Rich in India

Chapter 42: The Motorcycle Diaries

2007-03-26T08:42:00.000+01:00

You cannot exist in India with western views on safety. It isn't possible. In the west we work on the basis that an accident is going to happen, but over here the assumption is that it isn't, so why take any precautions? And if, by some weird tear in the fabric of the universe, an accident does happen, if it ain't completely ruined, its as good as new:

I saw this guy wake up and drive off with my own 2 eyes. MY EYES.

I think it's basically that there are more pressing things to worry about and, quite frankly, life isn't considered to be so precious here. There also isn't quite the culture of blaming, suing, etc.
Incidentally, India also bypasses all safety laws when it comes to scientific research. And it enables them to be world leaders in, for example, cloning:

laboratory conditions indeed...

So, having become so nearly Indian in my outlook on the world(!), it was only natural that I abandon all "reasonable caution," get myself a dangerous vehicle (ideally with some nationalistic symbolism thrown in), and go crazy...

Actually, before I begin, there are some factors I'd like to mention that might reprieve me from condemnation as a moron by those less able to read between the irony or trust in my judgment... In India, the vehicles are less powerful, the roads terrible, the traffic chaotic (officially, they drive on the left, although that shouldn't be taken for granted, even on partitioned highways, and especially not at roundabouts... why go all the way round if its quicker to go anti-clockwise?)! Wait, how's this helping? Oh yes, the traffic is much slower. I learned to ride on empty roads, taking advice from people with lots of experience, I have about 1 month's experience of scooters in India, I'm well used to cycling in busy cities, and have been driving long enough (9 years!) to have some road sense. It may sound obvious, but riding a motorbike is just a cross between riding a bike and driving a car. Once you're used to the clutch being in your hand, and changing gears with your foot, its really straightforward. I feel safer on motorbikes than scooters, as its much easier to connect with the bike - ie you use your whole body, not just your wrists and elbows - and having more power means you can get out of trouble faster.
Right, without further ado, here's trousers:

YYYEEEAAAHHH!!! On the small chance that you haven't already done so, might I suggest that, wherever you are, you stand up, whoop, cheer, and if you're in the mood for chanting, how about "U-S-A" or "go tricky?"

Um.Like.Whatever. I didn't really intend to take the yellow bike with the union jack seat, but as I got on to try it out, my (very thin cotton) trousers ripped, so I was left without many options! Unfortunately, trousers only lasted a couple of days as his speedo & milometer didn't work, the latter of which is quite important, so I swapped him for a more cruisy, less sporty bike.

Anyway, my reason for hiring a motorbike was that there's no other way to see Kutch - India's westernmost region, in the north of Gujarat. Kutch had come highly recommended from several people I'd met on the way, and seemed like a great place for my last proper stop. It's ancient, has a great capital city (Bhuj), is packed with traditional villages, and has some incredible landscapes...

This is the Rann of Kutch. Its an enormous salt pan caused by the monsoon (when it happens) raising sea levels and flooding the whole low-lying area. It's an incredible sight, quite distracting...

Now, if you'd asked me before what the 3 things I'd least like to happen on a motorbike are, I might well have said:
a) have an accident. well, been there, done that, obviously not going to happen again.
b) run out of fuel somewhere very remote and quite scary. well, thankfully that particular village didn't completely ignore me like I've never been ignored before, probably because I was wearing a T-shirt (that only happened a couple of times), and managed to rustle up a litre of fuel from someone else's bike, and
c) trespass in the military zone between India and Pakistan, get stopped by some angry soldiers without enough English (only Gujarati or Kutchi or something more local) to be charmed, and be taken back to barracks. That was not my best move, but fortunately the commanding officer spoke good English, and I was so charming that by the end he was apologizing for not being authorised to give me a guided tour of the Rann in an army vehicle. My excuse for being there in the first place? Distracted by a flamingo of course

Biking round Kutch was one of the best things I've done in India. Navigating the roads with a terrible map (because a good one doesn't exist), trying to figure out which of the squiggly words on the sign is my best bet... one minute booting along an empty road, wind in my hair, noise of the engine, singing "speed demon", "high & dry" and other biker's classics at the top of my voice, next minute slow down to a stop as the road is blocked with a herd of goats, camels, or buffalos, and all is tranquil: the only sound is the occasional soft clinking of a bell around the neck of an animal...

Now, you may be shocked to hear me admit that I'm no archaeologist, nor am I an historian. I'll go even further than that: I'm well aware that my understanding of cultural development, and the timing thereof, is dangerously uninformed, so I'm generally not surprised by ancient ruins. However, to find myself walking along the streets of a city built 4,900 years ago, blew me away.

Welcome to Dholavira. As I understand it, it was created on the 8th day. No, wait, that was the day He named gWb His chosen one wasn't it? Anyway, its old. Bronze age I think. The "Harappan," or "Indus Valley" civilization, wot built it, was the first in the subcontinent to do anything beyond nomading, and they made something really quite special. Dholavira is on Khadir, which is an "island" in the Rann, 250km from Bhuj (where I was staying), so i spent the night at a great guesthouse where I shared my room with loads of birds.

I was the only guest, and one night plus 3 meals cost me about 2 pounds 50p. In fact, because Gujarat is so un-touristy, I stayed under budget despite paying for 2 rooms, bike hire and fuel!

So, I drove around, trying not to get too burned by the sun (I think it was the hottest I've been in India), but putting on sun block, sweating and driving through dusty country ain't pretty. What else? Oh yes, here's the westernmost point in India:

Well, its the furthest west you can go without drowning in salt or being shot on sight.

There was a massive earthquake very near Bhuj in January 2001. Here's where it happened:

10% of the population was wiped out, along with a great deal of the infrastructure. Yet it's one of the most up-beat, friendly places I've been. I doubt they'll ever repair much of the damage, just build around it. But, this is India.

So, I must go. I've written this post over the last week or so, so sorry if its disjointed. I'm now in Udaipur, Rajasthan, which is also excellent. In fact, this month I've been from one amazing place to the next. Its been really nice to slow down, although now I'm in a rush to get back to Delhi for my flight in less than 48 hours! Shit! This hasn't sunk in whatsoever. I'll write about Udaipur when I'm back, and I'll see some of you very soon. Here's a palace that was almost destroyed by the earthquake and may fall down any time. If you look closely you'll see the cat that got the cream...

Dear Sir, I have a complaint...

2007-03-19T05:08:00.000Z

... can't remember what it is. Perhaps something about songs I haven't heard in ages being stuck in my head. No, that wouldn't be a complaint. Nevermind...

Holi is the 3 day Hindu festival of colour. Or, more accurately, of throwing coloured tikka powder (which stains everything, including skin) at people, with special attention given to foreigners...

So it was with some trepidation that I decided to travel throughout the Holi weekend, on 3 trains and a bus, with an hour between each, from Amritsar to Diu. The prospect of being covered in pink powder when a shower was 2 days away made me extra vigilant though, and helped me to narrowly avoid 2 flying powder balls at new delhi station. It was just like the matrix, except that I was wearing 2 backpacks and a guitar!

(I talked to this porter for at least 10 minutes before someone told me he couldn't speak english)

Miraculously, Indian railways came through, & there was a bus just about to leave from Veraval (end of the train line) to Diu, so I probably had the smoothest journey in the history of Indian travel.

Gujerat then. My only knowledge of this state, prior to coming to India, was that the Patel caste (ie everyone with the surname "Patel") originated here, and (thanks to that annoying woman from Masterchef last year) that the food is pretty good!
Actually, the island of Diu isn't really part of Gujerat: like Goa, it was a Portugese colony, and retains a lot of Mediterranean flava. Its one of the most relaxing places I've been. Anywhere, let alone India. I stayed in a guesthouse on the side of this church:

Its the highest point on the island, so the views from the top are quite nice. Here's me pushing the boundaries of technology!

In case you don't know, click on the pic above...

So, I wrote some music, learned some french, drank too much (alcohol is the cheapest in India & is dangerously inexpensive), ate too much (Diu is a great place to come if, like me, you're dangerously underweight), marveled at the lack of mechanical noise, especially car horns, learned to ride a motorbike, & went to the beach

The guy on the left is an insane Scottish anarchist called Ed, who is probably the inspiration for Daffy in The Beach, and on the right is Uri from Tel Aviv, who is unlike any Israeli I've met over here. Unfortunately its very easy to stereotype as the vast majority have just come from military service, where they're taught how to behave like fucking morons. Uri's on his 4th trip to India, and was quite an inspiration to me. Meeting him coincided nicely with my end-of-trip reflections.

I only have 9 (NINE) days left in India, which is kinda scary. Not that I'm not looking forward to coming home, its just that this has been one of the best things I've ever done and its sad that it has to end. I wouldn't change anything about my trip: I couldn't hope for more from my first time in India. I really hope I remember what I've found here, & that I keep coming back (albeit for shorter stints). If (when) I do come back though, there are some things I'll do differently. There are many different ways you can spend time here, and I guess you could say that what I've done is effectively extensive sight-seeing: I've had small tasters of most of the beaten track in India. Which is great. I have impressions of many regions, and have some idea of what makes the "country" tick. However, it struck me as slightly perverse that (like most people), I've met (or rather, I've had meaningful conversations with) far more western travelers than I have Indians. I've rarely had to stray far from my comfort zone (although that's all relative), so I guess I haven't immersed myself as much as is possible. Again, no regrets, great for a first trip.

The biggest barrier is that I haven't learned more than the very basics of Hindi. Its easy to make excuses: English is the official second language in every state, Hindi isn't the official language anywhere, many people speak no Hindi, there are major regional variations in the way it's spoken etc. But, in reality, it would enhance traveling here enormously: Indians really appreciate it when someone's bothered to learn, its possible to go way off the beaten track and be much more "independent." Hindi is also, apparently, a relatively easy language to learn. So, next time, I hope I'll spend a month somewhere that pure Hindi is spoken, i.e. Varanasi.
Also, next time I hope I'll travel by motorbike. Its cool. Everyone knows it. Whilst I really like the trains, & can tolerate the buses, to have transport would open up so much more. Not that I'd want to travel too far too quickly: I reckon spending a couple of months in one state would be a great way to really know a place. After the time I spent teaching in Ghana, I'm dubious about the value of being involved in projects for less than a year. And I've actually spent less in total than the fees alone for such a project! Still, it seems that I will end up with a portable profession (in about 20 years) so there are options along that line.

