Goodbye Mumbai!! (Maharashtra)

Click here to see the photos

I would like to start by saying thanks to all the people who emailed and left kind comments to me after the last couple of posts! I'd like to assure you all, there's nothing wrong, and I'm not feeling bad, depressed, angry or anything (ok, apart from against a couple of people who sent me some nasty emails). Memories really sum up the person you are and your life so far. They are your life experiences, each one a jigsaw piece in the whole puzzle that makes up the final picture of your life the day you die. To deny one's memories of the past, or the emotions attached to them, would be lying to yourself, and to others. To block out a memory, or change or deny the emotion that comes with it, because you or someone else regrets or denies it is counter-productive. We learn from our mistakes in the past, and move forward to the next piece in the jigsaw. There's no harm in regressing and looking back at each piece. It helps us remember the person we were then, and the person we are now, and how one has changed over the years. Certainly, we're all different people to what we were 10, 15, 20 years ago. And I know that in my father after I spent time with him at Christmas. I didn't mean to hurt him, I was just getting to know him again after all the years away, and making observations of his character, which is so different to what it was then. But I can't deny the past to myself or others. I... we, can only move forward.

So I'm here in Mumbai, after a quick spin through the state of Maharastra. From Udaipur, Matt and I travelled by an overnight sleeper bus to Surat, where we hoped to catch a train or another bus to Ellora, the site of thirty four 7th to 8th century caves carved out of a hillside. I slept like a baby on the sleeper bus, which I was glad about after seeing the almost coffin like interior of the tiny cabin above the seated people below. I didn't fancy lying wide awake for 10 hours in a little box lined with a long window and curtains! Felt like a vampire in there.
We arrived in Surat, an unremarkable University town in Gujarat state, just on the border with Maharashtra, at around 7am to find that there were no buses to Ellora! The only buses they had were to Jalgaon or Aurangabad, 160km and 38km from Ellora respectively, so we decided to take the bus to Aurangabad. Unfortunately, taking a private company bus would have meant staying in Surat all day, with nothing to see or do, till the evening, so we jumped a rickshaw to the government bus stand that had regular buses to Aurangabad and caught the 9am bus there.
I tell you, the government buses are deadly. They seem like they're going to fall apart at every bend or bump. I was sitting at the back corner, where I could see outside the bus, not just through the window, but from the floor, ceiling and wall. The buses are filthy, and the seats totally uncomfortable. At least it was only a 6 hour ride, or so we thought. I had asked the conductor how many hours the bus took to get to Aurangabad, and he said 6. So we figured 3pm arrival. No. What he meant was, arriving at 6pm. And it didn't even arrive then. It was late by 2 hours. 11 hours on a government bus is about the worst experience of my life. These guys are the fastest things on the road. No joke. We took over private buses, cars, lorries, and even other government buses. If Narain Karthikeyan drove one of these in Formula 1 instead of a Jordan, he'd win the whole F1 championship within the first half of the season. Seriously. How do you overtake another vehicle? Simple. On a blind corner, going up a hill, on the other side of the road with the opposite traffic going between you and the vehicle you are overtaking. Shocking.
After converting to Islam, Christianity, Hindu, Parsee, Buddhism, and even Greek Orthodox to pray for safety to any and all gods during the bus journey, we checked into a hotel in Aurangabad, in the Deccan mountain range, and washed of the thick layer of dirt accumulated from 20 hours non-stop on the road under a hot shower. It was the dirtiest I had ever been in my life. I was honestly black all over from all the smog, exhaust through the windows and cracks in the bus, and the dirt on every surface of the government bus. It was like pure heaven being clean!
Chilled out and had dinner in town, went to sleep, and got up pretty early the next morning to jump a jeep to the Ellora caves. The cave complex in the Deccan range is simply stunning. All 34 caves were hand carved and hewn from the hillside some 1400 years ago. The oldest are the Buddhist caves, dugout from the 6th to 8th century, followed by the Hindu ones, 7th to 9th century, and finally the Jain caves around the 9th and 10th century. The master piece is the Hindu Kailash temple, which took 100 years, four generations of kings to carve out beginning the late 8th century. All the details, bridges, carvings, icons, walkways, bridges, pillars, staircases and rooms are all carved out from the hillside. There is no single stone added to anything in the whole complex, which make sit all the more astounding. Any mistake could not be altered. The precision must have been amazing. Some one quarter of a million tonnes of rock was excavated to create this structure, all by hand tools, in the 1300 years ago. It's truly astonishing.
We were also going to visit the Ajanta Caves, about 130km from Aurangabad the following day, but I think we were really all templed out. The journey was long, the caves at Ajanta, although much older, are apparantly less spectacular than those at Ellora. The main attraction there is really the setting, in a deep U-shaped valley with a river running through, and the well-preserved paintings on the walls and ceilings of the caves. So instead (after a night drinking with some locals in Auragabad), we headed to Nasik the next morning, on the way to Mumbai (Bombay), which is one of the 4 sites where the Kumbh Mela, the largest pilgrimage in the whole is held. Each one of the sites take turns to hold the Kumbh Mela, every 3 years. Each site in legend is where one of four drops of nectar (amrita) was spilt by Vishnu from his pot (kumbha) during a battle amongst the gods, and each one of the drops landed in Nasik, Prayag, Haridwar and Ujjain. The last Kumbh Mela at Nasik was in 2003, and according to official figures, some 10 million people attended. The record was 17 million to Allahabad in 2001, for the Maha Kumbh Mela, the holiest of all the Kumbh Melas, the largest ever pilgrimage recorded in human history.
After the 10 hour government bus journey, I swore never to take another, but broke my promise by taking another the 4 hours to Nasik. It was just as frightening, but the bumps and jolts started to become quite fun actually. I compare it to the best fairground rides I have ever been on,with just as much adrenaline pumping through my veins. On arrival, and after lunch, we headed directly to the ghats, the steps that lead into the River Godavari. It was purple-pink still from Holi the week before. I'm sure Indira Ghandi, who was laid to rest in the river (after being cremated) wouldn't mind being pink.
There were quite a few kids and sadhus bathing in the river, dammed up to create pools of water that is calm enough to wade and swim in. I was called over by a sadhu who spoke to me in Maharati (the language local to Maharashtra) and god knows what he said. A sadhu is a holy man who gives up everything in his life to dedicate it to his god. I gave him 20 rupees hoping that he wouldn't curse me like Susan MacDonald had been in her book, Holy Cow!.
We also visited a shrine to Shiva by the ghats, where the priest instructed me how to make an offering to the god. We got a lot of attention in Nasik. The 5 hours we were there, before catching our train to Mumbai, we never saw a single tourist.
2 hours delay, and 4 hours on the train to Mumbai, we arrived at CST, formerly Victoria Terminal, in the heart of the city at around 11pm, and we caught a taxi to Colaba, the hip, central area of Mumbai. Unfortunately, due to the final cricket test match between India and England held in the city, almost every hotel we visited was full. It wasn't till midnight we found a place, outrageously priced at 750 rupees a room (without a private toilet too, but it had a shower and air-con). We had a late dinner downstairs in a restaurant before passing out. The following monring, we checked out to find ourselves another hotel, which we did, opposite Leopold's Cafe, well-known as the place Gregory David Roberts (aka Lin), used to hang out when he lived in Bombay during the 80's. He was an Australian convict who escaped from a maximum security prison, ended up in Bombay (as it was called then), lived in a slumfor two years, joined the Bombay mafia, and even fought with the mujahadeen in Afghanistan against the Russians. His Indian life is chronicled in Shantaram, a book I highly recommend, and finished, coincidentally, o the train into Mumbai. I felt like I already knew the city.
The new hotel wasn't much cheaper, at 600 rupees, but there's nothing in town below that amount. It's one of the most expensive places to stay in India. It's also the nicest city I have seen so far. I thought it was going to be worse than Delhi, but it's so much cleaner, organised, and certainly more picturesque than any other city I've been to so far. I've really grown to like this place, and can see why so many have as well. The streets are wide, as are the pavements (most of the other places didn't even have pavements!), there are no auto-rickshaws here, barely any cows on the streets (I think I've only seen 3 here in two days), and it's a real melting pot mix of Indians, Africans, Europeans and Middle-Easterns living here. The shops are upmarket, there are more private cars on the road, and the wealth of colonial buildings herald a bygone age of British imperialism. I could certainly live and work here. The only thing I've noticed is the prolific slums here, at the side of every railtrack, construction site, or any open space not used. I think also due to the 'cleaner', more spacious living here, without the made rush of traffic and objects, you begin to see the beggars, and street sleepers here. Most have leprosy, begging with half a hand, all fingers missing, or legs that end at the knee, or have a face missing. It really hits you hard here in Mumbai, now there are less distractions to avert your gaze.
We've visited Chowpatty beach, where we were approached by a little kid, no more than 8 years old, begging, and bought him some chai and food from a hawker rather than give him cash. We also visited the Gateway to India (a huge arch built to commemorate King George V's visit), the Haji Ali mosque, Crawford market and sat in Leopold's Cafe last night, after England beat India to level the series, talking to a couple of Welshmen and Liverpudlians. I wasn't so happy drinking there. The setting is nice, and it's a great people watching place (as Gregory Roberts attests to in Shantaram), but the waiters are well trained to rip you off. Because of the cricket, and the amount of tourists, they told us certain beers were out of stock, and only the more expensive ones were left. After a couple of bottles of Corona, at 150 rupees each, we saw another table being served Cobra (80 rupees), and got the waiter to confess that therewas plenty of other beers available. Cheeky sod. But fair cop, we fell into the trap. I'm sure they even had Kingfisher Strong, a local Indian beer, twice the amount in size and strength for 60 rupees, but held them back to make more money from the tourists on the other beers. I'm beginning to think the hotels are running the same scam with their rooms. I guess Matt and I have arrived at the wrong time, during the final cricket test.
Tonight, we're off to Goa on an overnight train, where for the first time in India, I will not sight-see for a few days, and just chill by the beach. I'm so looking forward to it. I've also heard there's one day test match between England and India there on the 3rd April, so I might try to get tickets for that.

