Day 23
So in other news my index which tracks the S&P hit record highs!!!
But back in India we also hit record highs climbing to new heights today in Manali during a 6 hour trek through rocky terrain on the banks of a rushing river.
In India it takes mega long to get food at a restaurant, like last night we waited one and a half hours for our food. Oh well. And theres nobody to complain to because its just a group of prepubescent boys running the joint.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Manali
Day 22
There must be same mistake on the number of days because I arrived in India on May 8 and today is May 30, which means that today is day 22. So this is Day 22, a little backwards time travel.
To make a long story short, we left Tattapani yesterday again at five in the morning. It was cold, but the weather quickly rose as we descended into a valley full of small farm villages with simple minded folks wearing bandanas. We took a wrong turn early and rode 30 kilometers up a hilly road full of annoying potholes, only to have to come back down the same potmarked road half an hour later.
The rest of the ride was enjoyable, gorgeous weather and idyllic scenery. We stopped a few times for chai and fried eggs and reached Manali before evening. We took a room at the Krishna Guesthouse for 200 rups, and theres even a hot shower! Manali is divided into an Old and a New city, and we're in the old which is much higher up and less crowded than the Old. There are tons and tons of Israelis here, Israeli food, signs in Hebrew, crocks, dreadlocks and hashish, all marks of Israel.
Last night we ate Tibetan food which is basically Chinese food but not quite as good and a hell of lot more spicy. It was cold at night and I snuck two woolen blankets from the uninhabited adjoining room to supplement our own.
In the morning we drank Chai, Michal got her legs waxed, and I finished Midnights Children, which was really damned good. I then traded it a the local cafe for Arudhati Roy's A God of Small Things, which I read for the past couple hours in a small cozy nook I found for myself in the mountains away from all the tourists and vendors. I read Indian literature against the backdrop of the Himalayas: very cool.
A man approached me who owns a guesthouse nearby and we talked for a while. His name is Chaan and he runs Chaan's Guesthouse. He charges Indians more though I couldnt get him to explain why.
There is the sound of someone trying to learn Stairway To Heaven on guitar coming from somewhere above me now.
Tomorrow we're going to hike for 12 kilometers, but today we're taking it easy. I cruised around a bit on the motorcycle, though the traffic around Manali makes this unenjoyable.
Theres a lot of adventure sports around this town like: rafting, mountaineering, fly fishing, rapling, paragliding, skiing (yes even in summer) and cycling. I think I may take a mountaineering course later on, after Michal leaves, but thats just a random sort of thought that will probably not stick as I have never ever been interested in mountaineering, and I may even have a fear of heights.
There must be same mistake on the number of days because I arrived in India on May 8 and today is May 30, which means that today is day 22. So this is Day 22, a little backwards time travel.
To make a long story short, we left Tattapani yesterday again at five in the morning. It was cold, but the weather quickly rose as we descended into a valley full of small farm villages with simple minded folks wearing bandanas. We took a wrong turn early and rode 30 kilometers up a hilly road full of annoying potholes, only to have to come back down the same potmarked road half an hour later.
The rest of the ride was enjoyable, gorgeous weather and idyllic scenery. We stopped a few times for chai and fried eggs and reached Manali before evening. We took a room at the Krishna Guesthouse for 200 rups, and theres even a hot shower! Manali is divided into an Old and a New city, and we're in the old which is much higher up and less crowded than the Old. There are tons and tons of Israelis here, Israeli food, signs in Hebrew, crocks, dreadlocks and hashish, all marks of Israel.
Last night we ate Tibetan food which is basically Chinese food but not quite as good and a hell of lot more spicy. It was cold at night and I snuck two woolen blankets from the uninhabited adjoining room to supplement our own.
In the morning we drank Chai, Michal got her legs waxed, and I finished Midnights Children, which was really damned good. I then traded it a the local cafe for Arudhati Roy's A God of Small Things, which I read for the past couple hours in a small cozy nook I found for myself in the mountains away from all the tourists and vendors. I read Indian literature against the backdrop of the Himalayas: very cool.
A man approached me who owns a guesthouse nearby and we talked for a while. His name is Chaan and he runs Chaan's Guesthouse. He charges Indians more though I couldnt get him to explain why.
There is the sound of someone trying to learn Stairway To Heaven on guitar coming from somewhere above me now.
Tomorrow we're going to hike for 12 kilometers, but today we're taking it easy. I cruised around a bit on the motorcycle, though the traffic around Manali makes this unenjoyable.
Theres a lot of adventure sports around this town like: rafting, mountaineering, fly fishing, rapling, paragliding, skiing (yes even in summer) and cycling. I think I may take a mountaineering course later on, after Michal leaves, but thats just a random sort of thought that will probably not stick as I have never ever been interested in mountaineering, and I may even have a fear of heights.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Mussorie
We arrived in Manali a few hours ago after a 12 hour ride through the hills, so I'm a little fatigued. But i'm committed to updating my blog, as I havent written for nearly five days and my memory of crucial events may start fading.
Day 18
Woke up and did the usual: eat, brush teeth, shower, watch the same indian servers who waited on us last night at 11pm wait on us again today at 9am. These people never stop working. Indians work round the clock, even the more professional high paid ones. In guesthouses that we stay in the staff normally sleeps on the floor in the kitchen or tables in the restaurant and start working when they wake up, and finish working when they go to sleep. The same people who serve the food also buytheingrediants, cook the food, set the table, clean the place, make the beds, do the laundry, fix electrical problems, unplug toilets, drive taxis, build buildings, do taxes, create promotions, and lets not forget - water the plants.
At 12pm we left because we had a short ride to complete, only about five hours. The ride to Mussorie took us through Dehra Dune, where we stopped to exchange travelers checks. The city is a mess, but one standout feature is the prevalance of police - they are everywhere. These cops where brown c. 1930 era uniforms and carry leather batons, and are remnants of the british empire. They are summarily disregarded and not taken seriously at all, and it is generally known that most policeman have no higher than a fourth grade education. In fact if you've complete more than four grades you are disqualified from the law enforcement occupation.
Besides police, it was very hot. We finally foudn the Bank of Punjab, and I waited outside while Michal exchanged money. A few beggar kids came up to me and pestered me for cash, when teh owner of the store i was standing in front of came out and seriously smacked the kids on the head...hard. I wasnt bothered anymore...simple. Michal came out half an hour later, complaining that the teller would simply not stop asking her irrelevant questions like: what do you do? where do you study? do you like india? are you married? who is that boy you are with? When I went in I was met with the same line of questioning but responded with questions of my own which completely confused the Punjabi teller. Speaking of Punjabs, they are SiK, and these people dont ever cut their hair, but rather tie it round and round their heads and then wrap it all up with scarfs and netting. This is straightup disgusting!
Left Dehra Dune and arrived in Mussorie. Its up a winding hill about 30 minutes from Dehra Dune, and the road their is paved surprisingly well. We've noticed that tourist destinations (with the exception of pilgrimage distinations like rishikish) have great roads, unlike most of the others weve used in india, which are lots of gravel with potholes and large fissures. Mussorie is a tourist trap for rich indians. Its really high up and has lots of hotels and amusement features like pony rides, video game arcades, cotton candy, and other things that are everything but typically indian. We were here for two days. There is a nice road called The Mall which is nice to stroll on with other indian honeymooners, and you can eat corn on the cob and chilly popcorn. We ate Dolsa at a restaurant owned by a Sik man, a place called Madras Cafe, and we spoke to him for a while. Knowing we were Israeli, he said: "yes, we just need to get rid of those people..." and we were confused and he said: "you know i was just watching al jazeera and you know what they did?" and we were still confused and a little worried: finally it became apparent that he dislikes muslims. Apparently some palestinians fired a rocket into Israel, and this infuriated the Sik man. He says in India he loves all the people, but the Muslims are just trouble. This sentiment has been echoed by other indians ive spoken to.
Continued reading Salman Rushdie's Midnights Children, and its great to read foreign books in the country where the story takes place.
We did some other stuff, went to see somel lame waterfall, and generally though mussorie an unimpressive tourist trap for wealthy indians. I drank my first indian beer here.
Day 20
Influenced by the Australian round-the-world couple we left Mussorie at 5am. Riding in the morning is the best idea ever: no traffic, no heat, see the sunrise, get to destination early before dark.
The bike is riding a million times better, did i mention? new air filter, cleaned carburator, new back brakes.
