India: Pushkar

What a refreshing change Pushkar is from Jaipur! After sleeping in and enjoying a late breakfast, I left the dirty pink city and made my way to the small town of Pushkar, arriving around 6:00 pm. After checking into a kitschy family-run guesthouse, I wandered through the dusty winding roads, passing friendly shop owners, curious children, and the occasional "Holy Man," dressed in orange lungis.

At nightfall, I went to the rooftop restaurant of the guesthouse, where I immediately joined three other girls, two of whom were fellow Americans (Catherine and Emily are perhaps only the second and third American girls I have met since traveling!). We chatted aimlessly, played cards, and then watched a loud wedding procession make its way through the streets below. It is currently "Marriage Season" in Rajasthan, so the sounds of beating drums and melodic flutes echo through the streets at all hours of the day while grooms ride white horses flanked by dancing men and musicians to meet their wives-to-be, dressed in elaborate red saris and joined by other colorfully adorned women.

Heavy rains began to pour that night, signalling the arrival of the anticipated monsoon. I was surprised to find a few cockroaches scurrying out of the drain in the floor of my bathroom; I was appalled that these few menaces were followed by at least one-hundred more (not an exaggeration!) disgusting creatures...more roaches than my shoe could kill! Amazingly, as soon as the rain stopped, the roaches had disappeared, but it still made for a sleepless night!

Friday morning, in need of a day of relaxation, I joined the other girls in paying 50 Rupees for a day swimming and sunbathing at a hotel pool. It was the perfect day, and I was happy to get some color on my increasingly-paling body. After a cool shower, camera in hand, I again wandered through Pushkar, one of Rajasthan's most holy cities known for one of the world's only Brahman temples and a large lake surrounded by sacred ghats, places where pilgrims bathe and present offerings. I was met by a guide who showed me how to conduct the ceremony of blessing my relatives and friends, throwing flowers, salt, and other offerings into the water, finished off by tying a puja bracelet to my wrist. He then demanded a "donation" as I expected, and put him in his place after he tried to complain about my meager, backpacker gift of 50 rupees...I told him that his god would not mind.

That evening, the girls and I settled in a local guesthouse to watch Germany beat Argentina...a perfect ending to a perfect day.

Even though I love Pushkar and could spend another week wandering through this enchanting town, with its courtyards filled with pilgrims coming to dip in the holy waters, aspiring young cricket players, smiling holy men with dreadlocked-hair, and the ubiquitous hordes of lazy cows, I need to move on. In a few hours I head to Bundi, another small village in Eastern Rajasthan.

India: Jaipur

After a long day that began in Delhi, wound its afternoon through the nerve-rattling but relatively beautiful Taj Mahal, and neared its finale in a first-class, air-conditioned, filled with screeching child-demons from hell train compartment, I finally arrived in the dusty Rajasthani town of Jaipur around 11:00pm. I wearily climbed out onto the street and hired a rickshaw, which dropped me in a seedy-looking area for a short saunter to the Evergreen Guesthouse. I gladly paid the 200 Rupees (it has a pool!) and made a mad dash to my room, just in time to be sick. Whatever I had eaten during the day, be it the vittles from Naresh's mother's kitchen, the butter naan from the shack by the train station, or...hmmm... maybe the Agra vendor's lukewarm spiced lime soda half filled with tap water, did not agree with me! I immediately crashed into a long sleep in my dorm-like room.

I awoke yesterday morning still feeling the effects of the previous day's havoc on my stomach. I had breakfast and plans for the day were made, but I only made it back into my bed. I finally picked myself up around 5:00 pm, walked to the bus station to take care of onward tickets, and weakly hired a rickshaw to take me to the movies...the Raj Mandir Cinema, that is. I decided to catch a Hindi flick in the country's most famous movie theatre, so after standing in another "Ladies Only" line, I bought some popcorn and found my seat. The huge cinema was packed with a hooting and whistling audience, and I dare say the film did not disappoint. The evening's showcase was "Fanaa," which started out as a romance comedy/musical. After the fifteen-minute intermission, the film took a turn for terrorist bombings meets murder meets reunited-but-doomed love. Touching. It was all in Hindi, of course, but it was not hard to get the gist of it. After the film ended, I walked home, watched a bit of the Brazil game, and went to bed.

This morning, feeling much better, I decided to see the sights of Jaipur. On my walk to the old "Pink City," I met an Indian man named Aju, who began talking to me and asking me questions. He seemed innocent enough, and I was in a much better mood today, so I allowed him to take me to the top of a building to show me a bird's-eye-view of the city. After that, he asked me to join him for chai, and I kindly accepted his offer; to his offer of taking me on his motorbike to meet his enlightened yoga friend, I kindly declined. I said goodbye, and was soon wandering through the old city streets. I eventually smacked into the Hawa Mahal, a gorgeous medieval fort-like building with spectacular views of the busy streets below. It was a blazing hot day, so I spent as little time there before making my way to the City Palace, home of the current Rajah.

Just as I was entering the Palace grounds, four cheeky Indian girls wrapped in sarees approached me, telling me how beautiful I was, trying on my jewelry (I got over the whole sharing-earrings hygienic thing a long time ago!), and asking for money and "Chips-ee". They dragged me to a street vendor selling dal mala (or something like that...it's basically a little cup of spicy dal, tomatoes, and onions pepped up with spices and lime juice...yummy!). I bought them each a cup, one for myself, one for another hungry little boy, and together, surrounded by tons of curious rickshaw drivers, we ate. Smilingly, I told them to get lost, and made my way to the Palace entrance, which was nothing too exciting, and, unable to bear the heat any longer, I hopped on a rickshaw back to my guesthouse.

I finally indulged myself in the one thing that drew me to the Evergreen Guesthouse: the pool. It is a cloudy water pit on the terrace of my hotel, but after changing into my swimsuit, I happily jumped in (I did not put my head under, Mom!). I peacefully basked in the late afternoon sun and periodically dipped in the empty pool until my growling stomach got the best of me. I just had a huge dinner, and now it is internet time!