A Public Apology and Retaliation

Well, it seems my last post seems to have infuriated a large number of people, not least my father. I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to those I have angered by mistake, especially my dad, whom I have recently told I hold no hard feelings against anymore.

I would also like to say that the experience that happened to me whilst I was in Jodhpur was totally subconscious, as in, I couldn't seem to control what I was feeling or thinking. They are in no way necessarily how I currently feel at this time in my life. To me, it seemed merely a flashback to how I felt at that time. It does not neccesarily reflect how I feel now. It seemed more like a journey back to those events and how I felt emotionally when they happened. It would not have been a weird experience, as I said, to me if I still felt that way. That was what was so strange about it. That past emotions came with the memories.

Finally, if some of you do not like what is in my blog, then you can stop reading it. I am not forcing you to do so. I, like all the rest of you, have my freedom of speech to express how I feel and what I say, and none of you have any right to deprive me of that. So in frank, you can f*ck off if you don't like what's in here. For once in my life, I'm doing something I've been dreaming about for a long time, travelling and expressing my thoughts. I will not let you try to handle me in your way over these distances. You do not have any hold over me. And before any of you reply to this statement, it was meant for those who know who they are (not you dad!).

So again, I am sorry to both my parents, especially my father, whom I did not mean to anger. I do love you, and hope that you understand what I mean.