We rode to Shimla, a long long long 12 hour ride. Winding roads through the hills, beautiful majestic vistas as usual, great weather, until we reached Shimla, started raining. Shimla is another indian hip tourist spot, where all the indians go on holiday around this time of year to escape the heat in the own miserable cities. Its apparently an Indian holiday...although almost every day is an indian holiday as, did you know? there are 180 official indian holidays. We tought about staying in Shimla, but wisely made the decision to pass thru and continue one more hour to the next city called Tatapanni. Shima is 1700 meters and the road to Tatapanni goes down down down through some of the worst roads we've seen, to about 600 meters. There is a river and a bridge, and a few stores and houses. On the river is a hotel called Spring View, great review in Lonely Planet.
Day 21
We stayed in Tatapanni for three whole days. One of the loveliest spots we've been, and a pleasant unexpected surprise. The river bed has natural sulphur hot springs which the hotel uses in its hot spring baths. On our first day in T.P. we rode the Shiva's cave, but instead of going to the cave itself, we took a different hike that led as to a river and some small waterfulls. While michal sunbathed i explored the various waterfalls, played with some local kids, and though general things like: WOW this is heavenly!! I could stay here forever...until the clouds came and it started raining again. In this town the first half of the day is blue skies and perfect temps, and the second half is thunderstorms andlighting. I like that.
After the falls soaking in sulphur water. Supposedly this is good for you? I have dry skin so I hope it helps and makes me soft and silky.
Day 22
Rode to the town nearby adn explored. There was a march that we learned later was a protest by the lowest caste to gain more respect by the local government. We drank chai and ate the typical indian sweets: rice cakes, deep fried honey sticks, and sugared bread thing. Not great by itself, but with chai - perfectemente.
Back at the pad we struck up a conversation with a couple indians from Chandigarh, about our age, graphic designer and computer software programmer who work for American companies outsourcing to india. These were rather modern men, but it seems that Indians, and ill stereotype here, are relatively naive. They often dont see outside their little indian box, and know little about the outside world. They are also very conservative. Even the most progressive indians think that marriages should be arranged, that women should be fully covered, that drugs are bad always and always without question no matter what even one puff. Moreover it seems that indians are overwhelmingly religious, with widespread belief in reincarnation. This belief goes a very long way in explaining india's slow progress on social fronts, i.e. its adherence to the caste system. That is, poor slum dwellers were bad bad bad in their last life and now they have to be beggars and eat trash and be good thru it all so that they can be reborn as something better than a beggar.
The whole system sounds absurd and astonishing, and when Im speaking with what seem like serious educated indians it is shocking that they believe in this bullcrap. While faith in a god or gods generally sounds insane to me, the indian beliefs have widespread ramifications for indias poor population. Instead of trying to get education and leave a life of poverty, poor indians dont try to improve their situation. Its a tragedy if you ask me. I know there are probably indians who dont fit this stereotype, but Ive spoken to at least nine different indians who all strike me as believing in the same antiquated ideas despite having university educations.
At night we ate dinner with a 25 year old indian veterinarian we met at the hotel and he had the same notions that i speak of above. He says he wants a girlfriend who is sexy for sex (which he has never had) but that his marriage is another matter that he will have his parents arrange, and that this women must be loyal and educated, and also a good cook. He is part of the warrior caste, and must marry within his caste.
More hot sulphur baths at night with a japanese couple who spoke no english but painted me in watercolors.
Day 23
Woke up this morning again at five am. Im so tired ill relate this fantastic day in my next post. Suffice it to say we're in Manali, and we can see the himalayas from our guesthouse room. Awesome!
Day 18
Woke up and did the usual: eat, brush teeth, shower, watch the same indian servers who waited on us last night at 11pm wait on us again today at 9am. These people never stop working. Indians work round the clock, even the more professional high paid ones. In guesthouses that we stay in the staff normally sleeps on the floor in the kitchen or tables in the restaurant and start working when they wake up, and finish working when they go to sleep. The same people who serve the food also buytheingrediants, cook the food, set the table, clean the place, make the beds, do the laundry, fix electrical problems, unplug toilets, drive taxis, build buildings, do taxes, create promotions, and lets not forget - water the plants.
At 12pm we left because we had a short ride to complete, only about five hours. The ride to Mussorie took us through Dehra Dune, where we stopped to exchange travelers checks. The city is a mess, but one standout feature is the prevalance of police - they are everywhere. These cops where brown c. 1930 era uniforms and carry leather batons, and are remnants of the british empire. They are summarily disregarded and not taken seriously at all, and it is generally known that most policeman have no higher than a fourth grade education. In fact if you've complete more than four grades you are disqualified from the law enforcement occupation.
Besides police, it was very hot. We finally foudn the Bank of Punjab, and I waited outside while Michal exchanged money. A few beggar kids came up to me and pestered me for cash, when teh owner of the store i was standing in front of came out and seriously smacked the kids on the head...hard. I wasnt bothered anymore...simple. Michal came out half an hour later, complaining that the teller would simply not stop asking her irrelevant questions like: what do you do? where do you study? do you like india? are you married? who is that boy you are with? When I went in I was met with the same line of questioning but responded with questions of my own which completely confused the Punjabi teller. Speaking of Punjabs, they are SiK, and these people dont ever cut their hair, but rather tie it round and round their heads and then wrap it all up with scarfs and netting. This is straightup disgusting!
Left Dehra Dune and arrived in Mussorie. Its up a winding hill about 30 minutes from Dehra Dune, and the road their is paved surprisingly well. We've noticed that tourist destinations (with the exception of pilgrimage distinations like rishikish) have great roads, unlike most of the others weve used in india, which are lots of gravel with potholes and large fissures. Mussorie is a tourist trap for rich indians. Its really high up and has lots of hotels and amusement features like pony rides, video game arcades, cotton candy, and other things that are everything but typically indian. We were here for two days. There is a nice road called The Mall which is nice to stroll on with other indian honeymooners, and you can eat corn on the cob and chilly popcorn. We ate Dolsa at a restaurant owned by a Sik man, a place called Madras Cafe, and we spoke to him for a while. Knowing we were Israeli, he said: "yes, we just need to get rid of those people..." and we were confused and he said: "you know i was just watching al jazeera and you know what they did?" and we were still confused and a little worried: finally it became apparent that he dislikes muslims. Apparently some palestinians fired a rocket into Israel, and this infuriated the Sik man. He says in India he loves all the people, but the Muslims are just trouble. This sentiment has been echoed by other indians ive spoken to.
Continued reading Salman Rushdie's Midnights Children, and its great to read foreign books in the country where the story takes place.
We did some other stuff, went to see somel lame waterfall, and generally though mussorie an unimpressive tourist trap for wealthy indians. I drank my first indian beer here.
Day 20
Influenced by the Australian round-the-world couple we left Mussorie at 5am. Riding in the morning is the best idea ever: no traffic, no heat, see the sunrise, get to destination early before dark.
The bike is riding a million times better, did i mention? new air filter, cleaned carburator, new back brakes.
We rode to Shimla, a long long long 12 hour ride. Winding roads through the hills, beautiful majestic vistas as usual, great weather, until we reached Shimla, started raining. Shimla is another indian hip tourist spot, where all the indians go on holiday around this time of year to escape the heat in the own miserable cities. Its apparently an Indian holiday...although almost every day is an indian holiday as, did you know? there are 180 official indian holidays. We tought about staying in Shimla, but wisely made the decision to pass thru and continue one more hour to the next city called Tatapanni. Shima is 1700 meters and the road to Tatapanni goes down down down through some of the worst roads we've seen, to about 600 meters. There is a river and a bridge, and a few stores and houses. On the river is a hotel called Spring View, great review in Lonely Planet.
Day 21
We stayed in Tatapanni for three whole days. One of the loveliest spots we've been, and a pleasant unexpected surprise. The river bed has natural sulphur hot springs which the hotel uses in its hot spring baths. On our first day in T.P. we rode the Shiva's cave, but instead of going to the cave itself, we took a different hike that led as to a river and some small waterfulls. While michal sunbathed i explored the various waterfalls, played with some local kids, and though general things like: WOW this is heavenly!! I could stay here forever...until the clouds came and it started raining again. In this town the first half of the day is blue skies and perfect temps, and the second half is thunderstorms andlighting. I like that.
After the falls soaking in sulphur water. Supposedly this is good for you? I have dry skin so I hope it helps and makes me soft and silky.
Day 22
Rode to the town nearby adn explored. There was a march that we learned later was a protest by the lowest caste to gain more respect by the local government. We drank chai and ate the typical indian sweets: rice cakes, deep fried honey sticks, and sugared bread thing. Not great by itself, but with chai - perfectemente.