Well, I am happy to say that my stomach is almost back to normal, I am finally adjusting to the climate change, and my pity-party is officially over. I am even re-learning how to ignore the constant staring and molesting (my boob got poked today and I did not even have any obscenities tease my lips!). Tomorrow morning I hope to lie by the pool and relax in time to make my 1:00 pm, five-hour bus to my next stop in Rajasthan: Pushkar.

India: Taj Mahal

As soon as Jon and I arrived in Delhi Saturday morning, we hooked up with Stu and Hannah at their guesthouse and all went to lunch. I spent the next two days mostly milling about town with Stu, helping him with some last-minute shopping before we said goodbye and he left for the airport Monday morning. On a sad note, I received an e-mail that my grandfather had passed away Friday. I was able to call home and speak to my mother, feeling very sad and helpless and sorry that I could not be with the family.

Still feeling rather sad and lonely, I boarded a Monday morning's train to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. About twenty minutes into the trip, a greasy young Indian boy sat right next to me in our nearly-empty compartment. I ignored him at first, but then he continued to brush his feet against my legs and began speaking gurgling Hindi to me. I finally told him to get lost, and when he eventually left, he grabbed my nose! I was angry, but I guess a little nose grab is better than a boob grab, so I let it go. Later, another guy sat next to me, but he was a genuinely friendly person, and after a few hesitant, "My nose just got molested!" moments, I began chatting away to him. He even offered me some of the lunch his mother had prepared! What a gem! Finally, as our train pulled into the Agra Fort Station, I bade Nishan goodbye, whistled for a rickshaw, and began my ride to the great Taj Mahal.

All throughout my ride through the winding streets to the Taj entrance, to my traipse through the wooded walkway to the entrance, I received tons of google-eyed stares, near-begging by anxious rickshaw drivers and tour guides, as well as snide Hindi catcalls (and I assure you, I was not a thing of beauty in my sweaty attire and disheveled hair!). I ignored it, as I have learned to do in my nearly two blonde-haired years in Asia, and made my way to the entrance. I paid the exorbitant foreigner entrance fee of 750 Rupees, and stood in the "Ladies Only" security queue. I was surprised to find a few dandy transvestites (who later wanted to pose for photos with me), the first I have seen or even heard of in India, sharply elbow their way to the front of the line (I tried my hardest to resist, but those gals were just too strong!) Finally, I made it through the checkpoint and proceeded to the Taj Mahal (but not before a couple fat Indian brats screamed "White Monkey" at me...who do they think they are?!).

Apart from the now annoying staring, leering, lewd noises, and name-calling from the Indian tourists, the Taj Mahal was breathtakingly stunning. It is everything I was expecting and hoping for...and then some. The Taj was built by Emperor in the seventeenth century as a mausoleum to his dear wife, and one could literally feel the warmth and romance oozing throughout the grounds devoted to love. Now, I am anything but a romantic, but I could not escape feeling the warm fuzzies (and a bit of the "I'm single...Waaaahhh!" blues). I wandered about in tranquility, snapped some photos of the gorgeous gem-studded white marble structure and its accompanying mosques, and found a cozy bench to read and reflect (okay, actually I just wanted to finish my Sudoku puzzle!). Finally, the heat, stares, and annoying laughs got the best of me (I was not in the right mood, I suppose, in all my lonely, in the middle of puke-worthy romance state), and after telling a couple of crafty male potential photographers to piss off, I had to leave.

I made it back to the train station just in time to have a quick dinner of butter naan and chai, pick up my bag, and board the train to Jaipur. As I read this blog, it seems I had a bad day. Yes, my experience with Indian tourists was not what I was in the mood for, but the Taj Mahal was simply amazing...it was definitely worth every bit of the 750 Rupees I paid!

India: Decisions

After a farewell meal together Wednesday night, Jon, Hannah, Stu, and I squeezed into bed and managed to get an hour or two of sleep. At 1:15 am, Jon and I sadly bade our friends goodbye, and by 2:30 am were comfortable settled in a jeep with three Indian men and the driver and headed to Manali (so far so good, compared to the jeep with ten people that did not leave until 4:30 am on our previous trip!). This time around, I felt great and surprisingly well-rested, so I was able to enjoy the gorgeous Himalayan scenery, even successfully dozing off for a few catnaps throughout the trip.

Halfway to Manali, we stopped in Darcha, where I happily retrieved my camera with much relief. Finally, at 6:30 pm, sixteen hours after departing Leh and thanks to the daring and often dangerous driving and passing tactics of our driver, we arrived in Manali...I still cannot figure out why our first trip up north took twenty-one hours! Jon and I were tired, but feeling well, and after my first real shower in a week, we had dinner and finally crashed into bed before 10:00 pm.

I spent much of the trip south contemplating my next plan of attack for my travels in India. I had planned all along to check out Daramsala, the current home of the exiled Dali Lama, which is a ten-hour bus journey from Manali. However, I decided long ago that I must be at the Taj Mahal no later than the 26th of June to begin my tour through Rajasthan in Central India. In order to be successful in this endeavour, I would have had to leave Manali at 8:00 this morning, arrive in Daramsala at 6:00 pm tonight, leaving me with just one full day to wander about before taking a night train to Delhi tomorrow night that would get me into Delhi on the 25th.

I knew that was way too much traveling and money spent just for the sake of saying I have been somewhere, particularly after the numerous dismal reports I have received about Daramsala. Therefore, leaving it to chance, I did a quick eeny-meeny-miney-moe, and Delhi was the winner. Jon and I are boarding this afternoon's 3:30 pm, fifteen-hour overnight bus to Delhi. We will arrive at 6:00 tomorrow morning, which will put me ahead of schedule and provide me with some shopping time in the capital.

I am happy with my decision...I have seen numerous gompas and monasteries and Tibetan refugees while being up north, so it does not bother me to be missing Daramsala. In addition, Jon and I hope to meet up with Hannah and Stu again before they all fly back to England and I begin my solo travel through India!

