Your comments

Hey everyone,

Wanted you all to know that I do receive and read all the comments that you leave here, whether they show up online or not. I think blogger is a little buggy, so not everything posts for some reason, but I do get an email with them even if they don't post. And since I can't respond to those comments, here are just a few reply's before my next post on Varanasi (coming soon...it's intensity is still brewing in my head before I can put it into words.)

In no particular order:

Hannah...yes, I will be at the 70th celebration and we'll have a big photo presentation on the comfy leather couch in the den. We might even let Grandma attend!

Fumiko...you got me. I don't even know what a contaph really is, but i think it's another word for a dome. Have you tried wikipedia? No, I'm not the oldest backpacker. I can put up with it, but thank heavens I've been upgraded on my flight home to help me readjust.

Susan...I will take a picture of the next internet cafe i'm in. Right now, i don't have my camera, but there is an attached pool hall visible through the window. And there is a goat outside in the stairwell.

John T...you would not last 30 seconds in this country. I would do anything for a coach seat to Florida right now.

Jen...you'll be happy to know i'm going to Rishikish next. Don't worry- I have the secret map to the abandoned Ashram the Beatles were at when they were here. I love cardomon, too.

Mike...Thank god you sent the registration to me before I left. I got pulled over in Calcutta and the Indian cop demanded to see my registration. I thought it was odd cause I was on the bus, but hey, stranger things have happened in India!

Tony...tell your kids that if they could smell this place, they might think twice about coming.

Jana...so much to talk about you when I return, but I see why you keep coming back.

Carin...I had a naan tonight that left me speechless. Unlike any other naan i've had before. The saag was pretty mediocre. But that naan...

Keep em' coming!

My pack is my life

I've been officially in backpacker mode since the ride on the bus. Swapping out "moderately" priced hotels for "budget" guest houses, I've been able to meet other people on their own, doing the same thing as myself. The tradeoff of course is the little bit of luxury that would be welcoming, but it's all good.

Udaipur turned out to be one of my favorite places. I'm not sure if it was the city itself (which oddly prompted me to use the word "pretty" numerous times for the first time in a week) or the place I was staying. At the Lal Ghat Guest House (pictured above), I met loads of people traveling on their own, putting my measly 5 weeks to shame. The average backpacker leaves for 6 months, and some are on year 2, never wanting to go back. But the group gathered at Lal Ghat was special. It was comfortable and social, enough so that I didn't even mind my bathroom by the end of 4 days (in fairness, the best shower I've had in India. Hot and powerful.)

I took a day trip with a rickshaw driver I chatted with outside the guest house. Tiger (above left) was about 17 with excellent English. Never went to school at all- learned from talking to the tourists. He took me around in his rickshaw for a few hours to all the sites and waited for me in front, usually napping at the wheel upon my return. He had quite a sound system in his rickshaw and heads turned when we drove down the street. I finally had to tell Tiger "look, all these little gardens are pretty, but can we see something else please?" He then took me here:

This (above) is Ahar, and there are about 250 restored contaphs of the maharajas of Mewar here. Snowy domes built over 350 years ago. I'm not sure if the photo does it justice, but they were pretty cool to see.

The food in the south is a lot different than in the north. Gone are the fresh fish tandooris and abundant use of coconut (sorry gon-zales, i know you're upset) and In is the richer vegetable curry's with cream and butter. Both good, just different. You may think I'm sick of Indian food, but honestly, I really am not. The other day I had some pasta- the first non-Indian thing I've really ate in almost a month. It wasn't that good, and I actually missed the curry's- the bread, the rice, and the vege's. I've stayed completely vegetarian for most of the trip, except for the fish I ate in the south. In Udaipur, I went to a cooking class with 4 other people. Me, 2 Canadians (all above) and a 17 year old kid from Australia who looked like a better looking Yahoo-Serious (who??). The guy who taught it was hilarious and is kind of an institution in Udaipur. We learned chai tea, bread, biryani, and 2 curry's. Then we got to eat it all.

I left Udaipur and headed for another lovely bus ride to a town called Pushkar. The guidebook used words like "magical" and "enchanting." After two days, and countless people harrassing me, I've renamed it Pushy. Ok, the lake is nice, and I like the place I'm staying, but I've never seen more flies in my life. They wont fucking leave me alone. You may be saying, well that must be everywhere in India. True, but this seems worse. It's supposed to be very religious here, so there is no alcohol or eggs or meat (although Yougurt and milk is allowed. huh?) They also close up the town at 10pm and it's silent. I went to eat with a couple of Irish girls the last two nights. One of them was wearing a slightly clad outfit. She was gawked at by everyone, and then a local man came over to her and said "your dress is too short, and you need to cover your shoulders. This is a holy place." A bit defeated, she treated herself to a bhong lassi and everything was fine for all of us (can you tell from the picture?)