Back at the pad we struck up a conversation with a couple indians from Chandigarh, about our age, graphic designer and computer software programmer who work for American companies outsourcing to india. These were rather modern men, but it seems that Indians, and ill stereotype here, are relatively naive. They often dont see outside their little indian box, and know little about the outside world. They are also very conservative. Even the most progressive indians think that marriages should be arranged, that women should be fully covered, that drugs are bad always and always without question no matter what even one puff. Moreover it seems that indians are overwhelmingly religious, with widespread belief in reincarnation. This belief goes a very long way in explaining india's slow progress on social fronts, i.e. its adherence to the caste system. That is, poor slum dwellers were bad bad bad in their last life and now they have to be beggars and eat trash and be good thru it all so that they can be reborn as something better than a beggar.
The whole system sounds absurd and astonishing, and when Im speaking with what seem like serious educated indians it is shocking that they believe in this bullcrap. While faith in a god or gods generally sounds insane to me, the indian beliefs have widespread ramifications for indias poor population. Instead of trying to get education and leave a life of poverty, poor indians dont try to improve their situation. Its a tragedy if you ask me. I know there are probably indians who dont fit this stereotype, but Ive spoken to at least nine different indians who all strike me as believing in the same antiquated ideas despite having university educations.
At night we ate dinner with a 25 year old indian veterinarian we met at the hotel and he had the same notions that i speak of above. He says he wants a girlfriend who is sexy for sex (which he has never had) but that his marriage is another matter that he will have his parents arrange, and that this women must be loyal and educated, and also a good cook. He is part of the warrior caste, and must marry within his caste.
More hot sulphur baths at night with a japanese couple who spoke no english but painted me in watercolors.
Day 23
Woke up this morning again at five am. Im so tired ill relate this fantastic day in my next post. Suffice it to say we're in Manali, and we can see the himalayas from our guesthouse room. Awesome!
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
cont.
Day 15 cont.
After we arrived in the fabulous town called Rishikish, we found ourselves at a lovely complex of guesthouses, one of which is the Swiss Cottage.
We ate dinner at the local restaurant, and, exhausted, went to sleep very early.
Day 16
Yesterday. I'm finally bringing my blog up-to-date.
Woke up early and headed for a Yoga session. Rishikish claims to be the Yoga capital of the World, and Michal and I couldnt pass up an offer on a seriously cheap Yoga session in a seriously serious Yoga city. 8:30 we met with the teacher and some students and headed for a shady park with a bungaloo in which we laid on mats with our shoes off.
The session was 1.5 hours and was perfect. I consider myself in good shape now, since I've been working out and stretching ever since I started physical therapy on my messed up ankle, so the Yoga was not hard on me. We did AAAAAAAAAAAuuuuuummmmmm, and we breeeeaaaathed and we reelaaaaaaaaaaaaxeddd. It was very relaxing for sure.
We reeeelaxed, and we felt the faaaaat, and we tououuuuched ourselves while listening to ravi shankar or one of his wannnnabees. I loved this and I will definitely do it again, maybe tomorrow.
After this I wanted to get the motorcycle problems checked out. First we did a short tour of the city and realized that this is a tourist trap from hell full of Indians on pilgrimage. There is a nice bridge that tons of Indians cross, precariously. And there is a market akin to Delhi's main bazaar. It's worse though because at least Delhi's main bazaar doesnt claim to be a holy destination. The area itself is pretty hot, and the big yoga centers are hot and dirty.
We decided Rishikish is best experienced from the comfort of the Swiss cottage.
In the afternoon we took the bike to a place we heard about from other travelers where a man who calls himself Lucky works on Enfield motorcycles. He has a good reputation, and whats more, is that he speaks Hebrew. Thats right, he's a 100% indian who speaks 100% Hebrew. He literally speaks like an Israeli, with all the slang in the proper places.
I was at the shop for five hours, and left with a new air filter, a cleaned carburator, a new drum brake in the back, a couple lagers (this is the word in hebrew anyway) and a much increased understanding of the mechanics of motorcycles. Lucky is basically a 22 year old who owns a couple shops and has been working on bikes since the age of two, and his three employees are between the ages of 12 and 17. The 12 year old says Sababa all the time, and is the most experienced.
The shop is a gathering spot for israelis and australians and others with enfields, exchanging ideas and stories, drinking chai and sitting for hours waiting for their bike to get fixed. The way things work in India in general is that things take Looooong, very long to get done. Getting the air filter replaced, a job that takes about 10 minutes normally, goes something like one hour to get the part, one hour for it to sit around, one hour to have someone put it in, and one hour to close the lid. The three employees rotate from bike to bike in no particular order using their hands as napkins, lubing with their fingers, using swiss army knife tools for everything, and taking a multitude of breaks and generally forgetting what they were just doing.
After the job was done my bike runs like a totally different machine, though their is a strange sound that it makes that Lucky claims is perfectly normal, but i find annoying. I guess its just the enfield, which is probably the reason it costs one tenth of any normal bike any where else on the planet.
At ten minutes to seven I begged Lucky to let me pay, since I had a massage appointment at seven. Being extremeley ticklish i never got a massage before, and since Michal scheduled one, I figured its now or never.
My massuese (sp?) went to work on my legs first, and I had to bite my teeth to prevent myself from erupting in laughter. He spread hot lather on my body and massaged my whole body. The only weird part was that he rolled my pants down past my buttocks when I laid on my stomach, and massaged my butt. The whole experience was pleasant and very reeeeeelaaaaaaaxing. This whole place is all about reeelaaaaaaxing.
Day 17
Today. no Yoga, my legs are sore from it. Woke up early and went to get a haircut. I ended up getting the mohawk again, even though my parents hate it, but I figure what the heck Im in india and the other travelers all have dreadlocks and mohawks and little strange ponytails so whatever. It makes me look hare krishna or something so its totally fine. And I look good with it anyways.
We then went and bathed in the ganges river in some secluded area with a bunch of indian children who we took pictures with. I accidently dunked my head in the water and I hope I dont get leprosy as I hear they burn lepers and throw their ashes in the ganges river.
We ate and chilled in the afternoon. When we got back to the Swiss Cottage I noticed a couple of sixty year olds working on a giganitc motorcycle. I went over and chatted them up and realized that I was talking to some serious RTW (round the world) bikers from Australia. Turns out they had been riding around the world for the last eleven years!! They visited every country except for 17, and were doing all this on an electraglide harley davidson! These are the people I had been reading about on Horisonsunlimited.com for the past couple years, these are my heros! Anyways we talked to them for an hour and were just amazed by their stories. They said that India has by far the worst traffic and drivers, and said that if I could ride in India I could ride anywhere!
Thats it, tomorrow we're going for Yoga again in the morning, and then we're outa here cuz its just too damned hot. We're heading for the hills again!
After we arrived in the fabulous town called Rishikish, we found ourselves at a lovely complex of guesthouses, one of which is the Swiss Cottage.
We ate dinner at the local restaurant, and, exhausted, went to sleep very early.
Day 16
Yesterday. I'm finally bringing my blog up-to-date.
Woke up early and headed for a Yoga session. Rishikish claims to be the Yoga capital of the World, and Michal and I couldnt pass up an offer on a seriously cheap Yoga session in a seriously serious Yoga city. 8:30 we met with the teacher and some students and headed for a shady park with a bungaloo in which we laid on mats with our shoes off.
The session was 1.5 hours and was perfect. I consider myself in good shape now, since I've been working out and stretching ever since I started physical therapy on my messed up ankle, so the Yoga was not hard on me. We did AAAAAAAAAAAuuuuuummmmmm, and we breeeeaaaathed and we reelaaaaaaaaaaaaxeddd. It was very relaxing for sure.
We reeeelaxed, and we felt the faaaaat, and we tououuuuched ourselves while listening to ravi shankar or one of his wannnnabees. I loved this and I will definitely do it again, maybe tomorrow.
After this I wanted to get the motorcycle problems checked out. First we did a short tour of the city and realized that this is a tourist trap from hell full of Indians on pilgrimage. There is a nice bridge that tons of Indians cross, precariously. And there is a market akin to Delhi's main bazaar. It's worse though because at least Delhi's main bazaar doesnt claim to be a holy destination. The area itself is pretty hot, and the big yoga centers are hot and dirty.
We decided Rishikish is best experienced from the comfort of the Swiss cottage.
In the afternoon we took the bike to a place we heard about from other travelers where a man who calls himself Lucky works on Enfield motorcycles. He has a good reputation, and whats more, is that he speaks Hebrew. Thats right, he's a 100% indian who speaks 100% Hebrew. He literally speaks like an Israeli, with all the slang in the proper places.