Holy Holi! - Jodhpur and Udaipur

Click here to see the photos from Jodhpur and Udaipur

On the 7 hour train from Jaisalmer to Jodhpur, Matt and I received a portent of what Holi would entail. A few stops after Jaisalmer, when we thought we'd have the whole berth section to ourselves, about 7 or 8 men crammed into our area, covered head to foot in a pinkish-purple dye. This is what Holi consists of. Throwing coloured dye from a bottle or squirter onto one another... We made sure our clothes stayed clear, as it was rubbing off on the seats, and as the men ambushed others walking down the aisle. We made it clear to them to leave us out of it, as we had heard the dye can be quite difficult to remove from clothes if totally soaked in. I was definitely planning on buying a cheap t-shirt and pants or shorts when I arrived in Jodhpur!
The night we arrived in Jodhpur, we checked into the Shivam Paying Guest House (I love the names!), at the base of the Merhargarh Fort, with stunning views from the rooftop restaurant. Seems like every hostel in India that is in a city with a fort has a rooftop restaurant!
We went straight to bed, and got up early the next morning and had breakfast at the famous Omelette Shop, near a gate in the old city wall not 100 meters from our hotel. For 12 rupees (about 15p), you get two little omelette sandwiches, from a menu of them including cheese and masala ones.
We walked around a small bit, getting our bearings, and I spent most of the afternoon uploading my photos and doing my last blog entry since it was already too late to visit the fort or the palace on the outskirts of the city. From the rooftop of the hostel, the Maharaja's palace is an imposing sight. It's not only his residence, but it's also a 5 star hotel as well. Instead, we walked through the bazaar near our hostel, crammed full with shoppers, rickshaws, cows, stalls selling chai, spices, vegetables and kids clothing. I was desparate to find myself some cheap clothes for Holi the next day, as some kids were already beginning to celebrate, and we had to give them some nasty faces to keep them from covering us head to foot with dye, as I was wearing clothes I wished to keep!
After a nice stop at a chai shop, we found a nice quiet square, selling spices, wheat and grain. Funnily enough, there was one shop there selling T-shirts and cotton pants where I bought one of each. The shopkeeper convinced us to take part (as they were already soaked through and covered!), but only did our faces, taking care not to get any on our clothes using a thick paste. He invited us to join him outside a friend's spice shop, and we chatted for about 15 minutes and shared chai.
We made our excuses as we wanted to witness the sunset from the fort. So after a quick stop in the hostel, where I resigned to the fact I would now get ambushed due to my dyed face, I changed into my cheap clothes for the walk up. Good thing too, as within 5 meters from the hostel, a bunch of kids ambushed me without warning! I'm glad I took part. Most of the tourists were shying away from it, taking refuge in their hostel cafes or restaurants. As far as I could see, Matt and I were the only ones participating! Once we were covered, we received many warm greetings and smiles from the many locals in the streets, shouting out 'Happy Holi!'.
I walked barefoot all the way up to the top of the fort, since I didn't fancy having pink flip-flops or hiking shoes afterwards! It was pretty painful, and had to avoid any glass or cow-pats in the streets!
We returned to the hostel, much to the delight of the staff there at our appearances, and had dinner, followed by a shower. I tell you, I was still pink after it. I scrubbed my face 3 times with face scrub, and the dye persisted... I was then told the dye would stay on my skin for a further 3 days... Ah well. Sitting upstairs, we saw many bonfires made from cow-pats and sticks, with people playing music all over the city, already celebrating Holi the night before.
So the next morning, still pink in the face, Matt and I decided not to make it any worse, and we took refuge like many other tourists. We got many amused glances from the white skinned folk at our appearance. The streets were absolute mayhem, screaming kids and adults rioting with bottles of dye, music blaring on every street, dancers outside each house. I braved a short walk down the street to take some snaps, and almost received a deluge of dye poured from a blacony above as I was holding my new digital camera, but luckily it missed me by half a meter! The bottom of my trekking trousers weren't too lucky though, but it was a weak mix, and easily washed out.
We spent the morning and afternoon reading, waiting for 2pm when the Merhargargh Fort opened. I had the weirdest experience. Whilst reading, my mind sort of wandered, and I suddenly had a strong series of flashbacks of poignant memories in my life. From lying in bed looking into Sev's kaleidoscope eyes of blue, grey and yellow, listening to her musical laughter, to being driven out of my father's house when I was 13. From a friend of 10 years betraying my trust and confidence during my final week in London, to being severely bullied at school in Hong Kong. From retaliating against my mum once when she was beating me, to sitting on a window sill 11 floors up, contemplating suicide, one of many times as a teenager. In the space of 10 minutes, I remembered and felt heavenly joy to the deepest depression. From furious anger to quivering fright. From remorse to total disregard for my own life. It really took me by surprise, and I couldn't break out of it. Distinct memories just flowed through my thinking. Matt waved a hand in front of me, and asked if I was ok as I was just staring into space. I snapped out of it and told him I was just thinking. It seems cheesey that it happened here in India, where so many say they come to 'find themselves', which I see as a bunch of nonsense. I'm sure if I had visited Nepal or somewhere else first, it would have happened there. Maybe it is India. That would really make me one of those 'soul-searchers' then right? I hope not...
So that really set a melancholy mood for myself for the rest of the day. I was mostly silent as we headed up to the fort, thinking about what happened. The audio tour from an MP3 player round our neck cheered me up a bit, an Indian man talking in perfect Queen's English narrating the history and sights within.
On the way down, a man greeted us, and invited us into his home for a chat. We sat inside his small living room as his wife washed their children's clothes, pink from the Holi celebrations that morning. He showed us his son's collection of foreign currency, and told us what each of his kids were studying and asked what we did. After a nice 15 minute conversation, Matt and I returned to the hotel to relax, not before having some more of the omelettes and buying a few bottles of beer to sup on the roof of the hostel. We spoke about our lives, relationships, and about how I look at myself as a mixed race child, and where I belong. We even touched on EU politics. Fun!
The following morning, we woke up early at 6am to check out and catch our 7:30am bus to Udaipur in the south of Rajasthan. It was a 6 hours long, breaking out of the edges of the Thar Desert, into rocky plains, and up into the moutain ranges housing Udaipur. The bus journey was mostly monotonous, except for a 20 minute intermission, when our driver pranged an auto-rickshaw on an uphill winding road. Cue a huge arguement, with exclaimations of 'madachudh', and other profanities, including and not excluding any member of each others' family. Within minutes a huge group of people crowed round the pair, some locals who obviously knew the rickshaw driver, holding sticks ready to join in the fighting if it ensued. And it did, fists started flying, but the crowd was so thick, the friends of the rickshaw driver could not get in. Luckily some local officials turned up just at that moment, and stopped the fighting. Everyone dispersed, and continued with their chores or drove off without a word. It was kind of surreal. I love the Indian people.
So here I am in Udaipur. I was told there was no lake here, that it had dried up, but it's looking very healthy right now due to recent rainfall (maybe the same ones we experienced in Jaisalmer!). We checked into the Kumbha Palace Guesthouse, run by a Dutch lady married to an Indian man. We met the bright, talkative manager, Prakash, who seems to be enthusiastic about everything, and is hard to stop from going on and on about a subject. He's like Kosh. He just won't shut up sometimes. ;)
As we arrived in the afternoon, Matt and I decided to walk around part of the lake, and paused for a rest at a lakeside cafe. The scenery was amazing. As Matt said, it was like sitting by a lake in north Italy. The view of the lake, bordered by verdant hills and gleaming white buildings, made us feel like we were back in Europe. It is certainly the most picturesque city we have been in so far. The ghats (wide steps beside and running into the lake), we crowded with women washing, beating and rinsing clothes them in the water. A musical, rythmic chorus of 'thwuck's echoed around the town in the early evening.
That night, after dinner back at the hostel's, you guessed it, rooftop restaurant, we booked a private car to take us out of town the next morning to Kumbalgarh, and impressive fort sitting high in the surrounding moutain range, with a 36km wall stretching and winding it's way across the countryside (it's the second longest wall in Asia, after the Great Wall of China), and on to Ranakpur, a complex housing 4 Jain temples with some of the most intricate marble carvings in all of India. The ride was fabulous, winding roads through verdant valleys filled with terraced wheat fields and sugar cane. Women in the distinctive coloured sarees of Rajasthan and gold decorative chains from their ears to nose carrying everything balanced on their heads from huge bundles of firewood to cow pats (for fire fuel) to kalashes (water jugs). Kids in white longhis waving wooden canes, herding goats or water buffalo along the country roads. Men in bright orange or red turbans squatting non-chalantly on the side of the roads. This was certainly the highlight of the day, driving the 3 and a half hours from Udaipur to Kumbalgarh to Ranakpur. I must admit, I succumbed to the previous night's lack of sleep and dozed off in the back of the car the final hour before arriving at Ranakpur, and having a cheap (17 rupees, about 22 pence) lunch in hall not dissimilar from a prison canteen. Food, dhal and chickpeas, were dumped unceremoniously into your bowls from a ladle and steel bucket. I guess you can't go wrong for all you can eat for that price!
At Ranakpur, the main temple is simply stunning. The marblework is just exquisite, with the hundreds of columns in the semi-open air structure dominating. Detailed facades on every wall, ceiling and surface, shiny black, red and white idols inside with shrines with large glaring, all-seeing eyes. The head priest approached me as I was kneeling, taking a photo, and blessed me by rubbing a gold tilak in the center of my forehead, before placing both hands on my shoulders and murmuring a prayer to the gods.
The smaller temples were no less impressive. They were small, and quite simple inside, with fairly bare shrines, but the carvings on the outside walls were incredible. There were scenes of gods fighting demons, worshippers praying to gods, and erotic sculptures of love scenes and some gods. Unfortunately, a lot of the erotic scenes had been vandalised in the past from Muslim occupation. Some have been badly restored, but some have survived.
One the way back to Udaipur, we stopped in a junction town in the hills called Saida where Matt and I took some photos. We then continued back, again stopping, but at the workshop of a master artist in Rajasthani art, Aslambhai (bhai is a term of respect, meaning elder brother). I bought a certain present for Sev to put in her flat, which I won't mention here as she reads this blog. I'm sure she'll love it.
On return to our hostel, we relaxed a while and went to a bar called the Savage Garden, which he heard about the day before from a flyer, celebrating St. Patrick's Day. There were quite a few backpackers up there, with some guitar playing, singing and good conversation until 11pm when it closed.
Today, we haven't done much. We walked through some back streets of Udaipur, getting lost, taking photos and greeting the locals. We're taking a bus this evening down to Surat, where we'll only stay for as long as it takes to find a bus onwards to Ellora, our next destination, to see the wonderful Buddhist caves carved out of the mountain side. From there, we'll also head to Ajanta, another place with Buddhist caves, before heading south-east to Nasik, the site of next year's Kumbh Mela celebrations.