I'm sure there was something else I wanted to say. Problem is, I have these thoughts, then get to the internet, ramble for a while, and miss half the points I wanted to make. Yes, there is an obvious solution! But still...

So, I stayed in Diu for 11 nights, which is the longest I've stayed anywhere in India. Something strange happens to time there. Breakfast lasts until lunchtime, and if you manage to go to the beach and do some washing, its been a really productive day! I eventually extracted myself though, & spent 16 hours on buses (arrgghh) to get myself to Bhuj, where I am now. Bhuj, and the Kutch region, are also excellent, but I'll save recounting my adventures with Trousers, my trusty companion, til next time...

Postcards from the Punjab, Postures from Pakistan

2007-03-13T06:22:00.000Z

Sometimes Indian railways is unbelievably efficient. The train from Delhi to Amritsar is one such example, and as I'd heard lots of good things about the place, I thought I'd visit. The bombings on the railway last month, which I imagine you heard more about outside India than I did inside, were on this route, and it seems that they're taking security pretty seriously: my whole rucksack was searched, and police dogs went throughout the train.

Amritsar is in the Punjab, right next to the Pakistan border, and is now one of my favourite places in India. Its most famous for the Golden Temple, which is the most holy site in the world for Sikhs. Yes, I'm doing quite well on the "most holy places" at the moment... Doubt I'll make it to Mecca, but you never know.

My uneducated and limited impressions lead me to consider Sikh culture to be closer to ours than most Indian cultures, in terms of mannerisms, gestures, niceties etc, and as a result it's easy to feel comfortable in Amritsar. There are still lots of people selling the same things, jostling for business, but somehow it feels friendlier. I don't know...

The Golden Temple is wonderful. Its so serene, relaxed, & has a genuinely spiritual atmosphere. Its also free to enter, there's a free kitchen , & nobody demands a donation. This makes a huge difference. The temple is in active use: thousands of pilgrims visit daily, but it doesn't feel crowded - people give each other space, don't feel the need to shout or use mobile 'phones! Unlike most Hindu temples, non-believers are allowed into the inner sanctum (no photos though), which is a genuine privilege. I sat transfixed inside for hours while people shuffled past, prayed, sang with the constant music that's played by 3 priests: one tabla, 2 harmoniums, all with incredible voices playing hypnotic cyclical stuff in keys that I couldn't understand. It was beautiful.

If you ever come to India, come here.

As I said already, Amritsar is very close to the Pakistan border. Every night at sunset is the border-closing ceremony, which is rather amusing... MC's on either side of the gates try to gee their crowds (seated in grandstands) into out-shouting/parting the other side. There's music, dancing, sudden silence, we hear "Pakistan" being chanted louder than "Hindustan," & raise our voices to match. It was close, but I'd have to give it to Pakistan (don't think he'd be happy about that though)...

Next, soldiers dressed like chickens perform elaborate mating rituals, stamping and scowling for their countries in synchrony with the other side. They stand still, then suddenly high-kick and start power-walking towards each other while the crowds roar them on. This goes on for a surprisingly long time.

I have no idea where this ritual came from, or why they choose to pursue it, but I don't think that really matters.
Fortunately, at the end of the dance, they decide to be friends and the flags are lowered for the night.

Everyone then tries to find their shared jeep back to Amritsar, and the festival is over. Driving back was like a computer game. Most of Amritsar is a grid without traffic lights, so motorbikes (lights off) just fly across our path, missing by a whisker. It didn't help that the most crucial part of any vehicle, the horn, was broken in our jeep. If I wasn't such a wishy-washy hippy, I'm sure I'd be able to use Indian traffic as a perfect example of the laws of entropy...

Amritsar, what else? Oh yes, the funniest place of worship in the world. Thanks Nye for recommending it...

This is Lal Devi. In her honour, this papier mache / marble fun house exists.

Apparently, its a temple, although I'd say its more a chamber-of-horrors-obstacle-course-glitter-ball-fairground-ride tacked precariously onto the side of a house.

You crawl through tunnels, splash through flithy water, check yourself in the mirrors, and worship!

So, that was Amritsar. I won't get any further north than it on this trip, although north-west India really appeals to me. I almost changed my mind while I was there, but I'd just sent all my cold weather clothing home with Mum, and didn't fancy freezing for my last month. I'll come back in the summer months one year and do it properly. It wasn't such a tough decision though, as I was on my way to Gujerat...

Rajasthan, rapidement

2007-03-05T11:30:00.000Z

Firstly, sorry the map's such a mess! When paint is the only programme available, its not so easy. I'll do a better one when I get home...

Rajasthan is the most visited state in India, and deservedly so. Of course, this means that it has the highest concentration of idiot tourists, and of Indians who rely on tourism for their income. I'd been looking forward to seeing the sights, but had the impression I wouldn't want to hang about there - once you've seen how pleasant things can be, it's hard to tolerate constant hassle. So, when deciding where to go with Mum for a couple of weeks of speedy travelling, it seemed like a good place.

It rained and rained in Delhi the day before she arrived. Paharganj was literally flodded with shit, and when I failed to find a hotel in a nicer area to ease the introduction to India, I wasn't best pleased. But, the weather changed and it had pretty much dried up by the time she arrived. Still, I'd figured it'd be best to leave Delhi quickly and spend a couple of days there at the end of the fortnight. So, I booked an overnight train to Jodhpur on the 2nd night. The one redeeming feature of Paharganj is that its very close to New Delhi train station, where our train was from. Or so I thought...

Having walked the length of the main bazaar (backpacks on, bit of a gauntlet), we arrived at 4.20pm, the departure time being 4.45, but couldn't see any info about it on the boards. Fortunately, we asked an official who actually knew what he was talking about, and he told us the train was, infact, from Old Delhi station. Oh dear. Never done that before, thought I'd checked, obviously hadn't. The only way we could possibly get there in time was on the Metro which, until then, I'd suspected was a figment of someone's imagination.

So... Cross the bridge over NDLS, 4.25pm, find the metro, figure out how to use the metro, security checks, 4.30pm, wait for train, giving up hope rapidly, train arrives, delhi metro turns out to be the best underground system I've ever been on, arrive in Old Delhi, 4.40pm, run to train station (with backpacks), try to find the platform number, its platform 23 and 2/3 or something, where the f*ck is that, run around, see platform in distance, 4.45pm, sprint down the platform, train begins to pull away, we catch it up and jump on, 4.48pm, welcome to India Mum!
I'm not going to turn this into a spiel of "I'm so proud of my Mum for coming to India and coping better than lots of backpackers" but she did and I am.

So, first stop Jodhpur.

Blue city, awesome fort, somewhat photogenic. Here's the view at sunrise from the 500 year old haveli we stayed in:

And here's a view from that there fort:

Its called Meherangarh, the maharaja of Jodhpur still lives there, and there's too much to get written in this post that I'm not going to go into more detail. Here are some monkeys though:

1 day in Jodhpur was enough. Loadsa hassle. Onto Jaisalmer. Citadel in the desert. C'est vraiment magnifique:

An advantage of travelling with mummy bank is nicer hotels, and in Jaisalmer we stayed in a brilliant one on the fort wall chcheckcheckchcheckchcheckitout:
A room

with a view

I'm not a big fan of camels. They smell, spit, piss on their tail then flick it at you, make phenomenal gurgling noises, and there's something sinisterly reptilian about them. Still, when in India...

It was good fun, nice to see the Thar desert, and fortunately we decided against camping under the stars as it proceeded to rain all night.

Sorry I'm doing this so quickly but I figured its better than not writing it... Next to Jaipur.

Came here at the start of my trip with Will and Jonny, watched cricket and was ill so hadn't really seen it. Not my favourite place (sorry to those of you to whom its dear). Its the capital of Rajasthan but is (relatively) very new, and doesn't (for me) have much in the way of redeeming features to compensate for the grime... Its OK, and worth seeing on the way somewhere else. Its also part of the golden triangle (Delhi-Agra-Jaipur) which is the most popular tourist route, especially for uberposh chauffer-driven eurocrats who are very happy to compare prices to Mayfair. Nice sundial though!

Ok Ok, I'm sure I haven't seen the best of Jaipur but nevermind. Next we went to Bharatpur for the Keoladeo Ghana national park. I found my tolerance for bird watching to be higher than I'd imagined, I guess because Daddy was a twitcher! And as this post is really a slideshow, here be birds:

And check out the driver we hired for a day:

One of the funniest things I've seen in a long time involved him stopping the car and mock-chasing a small child who'd been running after us for about 3 miles, asking for empty water bottles which we didn't have. In his turban and jootis (camel-leather slippers), running bow-legged, really slowly, waving his fist in the air while the terrified child fled was hilarious. We found the kid on the way back and gave hime 2 bottles though.

(I don't blame him for being scared though - Rajasthanis are a fiery people. I've seen 4 physical fights in India, all of them in Rajasthan)!

We stayed in Bharatpur for a few days with a really nice family, and then made our way back to Delhi via...

This is the hall of private audiences at Fatephur Sikri. It was built by Akbar, the greatest Mughal, to be his capital. He was into tolerance, peace, common truths between religions, and built this beautiful city 50 miles from any water, so it was quickly abandoned and is now a ghost town.

Then a quick stop in Agro (again), where we saw this

which is effectively the predecessor to this

Then, as our train was delayed by 5 hours, we played the uberposh chauffer-driven eurocrat card and took a taxi back to Delhi.

2 weeks was about right, I think my Mum would agree!