I was at the shop for five hours, and left with a new air filter, a cleaned carburator, a new drum brake in the back, a couple lagers (this is the word in hebrew anyway) and a much increased understanding of the mechanics of motorcycles. Lucky is basically a 22 year old who owns a couple shops and has been working on bikes since the age of two, and his three employees are between the ages of 12 and 17. The 12 year old says Sababa all the time, and is the most experienced.
The shop is a gathering spot for israelis and australians and others with enfields, exchanging ideas and stories, drinking chai and sitting for hours waiting for their bike to get fixed. The way things work in India in general is that things take Looooong, very long to get done. Getting the air filter replaced, a job that takes about 10 minutes normally, goes something like one hour to get the part, one hour for it to sit around, one hour to have someone put it in, and one hour to close the lid. The three employees rotate from bike to bike in no particular order using their hands as napkins, lubing with their fingers, using swiss army knife tools for everything, and taking a multitude of breaks and generally forgetting what they were just doing.
After the job was done my bike runs like a totally different machine, though their is a strange sound that it makes that Lucky claims is perfectly normal, but i find annoying. I guess its just the enfield, which is probably the reason it costs one tenth of any normal bike any where else on the planet.
At ten minutes to seven I begged Lucky to let me pay, since I had a massage appointment at seven. Being extremeley ticklish i never got a massage before, and since Michal scheduled one, I figured its now or never.
My massuese (sp?) went to work on my legs first, and I had to bite my teeth to prevent myself from erupting in laughter. He spread hot lather on my body and massaged my whole body. The only weird part was that he rolled my pants down past my buttocks when I laid on my stomach, and massaged my butt. The whole experience was pleasant and very reeeeeelaaaaaaaxing. This whole place is all about reeelaaaaaaxing.
Day 17
Today. no Yoga, my legs are sore from it. Woke up early and went to get a haircut. I ended up getting the mohawk again, even though my parents hate it, but I figure what the heck Im in india and the other travelers all have dreadlocks and mohawks and little strange ponytails so whatever. It makes me look hare krishna or something so its totally fine. And I look good with it anyways.
We then went and bathed in the ganges river in some secluded area with a bunch of indian children who we took pictures with. I accidently dunked my head in the water and I hope I dont get leprosy as I hear they burn lepers and throw their ashes in the ganges river.
We ate and chilled in the afternoon. When we got back to the Swiss Cottage I noticed a couple of sixty year olds working on a giganitc motorcycle. I went over and chatted them up and realized that I was talking to some serious RTW (round the world) bikers from Australia. Turns out they had been riding around the world for the last eleven years!! They visited every country except for 17, and were doing all this on an electraglide harley davidson! These are the people I had been reading about on Horisonsunlimited.com for the past couple years, these are my heros! Anyways we talked to them for an hour and were just amazed by their stories. They said that India has by far the worst traffic and drivers, and said that if I could ride in India I could ride anywhere!
Thats it, tomorrow we're going for Yoga again in the morning, and then we're outa here cuz its just too damned hot. We're heading for the hills again!
Tharali
Day 14
Ok so we left Kasar Devi around 12pm after fixing the back sprocket which has at least four broken teeth. The bike was causing us some problems at this point, and we were hoping this would solve the problems. It solved some of the problems, but as will become apparent, did not solve all of them. I asked the mechanic if the back brakes were ok, as they were screeching, and he said they were fine, and that the bike was in top shape. With this, we took off for Rishikish.
We knew we wouldnt make Rishikish in one day, as it is 270 kilometers away thru winding hilly roads. We decided on a two part excursion. The first 50 miles were pure hell, as the roads were 100% broken up into rocky asphalt, mud, and rocks. Apparently there was a bad landslide not too long ago. After this we ran out of gas, and were hoping to make the nearest gas station on reserve. Luckly the way was mostlydown hill, so I cruised on neutral thru idylic winding valleys, trying to make it to the nearest petrol dock. This part of the journey\ saw someof themost beautiful valleys known to man, with very nice roads, and small, quaint villages that probably hadnt changed ways since 1605, or somewhere around then.
We made the gas station in the nick of time, though I was concerned about the quality of the fuel. The attendent assured us that we were in good hands, though I had my doubts. After this we continued on, stopping for lunch in Kausani, a touristy outpost without any tourists. We were about 1700 meters up at this point. Refueled on both gas and food, we left and rode through more winding hills and valleys for the next four hours. At various points we saw little girls carrying bundles of hay on their heads largerthan twice their body sizes. Today was sunday, so the roads were quiet and free of the hellish oil tankers that emit black clouds that would make even the worst SUVS seem environment friendly. I dont think they have fuel emission regulations in India, of if they do, they definitely do not enforce them.
Eventually we reached great heights, at 2000 meters, and saw some opf the lovliest mountain ranges and small villages ever. We noticed that for the most part, boys and men sat around in groups drinking chai and smoking beadies, while the women did chores, carried bundles of hay and leaves, and were generally not as visible. Also, the men were very friendly, waving and smiling al the time, while the women were a bit serious. Maybe they resented the unfairness of this situation?
After a while the sun set and we started looking for a place to stay. Tharali was on the map as a larger village, and we got there just as the sun set. Picture a small valley nestled amongst giant hills, a river in between, a bridge connecting the two sides, and small innocent peoples all overthe place. Nobody spoke english nor where there any signs, but eventually we found a hotel and went to sleep early.
One thing we noticed was that in the very small villages, we're talking ten houses or so, before Tharali, the people seemed to be of a different religion than the typical hinduism, because they dressed in a different style, especially the women. They reminded me of those pictures in national geographic from some far flung place in serbia. The women milked cows and beheaded turkey, while boys pumped water from midievalwells. All in all a simple lifestyle that seems quite attractive, really. The folks werejust so gosh darn happy. It really seems like they could easily have passed the last century without even the slightest knowledge that two world wars were taking place in other parts of the world.
Day 15
In Tharali we woke up early and left. The bike was causing some problems at this point, mostly backfiring in higher gears, poor acceleration, and strange noises. Also the back brakes were kinda shot. After a long haul thru more broken roads, we finally reached a long stretch thru large mountains that just went up and up and up. This was strange as Rishikish is in a valley, so we knew eventually there would be a long descent. Alsothe weather increased at this point.
The last stretch saw major traffic and lots of pilgrims, as rishikish is a major pilgrimage center, being located on the Ganges. We finally reached rishikish and got a spot at the Swiss guesthouse, recommended by lonely planet. This place is where we're staying now, and it has everything on premises: yoga center, massage, restaurant, bookstore, laundry, and all we're paying ign 150 rups per night. Theres even shower with hot water, wow!
Ok so we left Kasar Devi around 12pm after fixing the back sprocket which has at least four broken teeth. The bike was causing us some problems at this point, and we were hoping this would solve the problems. It solved some of the problems, but as will become apparent, did not solve all of them. I asked the mechanic if the back brakes were ok, as they were screeching, and he said they were fine, and that the bike was in top shape. With this, we took off for Rishikish.
We knew we wouldnt make Rishikish in one day, as it is 270 kilometers away thru winding hilly roads. We decided on a two part excursion. The first 50 miles were pure hell, as the roads were 100% broken up into rocky asphalt, mud, and rocks. Apparently there was a bad landslide not too long ago. After this we ran out of gas, and were hoping to make the nearest gas station on reserve. Luckly the way was mostlydown hill, so I cruised on neutral thru idylic winding valleys, trying to make it to the nearest petrol dock. This part of the journey\ saw someof themost beautiful valleys known to man, with very nice roads, and small, quaint villages that probably hadnt changed ways since 1605, or somewhere around then.
We made the gas station in the nick of time, though I was concerned about the quality of the fuel. The attendent assured us that we were in good hands, though I had my doubts. After this we continued on, stopping for lunch in Kausani, a touristy outpost without any tourists. We were about 1700 meters up at this point. Refueled on both gas and food, we left and rode through more winding hills and valleys for the next four hours. At various points we saw little girls carrying bundles of hay on their heads largerthan twice their body sizes. Today was sunday, so the roads were quiet and free of the hellish oil tankers that emit black clouds that would make even the worst SUVS seem environment friendly. I dont think they have fuel emission regulations in India, of if they do, they definitely do not enforce them.
Eventually we reached great heights, at 2000 meters, and saw some opf the lovliest mountain ranges and small villages ever. We noticed that for the most part, boys and men sat around in groups drinking chai and smoking beadies, while the women did chores, carried bundles of hay and leaves, and were generally not as visible. Also, the men were very friendly, waving and smiling al the time, while the women were a bit serious. Maybe they resented the unfairness of this situation?
