(This is Susanna making a guest blog appearance. )
So Ellen, Gillian and I had checked into our first hotel in Jaisalmer, where we were given the room directly behind the front desk, complete with window facing said desk. Relaxing that night, about to fall asleep, the quiet but distinct sound of Celine Dion being hummed by our extremely dignified, possibly Hare Krishna hotel proprietor came wafting in. Yes, Ellen confirmed it, that is definitely the Titanic theme song. Of course, we responded by singing along. Maybe it was that or maybe it was Gillian's late night political and philosphical discussions with the same fellow, and almost certainly his brother's obvious interest in Ellen played a part... in the Hotel Jeet Mahal becoming our adopted family for the week. And maybe the whole trip? We had a bit of a rough beginning since we were all a bit awkward in the bargaining department, which led to quite a scene, after which we flooded the bathroom and advised some other tourists not to stay there. But it turned out to have the best shower in all of India (as far as I know), a good internet connection, and a really sweet family that we kept going back to hang out with even though they never had space for us to stay there again after our camel adventures. We did get to use the shower again, thanks to Gillian's good work ambassadoring our successor in the reception room.
But we had to move on because I was due to fly out of Delhi and we still had an overnight train and another city and some national park exploring to do, so...
Into the wilds of rickshaw drivers, camel wagons, motorcycles carrying whole families, train stations jam packed with people , and the non a/c 2nd class 3 tiered sleeper car of the train. not for the faint hearted or the gastrointestinally challenged. Which, unfortunately, one often is when traveling in India. But we made it to: Jaipur! And immediately tried our luck with the morning bus to Bharatpur. Which we found to be a refreshingly pleasant location... clean rooms! bouganvillea! a balcony for hanging ALL of our handwashed clothing, and pretending to do yoga on! And the promise of bicycles for rent, from which we could happily explore the large bird sanctuary the next morning...
Gillian couldn't wait and borrowed a bicycle from the guy next door so she could go to the train station to get our tickets for Delhi. When someone asks you not to give them anything at all in exchange for a bicycle in India, watch out.. apparently there were no brakes, the seat was lopsided, and the pedals were about to fall off. But Gillian was very determined and off she rode into the sunset, with only the shouted directions of passersby, a constant and ever growing audience of locals, and a large swarm of gnats to keep her company. Gillian is my hero.
The next day we decided to walk to the park and rent bicycles there, only to discover that apparently the director of the park had, just a few days before our arrival, made a rule that no foreigners could ride bicycles in the park anymore. The rickshaw mafia stikes again! There were plenty of bicycle rickshaws, and we considered trying to rent one of them (without driver, so we could take turns pedaling) but decided that arguing with the park officials was a much more profitable approach. In the end, we walked. All day. But it was really lovely, and there were lots of amazing birds, even for three city girls, and monkeys and cows, and some sort of mysterious animal that apeared to be a cross between a cow and a deer but turned out to be the world's largest antelope. And then we got to have yummy banana pancakes for dinner. Or breakfast.
After that it was the morning train to Delhi, and my last day in India.
I miss you two, and I know you're having amazing adventures! Lots of love to ya
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
i don't know how i obnoxiously highlighted this...
although we have returned from our three day camel trek several cities ago, it is my duty to my mother to keep her updated, so here i go. what seemed like three pretty good days seemed like the pinnacle of my existence once i detailed our trip to our new found friend branden, who hails from dc. im sure i've driven up their business; which i guess is a good thing because i hold the camel drivers very near and dear to my heart.
setting: the thar desert, aka the younger sibling of the sahara. both are beautiful, cruel and unforgiving. at approximately 7:30 am, susanna, ellen and i crammed into the back of a jeep with our camel crew, which comprised of sylvia (from queens via columbia), tavis (from delhi via maryland), duncan (from bristol), dawn (from hong kong) and yoko (from shanghai via japan). ellen was chosen to be our "ambassador," which is our no-longer secret code for taking people under our wings, or basically forcing them to be our friends and love us forever. while she wasn't entirely satisfied with her role, i think she did a damn fine job, as all of the contact information given to us thus far has been legit...or so we think.
