The Faces of India

Henna Hands

Amber Fort - The Pink City

Me n' the Irish

Taj Mahal

Magnificent Taj Mahal

Ranthanbore Tigress

Honoured Wedding Crashers

The Grimacing Groom

The Reluctant Bride

Road Beggars

The End of the Road Trip

3000 kilometers - that's how far we've travelled in India in the past 16 days and we're knackered! From Udaipur we headed Jaipur - The Pink City where we saw the luxurious Maharaja Palace and the monolithic Amber Fort and then on to Ranthanbore National Park for a little tiger hunting safari (cameras only, no worries). The town is tiny and the amenities are few but we get a ratty little room for 450 rupee - aprox. $15.00 and take a canter (jeep-like vehicle that holds 26 people) and head into the park. It's so not the India that we have come to know. Lush, green with a towering fort overhead, there are monkeys and spotted deer and what look like mule deer and parakeets and parrots and vultures and humming birds and herons and mongoose and all manner of wildlife running and scampering and flying around us. The peacocks are magnificent and the crocodiles are lazing about the banks with gobs hanging open waiting for prey, but no tigers today so we head back to the hotel grubby, dusty but relaxed.

Later in the evening there's fireworks and music blaring from next door as there is a wedding in progress. We're already in the sack but can't sleep for noise, and, as one of my goals on this trip is to see an Indian wedding, we decide to crash it. Up we get and put on some respectable duds and head next door. When we get to the gate of the lavish outdoor ceremony, several boys (pissed to the gills), drag us in and immediately push us onto the dance floor where we are surrounded by probably 7o or more men urging us to dance, pushing, shoving and gyrating around us. I'm really not comfortable with this scene so Ivan boogies with the boys and I go sit with the lovely sari clad ladies. We are treated as honoured guests here rather than crashers and they bring us sweets and coffee and offer us dinner. The bride and groom look woeful and miserable perched on thrones under hot glaring camera lights, this ceremonial atmosphere is not for them but the guests. The bride is shaking like a leaf and the groom looks as though his best friend died. The marriages here are arranged through the parents and perhaps he has a love he had to sever with and perhaps she just wishes she had more time. Who's to say, but a more dismal couple I have yet to see at a such a celebration. Later, the father of the groom asks us to come up and take pictures with the "happy couple" and there we are under the lights with video cameras rolling looking like proud aunty and uncle. It was a great experience. Since, on the road and here in Agra, we have seen wedding after wedding and were invited to another last night, but tired as we were, decided to opt for sleep instead.

The next morning 6 a.m. ugh - we head out again in the canter in the company of an amiable group of Irish folks to see the tigers. 2 hours go by and all we see are deer - had this been a deer spotting trip we surely had our money's worth! Then another jeep comes by who had just seen tigers so our driver throws it in high gear and we go throttling through the bush, over rocks and bumps with branches slapping our faces as we grip the rails for dear life. And there she is! A magnificent female tiger slowly making her way through the bush, posing for photos and then she is gone. It was a thrill and rare; there are only 26 tigers in this 1300 square kilometer park and we got lucky. Yay.

We spend the night and head for Bharatpur as it puts us closer to Agra. The roads are horrible and bumpy and every 100 meters or so there's a vehicle of any given description heading straight for us and lurching out of the way in only the nick of time. I am tired of this as it's nerve wracking and stressful and can't wait for it to be over. Heading into Bharatpur our driver points out the squalid shacks along the road where the prostitutes are plying their trade and waiting for drivers who, having made it there alive, celebrate with beer and ladies of the night. We meet up again with the Irish and sit in the garden drinking Kingfisher beers, swapping stories and singing songs. There is another wedding across the road and we all decide to crash this time, so myself and the Irish girls, who bought saris along the way, get dressed up like Indian aunties replete with makeup and jewellry, but by the time we are dressed, the wedding is over so we sit in our saris and get pickled in the garden. They were great folk and they have invited us to Ireland and we've said yes, so another stop is added to the itinerary.