After a while the sun set and we started looking for a place to stay. Tharali was on the map as a larger village, and we got there just as the sun set. Picture a small valley nestled amongst giant hills, a river in between, a bridge connecting the two sides, and small innocent peoples all overthe place. Nobody spoke english nor where there any signs, but eventually we found a hotel and went to sleep early.
One thing we noticed was that in the very small villages, we're talking ten houses or so, before Tharali, the people seemed to be of a different religion than the typical hinduism, because they dressed in a different style, especially the women. They reminded me of those pictures in national geographic from some far flung place in serbia. The women milked cows and beheaded turkey, while boys pumped water from midievalwells. All in all a simple lifestyle that seems quite attractive, really. The folks werejust so gosh darn happy. It really seems like they could easily have passed the last century without even the slightest knowledge that two world wars were taking place in other parts of the world.
Day 15
In Tharali we woke up early and left. The bike was causing some problems at this point, mostly backfiring in higher gears, poor acceleration, and strange noises. Also the back brakes were kinda shot. After a long haul thru more broken roads, we finally reached a long stretch thru large mountains that just went up and up and up. This was strange as Rishikish is in a valley, so we knew eventually there would be a long descent. Alsothe weather increased at this point.
The last stretch saw major traffic and lots of pilgrims, as rishikish is a major pilgrimage center, being located on the Ganges. We finally reached rishikish and got a spot at the Swiss guesthouse, recommended by lonely planet. This place is where we're staying now, and it has everything on premises: yoga center, massage, restaurant, bookstore, laundry, and all we're paying ign 150 rups per night. Theres even shower with hot water, wow!
Monday, May 21, 2007
Leaving Nainital
Day 9
Woke up in Nainital, overcast day, though the view from the guesthouse balcony was mesmirising.
Ok this keyboard sucks major ass.
We left and rode to Almora, about 120 Kilometers away, also in the hills, though a bit lower. Nainital is 1900 meters, adn Almora is 1700. The ride was awesome, full of beautiful scenic vistas and jaw-dropping mountain ranges. We also saw baboons, monkeys, cows, goats and rabied dogs.
When we got to almora it started to rain. We wanted to get our luggage rack fixed, since it had broken in one part. We stopped at a welder in town, and he took off with the bike to somewhere, came back 20 minutes later. Fixed. Or so we thought. We left and made our way up a precarious hill to a mound called Kasar Devi, which is teh name of the temple that occupies that mound. This a spot that lots of Israelis with motorcycles like to visit. Its a breathtaking place.
On the way up, the rain increased and all of a sudden the bike just stopped. It wouldnt start, and the rain continued. We rolled the bike down the hill in neutral to the nearest guest house, called the Pink House. There was a bike on the roof, with jamaican flag stickers and a marijuana leaf sticker, so we knew an israeli was already living there. Turns out there was a couple.
Tuval, 22, helped with bike, which as it turns out, was just an idle problem. We went to sleep early after chatting with the israeli couple for a bit.
Day 10
Forgot to mention that on the way up the hill to Kasar Devi, after fixing the luggage rack, the whole luggage rack fell apart. So in the morning I took it to a place called Dani's Autos, and spent the whole day fixing this rack. Tuval told me to never ever take my eyes of my bike at a mechanic, as they may create a new problem where on edidnt exist, so I just sat and watched them perform. I am now an expert in welding motorcycle luggage racks. The whole procedure cost a whopping 220 r, or about five bucks. I then blogged on the internet, and then went back to watch the sunset with Michal, who read books all day. Michal, turns out, is a bookworm. She has already completed three books since we arrived in India. Not much happens in Kasar Devi at night. It's really dark, and i think people go to sleep early. This keyboard sucks so bad. We cooked a friday ight dinner with our guest house mates, Moaz and Puah.
At the Pink House we dont actually get a bucket of hot water in the morning, but we actually have to make a fire and boil our own water...definitely back to the basics. And the bathroom doesnt have toilet, but a ceramic hole in the floor that you pee into or crouch over. You then manually poor water down.
Day 11
Michal nad I rode around Almora in the hills and then hiked a bit. We then sat in the local cafe with other Israelis and some Austrians and Japanese and ate Thali and read books. Very chill. At night we cooked again with Moaz and Puah, who call each other Baby and Boobik, constantly.
Day 12
We rode to the Kasar Devi temple, and talked with some Hindus there. We took off our shoes and prayed to the Lord Vishnu. I tried to talk with the Priest but he was out to lunch.
We then rode to Jageshwar about 38 kilometers away, to visit a site with 124 small temples nestled in a forest of deodars. The ride was pleasant, but the temples were unimpressive. We decided this was the last temple we wanted to visit after the Priest made us give a donation. Some kids asked us for money and we took their pictures.
On the way back I started noticing bike problems. When we came back I decided with Moaz that the problem was the sprocket on the back wheel, which has at least four broken teeth. We went to the mechanic up the hill, and he told me to fix this in the morning.
Day 13
I changed the sprocket in the morning at the mechanic, and we left Almora. Our next destination was Rishikesh, which is where I am now.
Woke up in Nainital, overcast day, though the view from the guesthouse balcony was mesmirising.
Ok this keyboard sucks major ass.
We left and rode to Almora, about 120 Kilometers away, also in the hills, though a bit lower. Nainital is 1900 meters, adn Almora is 1700. The ride was awesome, full of beautiful scenic vistas and jaw-dropping mountain ranges. We also saw baboons, monkeys, cows, goats and rabied dogs.
When we got to almora it started to rain. We wanted to get our luggage rack fixed, since it had broken in one part. We stopped at a welder in town, and he took off with the bike to somewhere, came back 20 minutes later. Fixed. Or so we thought. We left and made our way up a precarious hill to a mound called Kasar Devi, which is teh name of the temple that occupies that mound. This a spot that lots of Israelis with motorcycles like to visit. Its a breathtaking place.
On the way up, the rain increased and all of a sudden the bike just stopped. It wouldnt start, and the rain continued. We rolled the bike down the hill in neutral to the nearest guest house, called the Pink House. There was a bike on the roof, with jamaican flag stickers and a marijuana leaf sticker, so we knew an israeli was already living there. Turns out there was a couple.
Tuval, 22, helped with bike, which as it turns out, was just an idle problem. We went to sleep early after chatting with the israeli couple for a bit.
Day 10
Forgot to mention that on the way up the hill to Kasar Devi, after fixing the luggage rack, the whole luggage rack fell apart. So in the morning I took it to a place called Dani's Autos, and spent the whole day fixing this rack. Tuval told me to never ever take my eyes of my bike at a mechanic, as they may create a new problem where on edidnt exist, so I just sat and watched them perform. I am now an expert in welding motorcycle luggage racks. The whole procedure cost a whopping 220 r, or about five bucks. I then blogged on the internet, and then went back to watch the sunset with Michal, who read books all day. Michal, turns out, is a bookworm. She has already completed three books since we arrived in India. Not much happens in Kasar Devi at night. It's really dark, and i think people go to sleep early. This keyboard sucks so bad. We cooked a friday ight dinner with our guest house mates, Moaz and Puah.
At the Pink House we dont actually get a bucket of hot water in the morning, but we actually have to make a fire and boil our own water...definitely back to the basics. And the bathroom doesnt have toilet, but a ceramic hole in the floor that you pee into or crouch over. You then manually poor water down.
Day 11
Michal nad I rode around Almora in the hills and then hiked a bit. We then sat in the local cafe with other Israelis and some Austrians and Japanese and ate Thali and read books. Very chill. At night we cooked again with Moaz and Puah, who call each other Baby and Boobik, constantly.
Day 12
We rode to the Kasar Devi temple, and talked with some Hindus there. We took off our shoes and prayed to the Lord Vishnu. I tried to talk with the Priest but he was out to lunch.
We then rode to Jageshwar about 38 kilometers away, to visit a site with 124 small temples nestled in a forest of deodars. The ride was pleasant, but the temples were unimpressive. We decided this was the last temple we wanted to visit after the Priest made us give a donation. Some kids asked us for money and we took their pictures.
On the way back I started noticing bike problems. When we came back I decided with Moaz that the problem was the sprocket on the back wheel, which has at least four broken teeth. We went to the mechanic up the hill, and he told me to fix this in the morning.
Day 13
I changed the sprocket in the morning at the mechanic, and we left Almora. Our next destination was Rishikesh, which is where I am now.
