Friday, February 25, 2011
Post #6 - Darjeeling & Bangkok (Part 1)
Namaste.
We'll have to come up with a new greeting for our next entry. We're in Bangkok now and leaving late tomorrow for a week of well deserved R&R on the beaches of Ko Phangan and Ko Tao.
However, for the moment we go back to India, which did not let us go so easily. Our last stop on the subcontinent was Darjeeling, a preferred hill station of the British Raj during the brutal summers in Calcutta. We got off our ridiculous train ride and took a beautiful 3 hour jeep up 6,850 feet to our hotel. Again these roads are not for the faint of heart but it was exhilarating and simply gorgeous. Once we reached Darjeeling, however, there was heavy cloud cover and you couldn't see much of the surrounding area. It was also cold. February is the down season up in the mountains because of this, and we had to prepare ourselves for the possibility of not seeing the Himalayas. There was also a serious strike looming, one which we only found out about half way up the mountain. We'll get to more of that in a minute. We walked all over Darjeeling our first full day, but again it was overcast so the setting was not ideal. We both enjoyed the city in spite of this, and of all the places we've been, Darjeeling is the one we would definitely come back to (along with Udaipur and Rathambore NP). It feels a world apart from "the plains" as locals call it. The population is ethnically Tibetan and Nepali, but I guess most understand Hindi do to the government run education. The people are also beautiful. Anyway, as it was getting dark it started to hail, so we knew the only thing left to do in Darjeeling at that moment was to go to a bar. There weren't many open due to the strike, but we found a hole in the wall right across the street from our hotel. This ended up being one of our best experiences with locals the entire month. Drinking in the aptly named Bar was a journalist, an English teacher and World Wildlife Federation worker. We watched the hail come down and then sparked a two hour conversation on a wide range of topics, from the political situation to Aryans (thought to have originated from India) and ancient history to the god of rain. The strike was about local sovereignty. The people feel under represented by the huge state of West Bengal, which stretches all the way down to Calcutta. Darjeeling brings in big tourist dollars, but doesn't get any benefits from it. Also as we mentioned earlier the people are not really Indian, and are very different physically and culturally. The new state would be called Gorkhaland. Three protesters were killed after the West Bengal police opened up on the crowd a week before we arrived. This happened far away from Darjeeling, in the local capital of Siliguri. Darjeeling remains a safe place, but we think the authorities (and therefore papers) try to hurt the area by saying it's unsafe to travel. Luckily for us the strike officially ended the day we got there and started again the day after we left. Moving away from politics, we noticed the hail had turned to rain. The local barmen prayed with us to the god of rain, Varuna, as it is often clear the morning after a heavy rain. It worked. We woke up early and were dumbfounded by what we saw. We were told our hotel had the best views in town, but we couldn't tell until that moment. The world's third highest point, on top of Mount Kanchenjunga (27,400 feet), was staring us in the face. It was fantastic. Like we said we would have liked Darjeeling even if we didn't see this breathtaking view, but that's really what we came to see. We highly recommend going to the Himalayas if you get the chance. Darjeeling is nice too because you can drink the "champagne of tea" while you take them in.
We set off back down the mountain for our last Indian overnight train to Calcutta, where we caught a three hour flight to Bangkok. The only problem was we caught the 1:30am flight (the next day) instead of the 12:20pm flight we had booked previously. Supposedly this line was "always" on time, but when we woke up at 6am on the train our berth neighbor told us we were delayed three hours. Of course the train ahead of us derailed and we got to Calcutta over five hours late. 6 and a half hours is not enough time to give yourself in this country to get from the main train station to the airport. The ticket agent was not helpful and seemed delighted to inform us we needed to book a new reservation. We lost $175 each in the ordeal. Not the end of the world but still frustrating when we were so excited to reach Bangkok. We got a little stir crazy waiting for our flight but we did make it to Bangkok.
From the moment we touched down we knew we were on what seemed to be a different planet. The airport was modern, and they had proper highways (with lanes and everything!). We got to our guest house exhausted at 7am, and the staff quickly got a room ready and let us sleep. We're only being charged for two nights instead of the original three had we made it 12 hours earlier. Our guest house, Sri Ayutthaya, is amazing. It's $15 a night but everything a backpacker could ever wish for. After walking a while yesterday and seeing the New Orleans-esque Khao San Road, we just lounged around and fully revelled in the fact we were in Thailand. Today we did the central attractions, such as Wat Pho, Wat Arun and the Grand Palace, all of which are impressive in their own right. We also spent some time cruising the river and eating a cheap dinner from the food stalls of Chinatown. We have another full day tomorrow, and the weekend market just north of us sounds enticing.
