Hello Kerala, We're a Party of 3!

Ok, not three quite yet in blogtime.

After the rough overnight train journey, we arrived at Ernakulam Junction station at 10:30am. Hauled our luggage into the trunk of a white Ambassador taxi and rode to Maple Regency, checking into a decent but hot and sticky room. Had a much needed shower (I mention showers a lot because they are often the most satisfying part of our days!), and then happily plopped down on the bed with the fan on max, and watched some TV. We were pretty exhausted and doing nothing was just what we needed. Managed to drag ourselves out to lunch to a great spot we went back to 2 more times. Discovered a Keralan specialty bread: appam - must learn how to make it. Inquired about the tea plantations in the hills of Munnar on our way back to our room, an outing we had really been looking forward to. But we didn't know it was so far: 5hr bus ride each way, and we wanted to do the trip in one day (had no choice since we were meeting Jim two mornings later). After spending so much time on transportation, we decided to forget Munnar. Back to our room for more TV lounging, then emerged again only for dinner, and came right back to the telly afterwards. (Ok, so we spent a lot of time loafing in from of the tube that day, but we really did need some rest.)

Next day, instead of seeing the lush green tea hills of Munnar, we went for a field trip to... the mall! Sounds as bad as watching TV all day, but again, it was needed. Weather is still unbearably hot and humid down here, and all we want to do is be in air-conditioning. What better place to get it for hours than a slick, western-style mall. Got a tuk-tuk there, 7 km north of downtown, and loved the cold that greeted us. Checked the ticket counter for Bollywood movie times, booked one for 4pm, so had 2 hours to stroll around. Bought some jewelry, jubejubes (for the movie), and books. Yes, more books. Movie was called Agent Vinod, another pretty tacky bollywood number, so loud I thought my eardrums would pop, but overall, better than I expected it to be. We managed to follow the general plotline with the Hinglish they spoke (80% Hindi, 20% English). Got a ride back to town and went to the guidebook-recommended Grand Pavillion Restaurant in the Grand Hotel along Mahatma Gandhi Road for our last dinner just the two of us, sniff-sniff (meeting Jim the next morning). Dined in style, then back to our room for a little more TV before bed.

Jim had e-mailed us the name of the hotel we were staying at the first two nights, and told us to meet him in the lobby at 10am (he was flying in from Salt Lake City). We googled it (www.bolgattypalacekochi.com) and when I saw the photos of the palace suites on the main page, I thought, Wow, I wonder what our rooms will look like. Lo and behold, when Jim leads us to our room, it's a palace suite. Blaire and I have one to ourselves, and Jim has another. Our rooms didn't even have numbers, they had names. Blaire and I were in Vermeer, and Jim was in Van Dyck. We knew he liked to spoil his daughter and niece, but this was living like royalty! Wait till you see photos of our room. And a few steps from our palatial veranda was the beautiful palace pool. (Though, like the ocean water in Goa, it was not at all refreshing. They need water coolers rather than water heaters down here!)  Jim napped a bit after we all had a nice breakfast together at the palace buffet while starting our catching up. Lounged by the pool, relaxed in our room (well, palatial home with 5 rooms), then all went back to the Pavilion Restaurant for dinner where Blaire and I ate the night before. Back to our palace suite for TV and bed.

After another Bolgatty breakfast buffet, we got a ride to the boat jetty, where a 5 cent ferry took us across the water to Jew Town (it was actually called that). Sweltering walk around town, great main street, lots of ancient buildings and great scenes of daily life. Went into the Dutch Palace museum, where I spent more time standing in front of the fans holding my shirt up (just a little) rather than in front of the artifacts. Walked by the synagogue, and along Jew Street (yes, it was again called that), and stopped in at Cafe Jew Town (yup). Walked by a shop that sold nothing but garlic, great photo of it (which will appear on my photoblog in, well, a long time). Back to the boat jetty, where Jim stood in the Gents line, and Blaire and I stood in the Ladies line to get our tickets. Back to Bolgatty for a swim and some poolside bar snacks. Then got a cab ride (we have a personal driver) to the Kerala Folklore Museum, a really impressive collection of performing arts pieces (among lots of other cool knick-knacks). Back to Bolgatty for buffet dinner, TV, early bed.

Alarm at 8 to be ready for our pick-up at 9 to head down to Allepey where we'd be going on a houseboat tour in the backwaters. Couple hour drive, and then boarded our own, private houseboat. Thought there would be a few families on one, but no, just two rooms, one for Blaire and I and one for Jim. Still livin' like royalty! Lounged on the boat, watched the great scenery and local life go by, pulled The God of Small Things back out (takes place in Kerala, so thought this would be the perfect place to read chapter 2). Stopped at a small market to pick up some fresh fish for our boat crew to cook up for our dinner and lunch. Meals were amazing, but could have fed 10 (I hope someone ate our leftovers... such a shame to waste all that!). More reading, photo-taking, and some card-playing after dinner. Boat docked for the night, had a great sleep.

Lovely tea and breakfast on board, then engine back on at 8. Floated around for an hour before 9am final dock. Our driver brought us back to Kochi, this time to the Fort Kochi area, where we stayed at the wonderful Old Lighthouse Hotel (www.oldlighthousehotel.com). We were greeted with flower garlands and fresh juice. Checked in, then walked around town, and came back for our complimentary arrival reflexology foot massages! Blaire and I continued with our own little spa, painting our fingernails and toenails pretty bright colors. Walked to town for dinner and an evening concert of tabla and sitar at the Kerala Kathakali Centre.

Up at 8 after a pretty sleepless night. AC not working properly, slits in the windows and doors letting mosquitoes in which bit and buzzed all night. Breakfast at the town bakery, near the great Loafer's Corner Cafe (where we stopped for shakes yesterday). Ambassador ride to the jetty again, 5 cent ferry to Ernakulam part of town (where Blaire and I stayed when we arrived) to get on a tour boat. Had noticed lots of party-music boats going by in the last few days, thought we'd try one. We could either get a Regular boat for $1 per person, or a Special boat for $5 per person. Difference: on the regular one you have to wait for 20 people to be on before it leaves. Place was deserted, so we paid the extra for the Special, immediate departure boat. It felt pretty strange being a large empty boat. Chairs were set up for about 30, and we were 3. And there was no party music. And the sight-seeing spots along the way were all places we had already been: Bolgatty Palace, Chinese fishing nets, Jew town. Didn't matter. All we wanted was to be out on the water on a moving boat - it was again ridiculously hot, humid and muggy. Water breeze helped a little. Got off, went to Coffee Beanz, great lunch spot Blaire and I had discovered when we were there a few days ago. Back to Fort Kochi, back to Old Lighthouse for nap. AC still not working, told front desk as we headed out for dinner, said it would be in order when we returned. Quick meal before concert #2, this time a tabla-harmonium-singing combo. Saw better versions of this up north in Rishikesh (sigh... miss my little home). Back to Old Lighthouse, AC not fixed, but managed a decent sleep.

Next destination: Periyar Wildlife Preserve in Thekkady.                

Good-bye Goa!

We have finally moved on from Goa. Loved it, but it was time to go. Like I said before, when you become unmoved by beaches, sunsets and 80 year olds wiggling about in loincloths, it's time for a change of scenery.