Yesterday we got into Agra early, checked into a hotel and said farewell to our driver, none too soon. Then we headed out in the afternoon to see the Taj Mahal. What can be said about this that hasn't been said already by great writers? I won't even try, suffice to say, it's all it's cracked up to be. We met many Indian people who wanted their pix taken with us (we are that photogenic, you know) and sat in the afternoon sun gazing at this marble marvel.

Tonight we take a 12 hour train to Varanasi to see the Ganges and the ghats where cremations take place. Varanasi is the most holy of holy cities in India and if you are cremated here, you are released from reincarnation for eternity so it's very good to die and be cremated here. We hear it's frenetic and crazy there and are looking forward to it, but we are India thrashed now and in another week will head to Turkey for the beaches and cheap food. While we like Indian food, after nearly a month of it, we are ready for some serious meat. Eating beef here is illegal and there is no pork to be had, only chicken and mutton and sometimes not even chicken as bird flu has many places worried, and mutton is not my thing. So, we are craving hamburgers and bacon, and being the carnivores that we are, McDonalds is going to look like the gates of heaven when we head out of this country. We are vegetarian hostages here and I'd kill for a nice glass of wine. Where's the beef???

Loungin' in the Maharaja's Lounge

Brutus and Bhang

Leaving Udaipur yesterday morning we head onto a trucking route and immediately encounter semis strung along the highway as though beads on a necklace, one after another, with barely an inch between them. They careen along recklessly as if they are Tonka toys spilled from the box. Passing, jostling, racing willy-nilly and our little car is dodging and weaving between them. At one point I'm almost heaving from sheer fear and motion sickness. Up, over the hill and into the bend, surrounded by rock walls, we come against a wall of semis - 2 big trucks side by each fill up our windshield as we skid to a halt. Satish pulls our car up tight to the grill of the fully loaded tanker now stopped in our lane and leaps from the car. Ivan and I watch in horror and fascination as he races to the driver's window and lunges up to grab his arm. The driver is frightened and sorry but Satish tries insistently to drag him from the truck. When this does not work, he twists and turns his arm until he begs for mercy. Jesus, this is awful - we are mortified. I don't think he would have stopped had we not been there to witness. It's an ugly scene and we are really starting to dislike this driver who puts us at such risk by losing his temper. Yes, the truck driver was foolish, yes, he put us in danger, but the violence is excessive and brutal.

This incident miles behind us, our moods lift as we start the climb into barren dusty hills - the precursor to Pushkar. There are monkeys everywhere lazing and lounging at the roadside, sprawled as prostitutes, waiting for bananas from passing travellers. India may be many things; violent, dirty, destitute, splendorous, colourful and hard to take but it is never, ever boring.

Ivan, with his snotty cold wants you all to know that he is suffering with a miserable cold. I feel very bad for him as I know how icky and crappy it is but secretly (well, not anymore), I'm REALLY glad it's not me this time. Oh, come on, he'll get over it - I did.

Pushkar is a lovely sleepy little town with tightly woven streets chockablock with silks and saris, food and sundries, 50 rupee buffets, and cool, laid back people. this, mind you, may have a good deal to do with the Bhang lassis (shakes), and teas and juices imbibed at leisure along the lanes. Bhang is marijuana leaves and seeds brewed or blended into a soothing concoction for road weary travellers and locals alike. We don't succumb but sometimes it's tempting to just get numb!

Today we got our hands henna'd, we are so cool.

The streets are lovely, but not perfect, as scooters and motorbikes drive at breakneck speeds through the narrow corridors using their ear-splittng horns to part the crowds. This is not only over-the-top annoying, it's also highly dangerous to anyone not paying strict attention, uh...that would be us..

The countryside here is lush and green, dotted with flower beds for commercial sales, and big leafy trees all framed by jagged, jutting hillsides. How very refreshing after the miles and miles of parched, lonely deserts we have travelled.

We'll hang here for a couple of days and then keep on moving upcountry to Agra. Thank God we only have 7 more days left with our brutish driver, and then we are back on our own. Stay tuned.