Jaipur and Jaisalmer

Well, it's been almost a week since my last proper post. A lot has happened since then, with many photos to boot, so this is going to be a pretty long post! I'll break them up into accounts of each city.

Jaipur

Click here to see the photos of Jaipur

The first day in Jaipur, Matt and I checked into Stephel's Guest House, recommended by the owners of the Shah Jahan Hotel in Agra. It seems everyone knows a brother or uncle or friend who runs a hostel, restaurant, shop, or auto rickshaw somewhere in India! Headed up to Nahargarh, an old, abandoned fort resting atop a hill just north of the 'Pink City', the old walled district in Jaipur so named for it's pink buildings. They're not really pink. More like a light red-brick colour. There was a long winding path leading up to the old fort, from which we had some amazing views of the city. It was much larger than I had expected, literally sprawling to the edge of the horizon. You could really feel that Jaipur was a large place, even down amongst the streets. It's slightly quieter, in the sense of traffic, than Delhi, but still pretty mad. We walked around the old fort, before heading back down into the Pink City area to wander around, getting our bearings, and also visited the Samode Haveli where my sister had stayed last year, a lovely hotel set in a lush walled area, and even sneaked a look at some of the rooms. Unfortunately, this was the day my camera really decided to pack in, so I don't have any photos unfortunately! We walked a few backstreets where I came across a bunch of Indian kids playing cricket, and they threw me the ball so I could deliver a few bowls. They insisted I keep the ball afterwards, but it was bright pink ad plastic. What would I want with a pink plastic ball for a whole year? Plus it have landed in the grotty gutter at the side of the street after a kid smacked it there. Maybe they tried to offload it to me!
That night, we chilled out in the lovely courtyard of Stephel's, and met Alan, an English man who had come into India after visiting Nepal. I think he fell in love with my Electric Tennis Racket of Mosquito Death after I showed it to him when he complained about all the mozzies!
The next day, I spied a Sony shop round the corner from my hotel and bought myself a new digital camera. Happy with the purchase, but it set me back 250 quid! Matt was still asleep in his room, so I ventured out for a bit. Found that rickshaw drivers tend to hassle you much les when you're on your own for some reason! Jaipur is pretty full on as well with the number of people trying to sell you things. That afternoon, we headed to one of the hospitals so that Matt could be looked at by a doctor, as he had had severe pains in his stomach for 4 days and was quite worried by it. Normally the 'Delhi Belly' only lasts 3 days. We were taken there by a 13 year old kid riding a cycle rickshaw (we found them much cheaper than the auto-rickshaws). So far, we've been driven by a 70 year old man blind in one eye, a 13 year old kid, and some other odd characters!
We pretty much took it easy the rest of the day so Matt could recover. We went back up to the old fort, Nahargarh, so he could take some sunset shots over the city, which turned out we couldn't do. We were in time, but you couldn't see the sun due to the smog covering the city. He also literally got mobbed by a group of kids on the way up, begging for change, and smacking us with wooden sticks!
After a short drink in the cafe inside the fort, we explored some backstreets in a slum-like area at the foot of the hill. We received a lot of stares from people as I guess not many tourists head that way. We were literally mobbed again, this time by about 20 kids, following us demanding money, in response to our 'No', they replied in repeated chorus 'YES, YES, YES!' for about 10 minutes before some adults chased them away. We had walked aimlessly and were desparate to find a rickshaw amongst the backstreets lest we got mobbed again. And we did, for a third time, as we mounted the rickshaw, the driver could not pull away due to the number of kids surrounding us asking us for a photo, money, pens, etc. The driver had to drag them away before he could ride off.
We went back to the hostel and he headed to bed early, and just as I was about to go to bed, Alan knocked on my door with an offer of a beer, so I headed out ito the courtyard and had a nice long chat about travelling, our relationships, and life in general. Real backpacker style.
The next, and final day in Jaipur, we headed back into the Pink City to visit the City Palace and an old observatory dating back a couple of hundred years, built by one of the Moghuls of Jaipur. The City Palace itself was not so interesting, although a snake charmer and a private audience with some Rajasthani musicians and puppeteers to one side of the courtyard peaked our interests.
The obervatory was pretty run down, it really need a good lick of paint and renovation! IT's dominated by a huge sundial, which is apparently accurate to two seconds, even though it was built hundreds of years ago. The are miniature versions along side it, allocated to the zodiac signs.
As we left the compound by the East Gate, I spied the top of a Hindu temple and asked Matt if he wanted to find a way to it. It was obviously off the main street and down some small back roads. I'm glad he agreed. The temple was nice, but what was even nicer was the priest and temple keeper, and old man perhaps in his 60's, with his grand-daughter riding his shoulders everywhere he went. He gladly showed us around, opening up locked portions of the temple (dedicated to Brahma), and even blessed us and adorned us with a garland. I felt such an upwelling of happiness that someone could be so nice and friendly without wanting anything in return for once.
We then took a bus (our first one in India!) to venture out of town to see the Amber Fort, an imposing structure built 40km to the north-east of Jaipur. On the way, we spied the Lake Palace (although not as grand as the oe in Udaipur we'll visit next week). Amber Fort is also totally abandoned, but it's intricate maze-like structure traps unsuspecting tourists, and every turn, corridor and room may contain a befuddled Westerner trying to find his way out. Matt and I loved exploring it, looking into every nook an cranny, up and down every staircase, and even 'found' two little havelis in the far corner which no other tourist seemed to find.
So back to the hostel where we packed our bags, ready for our overnight sleeper train to Jaisalmer, 12 hours away. We ended up talking to the owner's son at Stephel's, who was a surprisingly nice and open guy despite his persistent scowl. He gave me a huge compliment by saying I was the most 'smiling', and happy person he had met out of thousands of guests who had stayed over the 9 years at the hostel. Needless to say, I was very touched. He genuinely seemed to like talking to me, and even gave Matt and I a parting present, a semi-precious stone wrapped in some paper. That wasn't the only present we received that night, on the way to an internet shop, Matt and I were approached by a tout, who seemed to want to sell us some marionettes. We tried to dismiss him, but he followed us and asked us where we can from and what languages we spoke. I told him that I spoke English (obviously!), Cantonese and French, and to my surprise, he spoke back to me in perfect French! It turns out he used to live there, and studied performing arts in Toulouse for 3 years. He was so overjoyed at being able to practise his French he decided to give me and Matt a marionette each for free.
The overnight sleeper train was pretty cool. We had a whole sectio to ourselves (6 berths, 3 stacked on top of each other). Slept very well through the night, although the temperatures dropped to near freezing the last 6 hours as we passed through the fringes of the Great Thar Desert. I was nicely woken up by 3 Indian ladies singing Hindu prayers on a berth at the end of our section. They must have got on at Jodhpur, on the way to Jaisalmer.
On the way from Jodphur to Jaisalmer, we also stopped at Pokaran, the site where India set off its nuclear bombs a few years ago. The place was crawling with soldiers as it's the site of a major military base, keeping an eye on the Pakistan border.