We packed up and left Sevas around noon on Wednesday, took a tuk-tuk to Chaudi bus station (for the 45 minute ride up the coast to Benaulim), where, upon arrival, we saw a toddler squatting on the station floor with a turd coming out of his bum. Blaire was uncontrollable with laughter, got her camera out, and photographed the kid who angrily stared back. Fantastic shot. Bus was there and about to leave, threw our bags into the back compartment and got onto the already crowded bus. No seats. The heat was unbearable. A couple minutes after departure, I looked at Blaire and said, with exasperation, "The sweat trickling down my spine is going into my but crack." The look on her face was priceless. The two of us and a couple great Danes (aka two large Danish guys) were the only westerners on the bus. They were sitting across the aisle from each other (their long legs needing an aisle seat), so when the two Indians on either side of them got off the bus, Blaire and I squeezed into the window seats beside each one. Chatted for a couple minutes (the typical, much repeated, Where are you from, How long have you been here, Where are you going next), then they both fell asleep, heads bobbing up and down a little, and their huge bodies limp and leaning on us as they snoozed. Seriously??? I was drenched by the time we got off the bus. Got a tuk-tuk to our guesthouse from the station, had a much needed shower, and walked to the waterfront for dinner. Back in our room, played cards, and in bed by 9pm. I had a great sleep, getting up at 8 the next morning (only a couple typical night wakes), the darkness and quietness and closed room a nice change from Sevas. But Blaire had a harder time sleeping. She was totally spooked out by the isolated guesthouse in the palm tree woods, the whole place reminding her of a horror movie she had seen The Skeleton Key. It was pretty  creepy. There was hardly anyone around, but lots of Jesus photos, calendars and statues staring at us (Benaulim is a Catholic fishing village).

That day, there were a few sights we wanted to check out around Benaulim, and we didn't want another bike fiasco, so we rented our first scooters in India. Can't be that hard. The guys who rented them to us looked quite concerned about the well-being of their vehicles when they realized we didn't even know how to start the engine. Then, when they saw our wobbly test ride, they made sure to tell us to wear our helmets (which we didn't, it was way to hot) and that the parts were expensive to replace if damaged. If have to admit, the first 5 minutes of riding were quite terrifying. We didn't really know how to manoeuvre the things, and we are on lawless Indian roads (though we purposely picked a relatively calm town to rent our bikes). We rode on the wrong side half the time, wondering why so many people were driving towards us, and got honked at a million times, though that's just normal here, and doesn't necessarily mean you're doing anything wrong (though we probably were). We got the hang of it after not too long, and from then on really enjoyed scootering along, and increased our pathetically slow speed a little. We rode to Goa Chitra, Benaulim's ethnographic museum, with great antique pieces showing the development of farming and daily life. There were fabulous gypsy carriages, bridal carriages, and an immense sugar can press. Then we scooted a little south down the coast to Vaca, where Blaire had her first sugar cane juice, from a much smaller - yet still fascinating - contraption, and then up the coast a little ways to Colva, where we stopped for a couple minutes to dip our feet in the ocean water. Back to town, stopped at Baskin Robbins for an ice-cream (sign on the counter said 100% pure veg ice cream... ?) and a quick reprieve from the heat in the AC. Next stop was Braganza House, and 400 year old Portuguese mansion which we could visit the inside of, but it was at least a half hour scooter ride that went through a main town, and even though we were feeling pretty at ease on our rides, we weren't confident enough for this. So we returned our scooters, got a cab, and went to the amazing mansion. The rooms and furniture were exquisite, my favorite part being the ballroom, imagining all the lovely ladies in their gowns dancing the night away with live piano music echoing around the grand hall. Cab back to town, picked our scooters back up, and rode to dinner.   

Back at Simon Cottages, we finished packing our last bits and walked out to the front gate to wait for the tuk-tuk we had reserved earlier to bring us to the train station, for the overnight ride to Kochi (Kerala). 5, 10, 15 minutes go by. Ok, gotta strap on the heavy bags (I'm carrying a total of about 30 kilos/66 lbs) and walk 15 minutes to the main intersection to flag down another driver. Got to the station with about 25 min to spare, but train was delayed 30 min, so almost an hour wait. Settled into the Ladies Only waiting room and giggled with a little 4-year-old girl who was very amused by us. I enjoyed her presence very much until she had coughing fit onto my face, while leaning on me, with a mouthful of freshly chewed crackers. Lovely. Blaire laughed. Train finally arrived around 9:30pm. I was looking forward to the overnight journey, as I love train rides (compared to bus rides). But of course, transportation is rarely perfect here, and this turned out to be probably the worst yet. We had guaranteed spots on the train, but our seats numbers were not confirmed (tourist quota tickets). Forgot to check the seating plan at the office while we waited, so had no idea which wagon to get into. Man ushered us into the closest one and told us to have a seat while we waited for the ticket master to make his way down the aisle and check our tickets to direct us to the right seats. Blaire and I were both exhausted, so when the Indian men in front of us tried making conversation, we weren't as chirpy as usual. One kept taking my ticket out of my hands to check the details and try to figure out where we should be (since we were taking up some of their space). After waiting over half an hour, a very friendly Muslim guy across the aisle took our tickets and went to find one of the train attendants to settle the issue. He came back with our seat numbers and offered to walk us there, as it was 3 wagons over and the lights were all out. We gladly accepted. Sleeper trains are set up as such: one open compartment has 6 beds, 3 bunks on each side, an aisle, then 2 perpendicular bunks on the other side. Blaire and I were in the 6 bed section, middle bunk on the left, and top bunk on the right. The lights were out and people were already sleeping when we got there, so we fumbled around to figure out our sleeping arrangements. There are no luggage compartments, and leaving bags on the floor would block the aisle. So we decided to use one of our bunks just for luggage (the middle one on the left since we couldn't haul our bags as high as the third level) and they took up the whole bed. Then both uf us climbed up to the third bunk on the right and tried to puzzle our bodies in such a way that we could both fit on the miniature, hard, sticky plastic covered bed (managed to get both our torsos in a horizontal position, but limbs were dangling off the side. This was a non AC train, which meant open windows, which we figured would be fine for nighttime when it's not too hot, but what it also meant was screechingly loud noise from the wheels against the tracks, the stench of burning rubber and sewers blowing in from outside, and our assumption about the night not being too hot... well, it was wrong. I was drenched. Good thing we were both exhausted, otherwise there would have been zero sleep that night. Still didn't sleep well, of course, but did manage to fall in and out of short snoozes. 

Got up at 5 the next morning to go for a pee in the dark hole-in-the-ground toilet, stayed up listening to music for an hour while Blaire slept, then I managed to fall back asleep, and when I woke again at 7, Blaire was up. So was the sun. So were most people on the train. Stayed up, climbed down the bunk, stretched a little, and looked outside - from an open door without any barriers at the end of the wagon - at the Keralan scenery going by.

Next post: Kerala!

Get us outta here!

Ok, so it's not that bad. We are just really fed up of being sticky and drippy 24/7, and of having mice, dogs, roosters and birds preventing us from ever getting a full night's sleep. So, after a week in our eco-hut, we're off to Benaulim this afternoon, where we'll stay one day before heading all the way down to Kochi in Kerala.