day one: light camel riding. there was lunch cooked under the shade of what i consider to be "a circle of life tree" and pleasantries exchanged as we all became friends. ellen, being a natural born leader was given the largest camel (mr. lalu) to ride. whilst susanna tried to help her get on, something went slightly wrong because in what could've been a live-action opening to the flintstones, ellen fell off. the camel was sitting as she kind of slid head first down it's neck before bobbing a bit and landing face first in the sand. it all happened in very slow motion, it was kind of surreal. but she got up, dusted off her khakis and tried to tame the beast somewhat more successfully. we stopped at what i think were two "villages," but we all felt awkward staring at the inhabitants and basically kicking sand or looking at more cows. after setting up camp at the base of some serious dunes, we all gathered around a campfire to engage in a sing-off against our leaders. they obliterated us as everything sung in hindi automatically wins because we can't really understand it, which only heightens its magical potential. our giant "mineral water" bottle and several pans served as instruments and we forced our comrades to wail madonna far into the night. we were additionally blessed with a full moon. in keeping up with my obsession with "bathroom culture," the desert became my powder room! aided by the moonlight, i was free to relieve myself anywhere without concerning myself with getting lost, stepping on a camel, or straying into a wild dog brawl (see night 2).
day two: sadly, three members of our party departed, as they had only signed up for the one day one night option that we didnt know existed. we said our goodbyes and promised to meet again as we watched them head back with our youngest camel driver, whom i affectionately call little korea. he had met his current korean girlfriend on a previous camel trek and refused to believe that dawn and yoko couldn't speak korean. thus, a lot of conversations ended with yoko screaming, "im japanese!" after the first lalu incident, the camel drivers decided that i (the shortest member of any crew that doesnt contain people under the age of 10) should ride the lalu. this resulted in me having to be heaved atop the horny beast every time we stopped. i forgot to mention that most of the camels were in heat. thus, every time they sensed a female about 10-15 km away, they started foaming at the mouth. this was also accompanied by the sound of blowing bubbles in chocolate milk in stereo as blew air into their tongues that also drooped out the side of their mouths. it was a mess. there was camel hormone foam all over my shoes and jacket, thanks to my transfer to the lalu, the horniest of them all.
day two was a bit of a disaster once the drivers decided the camels should run. after about 30 minutes, we all complained of severe thigh aches and took turn walking our camels. we stopped in another two villages, the second reminding me a bit of the amish horror films that are shown on tv late at night. we were greeted by a couple of girls. one had drawn random symbols on her face with marker and was fond of flipping up her eyelids and growling at us. her smaller companion donned a filthy trucker hat, which she lifted to reveal a head full of fleas? lice? i cant be too sure. she kept trying to remove the insects from her hair and toss them into ours. i decided to slip away from the crowd, my hygienic safety at risk. unsuccessfully, i was approached by a little pint sized boy who aggressively tried to trade his ball (which appeared to be a paintball that never exploded) for my eyeglasses. in an effort to keep him at bay, i decided to engage in a game of catch with him. by this time, flippy eyelids had sauntered over, obviously upset about the lack of attention being paid to her. grabbing the ball, she pegged me hardcore in the leg, leaving me with a sweet black and blue. abandoning the operation all together, i tried to see how yoko was doing. she was trying to get a shot of a small puppy, but every time she was about to click the shutter, a demon child would pop a body part into the frame. flippy spit at her and susanna. defeated, we trekked back towards the drivers, begging them to take us away from this place.