India: Lamayuru and Alchi

Monday morning, Stu and I climbed aboard a rickety bus, managing to snag the last seats, the dreaded, avoided-like-the-plague uncomfortable back seats for the six-hour scenic journey through the Himalaya. We arrived in Lamayuru, a quiet village that is home to the north India's most famous monastery, two-thousand Tibetan refugees, and a couple small guesthouses and restaurants. After checking into our room with its immaculate views of the monastery and mountains at the Shangri-La Guesthouse, Stu and I wandered up to witness the most excitement Lamayuru has seen in a decade: the paving of the road that leads to the monastery.

A hundred freshly-shaved monks of all shapes and sizes, from the very young to the ancient, dressed in bright red robes, were milling about the monastery, munching on juicy cherries and stealing sips from flavored drink boxes. After checking out some of the various empty rooms of the monastery, Stu and I sat down and joined the monks in the excitement of the road paving. We eventually wandered down for a warm Indian meal before heading to the room for a hot bucket of water "bath" and passing out for the evening.

Tuesday morning, with hopes of witnessing a puja, the Tibetan Buddhist prayer ceremony, Stu and I were delighted to happen upon day one of an annual festival at the monastery. After a short procession through the Lamayuru grounds, we joined all the excited monks, elaborately dressed villagers, a large group of uniformed schoolchildren, and a handful of travelers in the courtyard to witness the unfurling of a massive, five-story silk banner from the top of one of the buildings. We sat for hours, enchanted by the chanting of the monks and the paying of respects by the villagers while sipping hot chai. Finally, tummies growling and the looming noon check-out from our guesthouse, Stu and I had lunch, gathered our bags, and were back to the courtyard in time to watch the closing Tibetan dance ceremony and final procession.

We then made our way to the main road to try our luck in hitch-hiking our way down to Alchi. We sat on the side of the road for two boring hours, throwing rocks, playing truth or dare, and soaking up the warm sun before a massive, elaborately decorated semi-truck rolled to a stop beside us. We jumped in, and I sat on a wooden box next to the driver while Stu squeezed his 6'4" body between an Indian military-man and a quiet hitchhiker in the bench behind me. The truck reeked of death (I swear the driver was keeping a dead body in the box that I chose as my seat), and after long, curious stares and a few stammers of communication, we were on the road. Halfway through the journey, Stu pinched my back, and I turned around to discover the army man's hand groping Stu's shivering leg. I spent the rest of the ride stifling my laughter while Stu tried to writhe himself away from the man's soft touch.

We finally reached the turn-off to Alchi about three hours later (after numerous frustrating delays due to road work), and Stu and I happily jumped out and said goodbye. After a four-kilometer hike through the winding roads and hills, we entered the tiny village of Alchi. We finally settled into an over-priced guesthouse without running water or electricity, ordered a hot Thali meal that was delivered to the room, and after another hot bucket bath, we fell asleep.

This morning we awoke to a gorgeous, sunny morning, and after breakfast, we wandered through the ancient temple compound of Alchi. We wandered through the elaborately-painted murals of the small rooms of the temple, all the while refusing numerous times to pay an unnecessary "entrance fee" (we gave a donation instead). With a few hours before our bus' departure time (no hitchhiking today!), we waded through the village's green wheat fields to a peaceful spot for a rest in the sun.

Finally, at 3:00 pm, we boarded a tight, uncomfortable bus, this time opting for the back seats because they offered the most room. We eventually arrived in Leh just as the sun was setting, and after a walk through town, we met up with Jon and Hannah just as they were leaving the guesthouse to do internet.

What a great adventure the last two days was! I love getting away from the main tourist destinations, and Lamayuru and Alchi were the perfect places to get a feel for true village life. Tonight the four of us will have our final dinner together, and at 2:00 am Jon and I are going to say goodbye to Leh and the others (they are flying back down to Delhi on Wednesday) and try our luck again by enduring the painful one-day trip back down to Manali. I definitely am not looking forward to it, but I have no other choice, as my camera is waiting on me in some police station halfway there. I hope to get at least an hour or two of sleep before leaving, and this time I am going to bundle myself up against the dreadful cold!

India: Tso Moriri Lake

Friday, Hannah and I awoke early to a cold and drizzly morning, rounded up our friends Jon and Brian, and after breakfast, we headed down to the Virgo travel agency to meet up with the others for our two-day camping trip to Pangang Lake. Altogether, there were thirteen of us (the other nine were boisterous Israelis), and after my quick scurry to a nearby shop to score some gloves and socks, we boarded two separate jeeps for the six-hour drive to the lake.

Just an hour into our journey, we were stopped by approaching cars that informed us that the road ahead was impassable due to heavy snows. Therefore, after several phone conversations with the tour operator in Leh, we unanimously voted to head to a different lake and campsite, Lake Tso Moriri, which was about five hours in the other direction and an additional 150 rupees more each. We had to wait for an hour for the tour operator to bring us extra sleeping bags (we were supposed to meet up with a returning jeep for supplies). Our next predicament came when, just an hour from our destination, we were refused the right to pass through a police barricade because the tour operator had made a mistake with one of the Isreali's passport numbers (police barricades are ubiquitous in this northern region of India, thanks to all the fighting in Kashmir). Finally, after obtaining permission from a superior officer, we were allowed to pass.

We finally arrived at Tso Moriri Lake just at sunset (we were due to arrive around 2:00 pm), appalled to find that we were to set up our tents in a nasty campground full of cow poo and trash. We opted to move to a more desolate spot beside a little stream, but that meant we were far from any view of the lake (which I would liken to the Atlantic, while the photos of Pangang Lake were reminicent of the Caribbean). Oh, and the surprises just kept on coming...we quickly allocated ourselves jobs...some people set up the tent (yes, tent...singular...the tour operator forgot to give us two tents, so that meant there would be thirteen people in one tent...if you want to even call an old, thin, hole-riddled parachute a tent!), some prepared dinner, some pretended to work, and I layered on as much clothing as possible...it was freezing! We had been promised firewood, but apparently the village around the lake did not have wood, so my search for something to burn came back with a big bag of cow dung...Indian firewood.