Again, sorry for writing this so quick like, but who reads this rubbish anyway?

byebye

Erotica Chaotica

2007-02-28T11:56:00.000Z

Dear Granny,
Please don't read this post.

Sorry I didn't write in a while. I lost control of the english language but I'm back now. Kinda. So, just a little post to fill you in on where its at. (This was all a long time ago now, so I'll skip through it...)

Varanasi to Khajuraho. A nasty little town with some filthy temples. Deservedly on the Saga bus route. Packs of touts thrusting the same crap under the noses of terrified retired big-shots and their fat wives. There was something rather carnal about it, seeing them speed up, desperately trying to power-walk their way out of the horror. All to no avail. It was messy. Where was I? Ah yes, Khajuraho. Rock porn:

I don't know when India covered up and went from tantric to "embarassed goat-nailers" as a 50somethingamericanhippywomancounsellor I met put it. Maybe it was the muslim influence, maybe the british. Shame. Now pairs of giggling 20-something Indian men get their kicks, and probably their sexual education, there. As you may have gathered, I wasn't overly enamoured by the town, but where else could you be accosted by a manic, greasy-lank-haired german practically dribbling while he blurts out "Excvuse me, do you know ver is zee carving of zee man fucking zee horse?" (OK, maybe in germany...)

That's quite enough of that.

So, in Khajuaraho I went to a guesthouse run by a yogi a few km outside of town, played ma geetar (and I must say I'm currently on fire musically) and did some yoga. Yoga is well good. My back feels like it might be designed to bend.

Hmm... maybe I've been a little harsh on Khajuraho. Nevermind. Next stop Orchha, which was a place I'd been really looking forward to as several people I'd met described it as a haven of tranquility, which was what I wanted after several crazy towns. But I was ill. Oh yes. I won't go into it - suffice to say I immediately reached for the antibiotics for the first time in India, thus annhilating any local resitance I'd developed. But believe me, it was necessary...

Orchha has some very nice old palaces, but I didn't really appreciate them given that I was confined to my room for 2 of my 3 days there. Still, a nice place to recuperate.

Then to Gwalior, site of a huge hill fort which (surprisingly rarely) has a Palace sporting Hindu architecture:

Quite nice, no? Variations on the 3-wheeled rickshaw theme can be found throughout India, but possibly my favourite so far are Gwalior's mad-max tongas:

I rushed through Gwalior, in order to get back to Delhi in time to meet my Mum(!) It was interesting to come full circle, and to see how my impressions of Delhi had changed. Unsurprisingly, I found it much less chaotic than I remembered. Paharganj (grotty backpacker area), which I considered a right-of-passage that I must learn to feel at home in when I arrived in October, I've come to realise is nothing of the sort. Its just a transit area to be endured for the minimum amount of time possible!

I'm actually in Paharganj now, about to go up to Amritsar, having just taken Mum back to the airport (2 weeks later), and will be filling you in on our Rajasthan adventures very soon, as well as explaining how (despite my efforts to make things as stress-free as possible) on her 2nd day in the country her first experience of an Indian train was having to jump onto a moving one!

Varanasi, 4am

2007-02-05T05:35:00.000Z

I couldn't sleep - mind in hyperspace, so I walked the streets of one of the oldest cities in the world by the light of the full moon (power cut), taking care not to walk into sleeping cows, or step in their shit. Indian cities, like all cities I guess, are great at night. They never sleep, there's always someone selling chai, cooking something, and as the city regained power I was passing this internet place. The guy who works here also sleeps here, which is standard, and he'd already let another insomniac in, so I thought I'd bring you up to date.

From Siliguri to Patna - capital of Bihar, India's poorest state. I didn't hang around when my train arrived at 3.30am, and took a taxi straight down to Bodhgaya. The whole 4 hour journey was through a thick mist, gradually turning from black to grey to pink to orange to white as the sun rose, out of which ghostly figures swathed in cloth sporadically appeared from nowhere, often dangerously close. Some driving a 2-cow cart, some squatting outside their huts, and many walking miles and miles to work before dawn. It was like some medieval horror film, but I was too tired to be scared, and my driver was quite sensible.

Buddha spent most of his life in Bihar and attained enlightenment under a Bhodi tree in Bodhgaya. The original tree is gone, but another, grown from a cutting of the original, is there in its place. The town is the most important pilgrimage site in the world for Buddhists. Besides a sprinkling of westerners & hotel/shop owners/workers, half of the people are Buddhist pilgrims, and the other half are beggars. There are thousands of beggars - they come from all over the state for the pilgrimage season (alms giving being an important part of Buddhism), sitting in enormous lines, often in a terrible physical state, all with the same begging bowl... the scale of it is impossible to convey. And even with the most cynical view on their tactics, & with the knowledge that they do earn enough to survive, its heartbreaking. But when your every move is tracked by several destitute children, its simply not an option to step back and consider just how different my childhood was. Whilst its easy to give enough to a few people for them to eat for the day, which I do, its such a hopeless situation in the current climate that I know anything I do is really for my own benefit. Not that I think feeling guilty is the solution...

So yes, Bodhgaya. Part dusty, filthy, smelly 3rd world disaster, part serene oasis of Buddhist tranquility. Every country with a significant Buddhist population has built a temple/monastery in the town, in their country's architectural style. For example, here's the Thai temple:

But really the whole town is decoration for the main event: the Mahabodhi temple &, more specifically, the Bodhi tree in its grounds. Stepping into the temple complex, especially having come from the bedlum outside, is like entering a different universe. It's a real privilege to be with monks from all over the world, in the place that's central to their beliefs, that they're visiting for the first time after decades of devotion. Sitting under the tree with them, listening to them chanting or seeing them meditating or prostrating themselves every step of the way round the perimiter, like this guy under the tree...

(the bodhi tree is illuminated, just below the Mahabodi temple)

I left the centre of the Buddhist universe at 5am, and by 11am I was in the heart of the Hindu universe: Varanasi. The city is spread along the banks of the river Ganges, where a long series of ghats (steps) make the water's edge accessible throughout the year (after the monsoon, the river can rise by 15m or so, judging by the tide marks on some of the buildings).

The old city, behind the ghats, where I am now, is a chaotic maze of alleys, winding through bazaars (markets), past temples, mosques etc. Cows, dogs, goats wander around, lines of shopkeepers hawking identical wares vie for attention, children fly kites from every available vantage point, invincible young men barge through on motorbikes - slick quaffs, sunglasses glued to their face, horns blaring, swerving as they speed past cauldrons of boiling oil in which an old man cooks something or other while his grandchildren play almost directly beneath. Imminent danger is everywhere. Disasters waiting to happen. Similar things happen in all Indian cities, but this may just be the most Indian city I've been to!

The ghats are extremely photogenic: the Ganga is the centre of Varanasi life. People come to pray, to swim, to wash, sewers empty into it, dead animals are floated into it. I decided not to eat any fish here...

Although they're good for photos, I've been really saddened and disappointed by the ghats (having heard so much abot them). It really feels like Hinduism for tourists: "ceremonies" are performed every evening to ticket-paying audiences, literally every other person you walk past wants to sell you something, and doesn't give up easily. And the saddhus. These "holy men" on the ghats were aptly described by an over-excited gap year girl on her mobile in the hotel last night as "a bunch of naked dudes smoking weed all day..."; not to mention the naked western hippies with them, enjoying the crowd of gob-smacked Indian tourists. One is not impressed. If I was a Hindu, I'd be really upset that such a holy place has descended to this. Of course, the less desirable elements are more in-your-face, so I appreciate I'm generalising. There are genuine parts, but still...

If you've heard one thing about Varanasi, its probably involves the burning ghats. These are ghats where cremations take place on open pyres. I won't go into detail. The (outlawed) caste system is still in full swing: higher castes are burned higher up the ghat, while untouchables handle the bodies. The cremations are gruesome, but I've spent a lot of time watching, and feel a great deal of respect for the way Hindu's treat death so openly. I've found it very helpful...

I'm finding northern India very different from the south. Put crudely, the south is closer to being a holiday, whereas the north is more of a challenge. I've done a lot of thinking in Varanasi, and have met some really nice people. Everyone travelling in India is here for a reason, and more often than not it boils down to the same things: we come here to appreciate what we have, to understand what we don't, and to come to terms with what we've lost. That, I believe, is called "gaining perspective."

So, there you go. I'm wide awake, its morning, I'm going to hire a boat & watch sunrise on the Ganga. Its going to be a glorious day...

Run to the Hills...

2007-02-02T13:11:00.000Z

...and freefall. (small town pretty)
Sorry, but its worth it if at least 3 people might understand, no?

Darjeeling. Now there's a nice name. It means "land of lightning" I believe, though in exactly what language, I'm not sure.
Everyone I'd spoken to had said not to go there as it's too cold at this time of year. But it was now or never, and I fancied a nice cup of tea. Actually, I don't really like Darjeeling tea, but I didn't want to go to Assam right now as things seem to be kicking off. And in case you're wondering, it was tribal people from Assam who first showed the british how to make tea, and it was the british who decided to plant it in Darjeeling. I digress...

It wasn't so cold when I arrived, so I went for one of the oldest hotels in town: at the highest point, lots of charm, a 3-room suite, 3 resident mice, very cheap (off season), no insulation, and a very old electric heater. I've could've got more heat from a match. It was SO COLD. 4 blankets, 2 duvets, thermal underwear, still cold.
But the views! The backdrop to the town is the Kangchendzonga range (part of the Himalayas), which has the 3rd highest mountain in the world. More on that later. It wasn't clear enough to see Everest, which was a real shame, as was the fact that I didn't use my camera for the 2 clear days I had in Darjeeling. And then the clouds came down. Or maybe they came up. In any case, 2 days of cold, cloud, very few backpackers, and a town that goes to bed at 8, became mildly depressing. I read. A lot. In fact, I've read more on this trip so far than on the whole of the last one.