the winds were strong as we settled down to camp. there was the usually wonderful meal of chapatti, chai and some vegetable mush that was utterly delectable. upon discovering the i had my italk in my bag, we managed to record some of the camel drivers songs on yoko's ipod. their eyes glistened as they got to listen to the playback of their voices, and kamal started tearing a bit. we promised to make them a cd and send them some of our old discmans as soon as we returned to our countries of origin. settling down under a full moon once again, we were awoken in the middle of the night by sounds of barking and pissing. it seems (my head was hidden far under the blankets) that a pack of wild dogs were fighting over the remains of our dinner right next to our heads. it was insane. i was a little freaked, as i didnt have my neosporin in case of a large fight. 15 minutes into the massacre, one of the camel drivers awoke to shoo them away, and the rest of the night was quite pleasant.
day three: heading back to the jeeps. i was a little sad to leave mr. khan and kamal in the desert, as they had become my pals. they taught me how to clean plates in the desert (using sand!), pack up a camel, make them run and sit, it was pretty crazy. but they had a new group to meet and i had some serious showering to attend to. upon our return, we were greeted by our little family at the hotel jeet...it was sweet. and it rhymes...and i have to go write an email to my man, so that's all for now.
setting: the thar desert, aka the younger sibling of the sahara. both are beautiful, cruel and unforgiving. at approximately 7:30 am, susanna, ellen and i crammed into the back of a jeep with our camel crew, which comprised of sylvia (from queens via columbia), tavis (from delhi via maryland), duncan (from bristol), dawn (from hong kong) and yoko (from shanghai via japan). ellen was chosen to be our "ambassador," which is our no-longer secret code for taking people under our wings, or basically forcing them to be our friends and love us forever. while she wasn't entirely satisfied with her role, i think she did a damn fine job, as all of the contact information given to us thus far has been legit...or so we think.
day one: light camel riding. there was lunch cooked under the shade of what i consider to be "a circle of life tree" and pleasantries exchanged as we all became friends. ellen, being a natural born leader was given the largest camel (mr. lalu) to ride. whilst susanna tried to help her get on, something went slightly wrong because in what could've been a live-action opening to the flintstones, ellen fell off. the camel was sitting as she kind of slid head first down it's neck before bobbing a bit and landing face first in the sand. it all happened in very slow motion, it was kind of surreal. but she got up, dusted off her khakis and tried to tame the beast somewhat more successfully. we stopped at what i think were two "villages," but we all felt awkward staring at the inhabitants and basically kicking sand or looking at more cows. after setting up camp at the base of some serious dunes, we all gathered around a campfire to engage in a sing-off against our leaders. they obliterated us as everything sung in hindi automatically wins because we can't really understand it, which only heightens its magical potential. our giant "mineral water" bottle and several pans served as instruments and we forced our comrades to wail madonna far into the night. we were additionally blessed with a full moon. in keeping up with my obsession with "bathroom culture," the desert became my powder room! aided by the moonlight, i was free to relieve myself anywhere without concerning myself with getting lost, stepping on a camel, or straying into a wild dog brawl (see night 2).
day two: sadly, three members of our party departed, as they had only signed up for the one day one night option that we didnt know existed. we said our goodbyes and promised to meet again as we watched them head back with our youngest camel driver, whom i affectionately call little korea. he had met his current korean girlfriend on a previous camel trek and refused to believe that dawn and yoko couldn't speak korean. thus, a lot of conversations ended with yoko screaming, "im japanese!" after the first lalu incident, the camel drivers decided that i (the shortest member of any crew that doesnt contain people under the age of 10) should ride the lalu. this resulted in me having to be heaved atop the horny beast every time we stopped. i forgot to mention that most of the camels were in heat. thus, every time they sensed a female about 10-15 km away, they started foaming at the mouth. this was also accompanied by the sound of blowing bubbles in chocolate milk in stereo as blew air into their tongues that also drooped out the side of their mouths. it was a mess. there was camel hormone foam all over my shoes and jacket, thanks to my transfer to the lalu, the horniest of them all.