Quick day-by-day of our time here:


Day 1: Checked into Sevas (http://www.sevaspalolemgoa.com/), our favorite accommodation yet. Straw huts with an attached straw covered veranda, with table, chairs, cushioned long chair, bamboo shelves where I displayed the mini library I've been lugging around, and open roof attached bathroom, with bucket flush and bucket shower and a banana tree spilling over the straw wall. Besides what I mentioned in the intro, this place is perfect. After unpacking, we headed to the beach, where we saw "Mogli" for the first time. (He didn't actually have a "name" at that point, but we later affectionately called him Mogli.) He is an 80ish year old man whom Blaire and I have serious (and slightly disturbing) crush on. He has bushy white hair, a long white beard, a great golden tan, and the only items of clothing he wears are yellow flip-flops and a bright red loin-cloth. It was love at first sight. He was standing tall on the beach when we first spotted him, so we settled onto two long-chairs nearby to keep sight of him. He then proceeded to do jumping jacks, legs swings (remember, he's wearing nothing but a loin-cloth) and a wobbly little dance that I caught on video (which will make me laugh hysterically for years to come). Then he walked confidently into the water, started his butterfly swim (he's 80!) and went out further than anyone else would dare. We worried a little as we awaited his return, but he came back safe and sound about 20 minutes later. He walked over to where he had left his yellow flip-flops, and walked away. Sigh. We checked the time so that we could return for another sighting tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. I'll move on to the next item on my list now, as I realize this could start sounding a little creepy... Went back to our hut, had a bucket shower under the open blue sky, and went for a lovely dinner on a peninsula cliff, overlooking the sunset on the sparkling water. Yeah. Not bad.


Day 2: Up at 7ish, went to my first yoga class since Rishikesh at 8:00, didn't like it (becoming a bit of a yoga snob), and ended up with terrible neck pain by the time I had returned to our hut. After breakfast at Sevas (where Blaire knocked her full glass of tea on the floor, and when the kind, calm waiter asked if she wanted another, she smirked, tilted her head, and said, "Actually, can I have a chocolate shake?"), we walked along the beach looking for an advertised cooking-class we wanted to get info from. I mentioned the heat in the last post, and that walk was just brutal. Even though the ocean was right there, the water is piss-warm, so no chance of cooling off with a swim. Walked about a half hour in the sand, then turned up a road that had lots of shops, still looking for the cooking school. By this time, we could barely put one foot in front of the other and seriously thought we might pass out. Saw a sign for a modern, western coffee shop that I had seen many other places in India, but had never been into, always opting for the more local joints. But I knew it would probably have AC. We found it about 5 minutes later, its closed glass doors like a mirage, and when we opened them... Hallelujah! An icy cold wave of air washed over us, and I don't think I've smiled so widely since I've been here. We sat down for ice-coffee and ice-cream desserts, sitting on the comfy couches until our skin was cold. Going through the doors in the opposite direction wasn't quite as extraordinary. Continued our search, found the cooking spot, but it was closed on Fridays. Note said next class was tomorrow night, so we scribbled our names down and would come back then. Another outrageously hot walk back to our end of the beach, perfectly timed to see Mogli at 1pm. He was laying directly on the sand, tanning his already perfect skin, with, again, his red loin-cloth just big enough (well, depending on the angle you looked from) to cover his man-parts. His routine exercises and swim  followed, as we giggled, filmed, photographed and looked on with love. (I realize you may again be a little concerned by this. We take full responsibility for our crush.) Home, shower, same resto as last night for fresh seafood and white wine, and another friggin' sunset.


Day 3: Neck pain from yesterday caused a pretty sleepless night, and it was terrible when I got up. Went to the neighboring hut habitat for an ayurvedic neck massage. Neck pain combined with deep massage equals excruciating pain. I've never cringed and groaned so much during a massage, but I knew it would be worth it. Didn't totally fix me, but did help. Another hot walk into town, this time looking for a spot to get our tattoos done (only henna for now...). Each got our left hand covered in intricate designs by a cute friendly lady. By the time we got back to our end of the beach, we had missed Mogli. Shed a few tears, went back for our afternoon shower, and headed back to town at 6 for our cooking class. Door closed. Resto next door lent me their cell to call Rahul, the course chef, who said he couldn't make it today, but would be there tomorrow. Walked back onto the beach, and right there in front of us.... was Mogli! But this time, he was in his evening-wear: a very small white beach towel wrapped around his waist. And by his side, a younger blonde woman. Blaire and I were crushed. We consoled ourselves with 2-for-1 happy hour cocktails and dinner on the beach, watching, you guessed it, the sunset. Went to our cliff resto from the previous two nights for some dessert (banoffee pie - graham crumb base topped with creamy toffee and chocolate, surrounded by banana slices), where the Nepalese waiter (same we had had the two other nights, and whom Blaire was developing a little crush on... a little more sane than our Mogli infatuation), kept asking if we wanted seafood, even thought we told him we had already eaten and were only here for dessert. Went back to our hut, played some cards, had some great laughs, and went to bed.


Day 4: Same old. Morning beach-walk, great breakfast in "town", great AC internet with great connection (finally managed to quickly upload some photos for my blog (reminder: http://erika-india-pics.blogspot.in/), 1pm routine beach lounge while watching Mogli flail his limbs about on the sand before butterfly-swimming far out into the ocean, and pm shower. Walked to cooking class, 3rd time's a charm, Rahul was there. Just two other girls there for the class, friends from Surrey (England). 2 hours of cooking followed by an hour of eating our delicious dishes and chatting. Made dahl (lentil) soup, palaak paneer (spinach with unripened cheese cubes), jeera aloo (cumin potatoes), Goan prawn curry (my favorite dish that night), and chapati flat bread. The bread was so quick and easy, I could make some every morning (Indians make it at least 3 times a day). Home for some reading and bed.


Day 5: We decided to change things up a little today, by going to Patnem beach, a 5 minute walk down the road. We knew this meant no Mogli, but we did it anyway. The beach was great, much calmer and less commercial than Palolem. Sat on cushioned long-chairs covered with a straw parasol, sipped fresh juice, and read our books. Stopped for a beachfront bruschetta on our way back to Sevas, pm shower, relax, more reading on our veranda, and off to town for a great wood oven pizza at Magic Italy (actually run by Italians). Played more cards when we got back, worked out our abs with laughter, and went to bed. But sleep, not so much. The pizzas were quite huge and we each only managed to get through half of ours. So we came home with a full pizza boxed up for breakfast or lunch the next day. When I got into bed, Blaire asked where the pizza was. Said I left it on the chair on the veranda. "Isn't it more likely to get eaten out there than in here?" "Uh, yeah, I guess." So I got up and brought it in. Put a wicker basket under it as a little prop, so the ants on the floor would be a little further from the box. Ok. Lights out. An hour later, we were awoken by packs of barking and howling dogs, a regular occurrence during the night. But there was also another noise. I looked in the direction of the audible squeeks, to see that the basket prop was shaking a little. Then the mouse's little grey head pokes out from the basket, and it scurries away when I shine my light on it. Blaire and I are giggling nervously. I decide to bring the pizza box back out onto the veranda chair (not before throwing my deodorant at the basket to make sure no other rodents are in there), but just as I'm about to come out from under the mosquito net covering our bed and cautiously step onto the floor, a large brown cockroach comes in from under the bathroom "door". Seriously??? Not wanting to kill it, I just use my flip-flop to give it a strong sweep right back where it came from. Then I quickly bring the pizza box back outside and run back into bed, under the safety of the net. Ok. Lights back out. Attempted sleep despite awakened nerves. Now, of course, I slept lightly, and every tiny sound would wake me. I went in and out sleep all night, waking at least every half hour, most often by the sound of a mouse (same one?) who kept crawling up and into my open backpack. (The next morning, I would realize it had been nibbling holes into my underwear, which were at the top of the pack.) Every time it woke me, I would shine my light at it or throw something at it, and try going back to sleep. After a few times, I got up and tightly pulled the draw strings on my pack to close it up. Mouse kept coming, but less frequently. Then, at around 4am, the roosters started their loud crowing. Think I finally managed a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep between 5 and 7.