Anyway, I'd had enough of being cold so headed to Kalimpong (about 800m lower), with the intention of travelling onto Bhutan.

Kalimpong was great. I was really lucky with the weather, had an amazing hotel (where Hilary & Tenzing stayed pre-Everest), & spent most of my time gazing at this view from my balcony:

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Himalayas. I've never seen anything like it. Just the name is awe-inspiring, but to see part of them in the flesh is a genuine privilege. OK, I know you want more... The peak on the right is the aforementioned Kangchendzonga.

The West Bengal hills really didn't feel like India to me. I realise I'm saying that a lot, but that's the way it is. No one place defines the feeling of India in the same way that no one place defines Europe. This (very new) country is really more like a continent. Its so big, so diverse in environment, culture, language etc, it has a larger population than Africa. I could go on. Oh yes, the hills. The Nepali/Tibetan influence is visible everywhere which, put simply (crudely) is more relaxed, more friendly, and almost hassle-free compared to most of India.

Now, according to the book, the Bhutanese powers that be had relaxed their $200/day tourist fee in the city of Phuentsholing, just across the border for Jaigon. Having decided to risk travelling through a political strike, packed my bags and bought my bus ticket, I was having lunch with an American guy when the owner of the restaurant overheard our conversation and told me Bhutan was no longer open for free, and hadn't been for a couple of years. I verified this on the interweb and narrowly avoided 12 hours of nervous buses only to be turned away at the border. So I stayed in Kalmipong for one more day, which was nice.

I was quite sad to leave the hills. But I intend to see the Himalayas again, from the other side, while I'm in India, and I was in the mood for some hot weather again. And my jeans needed a wash. Here's the best mode of transport in the hills, minus the 6 people clinging onto the back/sitting on the top:

And here's the Teesta river as seen from the road from Kalimpong to Siliguri:

Siliguri is without doubt the worst place I've been in India. All the downsides, none of the positives, but it is the major train station to/from the northeast. Still, I only had a few hours to kill. Or so I thought. Having survived 6 hours without pulling any hair out, I went to the train station, where the flashy digital bulletin boards only display information on the train that's most recently departed (along with 6 lines of scrolling "don't set fire to the train, don't cook on the train, don't push people off the train, try to stay inside the train while its moving, this board designed by BEC, Bangalore flash flash flash). I queued to ask for the platform number. Nice man said platform 3. Went to platform 3, 9.30pm, 1 hour early... At 11.30pm, I went to ask when it was expected and THE SAME MAN told me "2pm tomorrow." 15 hours late. Nevermind, I eventually found a hotel that was still open, and delayed my journey to the heartland of Buddhist and Hindu pilgrimage until the next day...

Stories from the City

2007-01-29T11:21:00.000Z

Sorry for the silence, but i'm back now...

So, where were we?
I can't leave Puri without telling you about the Sun Temple at Konark - an hour's scoot from Puri. As disused temples go (and you may have gathered that I'm not automatically enraptured by the mere concept), this one is very special. Its from the 13th century, is a shadow of its former self, and is not on a grand scale but... the design (as the chariot of the sun god Surya), the detail and the symmetry make it rather nice. Check it:

After more than a week in Puri, I was ready to face the city formerly known as Calcutta. I'd been intrigued by Kolkata since I first thought about coming to India. It was the capital of the British Raj for over 150 years, and was one of the most adversely affected places after partition, and during the war with Pakistan. Both times supermassive immigration was the main problem, leading to bursting at the seams poverty, terrible pollution, and all the rest we hear about.

Having arrived on the night train (as per usual), my first task was to book my next train. I normally do this online, thereby avoiding what most independent travellers find is one of the more frustrating Indian experiences. But online quotas for my journey were full, so I gritted my teeth and made my way up the 3 stories on a staircase which doubles as the overflow for the blocked toilets. Mmm. Several queues (and the Indian interpretation of a queue is somewhat different to mine: you stand as close as possible to the person in front and, if you feel like it, you walk to the front and involve yourself with the person who's being served, shove your form to the clerk, start shouting, your mates join in, form a scrum, and everybody's happy), and several hours later, I collapsed out of the chaos, proudly clutching my ticket, feeling fresh as a daisy and ready to face standard taxi shenanigans and finally enter Kolakata...

...Albeit at about 2 mph, through traffic the like of which I've only ever seen in Delhi: 3 lanes become 1, 1 lane becomes 2, the road surface disappears, 2 motorways merge, beggars on all sides thrust hands through the windows, a rickshaw puller (who's one step away from giving a piggy back to the 3 people he's pulling) makes a kamikaze (barefooted) dash in front of an enormous truck which brakes, flashes its (blue and green) headlights, honks its horn which plays something like "eye of the tiger" at triple speed, the 20 or more people on the top and sides hang on for dear life, the pollution is so intense that cleaner air could be smoked through a cigar, across Howrah bridge (the busiest bridge in the world by a long way) where a sea of pedestrians with all manner of objects on their heads (luggage, fruit, filing cabinets etc) flow around the taxi, my driver sings with the latest bollywood songs (half of stereo, one speaker that blew years ago but is still cranked to 11), whilst chatting to his colleagues through the medium of the horn. you get the picture.

I spent most of my time in Kolkata walking round, gazing at buildings, taking in the atmosphere, getting lost, etc. Its not a place to relax. Here's the Victoria memorial:

Its now a museum/gallery displaying Raj portraits/memorabilia/the story of Independence etc. I had, out of curiosity rather than pride, hoped to find some information/pictures of my ancestors who were involved here (my great grandfather was accountant general of Bengal, Burma and the Punjab, and his uncle was Viceroy). But alas, as per usual the museum only focuses on the start and end of the Raj, and ignores the rest. Oh well... At least there's a healthy dose of propaganda about the fantastic state Kolkata is now - everyone smiling, just happy to be here.
Back at my hotel, I pondered this while looking out of my window at the rickshaw-pullers, the 6 year old children carrying heavy loads, and the luckless naked crippled beggars.

(I hope you can appreciate my irony even through the medium of photography...)
The disparity betwixt the British areas (huge buildings, many of which are now crumbling so much that trees grow from their bricks, on wide leafy streets) and the shanty towns where their Indian subjects lived, is sobering even today. Its no wonder that great resentment grew against the Raj and that Calcuttans were central to the struggle for independence.

Anyway, I couldn't have stayed in Kolkata longer than the 2 days I spent there. The smell, the noise, the lack of space etc are exhausting. But I really like the place! I shall fill you in on my interim antics very soon.....

situation net: limbo

2007-01-24T06:34:00.000Z

Having written the most devastatingly witty and insightful post the world has ever seen, (on the slowest computers in the world), the whole town of Darjeeling lost power. This happened twice. So, I can't share my trials, tribulations, jubilations, inhalations or the story of the over-friendly elephant just yet.
Suffice to say, I'm in Kalimpong (of The Inheritance of Loss fame), trying to get to Bhutan but coming up against political strikes. I'll be able to write properly within a week. Sorry to everyone to whom I owe emails, but would you rather I shout at a computer, or look at the Himalayas?
Byefernow

We Float

2007-01-03T11:27:00.000Z

As most people seem to find, I had more of a culture shock returning to England than when I first arrived in India. How is it so organised, so clean, so goddam quiet?! Oxford St for post-xmas shopping was almost serene: no cows, no horns, people walking on pavements, giving each other space. And instead of that sweet sweet smell of sewers/diesel/rotting mountains of rubbish (all heated to perfection by the scorching sun), it was just unadulterated exhaust fumes. Where's the fun in that?

It took a week or so to feel like I was in England, and after that it was really nice to have a mid-trip break. Time to process/assimilate/get fired up for the next trip/enjoy the best of the english winter: wine, goose, washing machines, baths etc. Here's some frost for those of you who haven't left the heat:

Christmas was obviously quite sad, but the presence of Flynne - one of the world's coolest toddlers - made a big difference.

Anyway, 2 weeks was long enough. India is addictive... Hope I'm managing to convey some of the reasons in this blog, so I won't put it into a soundbyte now. I didn't give myself the best chance of a smooth return though: having put on my best drunk for a long long time on new year's, the 1st and 2nd were a washout. I managed to extract myself from the haze on the evening of the 2nd to have a quiet goodbye drink with some village people, followed by a bath, some packing and an early night. However, when Joe asked Rory and I to be best men at his wedding(s), things changed somewhat. A valiant attempt to re-enact 2 nights previous ensued & I woke up drunk & confused with a few hours to find/buy/pack all everything for India. Incapable of reading the packing list that Nye & I had complied, I had to remember everything I needed... Probably shouldn't have brought more jumpers than boxers, but apart from that all seems present.

After an uncomfortable night in the air, as we descended through cloudless sky into Mumbai, my MP3 player kindly played me Polly-Jean's "we float," which I haven't listened to in ages and made me very happy.

So, India then.

Less than 24 hours after arriving at my hotel in Mumbai (same room as when I left, adding to my confusion as to whether England had just been a dream), having helped out Stefano - an Italian guy who sat next to me on the plane, whose luggage BA had failed to bring (a great introduction to his first extra-european experience, & a bureaucratic/linguistic challenge too far), I was on a train to Orissa. yes, that was a long sentence.

It would've made more sense for me to fly into Kolkatta, but I booked my ticket in September (when I didn't know where I'd want to be), & it wasn't changeable. Besides, Mumbai-Orissa doesn't look so far on the map, so I was a bit surprised when, as we departed at 3pm on friday, the conductor told me we'd arrive some time on sunday morning! Maybe I should've looked at the railway map and realised its a convoluted route... Still, it was OK: nice people to talk to, some great scenery,

lots to read and listen to, so the daytimes went quickly. It was unfortunate, however, that Indian Railways had scheduled both the snoring world cup AND the mobile ringtone conference in my section...