The town is full of hippies, evidenced by the Pink Floyd Hotel. Notice their slogan "Wish You Were Here" in the first picture. In the second, notice the children around the dog taking a crap. India is full of shit to photograph, literally. When I was driving through Rajasthan with Angie, she put her iPod on and showed me that she was listening to Dark Side of the Moon. I laughed, and she said something about how it just didn't feel right. Well Angie, if you had come to Pushkar, you would have fit right in.

I took a short trek up one of the mountains to this castle with 360 views of Pushkar and the surrounding desert. It was just about sunset and I was sweating like a lunatic. I got a big cold water and took the shot above and below (same photo, with and without the puppy, which seemed to really like posing!) and one other after these two.

There are two very important things I've learned about Indian Hotels. If they use the word Oasis, it's definitely not. If they use the word Palace, it's either too expensive or a shithole. My point is evidenced by the photos here of the Oasis Hotel and Pushkar Palace.

Today I leave Pushkar for the long overnight journey (by train, thank god) to a town called Varanasi. I hear it's pretty intense. This is the last of the desert shot before I head inland and to the mountains. Namaste.

The Bus

"Take the government bus" he said. "The government bus? What about the private bus? The one with reclining seats and a/c?" I replied. "The government bus to Udaipur is just as good."

This was the conversation I had last night with the guy from my hotel in Jodhpur. I mean, I assumed he should have the experience from being at the hotel and talking to people all these years about such things. The sign above the reception desk said "bus, train and plane tickets here." The guide book didn't say too much, so I needed some help. He said neither buses had a/c, and the government bus was just as good. I said "can you check on the times of the private bus please?" "Ok" he said, and proceeded to make some calls. A few minutes later he tells me "The private bus from Jodhpur to Udaipur is at 7am and 3pm. It's 160 rupees ($3.50)." I said "How much is the government bus?" He said "140 rp." "7:30am?" I replied, "ok, can you get me a ticket on the 7:30am private bus, please?" He tells me "Ok, I'll have it for you in hour." Great.

A couple hours later I come back to the hotel at about 10:30. Everyone who works there is asleep (meaning the whole family and then some.) I try to find the guy, but can't. I wake what appears to be the grandfather, who only speaks Hindi. "Bus ticket" I say. "I need my bus ticket for tomorrow." Another guy finally comes out and tells me the usual Indian line "don't worry." Yeah, don't worry. I tell him "my bus is early, when is the ticket going to be here?" He says, "come here at 6:45 and I'll have it. Don't worry."

I'm worrying. I wake up at 6am, shower, pack my pack, and look for someone to give me the ticket. No one is awake. The entire family is asleep in various places throughout the hotel- the roof, the stairs, the hallway. I finally find the guy and he tells me "the bus is full. No ticket." I'm tired and confusion sets in so I say "No ticket? I'm already up? Why didn't you tell me last night?" He says "You were sleeping."

"So what should I do?" I say. He says "there is a government bus at 11." I ask "what time will I get there?" "3 or 4." I sigh, and try to go back to sleep.

I wake u again, eat something, and grab a rickshaw over to the government bus station at about 10:10 for the 11am bus. Of course, there is no 11am bus. There's a noon bus. But there's also one at 10:30, so I scramble and get the ticket and run to the bus I think is mine. "Udaipur?" I say to anyone who will listen. I think it's the right bus. I get on, and you'd think I was dressed like the burger king or something. EVERYBODY looks at me while I head to the back with my head down. They're all Indian, and there I am with my backpack on the shittiest bus you've ever seen. I sit down in an aisle seat (just in case they mistake me for Kate Blanchett in the window, and realize that this is going to be a long 6 or 7 hours.

My godmother Barbara is hilarious. She always tells us some great stories. One that I'll never forget is the valium tale, which I"ve thought of many times on this trip. She was in China, it was hot and miserable, and she was getting bitten up by mosquitos. It was horrible. All us kids are gathered around while she recites the story to us, holding in bated breath for the details. "What did you do???" we all asked. "What did I do? I took a 10mg valium and forgot about everything."

A valium would have been nice, but no avail. It's a good thing, because although it was a pretty hellish bus ride, it was fascinating. Indians really want to talk to me. They're intrigued. But the problem is that many of em don't speak English, so they just get close to you, stare, and ask you "where from?" That's about as far as most conversations get. Of course, when this happens, and a conversation is started, everybody leans in to hear the details. It's as if I have the answer to the science test or something. It's quite entertaining, really.