Friday, May 18, 2007
day 8
Day 8
Tuesday. We left delhi at six in the morning, our luggage tied precariously to the motorcycle. Left in searing heat, passed thru lots of traffic, exhaust fumes, and poor people. After a few hours we stopped at Moradabad, a hindu city with no tourists whatsoever. We were hot and dirty, and I ate some street food, some kind of rice on nan thing with questionable stew type substance. Not bad. Boys took lewd pics of Michal, and then we were surrounded by 30 townsfolk who just stood and stared at us. Cool. We left.
Next stop after a few hours was rampur, a Muslim town with less friendly people. Still very very hot. Drank Chai and left. This is where the route turns north, towards Nainital.
One thing we learned quickly about the driving, is that if two buses are in the opposite lane, and one is passing another, and theyre both coming straight at you, u better hit the margins, because they dont care if theyre about to run you over and end your life. Just the wayit goes in India.
Our luggage carrier broke a little at this point. Road became bad, and whether turned tropical: hot and humid. All of a sudden there were palm trees. After a while the road started heading uphill, and the air became cooler. This was a good sign, as were were heading to Nainital, a hill station, where rich indians go this time of year to cool off. Stopped and ate some Mangos. Finally, after 12 hours, we made it to Nainital, an incredibly scenic Indian tourist trap, with a big lake. Exhausted, we ate dinner. A group of Indian students approached and we started talking with them, they told us to come hang with them, and that their guest house was really great. We climbed 10000 steps and made it to their place which was "out of rooms" so we had to go to the place next door. Ive never seen so many moths in my life. Hot bucket of water for a shower. We kicked it witht he indians for a while, and I asked them all kinds of questions about india. Very interesting.
Most illuminating was that indias middle class and rich regard those living in slums as "liking it there", as if they choose to live that way, adn that they make a decent living begging. Also, supposedly it is widely believed that the slum indians teach their kids to beg from teh age of zero, and that this is just their "way of life." I find it hard to believe that anyone living near dumpsites in paper boxes with pigs and goats digging thru trash prefers that way of life to a decent home in a regular neighborhood with a regular job. But thats just my own opinion.
next day we left nainital and rode to Almora, which is where i am now. We've been ehre for teh past three days. Its incredibly beautiful and scenic, and ill discuss this in my next post.
Tuesday. We left delhi at six in the morning, our luggage tied precariously to the motorcycle. Left in searing heat, passed thru lots of traffic, exhaust fumes, and poor people. After a few hours we stopped at Moradabad, a hindu city with no tourists whatsoever. We were hot and dirty, and I ate some street food, some kind of rice on nan thing with questionable stew type substance. Not bad. Boys took lewd pics of Michal, and then we were surrounded by 30 townsfolk who just stood and stared at us. Cool. We left.
Next stop after a few hours was rampur, a Muslim town with less friendly people. Still very very hot. Drank Chai and left. This is where the route turns north, towards Nainital.
One thing we learned quickly about the driving, is that if two buses are in the opposite lane, and one is passing another, and theyre both coming straight at you, u better hit the margins, because they dont care if theyre about to run you over and end your life. Just the wayit goes in India.
Our luggage carrier broke a little at this point. Road became bad, and whether turned tropical: hot and humid. All of a sudden there were palm trees. After a while the road started heading uphill, and the air became cooler. This was a good sign, as were were heading to Nainital, a hill station, where rich indians go this time of year to cool off. Stopped and ate some Mangos. Finally, after 12 hours, we made it to Nainital, an incredibly scenic Indian tourist trap, with a big lake. Exhausted, we ate dinner. A group of Indian students approached and we started talking with them, they told us to come hang with them, and that their guest house was really great. We climbed 10000 steps and made it to their place which was "out of rooms" so we had to go to the place next door. Ive never seen so many moths in my life. Hot bucket of water for a shower. We kicked it witht he indians for a while, and I asked them all kinds of questions about india. Very interesting.
Most illuminating was that indias middle class and rich regard those living in slums as "liking it there", as if they choose to live that way, adn that they make a decent living begging. Also, supposedly it is widely believed that the slum indians teach their kids to beg from teh age of zero, and that this is just their "way of life." I find it hard to believe that anyone living near dumpsites in paper boxes with pigs and goats digging thru trash prefers that way of life to a decent home in a regular neighborhood with a regular job. But thats just my own opinion.
next day we left nainital and rode to Almora, which is where i am now. We've been ehre for teh past three days. Its incredibly beautiful and scenic, and ill discuss this in my next post.
Continued...
Day 6
Right so that was Sunday. First I have to add a strange experience. On my way to Hunuman's tomb on day 4 or 5? I was at a stop light with four slum kids trying to sell me crayons and batteries, for what purpose im not sure, when this old decrepit man with a cane and a shawl from bibilical days came round and started whacking them with his stick. Weird.
Anyways india is full of such bizarre sightings, especially Delhi.
So Sunday I woke up early, around 6am and took a rickshaw to the Nizummadin Train station. Riding in a rickshaw is not fun, and can be seriously dangerous. In fact, I feel quite confident in stating that its more risky than riding a motorcycle. The rickshaw driver keeps NO distance, and has so many "almost accidents" that it becomes a really good example of India's general lack of regard for individual human life. Recently a law was passed to raise rickshaw rates, but not the quality of teh rickshaws or that of the roads.
So I arrived at the train station at 7am for a 7:15 train. I thought it was gonna be a quick ticket and get a good seat situation. i was wrong. There were ten really really long lines with pretty poor looking indians all backed together ass to ass style shoving and grinding. So i got in line and hoped for the best. I was literally smashed up against the guy in front of me and the guy behind me was shoving his pelvis into me buttocks. Anything to make sure nobody cuts. So with this psuedo sexual dance i finally made it to the front o fthe line, where i managed to slip the man my money and get a ticket. It was 7:16. I ran to the platform and noticed that the train had started moving adn people were hanging one foot in one foot out of the entryways. I ran along the train and hopped on, pushing my way in, ending up between and entrance, a toilet, a family of five, and a couple beggar looking types. For the next three hours I stook there, and listened to my ipod. For the first hour the tracks out of delhi are populated by Delhi's famous slums. These are the poorest dwellings i have ever scene. Shacks made of cardboard and newspapers, surrounded by dumpsites, naked toddlers and pigs running around in the trash picking at it for treasure; old men bathing in dirty sewage water, women shitting near the tracks. Strangely enough, people find it important to brush their teeth in these situations, as i saw more than a few people brushing.
Made it to Agra. Immediately, as the lonely plant book warned, I was accosted by a travel agent guy of sorts who offered a rickshaw ride to Taj Mahal for only 52 ruppees. I tried to distance my self but he stuck to me like a fly sticks to shit. Finally i succumbed and got in a rickshaw with one of his cronies and took the ride. The guy turned out to be really coool, and showed me a little book where people wrote great reviews of his "agra tour". So for 400 R he took me around from 10 am to 7 pm to all the sites agra has to offer. We did the Agra Fort, the Agra Market, the Baby Taj, and finally teh Taj Majal. He stopped at vantage points and told me what to photograph, and told me stories. We stopped for Chai a few times, which is my new favorite drink and is pretty much the coffee of india.
The sights were great, but on their own, not worth a trip to Agra, which was hot at 45 degrees Celsius! Most annoying were the peddlers selling tours and trinklets, who just would not cease to annoy, and little boys and girls with mashed up faces begging for a couple ruppees. Of course if you give them a ruppee the rest of the town sees this and feels they deserve a couple ruppees too. So i give no ruppees. At the Baby Taj a group of 7 boys surrounded me and wanted to "talk" and i literally told them "get the fuck away from me i want to be alone" and that didnt work, so i killed them off with a shotgun i keep just for that purpose.
Finally i got the taj mahal, and Wow. Most beautiful building Ive ever seen. Not much to say here, except the inside is not impressive. I had to shit, so I looked about for a toilet. Couldnt find one. Then i found one and went inside to realize that there was no light. The stalls were pitch black. I told the attendent and he just shrugged. Not a good situation. Then the attendent told me to wait and got a lighter with a tiny flashlight from some lady and gave it to me with a roll of toilet paper. The stall was flooded with liquid, which I like to think was water, adn the light didnt do much. But I managed to relieve myself. Fucking taj majal, they charge foreigners 20 times more than indians, and they cant even supply some light in the bathroom! how does india except to get ahead?? Suffice it to say, the Taj Majal was awesome.
Got to the train, found a seat. After half an hour though, at a stop, a million women boarded and it was expected for me to stand and let them sit. So I did, thinking no big deal. It wouldnt be if teh train hadnt taken five hours instead of three to arrive at the destination. I stood for 4.5 hours, my ipod battery dead, no scene to look at (it was night), tired and dehydrated. What amazed me was how tolerant the indians were of this two hour delay without explanation. Nobody seemed worried at all the the train crawled along at exactly one mile perhour for the last two hours. People were standing and joking. I was incensed. And since nobody spoke english, i had no idea what was going on or when we would arrive. Finally we arrived adn i made my way home, after bargaining down the rickshaw ride from 450 r to 80. Long day, but worth it fo' sho'.
