usually lamb. I'm waiting for some really good meat dishes, but so far none have been found. The vegetables that have been included in the meals have consisted of lots of potatoes, and some tomatoes, peas and chutney. Also, most rice dishes have been garnished with pomegranite seeds, which I love.

Few people who aren't after our money approach us, but a lot say "hi" on the street and some have been willing to lend a charitable helping hand when we have been confused at the train stations. Children particularly love us and never miss an opportunity to shake our hands. Of course, just as many ask for money, but I'm like Ebenezer Scrooge after a stock market crash.

The trains are hit and miss. The first we took was great because we splurged on air conditioned seats. The next one was dirtier and not air conditioned, but not terrible. I think we'll get a better idea in the future, but so far it seems you get what you pay for. It is very easy to get from one city to another, but india is huge so no ride is less than 6 hours and on average they seem to be about 10-12 hrs.

Signs here are often in both hindi and english, but there are plenty of exceptions.

Quotes to Travel by

"It takes a lot of effort to get there and more effort when you arrive, but unless you can make the journey you are confined to one valley of thought all your life."

- Robert Pirsig Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenence

Ahmedabad, you know it

There is only one word that currently comes to mind when describing India - hectic. The traffic, as previously mentioned is intimidating, but also every inch of each city we have been in so far has been swarming with people and walking the streets is an intense experience.

And Out Come the Wolves...

We arrived by train in Ahmedabad yesterday. As to be expected, we look like tourists. In addition to clearly not dressing like Indians, we also have backpacking backpacks strapped to us and a confused look on our faces. So, as has been happening lately, once we stepped off the train the tuk tuk drivers and others trying to prey on tourists ("wolves" as I have come to call them) swarm around us trying to offer "premier" guide services and knowledge of the best hotels.

While we try to get our bearings (not always easy in this country) and book our next train ticket we have to continually say no and tell them to leave us alone. I try to be patient, but their perseverance runs the line of harassment more often than not. They seem to not understand the word "no," despite their otherwise working knowledge of English, but the statement "leave us the fuck alone" seems to be working out pretty good (at times, living up to the ugly american traveler stereotype is essential).

The Walk of Shame

In order to spite the wolves and their brethren I told them we would not be needing any taxi services because we would be walking. The map in the Lonely Planet guide made the walk seem not only short (maybe 2 miles), but also easily navigable.

So we were off. Taking our destiny into our own hands, knowledge be damned. The sun blazed down and the humidity reared its ugly head, but nothing, including 20 pound backpacks, was going to deter me (nor mylinh, though she took some convincing).

Almost an hour later, we were lost. The map was not nearly as complete as we had hoped and half of the street signs were only in Hindi. Still I, arrogant and stubborn, insisted we push on, lest we admit defeat. Mylinh wasn't as sure. She, reigning in the field of common sense, made the obvious statement that we would save ourselves much hassle and lots of body fluid if we took a $0.50 taxi ride. This did not convince me.

One thing about walking in crowded Indian cities is that it takes 10 minutes to go even one block. This makes being lost even more frustrating because to backtrack or "try" a route requires quite a time commitment. Mylinh, becoming ever more frustrated by my testosterone inspired adventure finally wore me down. As we stood at a six way intersection without a single sign in English I admitted defeat and we jumped in a tuk tuk and were off to some possible hostels.

We found suitable accommodations and hunkered down for a much needed nap.

The Well

Today, we took it upon ourselves to ignore the rain and explore the city. First we visited the Dada Hari Wav, which was built in 1499 by a woman of the Sultan Begara's harem. It has steps leading down to multiple levels finally ending at a well about 100 ft below the surface. It was a fascinating, but eerie place. Likely, it was once in the middle of nowhere, it is now surrounded by houses and the trash that goes along.

A nice surprise was that about 200 meters behind this well was another sacred well and Hindu temple called Mata Bhavani's Well. It was less ornate, but equally interesting as the man who cared for the temple led us up a spiral staircase to the roof which looked down upon western Ahmedabad.



Gandhi's Ashram

Next, we visited Gandhi's Ashram, which he lived in from 1918 through 1930 while struggling for independence from the British Empire. It was from here, on March 12, 1930 that Gandhi set out on his famous salt march to the Gulf of Cambay in symbolic protest of the British salt tax.

The ashram was wonderfully serene, as it was set back from the noise and turbulence of the city. It contained a massive collection of handwritten letters from Gandhi, pictures of him and his family, and a history of his life. The ashram still has religious followers living there, but it has mainly been converted into a Gandhi museum. They even recreated the exact set up of the room Gandhi lived in while at the Ashram. While it was sparse, the Ashram as a whole was a palace compared to many of the slums we have seen throughout India.

The Waiting Game

Now we are biding our time until we catch our night sleeper train, which will take us further north. The internet cafes here are a far cry from Thailand or Costa. They usually consist of small cramped back rooms with no air conditioning and require photo identification (by order of the police - wtf - to catch Osama Bid Laden I suppose).

* picture - Thor wandering the streets on Ahmedabad, positive he thinks he knows where he's going....

You say Mumbai, I say Hello.... Hello Hello....

We landed on Monday morning and we were amazed at the sights and sounds of the city. We love big cities like New York because of the energy and vibe, but Mumbai is twice as crowded and ten times as noisy. A couple of numbers to put it in perspective.

Mumbai:
Population 13.6 million
233 square miles
56,669/sq. mile

New York City:
Population 8.2 million
468.9 square miles
27,147/sq. mile

The air is polluted and death awaits every time you cross the street or step off of the sidewalk. Cars pile on each other 2 to a lane in their tiny taxis of terror. They all honk incessantly and do not stop for pedestrians. It makes walking anywhere an intense experience not for the faint of heart.

Now for the good. Mumbai is the most expensive city in India and everything is still cheap. Beers are $1 and dinner usually costs about $2.50. Food and lodging are about half price outside of Mumba, so our wallets are anxious to explore.

In Mumbai, we have succesfully walked miles of the city trying to find recommended restaurants in unmarked alley ways. The vendors hocking crap to tourists are out in force, but we have resisted so far. We traveled to Elephant Island - which was beautiful, but marred with torrential downpours that ruined it for us.

C'est la vie. The metropolis of Mumbai may have been our first taste of India, but like a scorned lover, we are ready to move on. A sleeper train awaits to carry us north. More to come.

I'm Leaving on a Jet Airways Plane

When we first booked our tickets to India we obviously bought the cheapest ones we found. Those tickets happened to be on an airline called Jet Airways. This is an airline we had never heard of before (read: we were really afraid that the airline would suck and that we would be flying to India in a 6 seater propeller plane from WWII).

We were happily surprised to find that it was one of the largest and nicest planes we had ever been on. Not only was there ample leg room, but there were 10 inch touchscreens for every seat with 15 free newly released movies and ample video games.

Overall, the 23 hours we spent on the plane was both terrible (as is any plane ride of that length) and kind of awesome b/c we were able to both play video games and watch many movies as we drifted in and out of sleep (thanks for the sleeping pills mom!).

Moral of the story: unknown foreign airlines are always awesome...next stop - Pakistan Air.

Bon Voyage!

Farewell fair country for we are off for both daring and adventure. For all of you who care, tales of woeful recklessness and joyous sauntering will be transcribed with much bias and hopefully a little style.