All was fine on the bus, until about 6 hours in. We're going up this mountain and all of a sudden there is this burst in the engine. The bus stops, and we sit on the side of this mountain for the next 2 hours while the driver tries to repair it. I have no idea what's going on, so I finally ask this one guy if he speaks English. He happens to be a tour guide in Udaipur. Yes! We talk for a couple of hours, and he's awesome. He tells me that they can't fix the engine cause they don't have a knife. I pull out my swiss army knife, and 10 mins later we're on our way. Lee Kline has just saved the day for 50 Indians.

The bus finally gets going again, and we all get back on. Nobody is looking at me too much anymore, and I think they agree that I'm ok in their book. 15 mins later, the bus stops again and everyone starts getting off the bus on the side of the mountain. My guide had hitched a ride and abandoned me, so I'm on my own. I follow everyone as they're getting off and onto another bus, apparently a replacement. I'm the last one on and spend the next 2 hours in the stairwell at the front. Again, with a packed bus, I'm the star attraction. An old man with a long beard who's smoking something odd gestures for to come up front and sit near him and the driver. There's a bit of an opening for me. I oblige, and now get to sit. But it's frightning up front watching the bus driver pass people and honk constantly. I'm starting to loose my sense of humor since it's been about 10 hours. When the fuck are we getting to Udaipur?? How much longer can it be? Ok, Lee, calm down. Where do you have to go anyway? I calm down and and relax when we finally pull over a hill and this view of Udaipur comes into view:

I took my camera out and tried to take a picture, but it wasn't working. So the bus driver sees this and actually stops the bus so I can get a good shot! Yeah, he stops the bus with 100 people on it just so I can get a shot. I lean out the window, point and shoot and duck back in. A man says to me "you get good?" I say "yeah, i got good."

The Solo Traveler

I just wrote this whole blog, and then my screen went dead, so I'm gonna try this one more time. The last version was probably a lot more enthusiastic, but I only have a short time before this place closes, so here goes.

This is Jodhpur, the blue city. This was taken from atop the fort that's high above the town. I like this city. It's a little calmer and more manageable then the other cities I've been to (which isn't saying much for India, but every bit helps.)

In Jodhpur there is a guy who has a stand that only makes Omelettes. He goes through over 1500 eggs a day! His specialty is this one with saffron, cardomon, and red chilis. It was delicious.

Also here is a special lassi drink they make. This one has Shayne's name all over it. Yogurt, saffron, cardomon and a big wad of whipped butter on the top! I felt my arteries closing as it went down.

We left Jodhpur for Jaisalmer. This is all the way east in the dessert, and about 50km from Pakistan. Angie and I went on a camal ride in the sunset through the dunes, which was pretty nice. The kid who took us was like 15, and would make the camel fart. Since I was riding behind, it wasn't so funny.

A little shopping, and an overwhelmed Angie in the blanket store. You can see her head spinning from trying to make a decision.

Cows are everywhere here. They're all over the street, just wondering through traffic and sitting in medians. This one pulled up to the local stand for something to eat. People don't even seem to notice them.
I took this from our hotel in Jaisalmer. This is the fort, which looks like an oasis when you arrive to it after driving hours through nothing in the desert. It's a great little city, and I see why people like it so much.

We stayed in this 300 year old haveli that was pretty cool, especially after staying in some pretty scary places. This is where I coined the phrase

"There's clean, and then there's Indian clean. Two completely different meanings of the word"

This place was definitely Indian clean, but I'll take it.

Angie left today, and I am officially a solo traveler. I head to Udapur tomorrow, and hit the road with all the backpackers. More to come soon.

(by the way, the last version of this posting was a lot more inspired. Kim, why isn't there a damn command-Z on a PC???)

The Spell

Angie told me that Bill Clinton says there are 2 kinds of people in the world. Those who have seen the Taj Mahal, and those who haven't. That really says it all. It's like nothing I've ever encountered. Something about the shape and the color, and the way the light just hits it. Amazing. Keith had asked for a few pics of it, so here's another one.

Today I really felt like I was in India. All the talk about filth and the negatives gave way to feeling comfortable here. We arrived in Rajasthan yesterday, which is a state mostly in the desert. it's enormous and there is tons to see. In Jodhpur, it all came together. Millions of people everywhere, cows and goats and dogs on the street, the overwhelming feeling you're soimewhere you've never been before. The market was full of activity- people selling everything, and colors that were out of control. It wasn't stressful, it was exciting. I finally got it.