Day 7,
not much, Michal was better. Bought a road atlas, a bag, a couple tools, set up the motorcycle, went to sleep early, waking up at 5am departure.
Right so that was Sunday. First I have to add a strange experience. On my way to Hunuman's tomb on day 4 or 5? I was at a stop light with four slum kids trying to sell me crayons and batteries, for what purpose im not sure, when this old decrepit man with a cane and a shawl from bibilical days came round and started whacking them with his stick. Weird.
Anyways india is full of such bizarre sightings, especially Delhi.
So Sunday I woke up early, around 6am and took a rickshaw to the Nizummadin Train station. Riding in a rickshaw is not fun, and can be seriously dangerous. In fact, I feel quite confident in stating that its more risky than riding a motorcycle. The rickshaw driver keeps NO distance, and has so many "almost accidents" that it becomes a really good example of India's general lack of regard for individual human life. Recently a law was passed to raise rickshaw rates, but not the quality of teh rickshaws or that of the roads.
So I arrived at the train station at 7am for a 7:15 train. I thought it was gonna be a quick ticket and get a good seat situation. i was wrong. There were ten really really long lines with pretty poor looking indians all backed together ass to ass style shoving and grinding. So i got in line and hoped for the best. I was literally smashed up against the guy in front of me and the guy behind me was shoving his pelvis into me buttocks. Anything to make sure nobody cuts. So with this psuedo sexual dance i finally made it to the front o fthe line, where i managed to slip the man my money and get a ticket. It was 7:16. I ran to the platform and noticed that the train had started moving adn people were hanging one foot in one foot out of the entryways. I ran along the train and hopped on, pushing my way in, ending up between and entrance, a toilet, a family of five, and a couple beggar looking types. For the next three hours I stook there, and listened to my ipod. For the first hour the tracks out of delhi are populated by Delhi's famous slums. These are the poorest dwellings i have ever scene. Shacks made of cardboard and newspapers, surrounded by dumpsites, naked toddlers and pigs running around in the trash picking at it for treasure; old men bathing in dirty sewage water, women shitting near the tracks. Strangely enough, people find it important to brush their teeth in these situations, as i saw more than a few people brushing.
Made it to Agra. Immediately, as the lonely plant book warned, I was accosted by a travel agent guy of sorts who offered a rickshaw ride to Taj Mahal for only 52 ruppees. I tried to distance my self but he stuck to me like a fly sticks to shit. Finally i succumbed and got in a rickshaw with one of his cronies and took the ride. The guy turned out to be really coool, and showed me a little book where people wrote great reviews of his "agra tour". So for 400 R he took me around from 10 am to 7 pm to all the sites agra has to offer. We did the Agra Fort, the Agra Market, the Baby Taj, and finally teh Taj Majal. He stopped at vantage points and told me what to photograph, and told me stories. We stopped for Chai a few times, which is my new favorite drink and is pretty much the coffee of india.
The sights were great, but on their own, not worth a trip to Agra, which was hot at 45 degrees Celsius! Most annoying were the peddlers selling tours and trinklets, who just would not cease to annoy, and little boys and girls with mashed up faces begging for a couple ruppees. Of course if you give them a ruppee the rest of the town sees this and feels they deserve a couple ruppees too. So i give no ruppees. At the Baby Taj a group of 7 boys surrounded me and wanted to "talk" and i literally told them "get the fuck away from me i want to be alone" and that didnt work, so i killed them off with a shotgun i keep just for that purpose.
Finally i got the taj mahal, and Wow. Most beautiful building Ive ever seen. Not much to say here, except the inside is not impressive. I had to shit, so I looked about for a toilet. Couldnt find one. Then i found one and went inside to realize that there was no light. The stalls were pitch black. I told the attendent and he just shrugged. Not a good situation. Then the attendent told me to wait and got a lighter with a tiny flashlight from some lady and gave it to me with a roll of toilet paper. The stall was flooded with liquid, which I like to think was water, adn the light didnt do much. But I managed to relieve myself. Fucking taj majal, they charge foreigners 20 times more than indians, and they cant even supply some light in the bathroom! how does india except to get ahead?? Suffice it to say, the Taj Majal was awesome.
Got to the train, found a seat. After half an hour though, at a stop, a million women boarded and it was expected for me to stand and let them sit. So I did, thinking no big deal. It wouldnt be if teh train hadnt taken five hours instead of three to arrive at the destination. I stood for 4.5 hours, my ipod battery dead, no scene to look at (it was night), tired and dehydrated. What amazed me was how tolerant the indians were of this two hour delay without explanation. Nobody seemed worried at all the the train crawled along at exactly one mile perhour for the last two hours. People were standing and joking. I was incensed. And since nobody spoke english, i had no idea what was going on or when we would arrive. Finally we arrived adn i made my way home, after bargaining down the rickshaw ride from 450 r to 80. Long day, but worth it fo' sho'.
Day 7,
not much, Michal was better. Bought a road atlas, a bag, a couple tools, set up the motorcycle, went to sleep early, waking up at 5am departure.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Millions of Things
Ok.
so where do i start? ive been wanting to write but its just been so damned hectic that i forgot or got sidetracked or traveled or anything and everything else. about five days have passed since my first post and ive experienced and seen enuff things to fill a book, or more. ill make it simple for myself by just doing a day by day thing.
day 2 (may 9):
woke and and went to Karul Bahd market to buy or rent a motorcycle. this is the reason i came to india, to ride around on an enfield. Michal came with me, which was great, because she was able to sit and talk with teh salesperson while i took the bike for a test run. Got there by metro, went around the local market, Michal looked for sandals because her flipflops were creating large lesions in her feet, kindof gross. Tried a thunderbird, blue, not that great. Then i tried a brand spanking new thunderbird from teh showroom, nto impressed. Finally ran into a place caled Smart Motor, and we decided to rent a red thunderbird, for about 150 ruppess a month, roughly 4 dollars per day. Michal is splitting this with me for the first two months so thats 2 bucks each a day. Great deal, its a 2004 bike, and runs fantastic. Mohit, the main guy at the store said it was his first deal with foreigners so he was giving us a great deal. Weird thing i noticed was that Mohit is tall and kinda good looking, and his workers are all small and malnourished, i think its connected to the weird caste thing they have going on in india. brutal. Well i took teh red thunderbird for one day test ride. Not sure what we did that night, but probably not too much considering teh 120 F weather, which is brutal, really brutal.
Day 3
Test rode the bike around Delhi. Michal stayed at the main bazaar to work on her CV for some program she wants to attend in the fall. I just kinda rode off and got lost and it was so damned hot i ended up in some weird part of delhi thats rich people and lots of high end rickshaws. Nobody could help me but i finally made my way to Karul badd where I was gonna get a second opinion on this bike. Got one, good review. Foud my way back to Smart Moto and mohit and finallized the deal. He said i should come back at three to finallize the deal. I went to pick up Michal and we came back, left the biek for him to get ready. He put a luggage rack, new exhast (super awesome) and lubed it all over with astroglide. His mini-men (untouchable caste?) did most of the work, and the level of disrespect they endure is astonishing. Finally after getting everything ready we took off, and made our way back to the main bazaar in some seriously sketchy traffic. Ummmmm....people in delhi drive poorly. Because of the nonstandard size of the vehicles, a combe of three wheeled richshaws, tricycles, horse carriages, oxes, cows, and pedestrians, lanes dont mean jack. Its one big bumper car race with surprisingly few accidents and many close calls. But thats really just the markets in delhi, if you get out of those areas things become more organized. Honking is a way of life, and if you dont do it youre just not considered cool. In fact, teenagers get loud horns, just to show off. The horn on the thunderbird is pretty loud, and i keep my thumb on teh trigger at all times. We got back to the bazaar and went to dinner, sat at the cafe. I think i set up a budget or something but honestly the heat and traffic are exhausting, we drank about five liters of water each that day, and just tried to hang on for dear life.