So, 40 hours, 2000km and 2 hours of sleep later, I arrived in Bubaneswar - capital of Orissa. A 2 hour bus ride later (which was fun - literally bursting as always & an accident-enforced-diversion through some really interesting villages where people very rarely see buses, let alone a white arm hanging out), I arrived in Puri. Hoooooray!!!

Permit me the indulgence of a re-cap: I arrive in Puri having spent 3 of the last 4 nights in transit, the other jetlagged, having been drunk for the 3 previous days. Needless to say, I've been ill!

Puri is great. It's on the bay of Bengal, at one end is a fishing village, at the other one of the biggest temples in India which has the largest kitchen in the world: 400 cooks! In between these ends is a great backpacking area. My hotel is my favourite in India so far. The beach in Puri itself isn't great (mainly because the fishing village use it as their toilet), but a 20 min scooter ride along the coast the beaches are beautiful:

I'll be staying here a few more days - the temple at nearby Konark is reportedly incredible, and there's more fish to be eaten before I head to Kolkatta and then the cold cold mountains. For this leg of my trip, I plan not to set myself too challenging-a-list of "must see" places. I feel I travelled too quickly at times before Xmas. So, if I really like a place, as with Puri, I'll stay longer. Rocket science, huh? Also, I'm equipped with a travel geetar this time, as well as 2 french language methods and a better camera, so I have more to keep me occupied.

OK, that's enough. Byebye

Back to Bom!

2006-12-16T11:33:00.000Z

Sang the brass monkey... And I must say, Midnight's Children is one of the best books I've read in a long long time. Although, it probably helps to read it in India.

I'm writing this from the comfort of my own home, having gained a virus and lost most of my tan (in the bath)... Ah, good old blighty. It's that surreal stage of being back in body but not much else. Still...

So, I went from Mysore to Spangalore. This was actually one of the nicer Indian cities I've been to. Partly, I think, because the British legacy is positive in this case: its very spacious, wide streets, lots of greenery, relatively clean etc. Although, I didn't see much of the city and focused on the westernised area (because, in my understanding, its the unique part of bangalore), so I may not have a well-rounded impression.

Here's a picture of the roundabout at the end of one of the main arterial roads, called "Anil Kumble circle" - which is a bit like marble arch being re-named "freddy flintoff arch." Although, maybe a couple of years ago that was on the cards... NOT NOW!

(You can see the F1-inspired traffic lights, with flashing countdown, at the top of the picture... i imagine they make the commute more fun).

Whilst in Bangalore, I finally tracked down a british newspaper (1st time in India after much searching), in the British library. It was the Observer, and it was a really nice surprise to find a review of Sufjan Stevens' Xmas album, written by none other than AP Carnwath esq.
Anyway, whilst I liked Bangalore, its not a great city to be alone in: one of its highlights is the nightlife, and its not the friendliest place so i missed out somewhat.

On to Hyderabad - capital of Andra Pradesh, and one of the most disappointing places I've seen so far! Mainly because I was expecting a relaxed, hassle-free city with lots of beautiful sights and friendly people, but found pretty much the opposite! Which is fine, and when I say I had expectations, I have learned that its not wise to expect too much! Here's a highway:

Then to Aurangabad, Maharashtra, to see some caves, from which I expected a great deal... And I wasn't disappointed. There are 2 major sets of cave temples: Ellora and Ajanta.

Went to Ellora first and was blown away by this Hindu temple, cut from the hill in the 8th century! Its mind-blowing to think how they produced something so intricate and so massive by chipping away at a rock. Ellora has lots of other Hindu, a few Jain, and 12 Buddhist temples, but this was definitely the highlight.

Ajanta was very different: Only Buddhist, older than Ellora (earliest caves from 200BC), and better preserved (mainly because it was only discovered in the 19th century).

Its so well-preserved that many of the original wall-paintings are still in tact, so its easier to imagine how things would have been back in the day...

Anyway, that was great. I then took my 4th night train of the week, back to Mumbai. Last time I was here was very brief, so I was glad to see a bit more of the city this time.

Its a great city, but is probably the place I've been where the contrast between India's wealth and poverty is most starkly obvious. For example, my hotel was next to the Taj Palace (one of India's premier hotels, where a drink will cost you about 10 times as much as an average meal). Yet across the road is a brothel, and lots of women and children live on the pavement. Of course the wealthier / more touristy areas attract more beggars, but its still shocking to see such poverty on your doorstep. You become hardened to it, but sometimes a scene can be very poignant. One of the most frequently discussed topics in amongst backpackers seems to be policies on giving money to beggars. Its a bit of a minefield and I really can't be bothered to rant about it now, but I reserve the right to do so!

So, that was India. Its nice to have a break, but I'm really looking forward to going back (3rd of Jan)!
Happy Xmas, here's a Bombay sunset:

My Sore Arm

2006-12-05T12:38:00.000Z

Things didn't quite go according to plan... which is no bad thing necessarily (see detour on route map).

Despite standard bus station shenanigans - every (official) person giving completely different information about bus timings, which bus stop, journey length etc - I somehow managed to get on the right bus to Karaikal, which took 2 hours longer than the longest estimate!
On arriving, I 'phoned the tsunami-relief organistion (as arranged), but their 'phone wasn't working. No biggie, its late, find a hotel, go to a canteen, chat with some locals, get a lift home on the back of a motorbike, crash, lose a load of skin, and put manual labour (was going to help build a school) completely out of the question. So. Didn't do my bit for mankind. A picture (totally out of sequence):

I decided to make my way to a city with a major train station, as long distance buses were sapping my will to travel. Of course, I had to take one last bus to reach Trichy (aforementioned city), which was absurdly over-crowded and involved having my freshly-skinned toes trodden on repeatedly for 5 hours by a very large lady.

I really liked Trichy though: a fairly typical Tamil Nadu city, meaning lots of culture, very few (western) tourists (so no scams/hassles, but enough that I wasn't constantly an object of curiosity... except for my bandaging), good value, mahousive mosquitos etc. Here's a temple on a big rock:

But, of course, whilst physically impaired I couldn't miss the opportunity to get ill. It never rains... Still, no bad thing to be forced to stay in my room & recover my sense of reason, not to mention my body, whilst the Ashes were on TV. Oh yes, and when you're in such a state, the middle of the night is a great time to be visited by the mother of all flying cockroaches who, with her lazer-beam eyes I'm sure, managed to collapse my mosquito net on me. An epic, and possibly somewhat comical battle ensued... and eventually I won!

I left Trichy, & Tamil Nadu, after a few days & made my way to Mysore in Karnataka. The train was very interesting, and showed me a side of India that I hadn't seen so far. It was the fastest sunday night train from the south to Bangalore and, as such, lots of city workers who've been home for the weekend catch it (Bangalore is the centre of India's silicone valley). Everyone speaking in English, most of it technical, over-my-head, but standard office-type stuff, all wearing western clothes, playing with snazzy gadgets etc. The people I spoke to were interesting, articulate, intelligent etc, but I couldn't help feeling that if this is the future of India (from a global perspective), and these are the people who are turning the country into an economic super-power, its sad that it seems to be happening at the expense of Indian culture. I'm going to Bangalore tomorrow, so may be in a better position to comment, but first impressions are intriguing...

Mysore is a firm fixture on the tourist trail, & made me appreciate Tamil Nadu even more! The maharajah's palace here is pretty special, and the place does have a nice feel, but its hard to keep perspective when suddenly thrust back into a world where every other person earns their living from tourism, & more than a handful have no qualms about ripping you off. I have been angry. But its all good.

Feeling slightly worn out. I guess I've been moving quite fast for a while, and I am nearing the end of this part of my trip, so its not surprising. Its not that travelling in India, at least the parts I've visited so far, is very challenging, its just... never mind.

South Pole. turn around

2006-11-29T11:18:00.000Z

From Kochi, went south to Kollam, Stayed in an enormous government guesthouse which is ridiculously cheap, extremely inefficient, and where we were the only guests:

Kollam is one of the access points for the Keralan backwaters. Visiting the backwaters, and particularly staying on a houseboat, is touted as one of the best things you can do in India, so we did (we being Josephine, Simon, Olivier - all parisians, et moi). Here's our boat:

It was beautiful - reminded me of the florida everglades - palm trees lining endless waterways, eagles, kingfishers, kids running along the river bank shouting "one school pen" at the tops of their voices, great food, swimming in "lagoons," waking up to sunrise on the water etc.

It was a great thing to do, and nice not to have to "do" anything to see so much.

From Kollam it was a short hop down the track to Varkala, which lots of people had told me is their favourite Indian beach... Actually, there isn't much of a beach but what there is is pretty amazing: the sand is black and the waves are pretty good (compared to goa). So, did some (body)surfing.. Varkala is very relaxed, but extremely touristy, and as it becomes more popular, it expands very quickly so is a bit of a building site.

There's a lot of rain in south India at the moment - nobody seems to know if this is the end of the monsoon or the start of the 2nd monsoon which sometimes happens. Anyway, there were some phenomenal storms which I watched from a bamboo shack on a cliff over cocktails.

All my french friends and 2 aussies we'd met in Jaipur (and bumped into in Kochi) left Varkala on the same day, in different directions, but I stayed on to meet a couple of friends from Arambol. Both clinical psychologists, both northern, both alcoholics, both into s**t music (I actually listened to a conversation about the relative brilliance of messers blunt and powter), but both lots of fun (and it was nice to speak english quickly again!)

So, I left Varkala alone which was actually really nice - exciting to have no idea if you'll see anyone you know for the rest of the trip, and to be able to travel at my own pace (having spent longer than anticipated on the west coast) - and headed south to Kanyakumari, the Land's End of India (where the Indian ocean, Bay of Bengal and Arabian Sea meet), in Tamil Nadu. I only went there for its location, so wasn't too bothered to find that, like Land's End itself, its a bit of a themepark. More sea-shells-with-your-name-written-on stalls than I could count. There were some nice bits of town, but it is a tourist hotspot (Indian tourists, that is).