Jaisalmer

Click here to see the photos from Jaisalmer

Now this place is nice. The first thing I noticed about Jaisalmer is the relative calm and peacefulness of the large town (population around 20,000). No incessant beeping of horns, no mad traffic, and very few touts at the exit of the station. I knew we had come somwhere more remote and less touristy than the other places we had visited. The most stricking feature, much like the other cities, was the old sandstone fort sitting on a single hill rising out of the sands of the Thar Desert.
We were picked up for free at the station by our guest house, The Ratan Palace, which had an amazing view of the fort from the rooftop restaurant, plus being able to look out over all the sandstone rooftops of people's houses. On arrival, we booked ourselves a 3 day trip into the desert on a camel safari, then headed up to take a look at the fort.
On the way, we passed a magnificent haveli, with a local Rajasthai woman and her child standing outside. Her brother was outside selling CDs of his music, and even local instruments. She tried to invite us to dinner inside the haveli and she lived in it, but we declined. I kind of regret it. It's so hard to decide if someone is being sincere or not. I think if her brother had not been trying to sell us his CDs whilst she invited us, I might have accepted. It's just after all the touts, possible scams etc, that we have encountered, we didn't want to accept their hospitality only to find we were 'coerced' into buying something from them.
The fort is still very much inhabited, unlike the others. The walled 'city' is crammed with beautifully sculpted havelis, temples and shops. Cows, bicycles, Indian kids and families walk ad pay in the narrow passages. The only drawback is the abundance of electricity cables and poles , and due to increasing tourism, signs for hotels and restaurants and shops that block some fantastic views of the intricately carved balconies and house fronts. In one courtyard, after being asked by some kids where I came from (England, I said. Sometimes I say Hong Kong), they pulled me into a brief game of cricket, where I did some bowling and batting. One of the deliveries from a kid went wide, bounced of a wall and straight ito a bowl of collected cow-pat with a resounding 'thuck' noise. Lovely. I walked away after that! Many of the houses have an image of Ganesh, the son of Shiva, an elephant god with multiple arms painted by the main door. This is accompanied with writing, two names and a date. This signifies the last marriage in the household and will stay there until another marriage occurs in which case the new names and date is painted over the old one. They are everywhere in Jaisalmer, and seems to be a custom local to the town.
The first night there, we just chilled out under the overcast sky looking at the lit up fort. There was an amazing display of sheet lightening with the occasional fork lightening that lit up the skies over the desert. Unfortunately, as we later experienced, a big rainstorm enveloped the town. That night, I woke up at 2am with a severe fever and a bad case of the runs. I had to go to the loo every 30 minutes, practically unable to sleep the entire night. When we woke the next morning at 6:30am for the desert trip, I told Matt that I couldn't go, and we had to delay it till the next day. I went to a pharmacy and stocked up on some anti-biotics, before sleeping most of the afternoon. Luckily, the following day, I was fine, except with a little stomach cramp.

The Great Thar Desert

Woke up at 6:30am, breakfast, then a jeep ride out of town, via Bara Bagh, the old Royal cemetary for the rulers of Jaisalmer. Jaisalmer used to be a thriving overland trade route before the ports of Bombay (now Mumbai) opened up. The legacy of Jaisalmer can be seen at Bara Bagh with ornate tombs, and the sheer number of them dating from the eleventh to twentieth century. A short ride later, and we met up with our camels and our guide.
In our group, we had 5 travellers. A young Dutch couple, Michel and Florence, a german lady in her forties, Michaela, and Matt and me. We introduced ourselves the guide, Del-boy (aka Dalpat, and yes, Del-boy as in from Only Fools and Horses on TV! Obviously given to him by an English traveller!). Del-boy turned out to be a real character! His exclamations of 'Hey man, YOU the MAN!', and 'No worry, no hurry, no chicken, no curry' brought great laughs from us. He wore these huge bling ruby earrings too. Lurvely. As we set off on the camels (mine was called Ratta, but I switched to Raju after Ratta ledt on the second day with the Dutch couple) with our small rucksacks attached (plus a sleeping bag for me), I realised how much my asrse was going to hurt after 3 days of riding. Not 5 minutes ito the ride, and my legs were already sore, especially the inside of the thighs! I don't know how women can stay in the missionary position for so long!
The desert is a fantastic place. The Thar Desert isn't like the deserts you think of. Yes, there's plety of sand, but it's also rocky in many places, with lots of thorny shrubs, and the occasional tree. And yes, there is tumbleweed and skeletons of animals! Luckily the rain had subsided from the night and day before, although there was still the odd cloud cover. At least we wouldn't burn the first day!
The first day riding was pretty tough, as I said, due to pain. We tried to keep our minds off it by chatting and getting to kow one another. I have to say, that Michel got quite annoying. He was very loud, and pretty obnoxious, especially about the camels and Del-boy (and his assistant). That was further compounded when we reached out campsite for the night, amongst some fine sand dunes. After a nicely cooked dinner of dahl, instant noodles and freshly made chapatis (round flat bread cooked on a hotplate over the campfire), Del-boy launched into fantastic song, singing a Rajasthani song to Shiva whilst tapping on a plastic petrol can (holdig water), whilst his assistant clapped along. Michel insisted on joining in shaking a water bottle totally out of time and yelling 'Holland!' in between everyline until we all told him to shut up. It kind of ruined the moment as the sun set over the dunes.
The first night was awful. It had spattered with rain for a few minutes before we went to bed under the open sky. It wasn't wet on the ground, and we weren't soaked by the rain, but during the night, wrapped up warm in my sleeping bag, I woke up drenched to the skin, freezing, not from rain, but from the condensation that have formed on my sleeping bag and soaked it through in the freezing temperatures of the nght. Plus, I had a dug beetle crawl onto my face later on in the night which was a nice surprise. Maybe I smelt bad after a whole day on a camel and no shower!
The following morning, we were pleasantly woken by Del-boy giving us each a nice warm cup of chai. We kitted up and headed into an old abandoned village called Ludvali, which used to be occupied by Brahmins who had suddenly evacuated over night due to the Moghul of Jaisalmer threatening to kill them if they did not allow a love interest of his to marry him. Because of Brahmin law, they cannot drink alcohol or eat meat, and the thought of one of their women marrying a Moghul who could revolted them, they fled before the Moghul could attack them.
We had lunch aferwards under some shade from the glaring sun. Not a cloud in the sky that day. Michel and Florence had only booked a 2 day trip, so they thankfully left, leaving Matt, me and Michaela left. Matt and I were dreading the second day due to pain, but it turned out to be the best afternoon of riding we had, as we slowly got used to the position on the camels, and the fantastic scenery the further into the desert we rode. Most travellers only sign up for the one day or two day safari, but going for the three day is definitely the best option as you head further into the desert and really start to see it in all its glory.
You'd be amazed how much life you see in the desert. Everything from dung beetles, to goat and sheep herds, ants, camel ticks, vultures, scorpions. The place is teeming with life despite the extreme conditions. Every hour or so we'd come across someone tending a herd or just walking from one village to the next, and you realise no matter how big the desert is, everyone seems to kow one another. Del-boy would always greet them warmly, and chat to them on end. He knew every single person out there.
The second night, we camped amongst some even nicer sand dunes, with an amazing sunset as Del-boy and his assistant cooked us some more dahl, rice, chapatis and chai. Again, he regailed us with some fantastic singing, this time without the annoyance of Michel. I was in heaven there, under the bright moon and stars, relaxing, totally away from any civilisation. I felt like I never wanted to go back to Jaisalmer. I have recordings of Del-boy's singing as a movie file. But they're huge, so I'll have to edit them first before I can upload them for you to hear.
That night's sleep was sensational. As it hadn't rained that day, there was no condensation. I only woke up once, to go the the loo, and the range of stars, the milky way arm, the moon disappearing behind the horizon was one of the most beautiful scenes you can imagine. The silence was almost defeaning in the absence of noise, so pronounced and in such sharp contrast to the hustle and bustle of daily life.
The final day, we headed back towards Jaisalmer, passing through a natural oasis and an inhabited village, with warm, friendly people greeting us as we walked through taking photos (as true tourists do). It was sad to say goodbye to Del-boy. He was such a nice guy, confiding in us a lot of detail about his own life, how much he earns a month (only 700 rupees, about 10 quid), and how he feels about life over the campfire. The guy even rode at full pace one hour to a village and back after I ran out of cigarettes. Talk about service! I didn't even know he did it until he came back with them and told me!
So back to Jaisalmer, and you know what? I felt good. REAL good. The first time I think I've really accepted India for what it is. I smiled at everyone, wiggling and waggling my head at them at every opportunity. It's a form of greeting, agreement, and general communication that can be very entertaining if you're bored! Just waggle your head at someone, and since you're a foreigner, they love it, and will furiously waggle and smile their bright white teeth smile right back at you!
I don't know if it's the whole 3 days of being with my own thoughts, having to go to the loo 'au naturelle', not being able to take a shower for 3 days, the charm of Del-boy and his genuine Indian personality, the smells, farts, burps of the camels which are worse than cows, but it seemed so easy to accept India for what it is once I got back. I read somewhere that you can only be comfortable in India if you surrender yourself to it. You cannot keep your own way of thinking and experience all it has to offer. You have to give yourself to India, and I think I've finally done that. I feel good here, and I'm really beginning to enjoy myself now. Something clicked in me whilst I was out in the desert. Something in me changed. I realised you cannot win India, it can only win you. You start not to notice the poverty, the scores of people sh*tting beside the rail tracks in plain view, the smog, the dirt, the cow sh*t everywhere, the insane traffic, the beggars, the touts, the squalid living conditions. You accept it as they have accepted it, and you begin to see the nice things that live beneath the dirty layer. Here, you just have to plunge yourself in headfirst through the muck to see what is beyond the surface. And I feel I have finally done that.