We're not sure how interesting the next blog will be as we'll literally be sitting on a beach everyday. This could prove very interesting, however, as we welcome our first visitor (Fletcher) to the fray. For anyone who knows Fletch, you know what we mean.
That's all for now, we'll write again in a week's time.
Ciao,
S&P
We'll have to come up with a new greeting for our next entry. We're in Bangkok now and leaving late tomorrow for a week of well deserved R&R on the beaches of Ko Phangan and Ko Tao.
However, for the moment we go back to India, which did not let us go so easily. Our last stop on the subcontinent was Darjeeling, a preferred hill station of the British Raj during the brutal summers in Calcutta. We got off our ridiculous train ride and took a beautiful 3 hour jeep up 6,850 feet to our hotel. Again these roads are not for the faint of heart but it was exhilarating and simply gorgeous. Once we reached Darjeeling, however, there was heavy cloud cover and you couldn't see much of the surrounding area. It was also cold. February is the down season up in the mountains because of this, and we had to prepare ourselves for the possibility of not seeing the Himalayas. There was also a serious strike looming, one which we only found out about half way up the mountain. We'll get to more of that in a minute. We walked all over Darjeeling our first full day, but again it was overcast so the setting was not ideal. We both enjoyed the city in spite of this, and of all the places we've been, Darjeeling is the one we would definitely come back to (along with Udaipur and Rathambore NP). It feels a world apart from "the plains" as locals call it. The population is ethnically Tibetan and Nepali, but I guess most understand Hindi do to the government run education. The people are also beautiful. Anyway, as it was getting dark it started to hail, so we knew the only thing left to do in Darjeeling at that moment was to go to a bar. There weren't many open due to the strike, but we found a hole in the wall right across the street from our hotel. This ended up being one of our best experiences with locals the entire month. Drinking in the aptly named Bar was a journalist, an English teacher and World Wildlife Federation worker. We watched the hail come down and then sparked a two hour conversation on a wide range of topics, from the political situation to Aryans (thought to have originated from India) and ancient history to the god of rain. The strike was about local sovereignty. The people feel under represented by the huge state of West Bengal, which stretches all the way down to Calcutta. Darjeeling brings in big tourist dollars, but doesn't get any benefits from it. Also as we mentioned earlier the people are not really Indian, and are very different physically and culturally. The new state would be called Gorkhaland. Three protesters were killed after the West Bengal police opened up on the crowd a week before we arrived. This happened far away from Darjeeling, in the local capital of Siliguri. Darjeeling remains a safe place, but we think the authorities (and therefore papers) try to hurt the area by saying it's unsafe to travel. Luckily for us the strike officially ended the day we got there and started again the day after we left. Moving away from politics, we noticed the hail had turned to rain. The local barmen prayed with us to the god of rain, Varuna, as it is often clear the morning after a heavy rain. It worked. We woke up early and were dumbfounded by what we saw. We were told our hotel had the best views in town, but we couldn't tell until that moment. The world's third highest point, on top of Mount Kanchenjunga (27,400 feet), was staring us in the face. It was fantastic. Like we said we would have liked Darjeeling even if we didn't see this breathtaking view, but that's really what we came to see. We highly recommend going to the Himalayas if you get the chance. Darjeeling is nice too because you can drink the "champagne of tea" while you take them in.
We set off back down the mountain for our last Indian overnight train to Calcutta, where we caught a three hour flight to Bangkok. The only problem was we caught the 1:30am flight (the next day) instead of the 12:20pm flight we had booked previously. Supposedly this line was "always" on time, but when we woke up at 6am on the train our berth neighbor told us we were delayed three hours. Of course the train ahead of us derailed and we got to Calcutta over five hours late. 6 and a half hours is not enough time to give yourself in this country to get from the main train station to the airport. The ticket agent was not helpful and seemed delighted to inform us we needed to book a new reservation. We lost $175 each in the ordeal. Not the end of the world but still frustrating when we were so excited to reach Bangkok. We got a little stir crazy waiting for our flight but we did make it to Bangkok.
From the moment we touched down we knew we were on what seemed to be a different planet. The airport was modern, and they had proper highways (with lanes and everything!). We got to our guest house exhausted at 7am, and the staff quickly got a room ready and let us sleep. We're only being charged for two nights instead of the original three had we made it 12 hours earlier. Our guest house, Sri Ayutthaya, is amazing. It's $15 a night but everything a backpacker could ever wish for. After walking a while yesterday and seeing the New Orleans-esque Khao San Road, we just lounged around and fully revelled in the fact we were in Thailand. Today we did the central attractions, such as Wat Pho, Wat Arun and the Grand Palace, all of which are impressive in their own right. We also spent some time cruising the river and eating a cheap dinner from the food stalls of Chinatown. We have another full day tomorrow, and the weekend market just north of us sounds enticing.