Having gone as far south as possible, I had little choice but to turn around! I had a great time on the east coast, but it was nice to leave as most of the places I went are tourist-focused - i.e. its hard to have a conversation with an Indian which doesn't end in a sales pitch, which is fairly irritating after a while. Its nice not to have your guard up all the time, as when you do meet someone who just wants to talk, you're naturally cautious. Anyway, I headed inland to Madurai, a large city famous for the Sri Meenakshi temple:

I'm really pleased I saw this temple as, until this point I hadn't been overly impressed by the temples I'd seen. But to see a massive, living, breathing Hindu temple in all its colours, with all its pilgrims' colours, was quite amazing. I'm pretty sure it designed by Matt Groening, or possibly Rolf Harris though...

Madurai itself is a fairly gritty Indian city. Lots and lots of beggars, not so many western tourists, thousands of rickshaw drivers (none of them with any customers as everything is within walking distance), tailors, electrical shops etc. Despite an attempted mugging by an old woman, I found Madurai really friendly and would like to have stayed longer, but I'd already booked my train...

And unfortunately the only seat left on the train to Pondicherry was in first class. There are about 6 classes on Indian trains and the 3rd/4th are absolutely fine, but its worth seeing how the upper crust do it. It reminded me of the carriages in the fims about the Orient Express, or maybe I'm confused. The most comfortable bed I've had in India, AC, 1:1 staff:passengers etc. Unfortunately the train left at midnight and arrived at 530am, so I didn't make the most of it.

Had one of my most embarassing moments in India shortly after getting off the train, sleep-deprived, onto a packed local bus where every sleepy-eyed Indian was already staring at me when I saw 3 brothers taking their morning shit by the side of the road (as most Indians do at that time of day). The smallest boy did the biggest, and the smugness on his face made me laugh for about 10 minutes... Mature, I know, but I was tired.

So, I'm in Pondicherry, on the south-east coast. This was a french colony and the french influence is everywhere. Apart from the language, there are wide tree-lined boulevards, proper coffee, steak roquefort, and not many tourists - I imagine because the lonely bastard bangs on about the ashrams and cult here... I'm not well-informed enough to explain their beliefs, but its citizens-of-the-world, no nationalities, building a better future etc. Near to Pondy is Auroville, a purpose-built "city" for this community, which is very strange. Most of what I saw was very serious, treat-our-founders-like-gods-and-buy-their-books-while-we-meditate-over-their-graves stuff. Needless to say, I'm more taken by the french side!

I'm going south to a tsunami-relief project for a week, and then I'll only have 10 days til I fly back for Xmas. Can't believe how quickly this is going, or how badly I'm writing this! byebye.......................

maps (and nothing remotely indian)

2006-11-27T11:34:00.000Z

thanks to ed for saving me from a technological brick wall and letting me have a route map on the page. it doesn't have all the names of the places i've been, but there are a lot of places in India.
the reason for the brick wall is also the reason you can't enlarge the photos anymore, and why the text looks weird - blogger are upgrading. its all free, so can't complain. well, maybe.
ANYWAY
no, the title of the last post was not designed to reference a counting crows album.
i have lots to write but it'll have to wait as the computer i'm using doesn't have usb or a cd drive(!) so no pics. soon soon...

Gokarna and everything after

2006-11-17T14:31:00.000Z

scene: I have 2 hours until the internet closes for the night, my next date with "broadband" is probably distant, I've just had to drink a few to wake myself up after one of the more relaxing experiences I've had (naked, covered in oil, being rubbed all over by 2 hairy indian men simultaneously), 2 feet behind me a live bangra band is playing "you are my sunshine." I am dazed and i am confused, this may not make much sense.

So, my last day in Hampi was significant for a terrifying experience involving a "14-year-old" "boy" and a razor blade. This kid was not my first choice for my first ever cut-throat shave, but his dad said he was fine so what could i do? He was fine, but he must've been 12 and he wore red nail varnish. Because of the festival in Hampi, all trains were over-booked back to the coast, so i had no choice but to take the overnight bus. Fortunately I had company - Josephine, a parisian food designer with whom I'm still travelling - but i have vowed to avoid night time buses from now on. My "bed" was a plank that must've been 1' wide, 5' long, the "bus" had no windscreen or suspension, and the "road" was possibly entirely imaginary. Most of the night was spent in mid-air, trying to make sure i landed on my target when i finally crashed back to gravity. Still, somehow we made it to Gokarna...

This is one of the most important places for Hindus, spiritually. Its on the Arabian see, just south of Goa, and is an incredible place. There are several gorgeous beaches to the south (Gokarna beach itself is covered in litter) which I think are just as nice as Goa, and the town itself has the nicest feel I've experienced in India so far. Foreigners (there aren't many, relatively) aren't allowed in the temples which is a shame as they're in use and would have been interesting, but its symptomatic of (part of) what makes the town so special: its really not there for tourists. There's a real spiritual tranquility in the air and I very much hope to go back there at some point.

Spent a few days in Gokarna, then headed down the coast to Kerala. Kerala is a small state in the south-west corner of India and is often trumpeted as the country's most advanced state in terms of literacy, poverty, infant mortality, child labour etc. It also seems to continue the trend of travelling becoming easier the further south I get. In general, its extremely friendly. On the tourist trail (such as Kochi, where I am now), there's a lot of hassle (it is mildly irritating to be asked the same leading question / told the same joke about rickshaws and ferraris 5 times within the first minute of leaving the hotel), but its definitely not aggressive. Went to a Theyyam (seemingly pre-Hindu religious ritual) in Kannur, northern Kerala, which was confusing - I feel a bit cynical about important religious events being held right next to a bus stop on a busy road, especially when westerners are being charged, but actually there were lots and lots of locals taking it very seriously, making it really interesting for me. Good drumming too.

Its nice to be travelling with someone else for a while, especially when not on the beaten track. Josephine & I next headed to a wildlife sanctuary in eastern Kerala to try and see elephants, tigers, wooly mammouths etc. Nice to be the only westerners in the city, to have some linguistic challenges, and very very spicy food, but really very little wildlife.

Another day, another bus, this time to Ooty. The most famous south-Indian hill station (2250m up I think), where the british top-brass relocated in the summer when Madras became too hot. Strange place. Incredible scenery, nice to have some cold weather, but strange place. Here's an illegal picture of the ballroom in the maharajah's palace: The highlight of Ooty was riding a horse through a cloud and emerging to a landscape of Eucalyptus forests / sweeping hills of tea plantations... This was amazing. Hard to take a good photo from a big moody horse when you can't ride a horse though:

And when you ride a horse for 3 hours, having not ridden for at least 15 years, its advisable not to commit yourself to sitting down for the next 6 hours... We took the minature railway out of Ooty in an effort to get back to the coast, but didn't get very far before a landslide halted our progress. Fortunately we met 3 french guys on the train and shared a taxi for the last 4 hours of the journey. Nice to be able to get out of jail free, but its not moral backpacking! Still, I probably speak better french than ever now...

Here's some fishing in Kochi, capital of Kerala, where I am now.

Its nice to be in "civilisation" again, but I look forward to leaving tomorrow. Its easy to spend more on a meal than most Indians earn in a week. Seriously, in fact while I'm on the subject I should share my naive horror at finding out (in Gokarna) that the average waiter works 17 hours per day, 7 days per week, for 2000 rupees per month. Its misleading to think of it in pounds but it works out at about 5 pence per hour. And that's a good job - the alternative for many is back-breaking field work for half the money. There are many shocking facts very close to the surface here that I won't try to do justice to in this state, and time is running out...

Off to the Keralan backwaters tomorrow.

In an interstellar burst...

2006-11-16T10:32:00.000Z

...I'm back to make you all jealous.

So, lots to say since Goa.

Break it down. Ok.

Hampi then (in Karnataka - I'll try to get a map up soon)

Having narrowly avoided the biggest club in Goa the night before I left Arambol, a 4am taxi was just what I needed. Still, the train journey was stunning - winding up lush mountains (the western ghats), under waterfalls (bad photo above), and my mp3 player helpfully kept playing me epic Sigur Ros and Mogwai tracks. Its really exciting picking up all your stuff and going into the unknown and, after all that happened in Goa, Everything was Ecstatic...

Hampi is bewildering. 2 things you need to know: temples and boulders. Ok, 3 things: monkeys. I won't go on about the temples as, frankly, there are far too many of them and I found most of them really quite oppressive. Controversy. Not all of them. Its just that the architecture is very linear, low ceilings, little light, no colour etc. Not all of them. I do imagine, however, that back in the day (400 years ago I think) they were vibrant and colourful. Nye, I'm sorry... Still, here's me being blessed by Lakshmi.

The boulders, on the other hand, I love. I've never seen anything like it (except perhaps the Olgas in Oz, but Hampi goes on for miles and miles). They form the most bizzare, precarious arrangements - strewn across the river, stacked into mountains. I think they're formed by some kind of plate-squeezing-cold-volcano process, but i might be wrong. Anyway, they're fascinating.

My first couple of days were hectic, dutifully marching between temples, climbing up hills for amazing views, being surprised to find myself sitting next to Emma...

(actually this is Ally, my ozdrawlian trekking buddy, and i mainly put this photo in to draw attention to the fact that Ally is a good name for a girl). Shut up rich. OK.

Anyway, after running round for 2 days, Hampi hypnotised me. It does that. I spent a phenomenal amount of time at the nicest cafe in India (so far): the Mango Tree

So, I stayed in Hampi longer than "planned" partly due to the trance i was in, but mainly because there was a massive festival coming up. One morning I climbed up a hill at 8am and when I came down again, Hampi had been transformed from sleepy temple town to the annual gathering of the entire Karnatakan police force. There were thousands of them. And (apparently) they're the most corrupt in India. Every hotel in town had to give them 5 rooms, every restaurant had to feed them for free, etc. But by the second day of the festival, there were almost as many cilivilians as police, so it wasn't so scary. The festival was free (state-sponsored), and was a strange mix of incredibly good Indian music (the Tabla is one of the best instruments in existence) and village-talent-contest standard dancing. Interesting to see some Indian dance, but even I could tell this was awful and could probably have done better myself. Or not. And perhaps even stranger than the 1940s brass band intro, the monotone presentations of awards to every participant, and the fact that the sound-man didn't bother to delay the speakers further from the stage (so everything had 3 fast echos), was the crowd reaction to performers. My theory on Indian crowds (as put forward in my post about the cricket in Jaipur) has suffered a blow as, even when the act was incredible, it was met with muted, impolite applause! I really couldn't believe it. Here was an excuse to holler and cheer together being completely missed. Strange. Still, if there's one thing I'm learning, its that you really can't stereotype India, or Indians.

