A Hard Earned Thrist Needs A Big Cold.. Aeroplane?

The only thing I can really say about Varanasi was that it was cold and dead. Not dead as in quiet, as there was plenty happening along the river and in the streets, and not cold as in the dead were cold, they were burning on the side of the river, the smoke pouring out earily accross the river to connect with the fog that prevented us from seeing what was on the other side. We stayed in a guest house on the water front, drinking twice as much chai just to keep warm, and listening to the same cd of chants dedicated to Shiva, God of Destruction. The songs were quite sweet, but overly repetitve and we found ourselves walking around singing them like songs from playschool. After spending half a day getting lost in the city, we decided to just chill out and prepare for the several train and plane journeys we were both about to make.

We caught an overnight train to Agra, which was supposed to get there at 5AM so we could get to the Taj Mahal in time to see the sun rise, however it was running on "Indian Time", which meants it was 4 hours late. We quickly cloaked our bags and got a rickshaw to the Taj. Our driver was lovely and went to extreme length to describe to us what to do and not do on our visit, despite the fact he had a terrible saw throat and was struggling to explain. Once in it was a slow wander around the front of the first gate, but then seeing the Taj through a doorway in the distance, my heart stopped a moment and I realised I was actually there, it was there, I was seeing the real thing. There were swarms of tourists, more than I've seen yet but it was expected, and it didn't matter because the Taj was all that mattered. The size of it forcing you to approach it slowly, we spent hours admiring it from every angle, the way it perfectly catches every aspect of the sunlight, amazed at the precious and semi-precious stones inlaid in the marble, catching the light and making it sparkle. We left feeling energised and hungry, and after a quick lunch we boarded our train to take us back to Delhi.

We met some lovely guys on the train, some of whom were practising their English for the first time on a traveller. The questions were very forced and considered, but it was great to hear some of the stories and, and the cultural differences really put things into perspective. We arrived in Delhi, exhausted and ready for bed. We planned our trips out of Delhi, and after a short sleep I was saying goodbye to Alana and on my way to the airport. Catching a domestic flight was not without the usual Indian bureaucratic nonsense, and in the nick of time I was looking at my plane. I knew it before, but when I looked up at the aircraft I noticed that the airline was "Kingfisher". The biggest brand of beer in India also owns and airline. Unfortunately they didn't give otu free samples, but the plane got in on time (surprise) and I was in a taxi rushing to catch a train within the hour. I got there in time to find that my reservation had not been confirmed, and that I had to buy a ticket in the general area. I wouldn't have minded had it not been a 2 night journey, and the only place to sleep was either on a wooden bench or on the floor. I was woken up at midnight at the end of the line, confused and thinking I had missed my stop. I sat there while individually different people introduced themselves to me, one guy who spoke no english but bought me a 7-up! Eventually one young guy knew where I was supposed to be going and got me on the train, I arrived at Varkala station at 3:30 am, Christmas Day, no idea where I was but happy to not be on a train. I was soon at the waterfront, enjoying the sound of the waves and the cool salty breeze. I eventually woke up to the situation and relised I needed a room, knowing that if I stood under a street light and looked pathetic I'd be spotted straight away. Surely enough I found a room, and after a few hours sleep I couldn't resist walking along the cliff edge of this paradise. They call it "God's Own Country", and it's nothing short of the trut, though I didn't realise god enjoyed shopping.

So now it's just me, alone on a cliff edge, about to have some fresh prawns and a beer and really, really missing you all... *cough* no really.

Merry Christmas!

Shaun.

Lalu, Papu, and Michael Jackson

Our bus ride to Jaisalmer was the worst I've had yet. Whilst listening to a horn the range and length of a cartoon theme-song, and with a driver cutting corners and going over speed humps at break-neck speed, we arrived in Jaisalmer 3 hours earlier than scheduled, which was strange considering we left 2 hours after we were supposed to. Trying to make sense of anything, with several people shouting at us about different guest houses, I had the suspicion that this was a planned deal between the driver and the touts (the guys trying getting a big fat payment for taking us to their friends guest house). Luckily I had already planned to stay at the last guest house I was at 3 years ago, and so they turned their attention to the young Japanese girl in the booth next to us. I recognised a voice, and asked the young man nearest what his name was. He said "my name is Johnny, why?" I couldn't believe it! "Little Johnny" I shouted. It was one of the guys working at the guest house I stayed at the first time. Having been 3 years I forgave him for pretending to remember me, but he gave us a huge discount on the best room I've stayed in, which was a relief after the bus ride.

We didn't want to waste any time so Johnny dropped us into town on his motorbike. We were staying inside the fort, so imagine the 3 of us on the one bike, riding through lanes only 2 people wide, full of residents, tourists and cows, all while not being able to hold onto Johnny (it would make him lose his balance apparently). The markets are wonderful, just like anywhere in India there is everything you could ever need. But the main attraction is the tiny shopfronts with individual tailors, the sounds of their old fashioned sewing machines echoing around corners. I eventually found the tailor I went to last time, Dungar, who invited Alana and I around for dinner, which consisted of sitting on his sons bed drinking beer with him and his friend with a television on in the background showing a Hindi dubbed version of Lord Of The Rings, then being given some food at near midnight, and a wobbly motorbike ride back to the fort in the moonlight.

