I had my share of Pad Thai there...

Thailand. Arriving in Bangkok, my first impression of this country was (in comparison to India) just like home. Pristine, glistening, modern airport; cool and comfy air-conditioned shuttle bus; signs and skyscrapers everywhere; traffic - staying confined to the painted lines; and 7-11's on every corner. This was going to be a comfortable place.

After settling in to our quiet guesthouse just off Kho San Road, we headed out to explore this new and intreaging place. The streets near Kho San were littered with food stalls, in addition to the clothing, DVDs, jewelery, wood carvings, and fish massage??? And then I saw it. The big round green and white sign that adorned many Tshirts in the nearby stalls. Starbucks. Now, over two months have passed since I've had a tall-half-sweet-non-fat-caramel-machiatto, of which most of you know I had become VERY accustomed to, very much TOO accustomed to. So it was really nice for those two months to forget that addiction while slowly developing a new addiction for chai in India. But when I saw that familiar mermaid logo, something took over me. It felt far too long over due.

With much heart-pumping caffeine flowing through our bodies, we continued wandering in the quest for the perfect Pad Thai. Now, it is nearly impossible to make a bad Pad Thai, it is basically fried noodles, tofu, egg and veg with some tasty sauces. I am really just using this "quest" thing to justify eating Pad Thai everyday, multiple times a day. And I think the quest ended later in Chiang Mai when I was able to learn how, in a cooking class, to make my own. I was then content that I would always be able to make the perfect Pad Thai.

Chiang Mai, in the far north of Thailand, only made Thailand more likeable. We stayed at an amazing guesthouse, wandered around many Wats, shopped at some local markets, and rented a scooter to explore nearby waterfalls. The landscape outside of town was luscious green, moutainous, and very peaceful.

Next was a trip to nearby Chang Thai Elephant Conservation Center. There are many places in Thailand to see and ride elephants, but this was a rehabilitation center where the elephants are treated as well as trained. After spending 2 days there with my very own elephant, Wadna, I can attest that the elephants have got it made at this place. A typical day began by hiking halfway up a mountain to retrieve Wadna (they slept in the forest everynight on a 100ft long chain) and riding her down to the watering hole where she would have her first of 3-4 baths for the day. Next was a hefty breakfast of bananas and sugarcane, followed by training her to let me up and down in several ways, pick up a stick, lay down, and walk on a log. Once that was done, it was time for bath number 2 and a live performance to show off her tricks and skills. She also painted pictures during the show...pretty cool. Probably the coolest thing we did n this whole trip. Check out the website at http://www.changthai.com/.

Before returning to Bangkok, we stopped at Sukhothai historical park, which had some amazing and beautiful ruins. We rented another scooter to explore the original capital of Thailand, which was worth it for the natural airconditioning alone. It was HOT there.

The rest of our time in Thailand was spent on the beaches of the island Koh Pha Ngan in the south, where we only had one day of rain(out of six), one coconut break through the roof of our hut in a storm, a few mosquito bites and umpteen dishes of Pad Thai. We rented yet another scooter and were able to explore the entire island and find the best beaches. White sand, palm trees, turquoise water, endless coral, absolute paradise.

I think everybody should visit Thailand at least once in their life if given the opportunity.

Incredible India

There are so may things I like about India, and in fact, they are the same things I liked before we got there...beautiful colorful saris, color everywhere really, the festivals, and the food; the sweet, spicy, creamy curry. But behind all of these things, what I saw was a sad, struggling, poverous and very corrupt country. There are so many people, and they are all just trying to make a living in whatever way they know how. Driving a rickshaw, selling jewelery or fabrics, guiding vulnerable tourists to their hotel (which will pay them a commission for each person they bring in). And behind each of these businessmen is a small home where a wife, children, siblings and even parents are waiting for them to bring home enough rupees to scrape by for another day. The people that are lucky enough to own a small peice of land or even a shop try to keep it as clean and tidy as they can, everyday dusting the dirt and garbage off the step to the side of the road. And after the cows and pigs and dogs have eaten any food or plant scraps or leftover marigold heads, it will eventually get brushed off the side of the road to off the side of a cliff, which is the only place it can end up and usually leads to a river or stream. The same river or stream where they may drink and bathe everyday. A giant avalanche of colorful plastic and wrappers and old clothes. Out of sight, out of mind. But for how long? How long until these millions of people get together and revolt against a government that can't even organize a simple waste collection system?