An early Happy Easter to All and Hey! - This one for the girls...and maybe the guys too (Christmas is coming ya know). I am buying many amazing pieces of jewellry, silks and treasures and will have a BIG, ONE-OF-A-KIND SALE when I get home, so save your shekels and rupees for my Christmas sale. Hazaaah.

Too Close for Comfort

Ship of the Desert

It's in the Eyes

Camel anyone?

Whatcha doin in there?

Ivan with a Tan

where the Hell is Romeo??

Cows n' Camels..

..and dogs and goats and sheep and kids and beggars and more cows. The streets are chaos and the smells are less than tantalizing. You can't swing a cat (which are suspiciously absent) without hitting a cow in this country. Looking up is a hazard as well because you can't be sure you won't be stepping in some kind of poo - moo poo, dog poo, people poo - you name it! We've nearly been butted by the buggers on more than one occasion and steer clear of the steers whenever possible. I feel so grubby here, what I wouldn't do for a pedi, a mani, a cut and a colour about now but in light of the fact that I will never pass this way again - it's all good.

So, we took the train to Delhi in 2 A/C which is second class air conditioning - there are more classes of trains than castes of people here which is saying a lot! Our train was not cheap but we got a 4 berth compartment and all the food paid for. I was happy that we did when I watched the other trains passing by with people hanging out the windows and doors packed wall to wall. We shared with a couple of guys from Afghanistan (Taliban I surmise-Ivan thinks better)(hey, can you say Taliban on the net without getting investigated)? who were as surprised about the sleeping arrangements as I was. I actually took the sheet from my bed and hung it from the top bunk so they would not feel too uncomfortable, well, I don't know about them but it eased my mind some. We reach Delhi after 17 hours and emerge into a hot, dusty fray of hustle, hustle, hustle. NO, I don't need a ride, no, I'll carry my own bag, no, I don't want to come to your shop - arrghhh..but this is India. Our hotel is a short walk from the train and the room is fairly reasonable but the touristy area where we are staying is chock full of dread locked hippies lost in their own version of spirituality, snake charmers (who charm more rupees than snakes), ornery cows, vendors etc. so we decide that we want to head to Rajisthan - The land of kings - and visit the most venerated places in northern India. We hire a car and driver from our hotel. At first we thought we'd take a train but the territory is big and this way we will see more. Overall, it seems more economical timewise - we would be toast at the end of this trip had we not opted for this.

Our first stop is Bikaner, then to Jaisalmer, Jodhpur, Ranakpur and on to Udaipur where we are now. Along the way we have seen mind blowing forts - not the F-troop kind - the majestic towering Maharaja dreams come to fruition kind and amazing temples, bas reliefs and carvings taking thousands of man-hours to complete and colourful local life. One temple at Bikaner bears special mention if only for it's notoriety and our squeemishness at visiting. The temple of rats...yes, truly, there are actually people in this world who worship these vile, disease ridden vermin. Our driver, Satish says that 90 percent of tourists don't visit here but hey, it's us, we do these things! When we get to the temple we join the long queue to get in and every step takes us trepidatiously to the door. I'm thinking I'll scream if one runs across my feet (which is considered lucky - go figure) and Ivan's not much more enthused at this than I am. When we finally get to the temple, yup, sure enough, there they ARE - scuttling, eating, sipping milk from bowls set out for them, wriggling into holes, out of holes, running across the floor while the worshippers squeel with glee. We take one quick pass through looking for the VERY lucky white rat and hightail it back to our shoes. Yes folks, we went through there bare foot. That's ok, I saw one lady kissing the floor..eeeuuuwww. And enough about that.

Our driver Satish, is a very savvy guy, he's driven a lot of tourists over the years and while he is pleasant and helpful, he is also manipulative and sly at times. When we were in China a lady named Karla told us to be careful of the drivers here because they all lie and they are all out to make commissions. Yup. Sometimes it's very frustrating knowing that he's not telling us the truth or the whole story or even the real story but it beats the buses loaded with folks on top burning their bums off and he's ok overall. He is also a very good driver and that's the main thing - the cows and sheep here are semi- suicidal, and being good Hindus, are seeking their next life at any given moment. I just wish they weren't doing it on the highway! The other morning a dump truck was careening in a zig-zag pattern down the middle of the road. Judging by the crazed look in his eyes, he was either a) drunk b) drugged or c) sun stroked, in any case, he scared the bejeezus out of me and I don't think Satish was too impressed either.