Ok ok, here's a temple.

The Vittala temple is "the undisputed highlight of the Hampi ruins" (according to the lonely bastard). I dispute this, but who am I?

I'm tired so lets have some Hampi animals:

Hampi was almost 2 weeks ago now. Hopefully I'll get some more done soon. And hopefully my blergh hosts will stop doing strange things with my blog. byee.....

transmission impossible

2006-11-07T05:46:00.000Z

So, the further you get from big cities, the slower and more expensive the internet becomes. The prospect of uploading photos is unbareable, so I won't. And what's a blog without perty pictures?

Suffice to say, I'm in Gokarna which is an amazing place. Just south of Goa on the coast, a spiritual centre for Hindus, great beaches and "something in the air" (? - hard to describe). Been in Hampi for a week which is also amazing, but I'll wait til I get to a city - probably in a week or so - to do this properly...

road trip...

2006-10-26T09:18:00.000+01:00

On my 2nd day in Arambol I met Jamie, author of a fine travel blog (currently not working), thru which I'd found the details of the guesthouse following Dan's reccommendation (thanks for that!). He & I concocted a plan to drive the length of Goa to Palolem, the iconic picture-postcard beach of Goa.

So, Sunday morning, 7am, possibly still pissed, having learned to ride a scooter the day before, set out on a 60 mile journey down the national highway... (sorry mum). As it turns out, Sunday is a very good day to do this as there's (relatively) little traffic & (relatively) few police (who have a habit of stopping you & extorting money from you basically for being white). This was a lot of fun - wind in hair, insects in face, lush & varied countryside

from everglade-like marshlands, to coconut groves, past waterfalls, into the western ghats (range of hills), speeding straight into a group of policemen out to earn some extra cash on their day off...

Whistle blows. We pull over.
"Show me your driving license"
(produce license)
"Show me your international driving license"
"...err... don't think I've got it with me..."
"Where is it?"
"At the hotel... Sorry?"
(Silence. Glare)
"Is there a fine I can pay" (thanks for that line Nye!)
(Smiles, marches us over to van)
"No driving license: 3000 rupees each"
(Pause. Pushing money belt, containing 10,000, further down trousers)
"I'm very sorry but I don't have anything like that amount on me"
(Show them wallet in which I'd put 200 rupees earlier for this scenario)
(Disappointment. Dejection. Talks to mate in Hindi, mate laughs)
"You can't pay fine, what shall I do?"
(Silence. Head wobble. Exasperated sigh)
"OK, you pay 100 rupees each, you need to buy food"
(Try to contain look of elation at lack of search or police station. Gratitude, shake hands(!), avoid temptation to take photo, drive off)

Arriving in Palolem was like entering paradise. A cove, about 1 mile across, white sand, rimmed by palm trees, island at one tip, waves but no rip, almost too perfect... Well, a few too many beach huts & tourists but otherwise...

Spent a couple of days there, possibly the most relaxing experience I've ever had. A scramble south round a couple of headlands leads to Patnem, which is very nearly as beautiful but with very few people because the authorities recently bulldozed all the buildings owing to a technicality! Further still is Raglam, where I spent an afternoon alone, with about 2 miles of amazing beach, 3 dogs, a couple of eagles and my mp3 player for company. Bliss.

Having resolved to avoid national highways and major towns for fear of the po-lis, I set off north on an epic tour of goa. Not the wisest move when you have a very out-of-date map which is probably some hippy's impression from memory, and there are no roadsigns at all. Approximately 1 in 4 of the people I asked for directions actually knew the way to the village next to theirs. So i went round in circles, found a 300-year-old portugese landowner's mansion where i was shown round by a man who was practically comatose and wanted me to change his prescriptions! Here's an old piano:

I had intended to make my way back to the coast, find a nice beach and get a room. However, I hadn't quite appreciated why Goa has the reputation it does amongst more discerning travellers. Until then, I'd met more holiday makers and ex-pats than backpackers, but it had been pleasant enough. But it turns out that most of central goa's beaches are quite like the costa del sol. The sun was going down, I couldn't find a nice beach anywhere, so kept on heading north, having to use the national highway - tailgating big trucks through police checks seems to work quite nicely! After about 8 hours on the scooter I had to stop, and unfortunately I was in Calangute, one of the aforementioned horrible beaches. It is terrible, overpriced, and I woke up to a room full of cockroaches. There's a massive flea-market nearby in Anjuna though:

Anyway, I'm currently staying in my train-friend Vinay's 2-bed, 2-bath, 3-balcony flat, by myself, for free! So things could be worse. Off to Hampi on Sunday. I've really enjoyed Goa. It'd be a great place to come on holiday, and if you do, rent a scooter: mine cost me 12 pounds for the week and 200 miles has cost about 6 pounds in fuel! I'm looking forward to leaving Goa and getting back to India now. I'll leave you with a Palolem sunset...

going going goan

2006-10-20T15:18:00.000+01:00

Mumbai was a blur. Because of touts booking all train tickets to Goa in season (starting over the next few weeks), the only train I could take left early in the morning on the day after we arrived. So our tour of India's poshest hotels was cut short prematurely and i was whisked away from Will and Jonny, in their newly tailored suits, with barely a chance to say tata... Despite the overwhelming sarcasm of my last post, this was actually quite sad!

So the train was fun. Having woken up at 530, it was "rescheduled" by 3 hours, then lost a further 2 hours en route. So I arrived in Goa at half past midnight. But I did meet a very interesting septogenarian Goan called Vinay and a mid-twenties Keralan naval officer named Razzaq. They bought me Chai, we swapped stories, I learned a lot. It was nice.

It struck me that all my time in India up until then had been spent in cities, and even in England 2 weeks away from the countryside is about my limit.

So it was great to see lush lush lush foliage (eg Banyan tree above), wildlife (all sorts of amphibian/reptile life asleep in the roads at night etc), and also Goan people are incredibly friendly, on the whole. I've been staying in "God's Gift Guesthouse" (I don't think they're trying to be ostentatious), and speaking of friendly Indians, the hosts Costam and Ruby are 2 of the nicest people ever. Costam, despite being woken up by my taxi driver in the middle of the night, and not noticing the cockroach sauntering across his pants, didn't stop grinning as he showed me round 3 (identical) rooms. He drove me into Arambol (just along the beach), ran about half a mile to give me his flip-flops when he saw me sprinting between shadows to minimise the smoke smouldering from my feet, i could go on. here's the aforementioned Arambol, north Goa:

Life in Goa is pretty tough. At least twice a day I'm faced with impossible dilemmas such as: Shall I go for a swim in the Arabian sea, which is warmer than many baths I've had, or shall I go for a ride on Barley, my scooter, around some of the most beautiful countryside I've ever seen?

This is all well and good for now, but I'm not very good at being a beach bum. It feels like holiday (a very very good holiday), but not travelling. I think I'll zip down Goa over the next week or so and then head off... Still, I really would recommend it

oh yes, Happy Diwali! I didn't time it so well - Goa is probably the least interesting place in India to celebrate a Hindu festival. Lots of colourful decorations though, Indians throwing fireworks... don't think they've got those adverts here... and lots of westerners sipping cocktails over chilled-out trance. hmmm. Nice sunset though...

all things go, all things go

2006-10-17T10:10:00.000+01:00

Just arrived in Mumbai - that's Bombay - following an 18-hour train journey from Jaipur, which is a bit cooler than here. The time flew on the train... after Will had described his ultimate sandwich and I my ultimate risotto we only had about 2 hours left.
So, Delhi was hot. Jonny and Will arrived there a week ago and dampened my jubilant mood with their incessant cynicism and misery-mongering. We left the next day in the hope that i might lose at least one of them on the way to Agra, which is hotter than Delhi. Now, Agra is famous (in my experience) for 2 things: firstly a 1-month-old german shepherd called Tom:

Of course Will, ever the adventurous glutton, despite my reasoning that he'd be a bit stringy, tried to buy him from the hotel owner (who'd bought him for Rs5000 that day). When that failed, Will sat on Tom. Not nice. It was becoming a bit like a roadrunner cartoon until Will finally had his 4th lunch and fell asleep...

The second memory of note in Agra is this rather elaborate grave stone:

No photograph could ever do justice to this place. It is unbelievable. Probably about 3 times bigger than i thought - click on the above photo and see how big the people standing next to it are... I cannot describe how evocative it is to see something quite so perfect. Undoubtedly the most amazing man-made structure I've ever seen. In fact, what the heck, here it is again:

Next time I'm in Agra (which was the capital until Shah Jahan moved it to Delhi) I'll have a look at the fort and a few other things but alas there wasn't time on this occasion.

So, we made our way to Jaipur, capital of Rajasthan, that afternoon. Its pink, dusty, hotter than Agra, camels aplenty, and was the scene of much bathroom disaster. I think we were complacent in Agra - its probably best not to eat in a restaurant with rats running round, or to eat cold "samosas" on the train after they've been walked up and down in the heat by a grubby man for 4 hours. In addition to the gut gymnastics we all partook in, I also sustained a screaming fever - my upgrade was most likely due to the sour iced coffee I drank in Agra. So, didn't see a lot of Jaipur, and it was fairly fortunate timing that we didn't need to go anywhere for a few days.