Arriving in Delhi (our last stop) we take a prepaid taxi, thinking we've finally figured out how to get by in this country...we make sure to hold onto the ticket until we've reached our destination, just like the back of the paper tells us to. We eventually arrive to the busy Pahar Ganj market area near our hotel, and the driver looks around...kind of like he might be lost. Instantly a crowd of men gather around to help him, and tell us her can't drive through the crowded streets, that we have to take a bike rickshaw. We look down the road and see a few cars so we hold our ground. "Just get us close and we will walk." He knows where he is going, it's in the Lonely Planet, first one on the list. He's done this whole routine before. So he sighs. says something in his native tongue along the lines of, "I've got a couple of smart ones back there!" and puts the car in drive.

We eventually get to a fork in the road. He signals for us to get out, it's a long way down the road, he points. Ironically, the same rickshaw driver is there again. We say we are walking and he points again. By now, we've learned to ask shopkeepers for directions; they have no reason to send you the wrong way, they want you to be able to find their store again easily and to remember them. We ask the first guy we see, and it turns out we've already walked too far, we were dropped off right around the corner to our hotel. The rickshaw would've taken us for a nice tour in a complete but confusing circle, with a couple stops at his brothers/uncles/fathers shop first.

There is an endless cycle of passing on the vulnerable tourist, each dishonest businessman after another, all earning a small (or large) commission off the next. It makes it really hard to accomplish even the most simple daily tasks. It also really wears your patience thin and starts to make you think of getting even. Nohing major, maybe just taking a hotel's newspaper after being mistreated and misled. (Just a random example...heh heh.) But it feels easier to begin to think this way when people take advantage of you everyday. And that's how it starts. Why even try anymore? If your neighbour, your friend, your boss are all trying to take a peice of your earnings, why wouldn't you try to take a peice of someone else's?

We're almost out of India on a bus to Nepal. We're dropped off at the border to spend the night, and then onto Kathmandu in the morning. Our group of 20 or so travellers get off the bus to walk to the border in the pitch black. After a 12 hour bus ride we had plenty of time to discuss how much of a sham "Paul's travels" and his "Deluxe bus" was and how we should've saved money and done it oursleves. As we approach the border we can make out the faces of 3 men by candlelight, scarfing down their dinners. A fourth man is handing out immigration forms. Just as we are finishing up, we notice two Japanese tourists from our group have been handed the wrong form (they weren't the only ones) they were handed an arrival form. Now, there was not another soul in sight besides our group all coming from the same side, so how the guy thought people were arriving??? I'm sure it was part of the master scheme. The paper man starts yelling, Ben and I watch curiously but cautiously. Basically he is blaming them and won't give them the correct "departure" form. He screams, "This is official government office, these forms have numbers!" and denies them new forms. At this point we can't help but step in, we're all in this together right? Strength in numbers! We say it must have been a mistake and couldn't he rip it up, or better yet just write VOID? "Official government papers, you give me 200 rupees!" he yells. Ben replies with the most clear and obvious response, "That's not fair..." but says it in the most gentle and juvenile way, like you would say to a three year old who wouldn't share a toy. We convince him that it was a mistake, and that they are sorry, and could they please have the proper form? He hesitates and finally gives in.

On to Nepal!

Onward to Uttar Pradesh

India, Incredible India. There is so much more to this country than I could ever imagine. When I last wrote we were on our way to Udaipur. With Diwali approaching, our travel plans got a little jumbled up with no reservations available, so we were able to spend a nice relaxing 6 days in this lovely lake laden town. In between all the somewhat quiet wandering we were lucky enough to experience Diwali, India's biggest, brightest and LOUDEST holiday! Diwali is the festival of lights, which visually looks a lot like Christmas, but audibly sounds like...dare I say it....a terrorist attack. Really, we had no idea there would be any kind of firecrackers, let alone giant deafening explosions that you could feel the force from 10 feet away. Not only that, the kids lighting them were as young as 4 or 5 years old, and would sometimes play "throw the bomb at the tourist to get a laugh". Luckily our hostel owner was nice enough to take us all out together in a group so at least we were all in the same boat. The same boat of horror that is. But once all the noise and smoke cleared (2 days later) it was a great experience. Everyone dressed up in their best, most colorful and glittery clothing, parading around the streets, avoiding crazy kids with bombs. And more fireworks than I have ever seen, from the rooftop of our hotel, all around me 360 degrees. Unreal!