Finally, the tent was set up, the thirteen sleeping bags (some of which would not zip up) and mats miraculously just fit inside (we decided that no one would sleep in the jeeps...we would all tough it out together and keep as much body heat inside the para-tent/tent-a-chute as possible), and a candlelight dinner of mushy pasta, Israeli salad, bread, tea, and fried bananas was served. Around 11:00 pm, after scarfing down the delicious meal, we curled up in our sleeping bags and prepared for a long, freezing night (we found out later it went down to around 15 degrees F!). As soon as I set my head down on my makeshift pillow, I was wide awake. Finally, around 4:15 am, after hours of tossing and turning and two miserable bathroom trips outside, I gave up trying to sleep and waited for the sun to rise.

By 6:00 Saturday morning everyone was awake, and we began cleaning up the campsite while some of the Israelis cooked breakfast. After eating eggs, tomatoes, cucumbers, and potatoes, we packed everything away, wearily dragged our numb bodies into the jeeps, and made our way back to Leh. We arrived just after lunchtime, and after a semi-peaceful chat with the tour operator (we refused to pay the extra 150 Rupees), we finally made it back to the guesthouse.

I have to say, even though we encountered too many mishaps and problems, not to mention that I was completely underdressed for the extreme, below-freezing weather, I had a great time. I love camping, and I love any experience that makes for a good story...otherwise, it would have just been another, unforgettable jeep ride to a lake!

Last night we ate dinner and watched a bit of soccer (I only managed to witness the first ten minutes of the USA match before finally succumbing to my exhaustion). This morning Hannah, Jon and I, along with Stu (another fellow from the UK), took a taxi to a nearby gompa, or Buddhist monastery. We wandered around and snapped some photos in the crisp air before coming back to Leh. Tomorrow, Stu and I are taking a bus up north to Lamayuru, home of one of the largest and most famous Gompas in the Ladakhi region, and Wednesday we will travel to the little village of Alchi before making our way back to meet the others in Leh on Thursday. I am excited to do some exploring!

India: Leh

After a long, painful night running to the bathroom, I awoke Tuesday morning feeling exhausted, light-headed, and dehydrated. After freezing cold showers, Hannah and I, along with English Jon, decided to find a nicer guesthouse (the creepy, drunken manager had tried to make a pass on Hannah the night before). After a hot breakfast (of which I managed to put down about three bites) and much wandering about, we settled on the Otsal guesthouse, a lovely family-run place in the heart of Changspa in Leh, complete with immaculate views and hot, solar-powered showers.

It was 4:00 pm at this point, and my frail little body was beyond repair, so I took a much-needed nap while Hannah and Jon explored the town. They returned around 8:00 pm, and we soon embarked on a quest for Round 3 of my Rabies shot, which I was due to administer that day. None of the chemists in town carried the shot, thus allowing us our first (and hopefully only) Indian hospital experience. Hannah and I crept through the doors of the dismal place, fearing that just breathing the air would land us our very own beds. We found a nurse who took us through the dark, dusty corridors to a back office, where she opened a refrigerator and produced a box containing the very last Rabies shot. She looked at me and said, "You lucky! Last one!". I sighed with relief; at the same time, I hope that no one in Leh gets bitten by any rabid monkeys or dogs for a very long time...there is no telling when the next batch of medical supplies will make its way up the twenty-hour journey to town.

We all went for a Tibetan dinner (I still had no appetite) before finally making our way back to the guesthouse. I gave myself the shot, surprised that the action of getting out of bed and turning out the light left me breathless, and eventually passed out.

I awoke this morning still feeling rather ill. I took a hot shower, got dressed, and Hannah, Jon, and I headed for breakfast...I still could not eat! That is not normal for this girl! They managed to drag me into town and up a hill (I was huffing and puffing the entire way) to see Leh's ancient palace, which was built in the seventeenth century. The scenery from the top of the hill was amazing, with sweeping panoramic views of the snow-capped Himalayas, the moonscape of the rocky foothills, and the small homes in the valley below. We sat up top for ages, soaking up the sun and the views before a strong, chilly wind began to blow and a light snow began to sprinkle across our sunburnt faces. We headed back down the hill, had a light dinner in town (where I discovered with glee that my appetite had returned!), and went to a tour agency to meet some others about the possibility of a camping trip.

This morning we signed up for the two-day camping trip to Pangang Lake. I wanted to spend the afternoon shopping for some warm woolies, such as a hat, gloves, and a scarf, but just as we were sitting down for breakfast, all the shops in town began to close their doors and board their windows. Apparently, last night a fourteen-year-old Buddhist girl was raped by a couple of Muslim men...there have been problems in town lately between these two religious groups, so the shops closed down to pay their respects and demand more attention from the authorities. Therefore, we spent the afternoon wandering around the empty streets, finally finding a restaurant that was "secretly open" for some food and hot drinks. Tonight is the England match, so I am sure we will have no problem finding another "secret" place to enjoy the game.

On a final note, The good news is that I am feeling like I am finally acclimatizing to the high elevation here, and my trips to the bathroom are becoming few and far between. The bad news is that yesterday afternoon I received an e-mail from Chris, saying that he was bored and unhappy in Manali. I felt bad about leaving him down there, but he assured me that he wanted to relax for a few days while I headed to the Himalayas, and that upon my return we would begin our real travels together throughout India. Well, it seems he does not want to hang around India anymore, and instead wants to fly to Bangkok for a couple weeks before meeting up with me again in Bombay just before the start of our yoga course next month. I was really bummed out by this news, but I understand that Chris has been working hard in Korea, only finishing his contract last month, and he is looking for some relaxation and fun before he goes back to Korea. India is not exactly the place for relaxation and fun! Therefore, I will probably stay up north longer than I intended, and just go at my own pace from here...alone! Who knew??!! I have to admit, I am a bit scared of tackling India alone, but I am a big girl and will just have to gut it out for a month. Here's to hoping I meet loads of friendly folks with which to travel!

India: Manali-Leh "Hell"way

What a journey I have been through...it makes my eighteen-hour Cambodian "Hell on Wheels" experience seem like a walk in the park! After a long day in Manali, and a long evening watching soccer, Hannah and I were picked up by a jeep on a dark street in Old Manali around 2:00 am. The jeep took us to central New Manali, where we waited, waited, waited...finally, around 4:00 am, nine weary travelers packed into a tough, rough white jeep and began our journey north.