day two was a bit of a disaster once the drivers decided the camels should run. after about 30 minutes, we all complained of severe thigh aches and took turn walking our camels. we stopped in another two villages, the second reminding me a bit of the amish horror films that are shown on tv late at night. we were greeted by a couple of girls. one had drawn random symbols on her face with marker and was fond of flipping up her eyelids and growling at us. her smaller companion donned a filthy trucker hat, which she lifted to reveal a head full of fleas? lice? i cant be too sure. she kept trying to remove the insects from her hair and toss them into ours. i decided to slip away from the crowd, my hygienic safety at risk. unsuccessfully, i was approached by a little pint sized boy who aggressively tried to trade his ball (which appeared to be a paintball that never exploded) for my eyeglasses. in an effort to keep him at bay, i decided to engage in a game of catch with him. by this time, flippy eyelids had sauntered over, obviously upset about the lack of attention being paid to her. grabbing the ball, she pegged me hardcore in the leg, leaving me with a sweet black and blue. abandoning the operation all together, i tried to see how yoko was doing. she was trying to get a shot of a small puppy, but every time she was about to click the shutter, a demon child would pop a body part into the frame. flippy spit at her and susanna. defeated, we trekked back towards the drivers, begging them to take us away from this place.
the winds were strong as we settled down to camp. there was the usually wonderful meal of chapatti, chai and some vegetable mush that was utterly delectable. upon discovering the i had my italk in my bag, we managed to record some of the camel drivers songs on yoko's ipod. their eyes glistened as they got to listen to the playback of their voices, and kamal started tearing a bit. we promised to make them a cd and send them some of our old discmans as soon as we returned to our countries of origin. settling down under a full moon once again, we were awoken in the middle of the night by sounds of barking and pissing. it seems (my head was hidden far under the blankets) that a pack of wild dogs were fighting over the remains of our dinner right next to our heads. it was insane. i was a little freaked, as i didnt have my neosporin in case of a large fight. 15 minutes into the massacre, one of the camel drivers awoke to shoo them away, and the rest of the night was quite pleasant.
day three: heading back to the jeeps. i was a little sad to leave mr. khan and kamal in the desert, as they had become my pals. they taught me how to clean plates in the desert (using sand!), pack up a camel, make them run and sit, it was pretty crazy. but they had a new group to meet and i had some serious showering to attend to. upon our return, we were greeted by our little family at the hotel jeet...it was sweet. and it rhymes...and i have to go write an email to my man, so that's all for now.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Obama-Marley Nation
A quick observation from Ellen.
Every time we tell people we are from the USA. We get one of two responses.
1. an enthusiastic "OBAMA"
2. "No women, No Cry: No Chapati, No Chai" sung to us.
Footnote : Yes we know that Bob Marley is not from the USA, but from Jamaica, people in India don't I guess.
Every time we tell people we are from the USA. We get one of two responses.
1. an enthusiastic "OBAMA"
2. "No women, No Cry: No Chapati, No Chai" sung to us.
Footnote : Yes we know that Bob Marley is not from the USA, but from Jamaica, people in India don't I guess.
Friday, February 13, 2009
"I will survive, hey hey"
Yes, Gillian, Susanna, and I all survived the 3 day camel trek through the Thar Desert. (You should really be singing the song in your head by now.) And when I say survived, I mean we survived: 3 days riding a camel (meaning our butts and thighs hurt like no other), demon village childern, rain that only comes in the Thar Desert every 7 years, a pack a wild dogs trying to get our leftover food at night which was right next to our heads, Dehli Bellie, and me falling off the camel, "Mr. LaLu," on the first day. (do not worry I am totally fine.)
All I need to say is yes we have surived and have still not had a hot shower.
We are in Jaipur tonight and are going to expore the wilds of Dehli on Monday, but not on camels.
All I need to say is yes we have surived and have still not had a hot shower.