We met two great Danes (not the dogs, people from Denmark) Rune and Jane, and continued on the same route to eventually meet up in Agra and Varanasi. It was great to meet other people on the same wavelength to laugh some of these things off with together. Agra was a brief stop just to see the Taj Mahal, breathtaking, expensively breathtaking. Then we were to catch a train to Varanasi, except the travel agent (Mr. Raj) recommended by the hotel which was recommended by the Lonely Planet ripped us off and we did not have a seat on the train, just a spot on the waiting list. This is not the last you will hear of this. Currently, we are dealing with the hotel to resolve this situation, so lets just say, "Mr. Raj, for someone who believes strongly in karma, you sure do deserve what's coming to you."

We hired a car to Varanasi, which was a luxurious and very fast alternative to the train. Back on schedule. Varanasi was one of the best experiences in India for me. Maybe this is partly because of the experience we gained from all of the previous encounters, or maybe the good Danish company, or it could be that it was the final stop in India and I wanted to hold on to the last moment. I'm realizing now (a week later) how quickly all the filth and pestering and bad experiences fade. Those are never the things you remember, which makes me even glader to have written them down here. But for me, Varanasi holds the most fold memory of India. Waking up at 5 am, walking down past the burning ghat where people come from miles away, to wait in line to be cremated into the Mother Ganges. And at this hour in the morning, nobody is hassling us for anything, our hotel has arranged a boat to watch people come down to the river to celebrate the rising of the sun for Ram Lila. It was absolutely silent, nobody is talking. Our boat is gliding gently past the crowded ghats piled with people in every glittering color of the rainbow. The are all holding offerings of food and flowers, and getting ready for the ritual bathing at sunrise. It was a sight that has been burned into my memory for all time. The crowds of people, the color, the excitement in their eyes to see the sun that morning, the spiritualistic offering to the Mother Ganges, it was beautiful.

A man later told me that "the Ganges must be a miracle because it is so polluted, yet millions of people bathing in it daily don't get sick. The Ganges is their mother, and mothers are never dirty." Believe what you will, but a certain Lonely Planet told me the river was declared septic, and I think the only reason they don't get sick is that they have built up an immunity to it. But it's a beautiful thought...crazy but beautiful. Truthfully, Varanasi was the dirtiest, smelliest, most polluted disgusting place I have ever seen, but that part of the memory is already fading.

Green Goa, Pink City, Golden Fort, Brahmin Blue

As I'm sure you've noticed, I have fallen behind on the blogging. So now, I will put things in to fast forward. After Mumbai we took a train to Goa. We were really looking forward to relaxing on the beach, and taking it easy for a week. We definately relaxed, but easy it was not.

Goa was very lush and green; a tropical paradise. We soon realized that the reason it was so lush and green was the rain. And not just normal rain, more of a late and long awaited for monsoonal rain. Our laundry took 4 days to dry, and still it was never actually dry. I also finally understand how useful "dusting powder" can be. But I am glad to have experienced a hint of monsoon. We also had some quick but exciting outings where we rented a scooter and explored beaches, markets, an old fort and a cool carving of Shiva's face in a rock.

Next, we flew up to Jaipur in Rajasthan. If there's one thing I like about the desert, it's being dry. Jaipur was loud, dirty, and smelled more like bathroom than any bathrooms I've ever been to. Everywhere. We explored the old town dubbed the "pink city" and it was certainly pink. We wandered through the endless markets (with absolutely everyone else in Jaipur as it was prime "shopping for Diwali" time) We also went to a few really cool forts: Amber and Nahargarh, the Water Palace and Galwar Bagh Temple (also called the monkey temple) where we saw 60 or so monkeys. I think monkeys are one of the only animals I'm a bit intimidated by (I've had a few encounters, one which included my elbow and a monkey's mouth) so multiply that intimidation by 60....they are very unpredictable! We also saw a cow with 6 legs...pictures hopefully coming soon!