Hannah and I were hoping that we would be so exhausted from lack of sleep that we would instantly pass out as soon as we boarded the jeep...not so. The sun quickly began to rise, leaving us in bleary-eyed wonderment as we curled up winding mountain roads through the most fantastic scenery. We chatted it up with our fellow passengers, including a French couple, an American guy, and four young Indian men. Finally, around 8:00 am, we arrived at our first official passport checkpoint (due to the problems in the Kashmir region). I quickly jumped out in search of a toilet, only to be told that it was "Open." What does that mean? I soon discovered that "open" meant anywhere you could find a nice little private spot in the wide open space to relieve yourself. We eventually got back on the road, and around 10:00 am stopped for a breakfast break. I had a wonderful meal of aloo paratha (potato and flat bread) while our driver took a short nap, had a potty break in the "open," and thirty minutes later we were back on the road.

At this point, after over twenty-four hours of sleeplessness, I was feeling quite delirious, but I still could not manage to fall asleep...the scenery was stunning and the ride was incredibly bumpy, so no attempts at a nap were very fruitful. I chugged as much water as my body would allow, trying not to be hit with the altitude sickness that is all too common on the Manali-Leh Highway, the world's second-highest road. Unfortunately, I discovered around 3:00 pm that my camera was missing, and after a thorough search of the jeep, realized that I had left it at our breakfast spot hours before. I was bummed out, angry at myself, but too tired to really care about it.

At our third stop around 4:00 pm, everyone got out of the jeep for lunch. It was then that I realized I had absolutely no appetite. I was freezing cold, in my little ballet flats, gaucho pants, and thin fleece jacket. How was I to know that it is cold in the mountains? After all, I am a beach girl! Wrapped in my sleeping bag, I slowly sipped an apple juice and climbed back into the jeep. The bad news was that we still had a long, long way to go.

At our last checkpoint around 5:00 pm, the driver (who, I remind you, had been driving non-stop over the winding mountain roads for approximately thirteen hours at this point...I spent most of the trip watching his eyes in the rearview mirror to ensure that he did not doze off) called me outside to speak with the patrolmen. Apparently, he had told them about my losing my camera, and after a few minutes of an actual morse-code transmission, they let me know that the camera was safe and sound and waiting for me when I returned. I was ecstatic, and they took down my passport info while I repeatedly told them how much I loved them. Indians are good people, let me tell you!

Finally, we started on our final leg of the journey to Leh. Hearing that we had six hours left was not very comforting to me. I was exhausted, freezing cold, and definitely feeling the effects of the altitude. As darkness began to hug our mountain road, a light snow began to fall, pouring down as we reached Taglang La, the highest point of the road at a staggering 5328 meters! At that point, I was too tired, sickly, cold, and unmotivated to even get out of the jeep to snap photos (oh, yeah, and I did not even have a camera!). The jeep got going again, and around 10:00 pm we rolled into our last stop for dinner.

0ur poor driver was completely knackered, as were we, and even though we just wanted to get there, we knew he needed the rest. I tried to eat some food, but could only manage down a few bites. Finally, around 11:00 pm, we arrived in Leh. As usual, the jeep dropped us off on the far side of town, so after much arguing and hassling with taxi drivers, some people from our jeep and a few from another jeep, six in all, piled into a van driven by a thirteen-year-old with no sense of direction. After driving around town in search of guesthouses for an eternity, I threatened the kid with his life and directed him where to take us. We finally arrived in Changspa, a dark area of town that is a sort of traveler mecca. Hannah and I hopped out, and were followed by an Irish and an English guy, and together we located the nearest guesthouse.

When we arrived at the guesthouse, it took ages to awaken the drunken manager, but finally he put us in our rooms (and I will embarrassingly admit that I was on the verge of tears at that point...I might have thrown a few obscenities his way in my dazed state). I instantly crawled into bed, but was hit by feverish chills that wracked my entire body. I had no sooner dozed off before waking up with hot water in my mouth, knowing that I had about ten seconds to reach the bathroom down the hall. I ran to the door, which was locked, and tried with one hand over my mouth and one hand on the handle to open it, but to no avail. I started screaming for Hannah, but as soon as she awoke, I found the lock at the top of the door, flung it open, and made it to the bathroom just in time. Most of last night was spent with sprints down the cold corridor to the bathroom. As I write this, all I can think is...Was this worth it? I hope Leh proves to be the most fantastic place in the world, because it sure was pure hell getting here....which makes me realize, guess what "Leh" backwards spells?

India: Manali

Our final night in Shimla, Chris and an Israeli guy we met went to a pub while I visited the local crafts bazaar for some shopping. I managed to purchase a lovely pair of beaded, camel leather flats (I am determined to burn my grotty, unfashionable flip-flops!) and some beaded earrings, not to mention pose with about five Indian guys for multiple photos...I was feeling in a rather good mood, ignoring the fact that I am now the "girlfriend" of these fellas. I eventually made my way to the pub, where Chris and Uri had joined two friendly, straight-out-of-university Indian guys. We hung out with them for a bit before they dragged us into the adjoining discotecque for a few seconds of amusement...the disco was basically a small, stuffy room packed with young Indian guys (I was the sole lucky lady), bouncing and spinning around to Bollywood tunes. We snapped a few amusing photos before exchanging e-mail addresses (we hope to hang out with them again when we are back in Delhi) and heading to bed.

We awoke bright and early Thursday morning to make it to our 8:30 am bus to Manali. Our "Deluxe" bus was anything but, and just about every passenger other than Chris and I spent the entire bumpy, winding, sweaty journey with their heads out the windows. (One glance at the splatterings on the side of our bus during the occasional "chai breaks" was the unneeded explanation as to what those Indian folks were doing hanging out the windows!) We finally arrived in Manali around 7:00 pm and immediately took an auto-rickshaw to the Tiger Eye Guesthouse, located in the middle of a small farming community in Old Manali. We had an Israeli dinner of falafel before crashing into our cozy beds.