Day 6: Decided to venture out even further today. Agonda beach was about five times the distance of Patnem (yesterday's 5 minute walk) on the map, so we rented bicycles to avoid a half hour walk in the heat. Got onto our pretty pink and blue bikes, dropped our bags into the front baskets, and peddled up towards Agonda. Beautiful scenery, lovely flat road... not for long. Steep hills appeared, and it took everything we had to get up them. Up and down and up and down as we became drenched in sweat. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 20, 30, 40... We were so hot and exhausted that we couldn't even hold our heads up. They would just hang to one side as we panted our way over the hills. People passing by on scooters would slow down when they saw us, to make sure we were ok. Of course, no one else was peddle-biking this route in peak sun and heat time. Pretty stupid idea. Took almost an hour to get there. Map should be redone. Ran into the water as soon as we arrived, then had fresh juices under our straw parasol. Beach was gorgeous with very few people and shops. But honestly, after several days of this beach life, we've become pretty unphased by it... and by the sunsets... and even by Mogli (who we saw one last time before leaving this morning). Stayed a couple hours on Agonda beach, then went to AC internet to cool off, and then tried to figure out what we'd do to get back. 'Cause we sure as hell weren't doing that bike ride again mid-afternoon! I went to and ATM, and by the time I came out, Blaire had 3 guys hard at work dismantling a tuk-tuk, removing its backseat and doors so that our two basket-bikes could fit in. Of course, there was no room left for us, so we followed behind in a nice Suzuki 4x4. Our cheap day of transportation ($1/day for bike rentals) became rather pricey after that. Took it easy when we got home, pm shower, small dinner at Sevas, reading, bed. And no food in the room this time! Left two bananas on the porch that we had left over, but of course, they were gone by morning. Good sleep, well rested for today's change of location. 


Day 7: Today. Will save description for next post. This wasn't a quick day-by-day after all. But come on, it's almost a week's worth. And my posts have been pretty short lately.


Ta-ta for now...         

Volvo, Sevas and Palolem

Time for a post from Palolem... It's hot, it's humid, it's beautiful. I said Arambol was hot, then I said Hampi was hot, but Palolem is HOOOOOTTTTTTT!!! (and HUMID!) The kind of hot where your front and back torso drip when you're sitting still in the shade. And the kind of humid where, despite the scorching heat, you put clothes out to dry and the next day they're still damp. Blaire and I have had plenty of wonderful conversations, some serious, some funny (great ab workout level of funny), but here in Palolem, we've had a few long silent walks, because the exertion of speaking is just too demanding. So yeah, it's hot.

When I mentioned our AC Volvo luxury sleeper bus to get here, you probably got a mental image which is, well, far from reality. The word luxury should always been taken very lightly when refering to Indian transportation. Sure, it was a notch above the previous overnight bus we took, but not quite what we secretly wished for. After finding the bus parked on the side of the road after a long walk through the dark streets, we shared a single-size bed, with brick-like, tough plastic covered pillows, with just barely enough room to sit up without hitting our head on the bunk above. And the AC was a warmish weak stream of air coming from tiny vents. We were surrounded by obnoxious weed-smoking foreigners (have realized we much prefer traveling with a bus full of locals than one full of western Europeans), who kept being told by the bus attendant that smoking was prohibited inside. We hunched over and ate our hastily purchased bus dinner from road stall (finally found the bus 2 minutes before it took off, so no time to be picky about food). Dairy Milk bar as the entree, Ketchup chips as the main, and cookies for dessert. We'll have a healthy breakfast. So, with the help of my eye-mask and earplugs, I managed a few short spurts of sleep which, combined, added up to probably about 2 hours for the whole night-ride. And even with all that awake time, we still managed to miss our stop. We were scheduled to arrive at 5am, so that's the time I set my alarm for, since buses are consistently behind schedule, but when I got up and went to ask the driver about our stop, we were in Margao, a town 40km north of where we wanted to be. So I went back to the bunk, shook Blaire, we rushed off the bus, then sat for ice coffee and pastries (so much for the healthy breakfast) at a hotel shop that was open at 5:30am, playing loud rap music that was very irritating after a sleepless night, then found a local bus to get on that would bring us back down to Palolem. 

Here, we checked in to our favorite accomodation yet: Sevas Huts and Cabanas, an eco-friendly habitat that reminded us of the other-wordly Yoga Magic in Anjuna, but not quite as other-wordly. Have been here for 4 days, staying another 2, then heading a little ways up the coast to Benaulim. 

I'll write about our week here before leaving on Wednesday. Off for breakfast on the beach :)

It has begun.

http://erika-india-pics.blogspot.in/
Yup, it's what you think it is! Only a few pics from Delhi for now... more to come shortly. Enjoy :)

Magnificent Hampi

If you want to feel like you are on a completely different planet, come to Hampi. I read that it was an other-wordly terrain, but never expected this. I won't even attempt to put it into too many words, because I think it just needs to be seen. In photos at least. On my soon to be created photo-blog. (I totally get it if you don't believe that for a second!)


After a cheap, cramped, bumpy (to put it very mildly) overnight bus ride to get here from Panjim, Blaire and I were not feeling uber-pleasant when we pulled up at 8am. But just looking around quickly changed that. We were surrounded by enormous sandy-orangy boulders, and mountains of them for as far as the eye can see, spotted here and there with beautifully carved temples and ruins. It is described as the result of volcanic activity followed by erosion, but I'm still at a loss to understand how the site can be so gigantic. The site and scope remind me of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, but the scenery is quite different. Yesterday, Blaire and I got a tuk-tuk guided tour of part of the grounds, with a great, friendly driver. Our last stop was the sunset look-out... mesmerizing. That's all I'll say about it until photos. 


Today, after a great and much needed sleep, I went up to our guesthouse rooftop to watch the sun rise over a palmtree-lined horizon. Absolute beauty. When Blaire got up, not much later, we headed to the river ghats where the "mascot" elephant, Lakshmi, would be given her daily bath. We sat on the steps and waited for her arrival. After about half an hour, we heard a voice from behind saying, "Please clear the way." We were sitting just below where Lakshmi was making her descent! She walked right by us, into the river, and slowly bent her knees to lay down for her morning scrub. Every day, around 9am, she gets a two-hour serious scrub-down. We stayed for half. When she turned over to have her second side done, we figured we had seen enough.