After the pink city, we went far east into the Thar desert to Jaisalmer: the golden city. This was a much smaller town situated in and around a towering fortress. There is much controversy about the fort still being in use, what with overcrowding and drainage issues, but the fact that it has an ongoing purpose is what made it so loveable. The streets are narrow and winding and full of tailors, leatherwork, mirrorwork and embroidery. But what most people come to Jaisalmer for is the camel safaris. We decided to do a half day tour starting mid afternoon, ending up on the top of the dunes in time for sunset. There wasn't another person anywhere in sight. After sunset we were invited to sit with some chai and watch the preparation of our dinner. Rice, dahl, veg, and chapathi all fantastically cooked by fire. We sat under the stars and enjoyed some much needed silence, until our guide finished off the night with drumming and songs about rain. It was the best thing we've done so far.

As you've guessed from the title, we must now be headed to the blue city: Jodhpur. Originally, only the highest caste Brahmins could paint their house blue. But nowadays, all are indigo blue. We only had one night, which was just enough time to see another fort, a clocktower, and shop around for spice.

By this time, I am finally feeling at ease with "incredible India", the noise, the dirt, the crowded streets and traffic and loving every minute of it.

Time For Something New...

I left Egypt with a feeling of accomplishment, contentment, and relief. India conjured up swirly visions of a color, and fabric, and good food on every corner. We arrived at Mumbai airport a little timid (there are a lot of people travelling with facemasks these days) and were funnelled into a small hallway where people were being questioned about H1N1 symptoms. We later found out we had also walked past a thermal scanner that checked our temperature for a fever. This was both frightening and reassurring at the same time. We found our bags and were soon pleasantly surprised to sign after sign guiding us to help "Help stop touts and other illegal activity" and "make sure to get a prepaid taxi!" What a fantastic idea! Although it didn't stop the guy waiting just outside from grabbing our bags and putting them in the trunk (for a fee of course.) I think I've now just accepted that upon arrival in a new country, you will always be slightly vulnerable until you realize just how things work.

The un-airconditioned (this will come up again later to haunt me) cab ride was slightly cheaper, and I figured we could just have the windows down. We're on a budget right? Immediately dishevelled, shoeless, women with babies are at our windows begging, hungry, sincere. This was hard. Although their place of work was probably high-earning territory being just outside the airport gate. So were they sincere? I'll never know. Whatever the case, just beyond the airport are the same slums you've seen in that very recent and popular movie. This was even harder. Next, we got to the narrow, traffic-jammed streets of central Mumbai. We were stuck. Not moving. Tata trucks all around us. Lots of honking. Minimal breathing. No airconditioning. What a mistake. For another 30 rupees we could have avoided so many smells. So here we are sitting in thick, stinky traffic...windows wide open, like a beacon for people trying to get money from us. Note for next time: Get the airconditioning.

We finally got to Colaba, the popular touristy part of town. This was a bit more comfortable. We were near to the Gateway of India, and Taj Hotel, and the streets were lined with stalls selling everything imaginable. We settled into our overpriced hotel (everything is much more expensive in Mumbai than the rest of India), and took a deep breath of humid, hot air. Somehow I forgot the lesson we learned not only an hour ago and we tried one night without airconditioning. And when I say tried...we lasted only a few hours.

Over the next few days we explored many restaurants. It was incredibly exciting to see "veg restaurant" and "pure veg restaurants" EVERYWHERE! I will never go hungry in this country. One of our new discoveries is Thali. This is a large metal tray with small cups of various curries, rice, raita, and usually a dessert of rice pudding or galub jamun (basically warm timbuts in syrup). The Thali also comes with papadum bread or naan. Recently though, we've decided that if we each order Thali, there is far too much food to go around...and we were hoping to come home fitter, not fatter. But I'd better save some food talk for next blog.

By far, the coolest thing we saw in Mumbai was Elephanta Island. Now, there are no elephants on the island, it was named that because of a giant basalt sculpture of an elephant which was eventually moved (after being accidentally dropped into the sea) to the Victoria Museum in Mumbai. What's left on the island is tons of tropical trees, masses of monkeys, and some amazing ancient caves and temples. In each cave there are intricately carved sculptures of Shiva, Nataraja, and Ardhanarishvara. I will have to post a picture (that is not ours) for now as we havn't uploaded these pictures yet. But I have to say, Ben's pictures are far better than any I could find!