Friday morning Chris and I decided to change guesthouses, mostly due to the price (300 rupees was too much!) and also because I felt a bit weird traipsing through the poor villagers' community, outfitted in our expensive western clothing and rucksacks, with the people's everyday, hard-working lives on display for our entertainment...gulp, but not after I took a few photos...gulp! We ventured off to a recommended guesthouse, Rocky Way, located a long and steady hike through apple orchards and alongside a cliff overlooking the roaring river. We settled into the peaceful guesthouse, unpacked our bags, and ventured back into town.

Old Manali is a hippies' paradise...that is, if your definition of a hippy involves rambunctious Israelis fresh out of the army, dressed in flowing hippy skirts or saggy pants, topped off with dirty hair swaddled in scarves. Let us just say that Chris in his collared shirts and tailored Levi's and I in my clean hair and prissy (but casual!) clothes stick out like sore thumbs here. I continuously notice the disapproving and sometimes simpathetic stares from these "free souls," but I am sorry, I will never forsake fashion and adopt sloppiness for the sake of fitting in...even the Indians roll their eyes at these people! Actually, it seems that Chris and I are the only non-hippy Westerners that are traveling in India...and I hear it gets much worse in other places. Aaaahhh...let them have their fun...when they leave India it will only be a matter of time before they revert back to their "non-hippy" ways.

Anyway, back to the subject! Manali is beautiful! It is located in the foothills of the Himalaya, and from our guesthouse balcony we have dashing views over the river to the surrounding green hills and on to the tips of snow-capped mountains kissing the puffy clouds of the heavens. It is amazing! The town itself is nestled snugly amidst a large apple orchard, and small clothing shops (selling the ubiquitous flowy skirt and drug paraphanelia) line the narrow lane that winds through town. As I was wandering through the shops, I ran into Hannah, a lovely English girl that we briefly met in Shimla who also happened to be staying at our guesthouse in Manali (she is another "anti-hippy"). I later made my way to New Manali to hit the ATM and pick up injection #2 of my rabies treatment...after much encouragement by Chris, yielding his camera and ready for the photo-op, I successfully jabbed myself!

That night, Chris, Hannah, and I decided to check out a yoga class that was being offered at one of the guesthouses. We knew we were in for trouble when, after a few confusing conversations with the staff, Sam the teacher arrived. He was overweight, splattered in paint (we swear he was one of the construction workers called away from duty), and seemed quite nervous. I wish I could describe what our session was like, but words nor pictures could ever do it justice...instead of focusing on my breathing and stretching, I spent the entire time unsuccessfully holding back my laughter. He was horrible, knew nothing of yoga, but his attempts made it worth every bit of the seventy rupees we paid!

After our amusing yoga session, we went to a nearby bar to watch the start of the World Cup. I love soccer, but Chris is an insanely avid fan. We watched the excellent opening Germany v/s Costa Rica match before opting out of the latter games and succumbing to sleep. Saturday morning we once again slept in, ate breakfast, and I had a little workout session on the roof of our guesthouse. We wandered into town for lunch, hung out by the river, and finally ended up back in a restaurant for the England/Paraguay match. Chris was nervously biting his nails and tapping his legs around all throughout the boring game...thank God England won! Hannah and I went to bed early while Chris stayed up for the following two matches.

This morning we once again slept in, had breakfast, and then headed into town. I have had enough of this place and want to head up north to Leh. Leh is a beautiful mountain village in the heart of the Himalaya, only accessible by a sixteen-hour bus or jeep ride on the world's second highest road. I am extremely keen on seeing more of the Himalayas and perhaps fitting in a short trek or two; Chris wants to relax and watch the World Cup. Therefore, we are going to part for a bit while I make the trip north with Hannah and Chris stays in Manali. He is going to take a five-day yoga course to keep himself busy, but I think he just wants to leave me in the dust when we do our yoga course next month. Anyway, we had the choice between breaking the trip into two days, which requires an overnight tent stay halfway there. We have opted for the bone-rattling, back-breaking one-day trip, which leaves tonight at 2:00 am and arrives in Leh around 8:00 pm tomorrow...just in time for me to wearily catch the USA vs. Czech-Republic game! I will probably hang out with Hannah in Leh for a few days before heading back to meet Chris in Manali and getting his lazy butt into gear for some more travel!

India: Monkey See, Monkey Do, Monkey BITE!!!

I have been anticipating June 6th with mixed dread and curiousity for about a month. Rightfully so, as I discovered yesterday! Chris and I awoke to the bleeping of my alarm clock around 8:00 am, soon making our way downstairs of the YMCA for our free breakfast of veggie patties, toast, and tea. Feeling energetic (I swear it is the crisp mountain air), I gave us a thorough, hour-long full-body workout session in our room, followed by a yoga lesson by Chris and then stretching. We eventually headed into town for lunch and some time on the internet.

Unfortunately, my tummy began to rumble, and I ran through town back to the YMCA, arriving just in time for another "head-in-the-toilet" episode. Feeling much better, Chris and I wandered back into town, stopping into our new favorite coffee shop for some lattes. We had only been parked on an inconspicuous ledge with our backs against an iron gate on the edge of a cliff for about two seconds before I felt a painful pinch in the center of my back. I immediately jumped up with a proper girlish shriek (as did Chris, complete with shriek), spun around, and was face to face with two leering, hissing, evil little monkeys on the other side of the gate, gripping the iron bars and ready to lunge for more. The first thought I had was to save my latte, so I quickly grabbed it, cursed a few obscenities at the little bastards, and laughing along with the amused Indian onlookers, Chris and I hurried away.

We wandered around town for a bit, checked e-mail and popped into a few shops before I decided I better get myself a rabies shot. I went to a little clinic, got a prescription, and picked up a shot and some antibiotics. Chris was too much of a weenie to give me the shot, so I went back to the doctor for the jab, my first of five that need to be applied throughout the next month.

So I suppose I was right about 6/6/06 being a bad omen. At the same time, I am the only person I know who has ever been bitten by a monkey, and frankly, I think it is pretty darn funny. I am convinced the evil S.O.B. with the nasty red hiney was inflicted with rabies...why else would he attack me out of nowhere? Monkeys are no longer cute. I decided to throw myself a pity party, so Chris and I got some ice cream before having beers at a dingy, dark pub.