We are in Jaipur tonight and are going to expore the wilds of Dehli on Monday, but not on camels.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
even cows throw up gang signs
watching mustached men equipped with swords
riding atop bedazzled camels
i am a changed woman...
the hotel we are currently staying at lets out directly onto the street, WHERE THE MR. DESERT COMPETITION PARADE BEGAN. rubbing the black crust out of my eyes, i grabbed my italk (thanks for the suggestion eric) and my camera to join the locals and other hotel dwellers to watch the procession that marked the beginning of the mr. and mrs. desert festival. while i couldn't react quick enough to really catch the subtle moments of grandeur...the street was caked with turbans, mirrors, tourists, flowers...and camel poo.
ellen, susanna and i stopped briefly to grab a coffee and some mean pastries en route to the stadium to watch the full festivities which included turban tying competitions, various dance routines that made me shake what my momma gave me, the mrs. desert competition...and of course, the mr. i have never seen such serious staches since purusing the streets of willy-b competition. the host had the courtesy to inform us what each style of stache actually revealed about its grower...i was entranced. we didn't want to leave my little spot on the lawn all day...and gosh darn we didn't. tug of war tomorrow...foreigners vs. indians.
the day after tomorrow we are off on a three day camel trek to camp in sand dunes, look at some more forts, and visit some villages and farms further out of town...i'm so pumped, i might wear flourescents. tell bijun i've been rocking my ef shirt every other day, so i'm expecting a bonus upon my return. much love. xoxoxoxo
riding atop bedazzled camels
i am a changed woman...
the hotel we are currently staying at lets out directly onto the street, WHERE THE MR. DESERT COMPETITION PARADE BEGAN. rubbing the black crust out of my eyes, i grabbed my italk (thanks for the suggestion eric) and my camera to join the locals and other hotel dwellers to watch the procession that marked the beginning of the mr. and mrs. desert festival. while i couldn't react quick enough to really catch the subtle moments of grandeur...the street was caked with turbans, mirrors, tourists, flowers...and camel poo.
ellen, susanna and i stopped briefly to grab a coffee and some mean pastries en route to the stadium to watch the full festivities which included turban tying competitions, various dance routines that made me shake what my momma gave me, the mrs. desert competition...and of course, the mr. i have never seen such serious staches since purusing the streets of willy-b competition. the host had the courtesy to inform us what each style of stache actually revealed about its grower...i was entranced. we didn't want to leave my little spot on the lawn all day...and gosh darn we didn't. tug of war tomorrow...foreigners vs. indians.
the day after tomorrow we are off on a three day camel trek to camp in sand dunes, look at some more forts, and visit some villages and farms further out of town...i'm so pumped, i might wear flourescents. tell bijun i've been rocking my ef shirt every other day, so i'm expecting a bonus upon my return. much love. xoxoxoxo
Thursday, February 5, 2009
ahMENdabad
Gillian and I made it to ahmedabad which has little to boast for itself except that it is one of the world's top 10 most polluted cities also is home of the Ghandi Ashram. We ended up calling it, ahMENdabad: the city of men, because there honestly seemed to be men and only men everywhere in the city. It was the craziest place we have been to so far in India, every street was jammed packed with vendors, motorbikes, people, and cows. But we made it though and it was good prep for us to get ready for Delhi and Kolkuta.
The one really amazing spot in ahmedabad though was the Ghandi Ashram, also known as the Sabarmati Ashram.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sabarmati_Ashram
The Ghandi Ashram was a very peaceful and gentle place to be in the mists of the craziness of the city. It was also great to renew my knowledge of Ghandi and really understand how one man changed a nation and influenced the world. I am really glad we got there. I also got the play Cricket with the kids who went to school there.
We found a wonderful women's craft Co-Op called SEWA in Ahmedabad were we were able to bye some gifts and actually feel good about it!
http://www.sewa.org/
We made it to Jodpur via a night bus, Again? (We keep taking them because of the schedules, but really instead of sleeper buses they should be called stay awake all night and try to sleep buses). We found Susanna!!!! and we all are going to Jasilmer for the Mr and Mrs Desert contest tomorrow!