We stayed in Jaipur yesterday at a guest house run by this awesome couple. The man, who went be "the Colonel" was a really interesting guy.

I mean, look at him! I went in last night to ask to use his computer. We started talking and ended up chatting for 2 hours (I never even got to go online!) One of the stories he told me was really enlightning. He said there was a guy that started staying with him almost every year about 10 years ago. All his friends always ask him why he always wants to go to India. They say it's dirty, it's crowded, it's hot, there are mosquitos. All the same things people said to me! But these people have never been here! What they all don't see is the good stuff- the genuineness of the people, the honesty, the respect for one another, the colors, the food. I think I totally get it now.

Ok, so it's dirty. And it's crazy. And it's chaotic. True. And nothing better makes this point then this picture:

What do you do when you're looking for something with a sign like this?

Today when we were driving, we saw this truck full of people in the back:

But look closer at the picture below. We were shocked to see filmmaker Al Maysles with the group!

And here's one more, just cause I like the picture.

Thanks to everyone for writing to me on the blog. It's really cool to hear from you all. When Angie leaves on Saturday I've got almost 3 weeks by myself. Keep em coming.

Photos

As evidenced by Shayne and Susan's obsession with magazines like Star and US Weekly, pictures obviously speak a thousand words. I chose a few here that I thought were worth sharing.

Fumiko had asked for some food pictures. The Tandoori Red Snapper, naan and rice pictured above was so good, we had it 3 times from the same place. We were in Goa at the beautiful Paloem beach, where it was truly picture perfect. Marcia and I might wager to say one of the top beaches in the world. The drawback being that it was undeveloped and we felt like we were camping (Angie had a bit of a shock when she walked into the bathroom for the first time, as we all did.) But the food in Goa was unbelievable, not just the fish above, but some curry's that were out of this world.

This shot would be better if you could smell it. This was in Cochin in Souther India (in the state of Kerala.) What you see on the ground is all ginger, drying in the sun. The aroma was lovely and a nice contrast on some of the other smells we had been privy to (I wont share that with you right now.)

This one was taken from the houseboat on the Kerlala rivers. It was just another day in the life...many people either bathing or doing laundry, as this woman is. One of the great things I was looking to forward to in India was the colors, as evidenced here by the contrast of her blue sarong against the muted background.

These two were taken in Paloem. Marcia and Angie enjoy some massage on the beach (don't they look relaxed?) I belive this cost them almost 25 cents for 20 minutes! Sonia, the girl above, came by often while we were on the beach to sell us her trinkets- bracelets and necklaces and crap like that. Marcia tried bargaining with her and the conversation went like this:

Marcia: "Let me see that one. How much?"

Sonia: "200 Rupees."

Marcia: "That's too much. I'll give you 100."

Sonia: "That below my cost. 200."

Lee: "Where did she learn the term below my cost??"

After the morning Yoga. I got to bring all the mats back.

I miss you all.

lee

Beauty and the Filth

Several years ago, my good friend David Phillips and I were in a restroom in Las Vegas (at least I think it was Las Vegas.) We went to wash our hands after taking care of some business when David shared some useful information with me. He told me that to truly clean your hands you have to wash with hot water and soap for at least two minutes. "2 minutes?!?" I exclaimed. "Yes, that's what they say." 30 seconds went by, and I pondered the thought until we hit the paper towel dispenser. I asked David "Do you really wash for two minutes? That would take forever!" He said, "No, but that's what they say you should do". I've gone to bed this past week thinking about the two minute rule and I've decided that the minimum here should 5 minutes. I wonder what David thinks.

I'm now in Goa. The first thing to mention is that is not nearly as filthy here as in the south. All things being relative, it's actually quite clean. Paloem beach is beautiful. It's off the beaten track, and on what they call the "independent traveler route". I believe that's because it's not built up, and it's a time consuming process to get there. But it's picture perfect- hot, but not humid...clear warm water...palm trees swaying onto the beach. When I spoke to Keith on the phone last night at about 6:30, I said I was going to take a picture while we were talking so he could be here with me. The one above was that picture.

Goa was the place that opens the Bourne Supremecy (or Identity, I can't remember, but it's the second one. They're hiding away in huts at the beginning and then there is a chase scene on some bridge...). Here is the hut we're staying in on the left (with a nice cold shower!)

The food in Goa deserves some mention here. It's truly incredible. Tandoori fish and curry's that words here cannot descibe. If you could be at the table while Marcia and I are eating, you'd get the point ("this is sooo fucking good" or "how do they make this?" or "the nan is so fluffy but crispy." Angie arrives today from Delhi, and after going to this same restaurant twice that we can't get enough, we'll take her there for dinner.