Now, the reason I am currently cursed with such terrible company is that, a couple of weeks ago, Will and I got drunk and (apparently) I persuaded him to come to India for 10 days on the promise that we'd go to see India play England in the ICC Championships. So, risking very real catastrophic potential, we went. The cheap seats had sold out so we paid Rs1500 for ours. We imagined this would take us to some kind of air-conditioned box with a private bar, butler service and (most importantly) nice toilets very close indeed. However... the extra money we paid was for the privilege of having a seat rather than a step. Except these were unfixed patio seats, on flat ground, behind several fences, sets of scaffolding and about 1000 other seats... all sharing 2 squat-toliets. So, we got involved. We moved our seats quite near to the front, as did everyone else, and an enormous game of musical chairs ensued. Except that instead of running around chairs the aim, apparently, was to steal as many as you could, to make as large a stack as possible, then to stand on the arms of the top chairs, and occasionally fall off. And instead of music, there were policemen with big sticks who occasionally stopped watching the match and made everyone sit down on just one chair. Fun was had. I couldn't take my camera into the ground, but lets break this up with a picture anyway:

So, the cricket crowd was a bit like a massive school trip with lots of sugar and no teachers. The most important thing was that everyone get wildly over-excited together, & not necessarily about the cricket. Sometimes the trigger for the us all to jump to our chairs and cheer at the top of our voices was completely understandable - a Tendulkar mis-field, or a fielder turning to vaguely look in our direction, for example - and sometimes (for example during the first ball of the Indian innings) the stimulus would be that a TV camera on a building behind us had vaguely pointed at us, and EVERYBODY would turn round, go crazy and put on our best Bollywood grins. It was fascinating, and I mean that (despite the 40 degree heat, cold sweats, pounding headache and ominous rumbles). It seemed that the joy of the crowd was not due to the cricket but to the excitement of the crowd itself.

One of the most rewarding aspects of this week has been seeing Indian people interacting with each other, without taking any notice of me. During the mid-session interval at the cricket, and on the train journeys, I've felt really privileged to see such beaming warmth and empathy displayed between friends. Its not something I've seen in the west, and is really very special.

So, Will & Jonny leave in a couple of days and I'll then head south, probably to a beach in Goa, which is hotter than Mumbai, for a week or so (I'd much rather be at work in sunny london, but needs must...). I'm really excited about this trip now, and having had less than 2 weeks so far, 6 months seems like a very long time.

(ps, sorry, i seem to have lost the ability to use commas. but, at, least i,m responding to popular demand and using a few capital letters now,)

First impressions... SSHAAZZAAMM!!

2006-10-07T14:03:00.000+01:00

scene. delhi is pretty goddam hectic. not actually as difficult to adjust to as i had expected - i've had a lot of ghanaian de ja vu. obviously incredibly different cultures etc but at this very early stage its the environmental differences from home that are more thrust upon me than cultural ones: its hot, there's that sweet smell of sewage/petrol everywhere, litter & animals in the street,

flies buzzing round their heads, vultures circling the dead

(or at least huge numbers of hawks chasing soon-to-be-dead pigeons), horns a plenty, seemingly no traffic laws, and people people people everywhere doing something i'm sure. so i'm not really that displaced. it's definitely more full-on than west africa but i'm older (7 years!), wiser (well...), street-wise (landan innit), more cynical (possibly), and whatever, than i was.

i'm having a quiet day today, partly as it needs to be cheap, and partly because i don't want to stray too far from my hotel... last night the contortionists in my digestive tract finally put on the show they'd been promising all day. looks like it was a one-night-only performance, thank god, but i'm not taking any risks! the experience was made all the more magical for the gremlins who'd somehow removed my bathroom light and replaced my main light with a very slow strobe, having blown the bulb in my trusty torch the night before. so, by the light of a mobile 'phone screen...

here are some things i've done: arrived on friday morning, very tired - didn't sleep on plane, not good - went to new delhi which is fairly uninspiring, planned, impressive buildings etc. but old delhi is unplanned, chaotic, nuts. really enjoyed it. here's the red fort:

its from the Mughal reign (17th century), built by Shah Jahan (of Taj Mahal fame), with a nice mix of crumbling red sandstone buildings and intricate marble-inlayed courts. history on a plate, very relaxing after coming through old delhi.

here's the largest mosque in india

where i burned my naked feet on the searing stone.

old delhi was incredible but possibly a bit much for my 2nd day in india. The bazzars are so easy to get lost and overwhelmed in - they look a bit like this:

but i stuck it out for an hour or so before retreating onto a cycle rickshaw. this was not quite the relaxation aid I was looking for though & after 45 minutes of hair-raising manouvers through bursting streets that were bumpy as hell, across major 6-lane intersections with buses bareing down, I was exhausted... imagine how he felt:

meet Faroz. i like to think i paid him well for an amazing ride but, actually, he ripped me off. nye's advice to treat 100 rupees as if it were 10 pounds seems about right (its actually about 1 pound 25p) but is easier said than done, at least to start with. it's amazing how quickly you adjust - i was probably hassled 3 times as much on my first day as i was today. and i'm getting used to having cobras shoved in my face when i've just avoided being run over too.

here's Paharganj, where i'm staying:

its pretty seedy, but is the only place i've met fellow backpackers.

to be honest, i'd probably have left delhi after a couple of days if it weren't for the imminent arrival of the bartlett-domino roadshow. i'm pleased i didn't though... yesterday, having had 2 very full-on days, i was really glad to meet Henning - a thoughtful , easy-going dutch carpenter with considerable indian experience. having established the importance of not being constantly on the go, we decided to take it easy and went for a stroll off the lonely planet map (!) north of paharganj to an area henning had found the day before. we quickly got lost and found oursleves far away from the main roads in a maze of pastel-coloured houses (no 2 the same), doors open to small rooms where entire families live, streets of laundry, men playing cards & being shaved, exquisite tiny crumbling temples, you get the picture. it was nice to see indians doing their thing, fairly oblivious to us (or at least looking with curiosity rather than dollar-signs in their eyes). became involved in a street cricket match which was great fun, and the whole experience was quite a privilege. not without its sobering sides though - whilst most people seemed quite content, there were several people clearly in need of medical treatment and the sight of horses tethered in the sun without water and cows eating rubbish, slowly dying, is not so easy. i didn't take my camera, which was probably a good thing. after a while it became a bit intense as we entered an area where all the kids seemed to be, at first only a few plucked said hello, but then all their friends joined in, then all theirs, it all escalated and we had to get out! felt quite shell-shocked for a while, but it seemed like my first real experience of india. which is nice.

so, its all good. it feels like parts of me that have been in hibernation for a long cold winter are waking up to some serious sensory overload...

on the subject of... healthcare

2006-09-27T17:12:00.001+01:00

here's a picture of me with the first person i helped to stop smoking:

so i left my job last week, all of a sudden (my decision!), and its got me thinking. a lot has happened in the year since i started working there... we released circlesend, i got into medical school, dad died, pippa & i split up... and its really hit home how much of a difference having a job you enjoy can make to your life. i did enjoy my previous job (working with aduls with learning disabilities) but found it very limited. the job i've just left (HCA for a large GP partnership in Southwark), whilst i wouldn't want to do it forever, has really affirmed my commitment to becoming a doctor. i also think that having worked on the lowest rung of the clinical ladder will ultimately make me a better doctor. i feel fortunate to know what i want to do with my life when so many people i know really don't.

working with people is so rewarding, especially when you can make a difference to them (albeit a small difference in my case). it also puts my own woes into perspective and makes me realise how lucky i am. i guess i'm actually slightly apprehensive about not working with people for a while, as it'll give my head a good chance to lose perspective and that might not be good...

ripping

2006-09-26T16:11:00.000+01:00

despite my mum's perfectly valid comment that they have indian music in india, what better way to spend several of my last few days in england than in the tedium of ripping my entire cd collection. again. oh well, only a couple of miles of cd cases to go. having to resist the nagging voice asking if i really need 7 Yo La Tengo CDs. yes, in fact i do.

anyway, why am i telling you this? firstly, there is no "you" and its therefore better to talk to myself over the internet than out loud (conversations take longer this way too). secondly, if i turn round i have to face the prospect of packing a flat's worth of stuff into a bedroom with cupboards that are already bulging. so, here we are... its also healthy to realise just how much music i buy and never get round to listening to properly. i'm actually looking forward to hearing lots of it.

and whilst we're on the subject, here's a tent in pembrokeshire

setup and book

2006-09-16T17:06:00.000+01:00

hi,
so i'm going to india. booked my tickets today, and the plan is to fly to delhi on the 5th of october, come back to engalnd for xmas, from bombay, then go back until the 28th of march when i'll fly home from delhi.
i figured a blog would be a good way of letting people at home know what i'm up to without constantly bombarding them with emails, and all the cool kids have blogs now so i thought i'd join the party. actually, i do already have a blog for my band, but i've only used that once to post some lyrics and stop people pestering me for them...

i only recently decided to go to india, having ummed and erred about it for a while. but it gradually became clear to me that i'd be very silly not to go away - being homeless, having a place at med school next year which will chain me to london for at least 6 years (please note: i love london), having a job that i really like but has served its purpose for me, and having a whole load of shit to process from the last 6 months of my life - and frankly india seemed the obvious destination. not that i feel i need to find myself or anything, just that it seems like a good place to ruminate, see new things, get very ill, live cheaply, find myself... no, wait.

i feel bad about leaving my family - i'm sure if you're reading this you'll know me and know that my dad died very suddenly in march - but i really think its time to put myself first for a bit, and i know i'll regret it if i don't. i also feel slightly bad about leaving the country when undertheigloo had been planning to record our 2nd album. but that can wait, and it'll probably be a lot better if we don't rush into it - i think we've got a lot of good songs ready to record, but i don't feel i've written good enough lyrics for them yet, especially given the wealth of subject matter rushing through my head at the moment. and i'm sure the record will benefit from some sitars...

anyway, this is supposed to be about india.