Where my day had taken a turn for the worse, Chris' took a turn for the better. A group of Indian men were sitting behind me in the pub, and as they were leaving, they handed Chris a napkin. On the napkin they had written the following: "Your eyes are drop dead gorgeous. And your smile is so cute that I can't express it. Thanks for coming India. Take care. And you are most welcome to Ludhiana (Punjab)." I died laughing, and Chris tried to convince himself that the note was really for me. Everywhere we have gone in India, the men are extremely affectionate with each other, often holding hands. Poor Chris has not gotten so much as a look from any of the India girls, but apparently the fellas love him!

Chris and I finally made it back to our room around 11:00 pm last night, but not before visiting the local Dominoes pizza for a greasy, round, 8-inch ending to my surreal day. This morning Chris slept in while I had breakfast, and we eventually forced ourselves to head into town. We had wanted to take an overnight bus to our next destination, Manali, but unfortunately private tour companies no longer run overnights, and we do not have the guts or patience to deal with public buses. Therefore, we booked a bus for tomorrow morning that will get us into Manali around 5:30 pm. I am not looking forward to a ten-hour day trip, but I am sure the scenery will be incredible.

And a final word to the wise: Stay away from the monkeys!!

India: Shimla

On Sunday night, Chris and I happily boarded the overnight train that would rescue us from the depths of Delhi and take us up north to the town of Kalka. The train roared into life around 11:00 pm, and Chris and I settled into the upper berth of the cabin we shared with an Indian family of four.

We arrived in Kalka around 5:00 am and immediately boarded the "Toy train" to Shimla. We joined a small carriage full of middle-class Indian tourists and one cabin steward for the scenic, five-hour trip along the hills and mountain ridges of the north. We were served tea and biscuits just after the train departed at 5:30 am, and around 8:00 am we imbibed in an Indian breakfast of vegetable patties, toast, jam, and tea. As we neared our destination, the hill station of Shimla, our fellow passengers grew increasingly excited, singing various Hindu songs and chatting away happily.

We arrived in Shimla in the late morning hours, and with our bags, trudged up the winding streets to the main pedestrian walkway, also known as "The Mall". We eventually reached the YMCA, a beautiful and massive building with incredible, expansive views of the town below and the surrounding mountains and hills.

We soon discovered that we had arrived in town just in time for an annual festival of music, dancing, crafts, and even the "Miss Shimla" beauty pageant. After resting in our breezy room (which I truly believe is the best one in the building!), Chris and I headed into town and mingled with thousands of Indian tourists and the occasional Western backpacker. Shimla is a popular destination for honeymooners, and it is easy to see why. The climate is perfectly cool and sunny, the views are impeccable, and the thousands of monkeys that scamper about the clean streets make for an enchanting environment. We had lunch on a rooftop terrace before making our way back to the room. That night we had a little yoga session in our room, followed by a mean game of ping-pong downstairs (I kindly let Chris win five out of six games) before wandering back into town for a late dinner.

Before coming to India, I had heard horror stories about how the local men harrass Western women...as much as I love to travel alone, I knew that this was one place that I wanted to be accompanied by someone else, particularly a male. I was thrilled to pinky swear with Chris nearly a year ago in Korea that we would make the India trip together. Some of the advice I received from other travelers was to wear a ring on my wedding finger, insinuating that I was married and not "easy". I was also told (and read) to never shake hands with an Indian man, never make eye contact, and to be prepared for much groping and grabbing.

Well, I have met loads of single female travelers while here, and they seem to not have too many problems, but I am still glad that I have Chris with me. In Delhi, I received lots of the standard brushes and hands gliding across various parts of my body, but nothing too major. However, I was shocked to find that this lovely, innocent town has provided me with loads of uncomfortable moments. I seriously cannot walk five steps without getting oodles of "undress me" eyes, kissing sounds, and my all-time favorite, the wet, sucking sound from the men here. And all of this with Chris right beside me (he claims to give these Indian molesters menacing stares, but I have yet to see them)! I just ignore it and keep walking, finding it all quite amusing, really.

On another note, I am so happy to be traveling with Chris. He was my best buddy in Korea, and I cannot think of another guy I would rather be sharing this India experience with. Unfortunately, he is very gassy, and he continues to rip up our room, internet cafes, and restaurants. I laugh everytime it happens, which only encourages him even more. He uses all the toilet paper and never buys anymore, drinks all my water, and talks about football incessantly...I would say he is your typical English bloke. But I love 'em and wouldn't trade him for the world!

So far, Shimla is turning out to be a marvelous place. There is not much to do, but it is so pleasant enjoying the temperature and the views. Hopefully we do not find ourselves staying here for too long!

India: Smelly Delhi

After a three-hour flight in which I completely slept through, I arrived in dirty Delhi around 10:00 am, six hours after I was initially scheduled to arrive and meet Chris. I had figured Chris was asleep at the hotel, but after retrieving my bag, I was pleasantly surprised to find he had come back to pick me up from the airport.


Chris and Tiff...reunited! 

We took a taxi through the busy morning traffic of Delhi, taking in the sights of the multitude of exhaust-coughing buses and cars, barefoot locals, and cows that packed the dirty, dusty streets. We finally arrived in Paharganj, a seedy, stinky area popular with backpackers near the New Delhi train station. We had breakfast at Ajay guesthoused, our new home, before crashing into bed for a much-needed nap. We finally roused ourselves out of our room that evening, and walked through the rain for dinner at the nearby Metropolis restaurant.

Saturday morning Chris and I did not awake until nearly 3:00 pm. We had a lazy breakfast/lunch before heading to the train station to buy train tickets to get us the heck out of town. We then walked through the streets to nearby Connaught Place, a central shopping area with various cafes and restaurants. We parked ourselves in a pub, where we finally caught up on the last seven months since we saw each other. We had a late dinner and pool match at our guesthouse before finally going to sleep.


Dirty streets of Delhi. 