Then we went to rent our pretty pink basket bikes, to ride around some sight we hadn't been to yesterday. With much more energy and in a much better mood, we peddled along, giggling like 6-year-olds. Visited more incredible sights, including one panoramic viewpoint from the top of a mountain of boulders that required trudging up about a thousand huge rock steps to the temple at the top. What we saw from there is again beyond words. Having biked and hiked for a couple hours in peak sun and heat (it is hot here - dry desert heat, so bearable, but hot) we were thrilled to be back in "town" to sit for 4 icy cold Cokes and some satisfying mac and cheese. I know, not very Indian, but it's what we needed.


Back to our room after a long lunch-time chat (one of many great ones we've had), to pack up and shower before tonight's overnight journey take-2. But this time, we have a deluxe AC Volvo sleeper bus, so should be a tad more comfy than 2 nights ago (and for a mere $4 more!).


Back in Goa tomorrow morning, to the south this time, for some quiet secluded beach time. Yeah, real tough life we're living. I can understand if you're getting a teeny bit sick of hearing how wonderful everything is!


May your life be filled with such beauty as well, whatever form it may take...

Greetings from Portugal!

Or at least that's what it feels like. We've made our way down to Panjim, the capital of Goa, described as the cutest capital in India. It is indeed extremely cute, with old colorful buildings lining the small streets, but it feels more like Europe than India. Yesterday, we walked around town, visiting the main attraction, the Church of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception (try that one with your mouth full!). Stunning white church, described as a gigantic wedding cake on a hill. And that's exactly what it looked like.

Last I blogged was from Arambol, and between there and here, we spent a few days in my favorite place yet in Goa: Anjuna. It wasn't at all what I expected. The guidebook refers to it as "Dear old Anjuna, that stalwart on India's hippy scene," and many people said it could be skipped and that the food was terrible. (The restos were among favorite in all of India, though the food did make Blaire quite sick for 24 hours. She then made a quick recovery after sleeping a full day.) Anjuna was much more relaxed than Arambol, and much prettier. We didn't end up getting our tattoos or staying up all night for the full moon party (which, anyway, is nothing compared to the scene in Kho Pagnan, Thailand). Just went for a late dinner at a gorgeous seafront outdoor restaurant (poshest, priciest meal yet - Blaire even opted for a glass of white wine, and I had a delicious cucumber martini), then back for a good sleep at our lovely guesthouse on a tranquil street (except for the constant scooters driving by). Despite the proximity of everything, everyone rides a scooter. Most people here are not tourists, but rather hippies who came and never left! On our last day there, we went for a long walk around town with two destinations in mind. One was Hotel Bougainvillea (aka Granpa's Inn) which is a guesthouse in a 200-year-old Portuguese-style mansion. The grounds and interior we "ridiculously pretty" (another guidebook quote) and there are also fabulous outdoor yoga halls where teacher training is available (hmmm, maybe on my trip back next year?). Our final destination was absolutely out of this world. Literally. Blaire and I both said it felt like walking right in and out of a dream or parallel universe. It's called Yoga Magic and is an eco-retreat center, with stunning tent/huts to stay in (for a hefty chunk-a-change) and compostable toilets, open-concept showers (think: watch the buffaloes graze in the sunny open field as you scrub yourself with natural organic soap), and plenty of other incredible aspects. Here's the website, worth checking out: www.yogamagic.net. Pretty sure it will be a non-negotiable eventual honeymoon spot!

So, again, I'll keep this pretty brief. So much more to say, but details will appear in the book...

Off on an overnight bus to Hampi tonight, a Unesco World Heritage sight that looks stunning. Then heading south for a week of Goa's best, most relaxed and secluded beaches, to do some beach reading and beach yoga before heading even further south, into Kerala, to meet Jim (Blaire's dad) in Kochi on the 25th. 

Going to spend the afternoon in Old Goa today, another Unesco sight. 

Still no photos from me, but Blaire has added more to facebook for you to check out :)

The marvels of this diverse country continue to take our breath away.

Beautiful, mesmerizing, fascinating India...   

Hippies and Heat in Goa

Haven't posted in a few days... get ready for a long one! 

Haha, just kidding... I only have about 30 min to write. Blaire is getting a massage and I'm going at 12:30 (she got a full body 80min one, I got a 30min foot one, both at an ayurvedic center here in Arambol). So, gotta be speedy!

Boy, I thought Mumbai was relaxing... well, it feels like we've arrived on a different planet! Arambol is the Woodstock of Goa, filled with dreadlocks, tattoos, and t-shirts of Che and Bob. Spent a somewhat relaxing afternoon on the beach yesterday (after switching from a guesthouse our first night to a beach hut - a few minutes from the beach - our second. Today is Holi, so our faces are covered in colorful powder, and kids are running around spraying us tinted water while erupting with laughter :) Massages, beach, then tattoos... oops, was I not supposed to write that?! Hahaha.

Back to our last day in Bombay... I mentioned a very special event the night before we left. As I was walking back from the bathroom to my room, the desk guy said, "Excuse me, ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you..." and proceeded to tell me about an outdoor wedding taking place the next night, just across the street, where the family had requested white foreigners to greet people as they arrived and to serve some food. He said Blaire and I could do this if we wished, and we'd even be paid (500rs/$10 - which goes a long way here) and fed! I thought it all sounded a little odd at first, but the more I thought about it, the more excited I got. Blaire was still napping when I entered our room, so I anxiously waited for her to wake to propose the offer. When she arrived in India, she said; "I want to see an elephant and I want to go to a wedding." Well, Blaire, you'll more than just go to a wedding! As I expected, she was very enthusiastic about our job offer. 

We were given beautiful saris to wear, which Indian women in the changing room helped us put on - what a process! Then they did our make-up (there were 3 other foreign girls with us), and then we took our posts. Blaire and I were greeters, the other 3 were inside serving food. It was a bit awkward to be hired for a Muslim-Hindu wedding, and we wondered why they wanted foreigners, but it was a great experience nonetheless... don't think I'll be getting another similar offer anytime soon. We smiled, with a little bow or Indian head-waggle, as we greeted the guests with a namaste - prayer hands and all - as well as a as salaam walekum. Said enough of those that night to last me a lifetime! Guests were of course stunning. Intricate, colorful and bejewelled Indian women in saris; Muslim women in gorgeous black burkas with discreet but ornate jewel embroidery; and the men looked pretty spiffy too ;) They all pulled up in fancy cars, their entrance contrasted with the little scruffy street kids who hang out just beside on the waterfront, and who kept trying to sneak into the wedding. At the end of a long 5 hours on duty (knees and lower back unhappy), we were able to head in and help ourselves to the huge, yummy buffet.