Day 4
We were gonna go ride around delhi, but after a nice breakfast at the local cafe, Michal got sick, stomack sick. That was her situatino for the next three days. I didnt get sick, so I decided I should get vaccinated. In fact, i didnt have all the proper vaccines, so I found a place in delhi thats pretty high end and reliable and decided to go there to get typhoid, hep AB and rabies vaccines. On the way there I passed Hanuman's tomb and rememberd that its one of the "must see" places in delhi, so i stopped there for a look around. Strange and quite retarded thing about india is that all the sites have Indian prices, and foreigner prices, so the foreigners pay 10-20 times more to enter and see these blessed tombs and temples. Great way to encourage tourism. My question is, what if you're a tourist from Cambodia? that must suck. Anyways after this i tried to find the doctor man and spent two hours doing this. I got lost, and found myself in small desolate side towns with people looking at me funny. Awesome, this is what im here for. Finall y found teh doctor in a place called GK1, which is kind of like where the rich indians live. I got a bunch of shots and went home, weary, but still able to ride. Got home and fell asleep. Long long day.
Day 5
I thnk i skipped a day somewhere because im not sure what happened. Saturday? hmmmm. maybe i just slept, it was so damned hot. wait no, i think what i did on friday happend on saturday.
Ok, my fingers are tired. I'll complete day 6, 7, 8, 9, and today, tomorrow.
so where do i start? ive been wanting to write but its just been so damned hectic that i forgot or got sidetracked or traveled or anything and everything else. about five days have passed since my first post and ive experienced and seen enuff things to fill a book, or more. ill make it simple for myself by just doing a day by day thing.
day 2 (may 9):
woke and and went to Karul Bahd market to buy or rent a motorcycle. this is the reason i came to india, to ride around on an enfield. Michal came with me, which was great, because she was able to sit and talk with teh salesperson while i took the bike for a test run. Got there by metro, went around the local market, Michal looked for sandals because her flipflops were creating large lesions in her feet, kindof gross. Tried a thunderbird, blue, not that great. Then i tried a brand spanking new thunderbird from teh showroom, nto impressed. Finally ran into a place caled Smart Motor, and we decided to rent a red thunderbird, for about 150 ruppess a month, roughly 4 dollars per day. Michal is splitting this with me for the first two months so thats 2 bucks each a day. Great deal, its a 2004 bike, and runs fantastic. Mohit, the main guy at the store said it was his first deal with foreigners so he was giving us a great deal. Weird thing i noticed was that Mohit is tall and kinda good looking, and his workers are all small and malnourished, i think its connected to the weird caste thing they have going on in india. brutal. Well i took teh red thunderbird for one day test ride. Not sure what we did that night, but probably not too much considering teh 120 F weather, which is brutal, really brutal.
Day 3
Test rode the bike around Delhi. Michal stayed at the main bazaar to work on her CV for some program she wants to attend in the fall. I just kinda rode off and got lost and it was so damned hot i ended up in some weird part of delhi thats rich people and lots of high end rickshaws. Nobody could help me but i finally made my way to Karul badd where I was gonna get a second opinion on this bike. Got one, good review. Foud my way back to Smart Moto and mohit and finallized the deal. He said i should come back at three to finallize the deal. I went to pick up Michal and we came back, left the biek for him to get ready. He put a luggage rack, new exhast (super awesome) and lubed it all over with astroglide. His mini-men (untouchable caste?) did most of the work, and the level of disrespect they endure is astonishing. Finally after getting everything ready we took off, and made our way back to the main bazaar in some seriously sketchy traffic. Ummmmm....people in delhi drive poorly. Because of the nonstandard size of the vehicles, a combe of three wheeled richshaws, tricycles, horse carriages, oxes, cows, and pedestrians, lanes dont mean jack. Its one big bumper car race with surprisingly few accidents and many close calls. But thats really just the markets in delhi, if you get out of those areas things become more organized. Honking is a way of life, and if you dont do it youre just not considered cool. In fact, teenagers get loud horns, just to show off. The horn on the thunderbird is pretty loud, and i keep my thumb on teh trigger at all times. We got back to the bazaar and went to dinner, sat at the cafe. I think i set up a budget or something but honestly the heat and traffic are exhausting, we drank about five liters of water each that day, and just tried to hang on for dear life.
Day 4
We were gonna go ride around delhi, but after a nice breakfast at the local cafe, Michal got sick, stomack sick. That was her situatino for the next three days. I didnt get sick, so I decided I should get vaccinated. In fact, i didnt have all the proper vaccines, so I found a place in delhi thats pretty high end and reliable and decided to go there to get typhoid, hep AB and rabies vaccines. On the way there I passed Hanuman's tomb and rememberd that its one of the "must see" places in delhi, so i stopped there for a look around. Strange and quite retarded thing about india is that all the sites have Indian prices, and foreigner prices, so the foreigners pay 10-20 times more to enter and see these blessed tombs and temples. Great way to encourage tourism. My question is, what if you're a tourist from Cambodia? that must suck. Anyways after this i tried to find the doctor man and spent two hours doing this. I got lost, and found myself in small desolate side towns with people looking at me funny. Awesome, this is what im here for. Finall y found teh doctor in a place called GK1, which is kind of like where the rich indians live. I got a bunch of shots and went home, weary, but still able to ride. Got home and fell asleep. Long long day.
Day 5
I thnk i skipped a day somewhere because im not sure what happened. Saturday? hmmmm. maybe i just slept, it was so damned hot. wait no, i think what i did on friday happend on saturday.
Ok, my fingers are tired. I'll complete day 6, 7, 8, 9, and today, tomorrow.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
In in India!!
so im in new delhi now. I'm sitting in an internet cafe, though a cafe is a bit of an overstatement, as this is really a small stuffy room with a single dangling fan and three pre-1992 computers which makes them quite ancient, really. but everything is working fine, obviously i am writing my first blog from India on this computer so it must be. The time is 9am, and Michal is still sleeping. I myself am having trouble sleeping past 8am as it starts getting increasingly hot and plus im just so damned excited to be here that i just have to wake up.did i mention? I'm in new delhi, and also the caps key barely works so excuse the small case lettering. this is a part of town in Old delhi called the Main bazaar, and it certainly is bazaar, i mean...bizarre. get it? anyways this is not the most destitute place ive seen in my life, some slums in brazil are worse for sure, but its definitely the strangest, most surreal place ive been to. in all my travels, and ive been to quite a few places, ive never been so shocked by the difference in culture, attitude, behavior and lifestyle. this is truly a very different world from the one i live in, and its not just the cows roaming in the streets, either. It's not just the fact that milk is sipphoned off into metal containers brought from home from a very large jerry can riggamajig thingy. and its not just the honky tonk horn blaring human-car-motorcycle-bicycle-old lady bumper car thing going on right outside this store. It's also a lot of other things, lots and lots of other things.Suffice it to say, this trip is sure to change my perspective on pretty much everything. So im glad im here, couldnt have made a better decision.Oh and one thing thats going to make this the best trip of my life, is not just the fact that im travelling with Michal, who is an amazing person, but also the fact that im going to be travelling with her on a MOTORCYcLe!! thats right...we rented a bike yesterday, and today im giving it a test run. If everything checks out, we're heading to the hills (i.e. himalayas) on tuesday morning. the bike is a 2004 Enfield Thunderbird 350cc, large, well endowed, solid. we're renting for two months, and we got a damn good deal. 150 rupees per day, is a litte less than $4per day, or $120/month. thats not too much more than what my cell phone costs in new york, which i just remembered i need to disconnect. the gas mileage is really great 40kilometers/liter. drove her back through the city to the main bazaar yesterday from the main motorcycle area Karol Bahd and wow, driving here is an advenutre for sure. i also test rode two other bikes yesterday, another 2003 thunderbird, and also a brand spanking new 2008 model, with electric start. the bike i took felt the best, and honestly i like the kick start, it makes me feel like i live in the 70's.So i just had the grossest eggs for breakfast i ever ate. the yolk was off-white for some reason. I only ate a few bites. luckily the whole combo, eggs and toast and coffee, cost about 40 rupees, or $1, including tip, so i didnt feel too bad about leaving it.Oh and also some good news is I heard back from Ben Gurion and I got in to the Honors MBA program which was a pleasant surprise. Honestly i thought my chances were slim, so i was pretty happy when i read the letter. It took one week for the decision to be made. I wanted to celebrate, but where we live here its not exactly the going out type scene, unless you're interested in eating fried potatos and drinking sketchy pepsi with a bunch of 14 yr old boys who look 20. People here age much faster, probably the sun and heat, and the 27 hour work days. And its hard to get a beer, but i managed somehow. I had to pay a little extra, specifically one dollar, but I felt the celebration wouldnt be proper without a toast.The whole blog window is not in english, i guess some kindof computer driver problem, so im just gonna hit a button and hope it sends. ill write more later, now i need to go to the bathroom, probably related to those eggs i was talking about...
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