Unfortunately, the infamous "Delhi Belly" struck me that night, but after a few minutes with my head in the toilet, I felt much better. We had to check out of our guesthouse at 7:00 am this morning, so we hung out in the restaurant and internet cafe for a few hours before finally venturing out for a day of Delhi sightseeing.

Delhi is definitely the poorest city I have ever been to, as seen from the throngs of beggars, poor locals, and animals that roam the streets. We trudged up and down the mangy streets for over an hour trying to locate the Old Delhi train station, where I wanted to leave my rucksack. We jumped over cow patties and garbage, dodged erratic rickshaw drivers and taxis, all the while trying to breathe through our mouths to avoid the powerful stench of urine that we could never escape. Finally, giving up on our bad senses of direction, we hopped into a taxi for the trip to the station.


Part of Delhi's Red Fort. 

After checking my bag into the station's cloak room, Chris and I walked through the Old Delhi district to the Red Fort. We wandered through the area with the throngs of Indian men and sari-clad women, stopping occasionally to rest in shade due to Chris' typical English inability to handle the heat. We then walked to the Jama Masjid, the world's largest mosque, but by then we were too hot and bothered to go inside.

Unable to take another minute in the heat, and tired of being on our feet, Chris and I took a taxi back to Paharganj, where we settled into a restaurant to relax. We finally could no longer keep our eyes open, and, realizing that we could not make it to 10:45 pm without sleeping, we checked into a room and took a power nap.


Love those saris! 

We awoke at 8:00 pm, had dinner on a beautiful rooftop terrace, and have just arrived at the station. Our train is due to leave at 10:45 pm to Shimla, a hill station famous for its beautiful scenery, monkeys, and cool climate. We are ecstatic about finally leaving Delhi!

UAE: Side Trip to the Desert

What a strange week this has been! Well, after a grueling overnight bus to Bangkok that arrived just in time for me to catch a taxi to the airport and board my 9:00 am flight, I arrived in Abu Dhabi, UAE around lunchtime. As soon as I exited the airport, I was blasted by the strongest heat and most intense sun I have ever had the priviledge to encounter. I loved it. I then boarded another bus that took me through the desert until I reached Al Ain. My friend Tom met me just outside the bus, and after hugging our hello's, we took a taxi to his apartment.


Sunset over the desert.

Now, I embarked on this holiday with the intention of only traveling about Southeast Asia and India. I had no plans to visit the Middle East, and, quite frankly, I have never really had much desire to go there. Therefore, I had no idea what to expect. The UAE (United Arab Emirates) is a tiny country settled south of the Persian Gulf. It shares borders with Saudi Arabia, Oman, and is just a hop, skip, and a jump from Iran and Iraq. It is home to sheiks, women in black abaya , loads of foreigners (mostly Pakistan and Afghanistan workers), camels, sand, mountains, beaches, and the world's fastest-growing city, Dubai. I was excited about exploring this tiny country, to say the least!

After getting settled in, Tom, his roommate Chrishan, and I went out for a Chinese dinner to celebrate Tom's thirtieth birthday. I easily fell asleep that night, catching up on some much-needed sleep after all the travel I had been putting myself through the past week. I was awaken Sunday morning around 4:00 am to the eerily beautiful sounds of a man singing the Muslim prayers blasting through the mosque's loudspeaker. Amazing. Sunday was a lazy day for me. Tom went to work early in the morning (the work week in the UAE is Saturday through Wednesday, with Friday being the holy day).


Oasis in the desert.

That afternoon I went to the local mall, where I wandered around in awe at all the different people milling about, dressed in their customary clothing. I bought food at the market for dinner, and walked back to the apartment through the blazing heat (over 110*F!!!). Since the night before was relatively uneventful and we were all knackered, I cooked dinner for Tom and Chrishan and I, complete with birthday cupcakes and balloons to properly celebrate Tom's 30th. We all watched the newest Harry Potter on DVD before crashing for the night.

After Tom got off work on Monday, we rented a car and drove to the nearby country of Oman, where we explored a beautiful oasis in the middle of the desert, even hiking down into a vast wadi (a deep, dried-out canyon). On Tuesday, we drove out to the sandy part of the UAE desert, where we snapped some photos of camels and wandered around the dunes.


Me in the dunes.

On Wednesday, we loaded our climbing gear into the rented car and headed back to Oman. We found a beautiful crag on the side of a hot, brittle mountain, and spent the late afternoon climbing. It was probably the least favorite climbing I have ever done, especially considering how fragile the rock can be after being exposed in the intense sun and heat everyday. I even managed to break a hold while leading, but fortunately did not fall.

This morning, Tom and I drove to Dubai, a beautiful, coastal metropolis located two hours from Al Ain. We spent the first part of the day at the gorgeous, deserted beach before finding a lovely Western cafe for lunch. We spent most of the afternoon in the cool, air-conditioned eatery, drinking coffee and chatting. We eventually headed to the riverfront, where we wandered through the various markets before curbing my intense raw fish craving at a sushi joint.


Burj al Arab Hotel in Dubai.

Finally, we headed to the airport. My flight to India was initially scheduled to depart Dubai at 11:45 pm, which would have me arrive in the Delhi airport mere minutes after Chris' plane was to arrive. However, Air India called me this afternoon to inform me that the flight was delayed until 2:00 am. Therefore, I arrived at the airport and was in line to check-in just around midnight. Unfortunately, the girl at the counter informed me that the flight was now delayed until 4:00 am, but gave me a voucher for a free "dinner" (who eats dinner at 2:00 in the morning?) at the food court. I was exhausted at this point, so I found an uncomfortable chair in the terminal and sat waiting for the 3:00 am boarding time.


Mosque in Dubai.

Well, at 3:00 am I excitedly ran to the gate, eager to board my plane and get some sleep. However, I was again informed that the flight was delayed, now until 6:00 am. Frustrated, exhausted, and downright delirious, I found curled up on a chair and took a quick nap.

I am now waiting to board the plane. Fortunately, it finally arrived! I have a three-hour flight ahead of me (hopefully full of sleep) before I arrive in India. I cannot wait!