Home and in bed by about 1am, only to have the alarm wake us at 5:40 to catch our day train to Goa. Great ride on a sleeper coach, lowest of the AC classes, much better than what I expected. 15 bucks for a comfortable 11 hour ride. Blaire had her first train bathroom experience, and was not impressed with having to squat over a hole in the floor, ridding herself right out onto the tracks. Her reaction provided me with a very good laugh :)

Great time relaxing in Goa so far. But with the amount of sleep we've been getting since she arrived in Mumbai, I don't know how we're getting through the days. Last night's attempt was severely interrupted by the irritating buzz of mosquitoes outside the net, the obnoxiously loud people having dinner, drinks and laughs till 4am just outside our hut, and the roosters which took over just as the voices faded. Can't they wait till sunrise?? Isn't that the idea??

So, not too much planned for today besides massages and beach, then heading a little south to Anjuna this evening, to go to the night market and then the colorful Holi festivities combined with the full moon party. Probably not much sleep to be had tonight either...

Off to get my feet rubbed. Blaire posted a few pics on facebook... she's quicker than I am!

Peace out from Goa :)         

(How'd you like that quickie?)

Busy as bees in Bombay!

As much as I adore this city, I seem to be severely allergic to it. For the past 48 hours, there has been a steady stream of watery snot running out of my right nostril, uncontrollable tears rolling down my cheeks from the outer corners of my puffy eyes, and frequent fits of 6-8 sneezes in a row. Day and night. (Aaaa-aa-choo!) This morning seems to be a bit better, let's hope that's end of it.


I'm not sure what it is about March and writing, but my pen has serious diarrhea. In three days, I've filled as many notebook pages as the last 50 days combined! Hence the lengthy blog posts. And those don't ever cover the half of it! Not even my crazy travel day from Haridwar to Mumbai, or the missing details and anecdotes from Rishikesh. (Actually, to save you and I both some time and sanity, I will be keeping the full description of that day and the missing details for my book... stay tuned! Unless, of course, there's a rainy afternoon where I'm sick and have nothing else to do... or if I decide I really can't stand Blaire and need an excuse to get away for a few hours... kidding, kidding... she's incredible!) So, I told Blaire over breakfast this morning that I was determined to write a quick, point form post today. If I went into my usual detail about the past 2 days in Bombay, this one post would turn into a novella.


Come on, Erika. You can do this. Point form. And... go!


Saturday, March 3: 
-Out and about at 8am, breakfast at Leopold's, walk along the waterfront to the Gateway of India and the Taj Mahal Hotel (2nd time for me, first for Blaire). This time, went closer to both, even entering the lobby of the Taj (after passing through security and bag scan to get in). Think the starting price for a basic room here is $500/night. Blaire asked why I hadn't reserved us a room here.
-Back to room, where Blaire napped for a bit, while I wrote and organized. When she woke, we headed out to the ferry at Nariman point (just down the road, at the Gateway) for the hour-long ride to Elephanta Island. Impressive caves, with massive basalt columns, carvings and worship statues. Awesome monkey-watching outside, including one picking away at another's butt-hole, looking for tasty treats. Not so awesome watching in horror as a dog pranced along the road, his teeth sunk into a baby monkey's neck, its body swaying from side-to-side below. Ferry back, great views as we approached the city.
-Back to room, quick break, then out for internet and diner dinner.
-Attempted good night's sleep, not achieved by either of us.


Sunday, March 4:
-Out and about at 8. (Seriously, jet-lag means nothing to this girl. It's taking all I've got to keep up with her!) Amazingly scrumptious breakfast at a guidebook recommended bakery up the street. We both opted for the same thing: French toast with brown butter apples, a dollop of mascarpone, flaked almonds and a maple glaze. It was even better than it sounds!
-Fiat cab to Victoria Terminus to book our train to Goa. One of the most beautiful buildings I've ever seen. Sea of people and trains in the old/modern mixed interior. Monday's train was full, settled on Tuesday (which we are now both thrilled about, given the opportunity that has arisen for tonight... again, everything happening for a reason, and things falling beautifully into place). Fiat cab to Dharavi slum, the biggest in Asia, 2nd only to Kibera slum in Nairobi, Kenya. Weren't sure what to expect when we got dropped off. Didn't manage to book the slum tour we intended to take, and didn't know if we could even go on our own, or whether it was safe. After steeping out of the cab, it took no time to realize that Dharavi is home to the kindest, friendliest, happiest people in India, with the most beautiful and genuine smiles stretching ear to ear. Never have I felt more welcomed, openly greeted, heart-warmed. And they didn't ask for anything. Walking through the sprawling maze of narrow alleyways, with Namaste Jees to the elders and photo ops with the excited children, Blaire and I could not have felt happier or safer. One of my favorite places on earth.
-Then, another Fiat to the nearby Juhu district, the poshest place in town. Glamorous designer stores line the tidy streets, huge, multi-storied shiny shopping malls are guarded by security at every door, all this just a few steps away from sky high "projects/ghetto" concrete buildings, and low to the ground shacks (each tin or plastic roof dotted with a satellite dish, of course). First, we walked along Juhu beach, stepping  into the ocean for the first time, stopping for animated chats with local kids playing cricket on the sand, and then we tuk-tuked back into central Juhu for our first Bollywood movie.
-Hour long cab ride back home, through the ever fascinating city streets, both of us collapsing on our beds as soon we reached our room. Much needed rest, then out for internet and canteen dinner around 10pm.


Today (including tonight's very special event) will blogged about tomorrow, from Goa!


To end my last post from magical Mumbai, I want to leave you with the description of this city from Blaire's guidebook, which I love and is so, so true:


Mumbai is beautiful mess, full of dreamers and hard-laborers, actors and gangsters, stray dogs and exotic birds, artists and servants, fisherfolk and crorepatis (millionaires) and many, many other people.


Indeed, like much of the rest of India, it is a city of stark contrasts. Love it or hate it. I choose love.  


(Ok, so some points were not so point-like, but I think I did pretty good! Yet, as I re-read, it seems scandalous to have left out so much.)        

And one becomes two!

She's 18, she has only travelled to Ireland (outside of Canada and the US), and she chose India as the destination for her first trip to a third world country... brave girl! I can tell already that Blaire will be a swell travel companion :)


I'm going to try keeping this brief (you don't believe me, I know... I don't even believe myself) because, as swell as she is, Blaire did not cooperate in spending the day sleeping off jet lag. We've been out and about since 7:45am, after hitting the sack at 2. I'm totally zonked! It's now quarter to nine, and I want to be in bed very soon. 


After leaving internet after yesterday's long post, I walked along the waterfront and saw the Gateway of India and the luxurious Taj Hotel, one of the 2008 bomb attack targets (Leopold's was another). Then walked around a little more, stopped for a delicious carrot-beetroot juice at a roadside stand (more thirsty than hungry in the heat...), checked Blaire's flight status: 45min early :) and booked my ride to the airport from the guy at the front desk of my hostel. Back out into the streets as it got dark, and that's when I found out that Mumbai is a night city. The streets are crammed full of people from all walks of life, and that's when the street kids and beggars come out. There are already quite a few during the day, but not nearly as many as at night. And the night ones aren't as calm as the day ones. A woman about my age held onto my shoulder, following me for a few blocks before finally sighing, rolling her eyes, and giving up; an old woman sitting on the ground grabbed and tugged on my shoulder bag; and small children pointed pleadingly at chocolate bars from the roadside stall as I paid for a bottle of water. As heart-wrenching as this all is, and as much as I wish I could help, the way to do so is not by contributing to the twisted, corrupt beggar industry of Mumbai. So I kindly tell them no when they approach, becoming stern at times when they persist. As fascinating as the night-life is, my love affair is more with Bombay by day. Back to India Guest House at 10:30pm to catch my ride to the airport.