In Jodpur we got to see the fort and I got the play with clay! Women in the market here will make little things out of clay or decorate pots while sitting by their stands all day. I sat with women who worked in clay and she gave me some to play with which was a really different texture then what I use in NC. She was making little Ganesh figures, I tried to copy one up with little success. She actually ended up laughing at mine and pointing to her's saying "very good" and then pointing to mine and saying "very bad," so alast guess I could not make it as a potter in India.
We promise pictures to come, we just need to get them on to a computer. Which is harder then you think.
The one really amazing spot in ahmedabad though was the Ghandi Ashram, also known as the Sabarmati Ashram.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sabarmati_Ashram
The Ghandi Ashram was a very peaceful and gentle place to be in the mists of the craziness of the city. It was also great to renew my knowledge of Ghandi and really understand how one man changed a nation and influenced the world. I am really glad we got there. I also got the play Cricket with the kids who went to school there.
We found a wonderful women's craft Co-Op called SEWA in Ahmedabad were we were able to bye some gifts and actually feel good about it!
http://www.sewa.org/
We made it to Jodpur via a night bus, Again? (We keep taking them because of the schedules, but really instead of sleeper buses they should be called stay awake all night and try to sleep buses). We found Susanna!!!! and we all are going to Jasilmer for the Mr and Mrs Desert contest tomorrow!
In Jodpur we got to see the fort and I got the play with clay! Women in the market here will make little things out of clay or decorate pots while sitting by their stands all day. I sat with women who worked in clay and she gave me some to play with which was a really different texture then what I use in NC. She was making little Ganesh figures, I tried to copy one up with little success. She actually ended up laughing at mine and pointing to her's saying "very good" and then pointing to mine and saying "very bad," so alast guess I could not make it as a potter in India.
We promise pictures to come, we just need to get them on to a computer. Which is harder then you think.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
hampi go go!
thanks to the detailed and frank descriptions of dysentery in the lonely planet guide, as well as the indian transportation system, i have reverted back to my anal phase. we're talking freud here...not about my past employment (it's a joke mom, i'll explain over lasagna). as a pee machine and coffee addict, a good 60% of my energy involves finding a bathroom, or thinking about spawning a business over where i've found the best places to relieve myself. however, when faced with the options of taking a 15 hour tour bus without facilities, or walking...i've chosen the latter, only to be beaten by ellen in a thumb war and coaxed into taking the bus. i have done this twice. has my bladder become stronger...no. but thanks to a year in china, im a pretty good squatter and i've always been keen on marking my territory on national monuments (watch out taj mahal)...as well as the gardens of shiji ming yuan (my apt. complex).
piling into what was supposed to be a 10 hour bus from goa to hampi, we were met with a cattle car equipped with reasonable sleepers, but inhumane chairs. luckily we opted for the "sleepers". it is really impossible to use them for their desired purpose when you stop every 20 minutes to cram more people into the flood-lit cage, jump over packs and children, or try to do your stuff in the dark next to a cow and what could potentially be a rabid dog because they look like they might cover your ass from the all-too-eager locals who wanna sneak a peek. it was insane. every time i was about to go or mid-stream, the bus driver or a random would appear screaming "hampi go go," and i'd have to half zip and run. this did not make me happy...but it ended.
upon reaching our desired destination, we were hassled by a billion people shoving business cards of all kinds into our faces. i figured breathing into their faces would stop the onslaught...but i think they liked it. tom's of maine sweeping the globe!
hampi is/was amazing. according to the locals and all of their exquisitely hand-painted signs which make me soooo happy, this city has more ruins than any other location in the country. while many opted to explore via rickshaw, we took to cruisers and pedalled our way through the ruins for about 2 days. as there are soo many, the chances of running into another group of raging tourists are slim to none. it gave ellen and i a lot of time time to catch up in the shade of decaying post and lintel constructions, or even atop granite boulders. dare i mention im a GRANITEVILLE GAL??? oh i did, born and raised on ada drive, which was featured on the news 2 summers ago and my neighbor was housing chemicals to build bombs. represent!