So here I am in Jodhpur. I've spent my first bit of time here letting you all catch up with my story so far. I hope you're all still enjoying it! It's Holi tomorrow, a mad India-wide celebration, a party of colour, quite literally. Everyone joins in throwing coloured dye over each other. I've heard it can be quite difficult to get out of your clothes, so I might go out and buy a cheap T-shirt and pair of shorts today! I'll let you all know the latest after my stay here.

Intermission

This is only going to be a short entry to let you know the latest.

Currently in Jaisalmer, where there's only dial-up access. It's on the edge of the Great Thar Desert, towards the Pakistan border. Life here is very simple. Was supposed to go on a camel trip to the desert for 3 days this morning, but I woke up with a severe fever and a very bad case of the runs which made me wake up every hour. I've self-diagnosed myself with Giardia from some med books I brought along with me. Prescribed myself a nice mix of Ofloxacin, Metronidazole and Lactobacillus pills I bought from a pharmacy here. So I had to put off the desert trip for a day. Probably a good thing too since it's pouring with rain and thunderstorms. Quite rare for Rajasthan where there's been a severe drought for years!

I'll be in Jodhpur in a few days time, after the 3 day desert trip. I hope I make it! I'll have broadband there where I can finally upload the 140 photos I still have from Jaipur and Jaisalmer. It's almost impossible to upload them from dial-up as it'll take days!

I must admit, this is the first time I've really missed 'home'. I miss a soft comfortable bed, clean sheets, fluffy pillow. I miss clean working toilets, baths, clean streets not covered in cow dung (made worse and slippery by the rain!). I miss technology, pubs, quiet streets (yes, quiet, even in London, compared to here!), organisition, cleanliness, a regular job, my friends, Sev, my family. Maybe it's because I'm severely ill. Maybe I'm beginning to realise what I had back in London!

Perhaps it's because I've been a way for the longest time so far from somewhere I called home. Maybe after a bit longer, I'll get used to it. But I know I'll still miss it subconsiously.

Anyhow, I'd better go. Intermittent power blackouts and phone line breakdowns wreak havoc on emailing and blogging here. I'll give you all a more full update when I get to Jodhpur. Lots to tell you about. Sorry for no photos.

The Taj Mahal

Click here to see the photos

Oh, forgot to mention Matt and I went to watch a Bollywood movie in Delhi! That was an experience. People clapping, yelling, singing and spitting along. Yeah, spitting. I think they chew some kind of tabacco when they watch movies. The floor is plastered with dried brown patches. They also put their feet up on the seat in front. I was flanked left and right buy dirty feet just inches from my head. The movie we watched was Badal, about some outcast guy who redeems himself and falls in love with a woman from a well to do family (a police chief's daughter). Well funny. Didn't understand a word, but the occasional English lines ('by the way' being the most common amongst 'what are you talking?', 'just shoot me!', 'thank you', 'I will kill you' etc) made us laugh quite a bit, totally out of line with the rest of the audience.

Arrived in Agra by train yesterday. If you think the touts are bad in Delhi, you haven't seen anything yet. Agra, being the top tourist destination in India, unfortunately has become a playground for con artists and people trying to sell you anything from hash to fake marble replicas of the Taj Mahal. They are even more persistant than in Delhi, grabbing you by the arm or following you for hundreds of meters.

Matt and I took a taxi from the train station towards Taj Ganj, the area east of the city, surrounding the Taj Mahal. We couldn't drive all the way to the hotel due to an exclusion zone around the Taj Mahal to prevent pollution affecting the structure, although I don't see how this helps, as there's a constant thick smog over the whole area from Delhi to Agra. You can see the smog easily in the photos.

We walked the 5 minutes to the Shah Jahan guest house, run by a very friendly old muslim man who is amazingly well travelled. He's been practically been everywhere. He's also an avid collector of items, from old coins and marble tiles from the moghul era, to foreign currency, especially limited edition notes. He wasn't trying to sell, just happy to take you into the little room on the ground floor to show you his collection.

The rooms weren't fantastic, the sheets pretty grubby, and the toilet leaked (from the pipe from the water tank, not the outlet luckily!). Glad I brought my own sheets and pillow case! This was all made up by the fantastic view from the 4th floor cafe on the roof. Matt and I wanted to save sighting the Taj Mahal till we visited it the next morning (it's closed on Friday), but we had to sneak a look. You could see the dome, minarets and part of the tomb from the roof.

Since the Taj Mahal was closed, we went to see th Agra Fort instead, which is much more impressive than the Red Fort in Delhi. The original red sandstone structure is quite well complimented by the white marble buildings that Shah Jahan installed when he moved his capital there from Delhi during his reign. After exploring the almost maze like interior of the havelis and royal apartments, Matt and I had a nap in the garden in the shadow of a tree for a couple of hours since we had little sleep on the roof of Ajay's in Delhi (remember we checked out at 1am and took a 7:15am train!).
Went to bed pretty early that night, so that we could get up at 5:30am to be one of the first into the Taj Mahal. We were told that seeing it during sunrise is one of the best times. Before the sun had even risen, we bought our tickets and headed into the small entrance garden before the massive Persian arch opening into the main garden. I have to admit, my heart was racing a bit as we stepped into the archway, and into view, perfectly framed by the Persian arch was the main structure of the Taj Mahal.

No words can really describe the scene. Everything you have read about the Taj Mahal is true. It's simply magical, really out of this world. It's probably the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. Your breath honestly catches, and you can't help but have a tear in your eye from sheer joy at the magnificence of the building. Matt and I simply stood there for 20 minutes, barely saying a word, just mesmorized by the sight.