The reserved black and yellow Fiat - staple Indian ride - was waiting for me downstairs. Hostel guy had come down to make sure I got into the right one, and opened the front door for me. I hesitated momentarily - do I really want to ride shotgun through the crazy streets of the city? - but, what the heck. Prateek (astrologer #1 from Rishikesh) told me it wasn't my time to die anytime soon, so really, what did I have to lose? I hopped in, greeted the driver in Hindi and peered over my left shoulder, hoping - but not at all expecting - to find a seatbelt. Negative. I shrugged and settled in for a beautifully hectic ride to the airport in the company of Anwar. We chatted about Mumbai, traffic, car models, cops, snow, Junu, jobs, and more. I used a little a Hindi; he used pretty decent English. We neared the airport a little over an hour later, at which point he told me there were now problems with the cops not letting the city cabs wait by the arrivals (only the airport cabs could be there). He said he'd drop me as close as he could (5-minute walk), but that as he waited for my return with Blaire, he'd have to go back to the gas station he pointed out earlier - 15 minute walk from arrival area. Ohhh boy. This was going to be quite the introduction for poor Blaire! I waited at the very nice, modern, outdoor arrival area for over an hour, and finally, at about 12:30, spotted Blaire across the square, walked over to her and gave her a nice big welcome hug (was supposed to also give her one from my dad and her dad, but in the moment, I forgot... tomorrow, promise!). I asked about her flight, then told her about the not-so-scenic walk we had ahead of us and offered to grab a bag, but she had packed so incredibly light (good job!) that she didn't need the help. I walked her in about 7 different directions before finally heading the way I thought Anwar and I had come. We walked for a good ten minutes down a busy road leaving the airport, some stretches with sidewalks, some without, while cab after cab, and tuk-tuk after tuk-tuk, slowed down beside us, offering rides, surely thinking, "Where do these two girls think they're going on foot away from the airport in the middle of the night??" After warding off dozens of them, some more persistent than others, to my (and surely Blaire's) huge relief, I saw the dim Indian Oil sign up ahead. Anwar waved as we approached, and moments later we were settled into the back seat, starting to catch up on the last 8 years of our lives. 


Back at India Guest House, we walked up the 3 flights of stairs and knocked on the padlocked entrance door. First, a towel-wrapped western man peered out from the barred window, wondering what we wanted (wasn't it pretty obvious?), then proceeded to tell us he didn't have the key. Seriously?? Was I really going to have to tell Blaire that we were sleeping in the staircase after taking her on a sketchy, dark airport walk? Surely, she was already planning her flight home in the morning. But luckily, moments later, the desk guy's smiling face appeared through the window and he unlocked the door to let us in. Ouf. Close one. He immediately asked Blaire for her passport, which she handed to him, but in his groggy, sleepy state didn't want to do the paper work right away, so told her to come back and pick it up in the morning. "Huh?" She clearly - and understandably - was not overjoyed by this idea, but I told her she could trust him and showed her to our room. (I suppose I could have told the guy we would bring it back in the morning, but I wasn't in the mood to argue... not that it would even have lead to arguing... oh well. Yes, she got her passport back this morning.)


(Sorry, Jim - and Kim, if you're reading too. I probably gave you a mild heart attack with all that!)


We got shushed several times as we kept chatting away, forgetting how late it was and that lots of people were sleeping. The wall partitions between each room do not reach the ceiling, so voices and light travel far. After more shushing and a couple knocks on the door asking us to reduce the light (how, without a dimmer, I don't know), we finally called it a day/night and closed up shop at 2am.


As mentioned earlier, we were up just a few hours later, and we just spent a great first day together - which I was planning to include in tonight's post, but I'm trying to keep my promise, it's 9:45 and my eyes are giving out on me, so it's time to head back to my room. (Blaire was here for a bit, but went back, also exhausted, about an hour ago. Time for me to follow.)


Hoping for a deep, long sleep...


(That wasn't too long, was it?)

Salaam Bombay!

Well, I've gone ahead and done it again. I've fallen in love. With the most populous city in India no less (and the fourth most populous city in the world, with a total metropolitan area population of approximately 20.5 million - Wiki): the great Mumbai. People here are kind, friendly, helpful, not pushy, and overall just wonderful. Weather is also great, much less intense than I was expecting (back in Rishikesh, I overheard rumours about Mumbai being in a record heat wave, but shortly before the plane landed at 5:15pm yesterday, the pilot announced the temperature at 27 degrees celcius. Not bad at all. Though I did break quite a sweat today while walking from Carlton Hotel to India Guest House, which are only a few blocks from each other, but I haven't quite familiarized myself with the streets yet, so went around in circles for about half an hour before finally arriving at my destination, and then traipsing up the narrow staircase with my heavy bags to the 3rd floor of the building, where India Guest House is located. 

You'll only find out about the reasons for the switch in my next post, which will describe yesterday's journey. I'm starting with today, because it'll be simpler and shorter. On average, I've written about 2 pages per day in my journal, but yesterday's count was: 26!!! (What the?!?) Nothing crazy or spectacular happened (well, aside from travelling half way across India using 8 different modes of transportation) so I guess I just had a lot of time to write since I was in transit all day, with my journal never further than an arm's length away. Was also just really inspired and motivated to write (because, clearly, until now, I haven't been... wink, wink), and I think I've officially decided to write a memoir when I get back. (Though I'm not sure when I'll find the time to sit down and write between getting my Intentional Community set up - finding land, resources, funds, material, participants, etc. -, teaching yoga, healing cancer patients, giving Tarot readings, doing a ton of research for everything I just mentioned, organizing fundraisers for Children of the Ganges, catching up with everyone, making a special photo and video montage of India, and hopefully starting a family and applying for adoption at some point... Yeah. I'm gonna be a busy gal. But have never felt more motivated, alive and inspired to do it all!


So, back to Bombay. Up around 6:45 this morning, but awake since about 6, after another pretty interrupted sleep. And not, as you might imagine, due to the unbearable noise of the city. It's actually a million times more calm and quiet than I expected. I can't quite believe how relaxed it feels. (You'd probably think it was nuts and terribly noisy if you were here, but after 50 days in India, I came to expect much worse.) The night-time weather was also quite pleasant. Even shut the window and turbo-strength ceiling fan, laying out on an amazingly comfortable bed (so comfortable, in fact, that I was tempted to just lie in it all day today) with just a tank-top, boxers, and light blanket. So, I'm not really sure why I woke up so often. The only thing I can think of is that I felt very itchy all over. I remember thinking, as I kept groggily waking up, "Please don't let it be bedbugs. Please don't let it be bed bugs." But I would just scratch away, then go back to sleep without checking for bugs. Morning verdict: no bites, no bugs. Don't know what caused it, but I recall a similar night when I arrived in Rishikesh... maybe it's just reacting and adjusting to new bedding. It looked greyish outside when I got up, but when the sun came up round 7, it yet again made its way into a blue sky. (I think I can count on one had the cloudy days since I've arrived, and on 3 fingers the times it has rained.) After using the nicest - though shared - bathroom (bowel movements still A1, fingers crossed!) I've seen so far in India (recently renovated, toilet paper supplied - a real luxury in India! -, hot water, nice tiling, glass division for shower, strong flush toilets), I dedicated almost 2 hours to a stellar packing job. (Sorry, that was a really choppy sentence!) Proper weight distribution and tightly rolled clothing makes the world of a difference. And I happily shoved all my warm heavy clothes down to the bottom, which shouldn't move from there till mid-May's mountain treks. Managed to fit my hiking boots in this time, and even had one less shoulder bag full of stuff than when I arrived. Awesome! Got dressed then went out to the common bathroom area to brush my teeth and splash my face (sadly, with Bombay tap water rather than fresh Rishikesh Ganga water), said good morning to the friendly staff of Carlton's Hotel on my way back to my room, and, packed up and ready to check out at noon, headed out to Leopold's, just two blocks down, for breakfast at 9. 