Though I couldn't have said no to the beer, it's not the best thing to do the night before a camel safari into the desert. After some interesting sightseeing in a "luxury car", we were introduced to our lovely camer driver, Matar. We headed into the desert, which is mostly just a rough landscape of shrubs and the occasional tiny village. We stopped for some campfire lunch, and when asked what the names of the camels were, Matar replied "Lalu, Papu, and Michael Jackson". After a song or two from the camel (something between a cry and a burp), we headed on until the sun was nearing the ground, and we set up camp at some beautiful big sand dunes. Matar fed us again, asked us again how we were, and when replying "good" for the 100th time, he would say "thankyou" with a big smile. Just as the sun went down, the full moon came up at the opposite end of the sky like a subtle reflection, and we fell asleep to the soothing local Rajasthani songs sung by Matar.

Our final day involved a lot of running around, and even more motorcycle mayhem as Johnny tried to shout us lunch AND get us to our bus on time. We managed to get a quick photo in while the bus was moving, we jumped on for our next destination, Jodhpur. We were only there one day, but they had one of the most amazing forts, with an audio guide so well organised we wanted to do it twice. We managed to get ourselves on a train to Varanasi, which was only supposed to be 24 hours but managed to be an extra 8 hours late due to immense fog. It's still quite foggy so we can't see much yet (but we can smell something that's bound to be interesting). More about that later!

Mr. Shaun

Politics in Pushkar

Hello sir, hello madam,

Arriving in Pushkar was like opening the fridge on a stinking hot day. The bus ride was not so long, which meant the memories of the chaos of Jaipur were still heavily in our memory. The first thing we were prepared for was to be harassed as soon as we got off the bus. This led us to walking very quickly towards town, only to realise a while later that the town was in the opposite direction. Once we actually made it into town, everyone was so calm and nice that we couldn't believe we were still in the same country.

On a recommendation by Jeremy we found a place run by a lovely family, mostly by one young man named The Laxman (lukshman), who immediately had an ice cold bottle of lime soda in our hands and led us to the rooftop to look over The Lake. I give it a title because it deserves one, this lake is like an oasis surrounded by elaborate ivory sandcastles and overlooked by hills boasting beautiful temples on either side. The day after we arrived, we noticed a lot of drama and noise through the main bazaar, which our guest house was on. It turned out to be the result of the recent Rajasthan election, and the local candidate who was voted back in was riding atop a car covered in many people and fabrics and jewels and flowers that were being thrown from the people in the street. The music blasting, we watched from the balcony as people danced and cheered into the night.

Unsure of what else to do here except relax, I'd find myself grabbing a chai and sitting on the rooftop in the twilight, feeling the breeze from across the lake and being reminded of home. It is also a good place for people (and animal) watching. A couple of young men in tight jeans and slicked black hair on motorcycles overtaking a Saddhu (religious man in bare feet, robes and a turban), only to be blocked off by a cow eating a discarded plastic back of some vegetable. A progression of gypsy woman carrying the days pickings in large sacks on their heads, their bodies covered in every colour, and whatever isn't covered in fabric is sporting gold and silver jewellery. Monkeys trying to steal shoes from people doing religious ceremonies by the lake at sunset. If you watch it long enough it almost starts to make sense, but I'm glad it doesn't.

The only other big thing to do here is shop, and we've done most of that in half a day. We spent an hour and a half in a Rajasthani antique shop run by a man who leads many protests and actions for the people of Pushkar, and also donates a lot to charity with the money he raises from doing shows at big festivals. After that we were invited into a shop selling oils, and after being covered from head to toe in every scent possibly imaginable, we couldn't resist buying a few. So now, very relaxed and smelling oh so pretty, I must say goodbye, until next time in Jaisalmer!

Love to you all!

Dilly Delhi and Hyper Jaipur

Well I made it, after much panicking and little organisation. After an exhaustive plane trip involving a fuel stop in singapore, a 5 hour maze game called Dubai airport, and a few hours spent milking the free drinks they give you with Emirates, Alana and I finally arrived in Delhi with a mixture of excitement and wanting to turn around and go back. Standing in the taxi terminal is like standing at the edge of a giant whirlpool. Once you jump in you know you've got to keep swimming. My memory kicked in at just the right time to find our guest house, and a place to book bus tickets out of there.

After sleeping for about 12 hours, we took a deep and stepped out into the main bazaar of Pahar Ganj, Delhi's tourist sanctuary. We had a few things planned that day, and luckily managed to avoid getting scammed by dodgy rickshaw drivers (a moustache and some knowledge of Hindi go a long way). We were both still finding our feet, completely overwhelmed by all our senses, and managed to make it back to our guest house in time for some rooftop dining before meeting our dodgy travel agent. Soon enough we were on a sleeper bus out of there (imagine a coffin with a cushion and a window) and on our way to Jaipur.

Having neither of us been here before, we were confused where we were deposited at 5am, and just as we were about to find our way, we managed to get talked into taking a rickshaw ride down a street or two, until the driver asked someone for directions, then proceded to tell us that where we wanted to go was 10km away, and we should stay at this guest house. We laughed and walked away, another 800m to the place we wanted, and were very glad to find they had hot water. After a short nap we decided to venture out to the markets, and found it ridiculously busy with traffic, and after buying a thing or two we found out it's actually election day for Rajasthan, which made the trip back to our guest house even crazier.

So we are now taking it easy, hoping to get a decent nights sleep. I'm about to buy some lime sodas and sit on the rooftop listening to the peculiar chorus of hindi pop and car horns. We will stay here another night before heading to beautiful Pushkar. Namaste and love to you all.

Shaun.