As the sun rose, we walked through the garden toward the main structure. It's then that the size of the Taj Mahal complex becomes apparent. Surrounded by four minarets at each corner, and flanked by a huge three arched mosque at the west side (larger than the Jamia Masjid in Delhi), with a mirrored structure to the east just to maintain symmetry, it dwarfs every human standing in it's shade.

The tomb inside isn't spectacular, Mumtaz's tomb in the center (Shah Jaham's wife whom he built the Taj Mahal for), and Shah Jahan's own on the left (west). No photos allowed inside I'm afriad! The room itself seems small compared to the size of the structure.

As we exited, the sun had risen proper, turning the Taj Mahal from a dark grey at dawn, to a brilliant orange white. Thus all the photos I have taken showing the changes of light on it!

By then, the place was totally packed out. Went we came in, there were maybe 50 people, but now at 7am, an hour after we entered, there were literally hundreds upon hundreds. Matt and I decided to leave quickly, so as to not destroy the magic of the place. It was almost like going to Disneyland with all the people standing under their trademark palace. To think the Taj Mahal could be reduced to that made us leave all the more quicker.

The rest of the day, we just chilled on the rooftop, looking back at the Taj Mahal, listening to the occasional muslim call to prayers. I ended up falling asleep for a bit before we headed to the train station to catch our 4 hour train to Jaipur.

The train journey was mostly uneventful, Matt and I just talked for most of it. One of the food vendors marching the aisle had the most amazing moustache I have ever seen (see photo). Calls for 'samosa', 'caw-feeee', 'chai' abound during the journey. Not much scenery to look at as the train was in the evening.

So here I am in Jaipur. Staying at the Stephels guesthouse just south-west of the Pink City, the walled enclosure containing the City Palace, and the famous medieval observatory. After arriving, we pretty much went straight to bed. Today, we went up to the Tiger Fort just north of the city. I have taken some photos, but I'll show them all together with the rest of Jaipur. That is if I can get a new camera. My camera has now totally gone crazy, all the photos are streaked (almost like when water runs ink on a piece of paper), and have a purplish-pink tinge.

I really am not having the best of luck with electronic stuff as I said in the last post. Something is conspiring against me!! So tomorrow morning, I'm off to a Sony shop I spied near my hotel to get a new Sony camera. Why Sony? Well, because I had just bought a new memory stick (proprietary) not three weeks ago, remember? So if I change brands, I'll have to buy another memory card for it. *sigh*. This really has put a dent into my travel budget. Digital cameras don't come cheap, and I'm not going the rest of this year without taking photos. Jaipur is probably the last place I can buy one before I get to Mumbai (Bombay) next month. Rajasthan is too nice a place to not take photos!

So if any of you fancy donating some money to the Dom Giles Digital Camera fund (probably need about 300 quid, which is a month's travelling!), I'm accepting! Just email me and I'll give you my account details! ;)

Indian Insanity

Click here to see the photos

India... Wow... What can I say? It's nothing that I expected it to be. I have read and heard so much about this place, but none of it has prepared me for what I've now experienced. It's not a bad place, it's just very different from anywhere else I've ever been. The traffic is the maddest I've ever been in, with a real ballroom dance of people, bicycles, rickshaws, auto-rickshaws, cars, buses and cows. I have yet to see an accident here. It just stupifies one as to how so many near misses (we're talking centimeters here, no joke) can occur all the time. These guys REALLY know how to drive, although I wouldn't suggest the rest of the world should copy it!
On arrival, I had to queue for so long to get through passport control, I began to fear my 6 month visa would run out before I got to the counter. By the time I got through to luggage reclaim, the conveyor had long stopped, and I almost thought my rucksack had already been stolen before I spotted it behind a pillar.
At the pre-paid taxi booth, a fellow backpacker approached me, a very friendly German guy named Matthius (or Matt), who asked if we could share a cab. The start of a good friendship it would turn out, as we've been backpacking and sightseeing together for the last 4 days! It does keep the transport costs down on the auto-rickshaws as they're halved! Matt's a Geography student back in Koeln, and also does work for the UN for their Tsunami department. He came out here to India for his 5 week holiday as it fascinated him after the 2005 tsunami.
We arrived at Ajay's Guest House, on the Main Bazaar in Paharganj, a very dirty, narrow alleyway late at night (about 1:30am), and checked in. The Main Bazaar was very silent at this time. Not so the next morning. Paharganj is a throbbing market center in Delhi. The narrow alleyway becomes a computer game of avoiding anything and everything, from cow dung to fruit trolleys, from a man pissing in the street to speeding auto-rickshaws, and I stress again, all with about 2 or 3 centimeters to spare in every direction. And it's true, never trust any person you meet here. Everyone is trying to sell something. There are kids who come up saying 'I'm not selling anything, I just want to practise my English', and they'll follow you persistantly, no matter how much you try to get rid of them, before they finally hit the mark and ask you to visit a shop so they can get 'schoolbooks'. There are also a HUGE number of homeless people here. It's shocking, and you just have to walk past them. It goes against everything I believe, but you just have to walk by and ignore them. If you give to one, you have to give to others. Even if you don't believe that, if another beggar spots you handing out money, you'll soon be surrounded by scores of them. The worst scenario I was in was during a rickshaw ride, when a girl, no more than 4 years old, with the most pretty eyes, but so filthy and skinny, came up to me at a traffic light when it was red, and persistantly bowed her forehead onto my leg, begging and wailing and crying. I almost burst into tears. It's such a sad sight, but it's so, so, common here in Delhi. I've realised one of the first things you will learn in India is a kind of indifferent tolerance, and patience here, with all that goes on.
So anyway, the first day, we both decided to walk over to the Old Fort, via the Jamia Masjid, the largest mosque in Delhi. We got very lost. It was fine though, as I found out that Matt is very similar to me in that he doesn't mind walking and getting lost. He's a perfect travel companion. We ended up going through some real throbbing back alleys, without another foreigner in sight. That's the kind of sightseeing I like, seeing the real Delhi, behind the scenes. Eventually, we came across a Metro station and got our bearings, and headed towards the Jamia Masjid.
The Jamia Masjid is huge. Massive. The photos of the courtyard do not do it justice. It holds 25,000 worshippers. 25,000! It's beautiful, and exudes a sense of peace and awe at the same time. We climbed up the Menaar tower, on the south side of the mosque for some breathtaking views of Delhi, and in particular, the Red Fort.
The Red Fort looms out of the scar of Delhi as a powerful symbol of previous ages. The walls are huge, and go on forever. Within the walls are some beautiful gardens, and some fine Persian architecture, although I do admit I did expect a bit more. The area within the walls that you can explore is pretty small.
After the Red Fort, we decided to take our first form of transport, a cycle rickshaw. These are the lowest of the low. They give way to everything as they are slow. I almost had a heart attack. 10 times. Try going through a red-light, on the other side of the road against traffic on one of these. What an adrenaline rush! I almost kissed the piss and cow dung soaked Main Bazaar alley when we go back to the hotel, but stopped myself short when I came to my senses!
The following day, we visited Humayun's Tomb, one of the great Emperors of old. Had another adrenaline fuelled ride on an auto-rickshaw, a tricycle styled motorbike, as it missed it's turning off a roundabout, and instead of continuing around, the driver made a U-turn in the middle of the traffic, and drove the wrong way round the roundabout with every vehicle blaring it's horn and swerving to avoid a headlong collisions before the moment on impact... Phew!
The tomb is amazing, the gardens surrounding it a peaceful island within the mad city of Delhi. You can barely hear the constantly blaring horns from the streets. The tomb itself is said to be the 'precursor' the the Taj Mahal, and it kind of deserves it. It is a fantastic structure, with Persian, Hindu and Buddhist influences. The keen-eyed might notice the frequent use of what is now known as 'The Star of David', although it's symbolism is quite different in this case (the male and female symbolism).
From Humayun's Tomb, we walked up to the Old Fort, which was unfortunately closed due to the visit of 'His Excellency George W. Bush', or so it said. So we continued to India Gate, a monument dedicated to the Indian soldiers who died in World War I. It sits at the east end of the Rajpath, a wide boulevard that leads west towards a small hill on which is perched the Presidential Palace. We noticed the Indian and US flags dotted around for the visit of President George W. Bush the following day, with warnings to avoid the area. Lucky we went that day! We walked the length of the Rajpath up to the gates of the Palace, before taking another suicidal auto-rickshaw back to the hotel.
The third day, we decided to head down to Nizamuddin train station to book our tickets to Agra. Now I've heard much about the ticket reservation centers in India, but again, it didn't prepare me for it. We ended up queuing for over an hour, at numerous counters, computers going down, forms to fill out, and no real queue to speak of. Just like getting on the trains in General Class (the lowest class), it's really just first come, first serve. Well, we survived, only to find out that we could have bought the tickets back at New Delhi train station, a 5 minute walk from our hotel, and in a special 'foreigners only' queue that's quite fast. Oh well, it's part of the experience I guess.
From there we headed to Ansal Plaza, so that I could buy a new power cable for my iPod (well, my sisters backup one. Mine packed up, and is being fixed in Bangkok under warranty) since my one won't work with the older models. I'm not having a good time with electronic stuff so far on this trip. I've had a memory card pack up on me, my iPod is messed up, and now my digital camera is having problems, sometimes taking weird psychedelic photos. I might have to buy a new one soon if it packs in. That's even more money down the drain. I sometimes think something is conspiring against me and this trip!
So anyway, we ended up checking out at 1am that night, before out train at 7:15am. Why you ask? Well, the hotel charges by 24 hours, not a specific check-out time, so if we had stayed after 1am, we would have been charged an extra night for just 5 hours stay (as we had to get up at 6am to catch the train). So we slept on the roof (they didn't mind). That was interesting. It was freezing. And mozzies were abound. Glad Mel bought me a nice comfy sleeping bag for Xmas! Turns out we should have just stayed the night, as they overcharged us. We stayed for 3 nights, and paid for 3 nights, but forget we had paid one night in advance when we first checked in. It was too late by then as we were long into our train journey to Agra. At least getting on the train was no problem at all. We had reserved seats in Seated Class, not General (even though we had asked for the cheapest fare). It's pretty organised. You arrive on the platform, and there's a huge list of names with your carriage and seat number. Nice. Maybe all the paperwork, computer entry etc. at the booking office was worth it.
So anyhow, here I am in Agra. It's so quiet and nice compared to Delhi. The hotel here is fab, with amazing views of the Taj Mahal. I'll post again with all the photos from here once I get to Jaipur, as we're visiting the Taj Mahal tomorrow (it's closed on Fridays).