I must stop here to explain that going to Leopold Cafe was one of the things I most excitedly anticipated when heading to India. It's the location of many important scenes from what is bar-none the greatest book I've ever read: Shantaram. I highly recommend giving it a read if you haven't already. The story is extraordinarily fascinating and mind-blowing, and the way Gregory David Roberts writes and expresses his experiences, thoughts, and realizations, is truly inspiring, riveting, and deeply thought-provoking. Are you convinced yet? No? Ok. Here's more: while reading, I would meticulously (those who know me well know I'm a little - fine, fine, a lot - OCD) fold the pages that had mesmerising and thought-provoking passages, and by the time I got through the novel's thousand pages (oh yeah, have to warn ya, it's a brick!), no less than a few hundred pages were missing a corner. It actually took me two years to through the book, and while I'm certainly a slow reader by nature, it didn't help that I reread countless passages several times, because I wanted to let the profound and beautifully expressed messages sink in. If you're not yet convinced, I don't know what to tell ya. The book is labelled as a novel, but it's primarily the true account of the time Gregory David Roberts spent in India, mainly in Bombay. Actually, he is still living here, and while I didn't spot him at Leopold's this morning, I do hope to do so when I return with Blaire in the next few days! The cafe was actually a little different than what I expected, but I suppose it's changed quite a bit since Roberts first went in 1982.


For those whose interest has been tickled:


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leopold_Cafe (basic info)
http://www.leopoldcafe.com/ (great homepage)
http://www.shantaram.com/ (An amazing, amazing site. If you have time to get through it all - I haven't yet - I'm sure you won't be disappointed. But if not, check out the fascinating author facts to learn in point form about his incredible past and admirable present. Was thrilled to see confirmation about the rumours I heard before leaving on my trip: he is currently working on a sequel to Shantaram!)
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18907.Gregory_David_Roberts (basic info)
http://ia.rediff.com/news/2004/nov/30inter.htm (out-dated but good article and interview)


Sat down for a deliciously sweet and refreshing cold coffee and what might be the best fruit salad I've ever had (papaya, green grapes, banana, watermelon and pineapple). From Haridwar, I wrote that I thought I might blend in a little more in Mumbai... mission accomplished! So many young westerners in Leopold's that if it weren't for the Indian staff and ceaseless honking outside (though shockingly, there's less here than where I've come from: only about 1 per second, rather than 5 or 6 overlapping at once) I could have been sitting in a cafe in the plateau. And out in the streets, it's the most multi-cultural place I've been yet (by Indian standards, at least). Very little staring, barely stand out at all :) I feel like I'm walking on clouds as I make my way down the streets, which are busy and crowded, but with calm, non-pushy vendors and tourists; and I glide gracefully and confidently through the oncoming traffic at chaotic intersections (where the street lights don't seem to make any sense at all) as if I'd been doing so for a lifetime. I have a strange and strong sensation of feeling at home here. And for a self-proclaimed non-city-girl, that's quite a statement! Must have spent significant time here in a past life ;)  


My pace was often slowed as I passed by book street vendors, but I was strong enough to resist coming to a full stop. Went from Leopold's to an internet cafe, intending - again - to write a blog post, but getting through e-mails and facebook messages took even longer than usual since I didn't sign in yesterday. I've even started my healing working through e-mail. As people read through my accounts of physical, mental and spiritual growth and discoveries, some feel compelled to ask me for advice on all of these fronts. I could easily spend the better part of every day on internet, writing blog posts, answering e-mails about what's going on back home, organizing my Swati fund, giving sought-after advice, staying in the loop through quick scrolls down my facebook feed, researching my next destinations, planning trip details with those who are coming to meet up with me, starting research for all I want to get underway when back home, watching inspiring video links sent through e-mail and facebook, and keeping up with my finances through online banking (and there's probably plenty more I'm not thinking of right now). But please, don't by any means take this comment as a subtle message not to keep me posted with your e-mails, "therapy" requests, link sharing, or other. I absolutely love receiving and responding to all of these. It's just to say that I'm keeping myself uber-busy, what with web stuff and discovering India. My days are pleasantly packed, and I just wish they were longer! Maybe I can try sleeping less??


So, spent an hour and half at internet this morning, went back to Carlton's to gather my bags and check-out at noon, found my way back to India's, checked into a ultra-basic but nice room that I'll share with Blaire tonight, then walked back out to write this post at a different internet cafe... and I've been here for over 3 hours!!! (My OCD makes me re-read each post when I'm done typing - and remember, I'm a slow reader -  to check for typos, edit vocab and fix or add details. Might save me some editor fees for my book!) Internet - along with everything else - is quite a bit more expensive here than in the north, so I kinda wish I had done the long photo-blog task from there! Well, I say everything's more expensive, but still so cheap by western standards.


Ok, I seriously thought this would be a quick and not too lengthy post, since it covers only about 10 hours of one day, but yet again, I've been carried away with words. (Possibly the longest post yet, I think.) I don't even want to think about how much time the account of yesterday will take me to write - and take you to read! As I prepare to click on the Publish Post tab, I'm realizing there's so much more about today that I forgot to include, but to let you get on with your day - and me with what's left of mine! - I'm going to wrap this up. 


Coming up next, a photo-blog (soon, soon, I promise), and as soon as I figure out how to condense my 26 pages of notes on yesterday's travels into a reasonably-lengthed post (I do, after all, have to save a few details and surprises for the memoir, otherwise none of you will feel the urge to read it!), a description of my journey from Haridwar to Mumbai. 


Can't stare at this screen any longer, so off to walk along the ocean waterfront for the first time, then dinner and a little relaxing before heading back through the busy streets for the hour-long ride to the airport, greeting Blaire who lands around midnight. I seriously hope she has some jet-lag to recover from, because after not much sleep last night, and going to bed in the wee hours of the morning tonight, I'm going to have some catching up to do myself. 


Excited to see her! For those who don't know, Blaire is my 18-year-old (I think...) cousin from my mom's side of the family, who I haven't seen in about 8 years. Lots of catching up and fun times ahead I'm sure!


Signing out from Colaba district, on Arthur Bunder Road, a block away from the ocean!