we met a gal and her boyfriends from australia who were darling and gave us a lot of tips about vietnam and cambodia (we're considering). they warned us of the insane amount of con artists and we both parted ways, only to get ripped off again by a man selling ice candy that tasted like ass. but it was cold ass, and we were hot.
the second day we ventured several miles around the ruins and got a little lost when we ended up on a plateau of rock that seemed to stretch on forever. everyone kept assuring us that there was a path five minutes away. for anyone that has ridden a cruiser, they are like an obese twelve year old who wants to be carried all of time. it's annoying and just not right. cruisers are for people who want to go on a flat road one way, and then the other way at a comfortable speed as they wave to all of their neighbors and avoid hitting any cats. they are not meant to be dragged up rocky stairwells next to cows, goats, and the child paparazzi that keep trying to get you to pose for a picture as you can feel the sweat dripping down your lobster face. every five minutes someone assured us it would be over in 5 minutes. and hour later, we somehow linked up with the main road and hopped back on our 12 yr. olds and road off to the shared showers, which faced the street so you got to hear hagglers and random pipe music and you lathered...ahhh!!! i wish we could've stayed there longer...but onto that place i can't pronounce...
piling into what was supposed to be a 10 hour bus from goa to hampi, we were met with a cattle car equipped with reasonable sleepers, but inhumane chairs. luckily we opted for the "sleepers". it is really impossible to use them for their desired purpose when you stop every 20 minutes to cram more people into the flood-lit cage, jump over packs and children, or try to do your stuff in the dark next to a cow and what could potentially be a rabid dog because they look like they might cover your ass from the all-too-eager locals who wanna sneak a peek. it was insane. every time i was about to go or mid-stream, the bus driver or a random would appear screaming "hampi go go," and i'd have to half zip and run. this did not make me happy...but it ended.
upon reaching our desired destination, we were hassled by a billion people shoving business cards of all kinds into our faces. i figured breathing into their faces would stop the onslaught...but i think they liked it. tom's of maine sweeping the globe!
hampi is/was amazing. according to the locals and all of their exquisitely hand-painted signs which make me soooo happy, this city has more ruins than any other location in the country. while many opted to explore via rickshaw, we took to cruisers and pedalled our way through the ruins for about 2 days. as there are soo many, the chances of running into another group of raging tourists are slim to none. it gave ellen and i a lot of time time to catch up in the shade of decaying post and lintel constructions, or even atop granite boulders. dare i mention im a GRANITEVILLE GAL??? oh i did, born and raised on ada drive, which was featured on the news 2 summers ago and my neighbor was housing chemicals to build bombs. represent!
we met a gal and her boyfriends from australia who were darling and gave us a lot of tips about vietnam and cambodia (we're considering). they warned us of the insane amount of con artists and we both parted ways, only to get ripped off again by a man selling ice candy that tasted like ass. but it was cold ass, and we were hot.
the second day we ventured several miles around the ruins and got a little lost when we ended up on a plateau of rock that seemed to stretch on forever. everyone kept assuring us that there was a path five minutes away. for anyone that has ridden a cruiser, they are like an obese twelve year old who wants to be carried all of time. it's annoying and just not right. cruisers are for people who want to go on a flat road one way, and then the other way at a comfortable speed as they wave to all of their neighbors and avoid hitting any cats. they are not meant to be dragged up rocky stairwells next to cows, goats, and the child paparazzi that keep trying to get you to pose for a picture as you can feel the sweat dripping down your lobster face. every five minutes someone assured us it would be over in 5 minutes. and hour later, we somehow linked up with the main road and hopped back on our 12 yr. olds and road off to the shared showers, which faced the street so you got to hear hagglers and random pipe music and you lathered...ahhh!!! i wish we could've stayed there longer...but onto that place i can't pronounce...