The Birthday Bash

Filthy streets. Potholes. Stagnant water. Music blaring from bars every 10 meters. Old foreign men with young thai ladies on their arms. Whores grabbing you every 5 meters. Bright lights. Flashing neon signs. Trendy upmarket restaurants. Huge discos. Girly bars on every street. Armani. Gucci. Boss. All copies at the tailors mind you. Witnessing motorbike accidents. Backpackers galore. Families with young kids. Drunk people everywhere. 5 star resorts. Low down bungalows. Used syringes on the beach.
Welcome to Chaweng beach, Koh Samui. Half way round the world from England. 50km from Koh Tao, but almost half a world away.
What a culture shock. Ok, so I was in Thailand anyway, but after almost 3 weeks on the quiet paradise of Sairee beach on Koh Tao, Chaweng beach on Samui is possibly the biggest sh*thole I have ever witnessed. It's hard to believe that this was once a paradise island.

Click here to see the photos

Although the setting sucked, the company more than made up for it. Kosh and I were picked up at Mae Haad, the boat port on Koh Tao, by the birthday crew on our own chartered dive boat. It was kind of sad to say goodbye to all the people at Ban's, but I'll be seeing most of them again in the summer when I get back to finish my Divemaster course. Unfortunately, most of the Divemaster trainees I will probably not see again as they'll have finished and left by then. Ling, Chris (aka Dodgy), Ed, Adam, Lucy, Martin (aka MJ), Chris' sister and her boyfriend, Eric and Mara were all aboard the boat when it picked us up. I was fantastic seeing all my friends again! Cue a couple of dives around Koh Tao and a 2 hour ride back to Koh Samui where Kosh and I checked into the Matlang resort at the north end of Chaweng beach. Adam and Lucy were staying there too, and the rest were staying at a 5 star hotel (a 'Boutique' one mind you) just next door. Everything here is 'Boutique'. Even the domestic airline, Air Bangkok, is labelled 'Boutique'. What the hell is it supposed to mean?! If they have 'Boutique' before the name, it means they can charge you twice as more?
We had a fab time eating out, although at a high end Italian, or Brazilian steak house, or trendy seafood restaurant. Not a huge amount of drinking mind you, I think hitting the 30 year old mark has affected Ling and Chris! Although one great night at a bar called Rice with some shooters redeemed them. I think the DJed fell in love with us, as we were the only group dancing and whooping along in an otherwise empty bar.
The day after the first day of diving we spent relaxing. Most people went their own ways to do their own thing. I spent over an hour in the Samui Hospital getting my final JE vaccination. Then met up with Kosh at the beach side bar at Matlang resort for a couple of beers.
The second day we headed to Sail Rock, off the north of Koh Phangan, for a dive, followed by a second one in a beautiful bay on Phangan. Cue plenty of pranks, pushin each other off the boat, including the boat boys who were a great laugh! On the third and final day, we headed to the An Thong National Marine Park to the west of Phangan for some good dives. More hijinks in between dives! Beer drinking on the way back afterwards. Made a rocket out of a plastic water bottle with a hole cut in the bottom. Attached it to the air cylinders for the scuba gear and switched it on to shoot the bottle the length of the boat!
Ling, Kosh and I decided to leave the day beforehand back to Bangkok (seems so much nicer after Chaweng! And you thought Bangkok was mad!!) so Ling and Kosh could do some shopping at Chatuchak market before Ling flew back to Hong Kong on Sunday. We went to Bed Supperclub again to meet up with Mel, Kriss and a bunch of friends of theirs for a leaving party (Juliana, a friend of Mel's).
Kosh stayed on a couple of extra days, and we went to see Mel and Kriss' new pad which they'll start doing up in a few months when they get it. Had a walk round the area they will live in and had some soup noodles down a back street and checked out a temple nearby.Monday, I finally flew to Delhi, India.
So here I am finally, in India. Won't do an update for Delhi now as I haven't done all the photos yet or given you the lowdown on the birthday week. Been here for two days so far. It's pretty insane! I'm off to Agra day after tomorrow, so I'll probably do an update tomorrow evening before I head off to give you all the gossip on Delhi!