We are in Udaipur now, spending an extra day here than planned because once again we are sick. Notice I said we. It's not just me this time, Ivan is sick too. Ivan has a bad cold and I have the Delhi belly. Yesterday we just lay in bed watching every bad movie that came on, moaning and groaning and not being much help to one another as it's every man for himself when you're both down. Today is better and tomorrow we push on to Pushkar where you can't eat eggs, meat or anything basically but veg. Oh joy.

India First Days

On arrival in Mumbai we hit the warm blast of tepid air and head to the customs que. The little guy looking at my passport is singing - Who let the dogs out...who, who, who etc. and I respond, "not me". Strangest customs entry I've encountered but then, it's all a bit strange here. Our hotel is a big old (very old) building and our room is on the inside and windowless, a bit like an enclosed tomb when you turn out the lights. Everything here is old and dirty and crumbling but functional.

The first morning I leave Ivan to do email and go for a walk and in less than 5 minutes I encounter a lady with a wee baby and a monkey on a leash who wants me to buy her some milk along with countless other beggars wanting either milk, rice, food, money or the shirt off your back. She tells me she wants to go home to Madras tomorrow and needs milk for the baby (I am also wondering how she is feeding that big monkey)! So, I tell her we will buy her some milk and when Ivan is done emailing, she takes us on a long meandering walk to a shop where we find out the powdered milk she wants is exorbitantly priced and tell her no, this is too much and she sulkily walks away. This is a scam we discover, as several other beggars want to take us to this shop to buy milk and rice. I think that the store hires them for a commission on the milk and rice, we buy it, they take it back, they get some money and the store resells the commodity. Ya gotta love the marketing schematic on that one! At any rate, the only money we are giving out is small rupees for the blind and destitute and we gave away our leftover take away to some kids last night. Begging is a full fledged industry here and a backpacker could go broke by generosity very quickly.

We've tripped around Colaba, the area we are staying in; lots of big old buildings and plenty of colourful people and clothing. the saris and outfits the ladies wear are mind bogglingly beautiful, gzillions of little black taxis buzz about in a frenzy all vying for your fare and life is awash with colour and noise and smell ( oh the smells, gasp). We took a ferry boat to a place called Elephanta Island where nasty monkeys harass the visitors as we make our way through caves as old as 25o AD to look at statuary of Shiva and other deities bigger than life are carved into the cave walls.

The proprieter of this internet cafe just dropped a Buddha carving on the floor of the shop and I wonder if his karma is in peril?!!

The food - omyBuddha...the food is so good! Dal and masala and tikka and naan bread, all fresh and hot and steamy, this is my favourite food yet. I was surprised at how bad the food in China was and am equally surprised at how good it is here and cheap too. Mumbai is apparently the most expensive place to stay in India, our room is about $30.00CAD a night - very high for a broom closet but as we move on it gets cheaper according to our book. Tonight we take a 17 hour train to Delhi and from there will do a circle trip around the north of India.

We shipped Ivan's guitars to a friend of ours in Germany so we don't have too many bags to watch and there's not much chance of gigging or busking here (are you kidding, busking to beggars - ha) so we can move about more efficiently. You have to watch all your stuff here like it's got legs. We will meet up with them later although Ivan may have withdrawal, we shall see. My ankle is still icky and sore and I saw a doctor here who told me they should not have scraped it in Thailand, and you know, I actually knew that somehow, but it is slowly healing and another week I should be back to better if not good. Everything here is a picture and the light is amazing so we will post some soon. On to Delhi.

Hey ya'll, if you're reading this, send an email or two. We're getting to the point where we are emailing each other just to see something in the inbox! Cheers and Namaste.