Excitedly Exiting Egypt

Okay, so I've got to stop with this alliteration title thing. It just seems to tie everything together so well. I will try to be more clever in the upcoming blogs, I promise.

Luxor was our next big destination, and we stumbled up to our hotel after a gruesome 17 hour overnight bus. The one and only upside was that our list of things to "Never Do Again" has grown a little longer. Which I guess has only made us stronger. Luxor was slightly cleaner, much densely populated, and had a great deal more to see and had a great deal more to see and do than Cairo.

We went on a felucca ride on the Nile, ascended into the tombs at the Valley of the Kings, went to a few great temples, and learned how to mummify just about anything at the (overpriced but still creepy cool) Mummy Museum. In between all this we were hassled by every man, woman and child we passed. I will try to go into detail about what I mean when I say hassled.

It first begins when you leave the hotel, "Taxi, taxi, taxi?" and you kindly say, "No thank you," only to find the next guy thinks you might have changed your mind, and it continues... The you get to the main road, "Carriage, carish? Good price!" You continue politely, "No thank you, we just want to walk." Now you are getting close to the river, "Felucca, boat ride, you looking for the ferry?" And it even seems a little helpful the first time, until you realize they are all standing right in front of the ferry terminal. So you decide maybe to avoid it and keep walking, but they are following you, still offering and they stick their arm out to guide you (which is sort of just an inconspicuous way of slowly trapping you at this point). Escape. This is now the only thing on your mind. Escape.

Eventually you find the beautiful shaded Souk where you can buy everything from spices to scarves to scarab souveniers. Granted, most people would come here looking to buy something, but on our budget we are just walking through this time. "Yes! You like, take a look! Come this way! Where from?" and finally "How can I take your money?" Now, the only reason I go into such great detail about this side of Egypt is to attempt to paint you the most vivid and real picture. It is so common to hear about all the amazing and positive experiences of somebody's travels (of which we have so many, don't get me wrong) but it is far more interesting to contrast those experiences with some of the opposite.

We experienced this side of the Egyptian tourism industry so often, it became increasingly repetitive. And through many discussions with Ben, we realized there are so many more factors at play. The first thing that came to mind is that most visitors to Egypt are passing through very briefly on a guided tour, where as we were able to get quite a bit closer, traveling independently. Secondly, tourism is one of the most vital contributors to their economy which means almost everybody has their hand in it in any way possible. And lastly, there is a clear language barrier. Many of the people that approached us only spoke a few select sentences in English. In certain areas you only hear the same 5 sentences over and over, and when we tried to converse more in depth, things were lost. For these reasons, I was able to step back and see things through a different lens, and accept that these are people just trying to make a living in whatever way they know how.

All in all, I am happy to have experienced Egypt, and I do encourage everyone to go there if they get the opportunity. But if you have the chance to spend a little more money, and go with an organized tour, I feel like this is the one (and only) place I would recommend to do that.

Diving (or snorkeling) in Dahab

We have travelled back across both borders to Egypt, sat on another bus for two or three hours, and came to a stop at our next destination: Dahab. From the back of the main strip of hotels and restaurants, the view was similar to most of the other cities we've visited in Egypt. Lots of garbage, some random goats or other animals wandering in the shade of the side of the road, lots of little shops selling drinks and chips, on an endless bed of sandy, gravel and dirt.

We checked into our hotel, which was by far the cleanest, most comforting place we've stayed yet (until the third day when the hundreds of miniscule ants found a trail to my backpack on the floor) Surprisingly, they went straight for my malaria pills which seem to have a tantalizing candy-coated scent. However, they did not make their way in. I will never put my bag on the floor again, despite how clean it appears to be.

Through to the "front" of the hotel we approach a long crescent shaped beach, lined with hotels and lanterned waterfront restaurants. A refreshing breeze and a relaxed atmosphere surround us. This place is a little peice of paradise.

The highlight of Dahab, by far, has been the snorkeling! The whole coast is lined with a seemingly endless coral reef. The water changes from crystal clear to tropical turquoise to a deep tranquil blue. There are so many different fish I couldn't keep track, spiky sea urchins, and every color of coral in the rainbow. We really lucked out coming here, it was a nice change of pace, for a while...

-- Posted from my iPhone