It takes 30 hours to get to hell and back
We just completed what will hopefully be the longest continuous leg of our travels at least in India. It started with what was called a luxury sleeper bus from Hospet to Mumbai. Which was supposed to be a total of 15 hours. (I have discovered the time is a relavant factor in India, it is not so much an exact time you are given but more of am approximation.)
When we first got on we were quite impressed with the our accommodations on wheels. We had a clean queen size bed and lots of head room (this was a vast improvement from our bus from Goa). Only down fall was no restroom. Our sleepy eyes from biking all around Hampi started to get heavy and finally rest about 30 mins into the bus ride about 6:30 pm. When, like a gong, there was extremely loud Bollywood music started to play from the speaker placed directly above out heads about 3 feet away. Both Gillian and the hot Slovenians boys next to us unsuccessfully tried to stuff various article of clothing into the speakers to muffle the noise. Luckily after about 2 hours of being teased by the music being turned off and on, it was turned off for good by the bus diver who a guess just got board.
So 17 hours later with little sleep and the occasional experience of having to pee on the side of the road (or as the bus driver called it the "Indian Bathroom") we were dropped off somewhere in the middle of Mumbai.
We were told we would be taken to Mumbai Central but what do you know, we were not. With the of friendly Indian teenagers an other stranded Japanese backpacker we made it on to a city bus and a hour later we were at the train station with time to spare.
Which leads us to our 8 hours train ride to Ahmendabad in Non-AC class seats. It was painfully since we had not slept in 24 hours. I guess it took all of us on the train about 6 hours to warm up to each other because first 6 hours were spent in silence and the last 2 hours were spent with everyone on in the car talking to us and wanting to now everything about us it was actually really fun to talk to all of then.
The best part was that I got an 20 year old man and a 70 year old women to talk to me for the better part of an hour about Cricket, which I still don't really get.
I am still amazing at the friendliness and openness of the Indian people.
So, in the end Gillian and I made it just fine and treated ourselves to a hotel with hot water last night. It is amazing what sleep and a hot shower can do.
When we first got on we were quite impressed with the our accommodations on wheels. We had a clean queen size bed and lots of head room (this was a vast improvement from our bus from Goa). Only down fall was no restroom. Our sleepy eyes from biking all around Hampi started to get heavy and finally rest about 30 mins into the bus ride about 6:30 pm. When, like a gong, there was extremely loud Bollywood music started to play from the speaker placed directly above out heads about 3 feet away. Both Gillian and the hot Slovenians boys next to us unsuccessfully tried to stuff various article of clothing into the speakers to muffle the noise. Luckily after about 2 hours of being teased by the music being turned off and on, it was turned off for good by the bus diver who a guess just got board.
So 17 hours later with little sleep and the occasional experience of having to pee on the side of the road (or as the bus driver called it the "Indian Bathroom") we were dropped off somewhere in the middle of Mumbai.
We were told we would be taken to Mumbai Central but what do you know, we were not. With the of friendly Indian teenagers an other stranded Japanese backpacker we made it on to a city bus and a hour later we were at the train station with time to spare.
Which leads us to our 8 hours train ride to Ahmendabad in Non-AC class seats. It was painfully since we had not slept in 24 hours. I guess it took all of us on the train about 6 hours to warm up to each other because first 6 hours were spent in silence and the last 2 hours were spent with everyone on in the car talking to us and wanting to now everything about us it was actually really fun to talk to all of then.
The best part was that I got an 20 year old man and a 70 year old women to talk to me for the better part of an hour about Cricket, which I still don't really get.
I am still amazing at the friendliness and openness of the Indian people.
So, in the end Gillian and I made it just fine and treated ourselves to a hotel with hot water last night. It is amazing what sleep and a hot shower can do.
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