We're not sure how interesting the next blog will be as we'll literally be sitting on a beach everyday. This could prove very interesting, however, as we welcome our first visitor (Fletcher) to the fray. For anyone who knows Fletch, you know what we mean.
That's all for now, we'll write again in a week's time.
Ciao,
S&P
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Post #5 - Delhi, Varanasi, and Overnight Train Journeys
Namaste All!
The last five days have been a true roller coaster ride, so sit back with your cup of coffee and enjoy our latest installment.
We last left you taking in the gracious hospitality at the Master Gust House in the Indian capital. The owner Avnish, his children, and wonderful staff helped us recover from several tiring days in Agra and Rajasthan. There are only five rooms here while Avnish and his family live downstairs, so it's a very intimate stay. We met some wonderful people each day as we sipped coffee or ate a meal in the communal kitchen, which sometimes doubled as a makeshift bedroom.
Since we had such trouble getting in from Agra, we really only had two days to see the city. Obviously this is not enough time for such a big place. It rained hard (first of our trip) both days to boot, at least in the mornings until about 1pm. This limited what we could do. Apparently Avnish gives "Hidden Delhi" tours of the old city like no other, and he couldn't do it due to the rain and mud. He did bring us to the daily wholesale flower market, however, and this was great. After seeing it we assume one exists in every city (where else do the bodegas on every corner in NYC get all those fresh flowers daily?), but it was a first for us. We enjoyed the atmosphere at 7am between the amazing aromas, colors, and haggling.
Other than that we spent a day walking around New Delhi and Old Delhi, respectively. New Delhi consists of all the old Raj (British controlled) architecture and now the power base of the country. There are some impressive buildings in the area that look in many ways like the capital of a powerful western nation. It is clean, quiet, and green. The Commonwealth Games were here just this past summer, so we're not sure if this has something to do with the sanity, but it was nice to walk around. Old Delhi is just that; old. It is a maze of streets where you could easily lose yourself for an afternoon. We did just that and stumbled upon Karim's, an Old Delhi restaurant spanning 4 generations. We gorged. Besides gawking at the largest mosque in Asia, we also experienced our first Sikh temple. We both enjoyed this very much. There is a lot of energy here. Sikhs are highly devout but also known for their generosity. After removing our shoes and washing our hands and feet, we had our heads wrapped as we entered the temple. The place was consistently packed with devotees as they formed almost an assembly line to give thanks. We sat and took it all in for a while. We're aware of the whole Indira Gandhi thing, but being in that temple it didn't seem like these people would ever be capable of violence. They are so giving they have a huge kitchen attached where anyone can come and get a meal for free, even us.
We also got stuck in the most ludicrous traffic jam on the way to the train station. The vehicles surrounding us would make you laugh. They ranged from buses to just a guy walking with his mobile produce stand in one of 12 illegal lanes that often form at red lights. After making our train safely, we proceeded at a snail's pace to Varanasi. Our 12 hour ride turned into a 21 hour journey.
Varanasi is one of our favorite places so far. Sandwiched in between two long overnight train dates, we didn't expect to relax as much as we did. It's obviously an extremely holy place, and we let ourselves go with the vibe of the city. Our first morning we got up at 6am and got into a boat with a lovely British couple (later whom we enjoyed a Kingfisher or two with) and cruised the famous Ganges and its ghats. You can see the pictures but the experience was surreal. After an hour we departed the boat and walked a short distance to one of the burning ghats. We didn't know exactly how we would feel about it or even how we should feel about it. We still don't, but it was powerful. Quick rewind. Ghats are simply steps that lead down into holy water, like those you saw in the Pushkar photos. The burning ghats are specific to Varanasi. This is the holiest place in Hinduism, the oldest place on earth created by Shiva, the god of destruction. Many people come here to die, if they can afford it. It is believed that if you are cremated on the Ganges' banks and your ashes are scattered into the water, your soul will be purified. For lucky souls, the cycle of rebirth ends and Nirvana is reached. You're not allowed to take photos, nor would we want to, but as we walked up there was a body being put on to a new pyre. This goes on 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Don't quote us but we heard as many as 500 cremations a day take place at this one particular ghat alone.
We spent the rest of our time relaxing on the rooftop restaurant of our hotel. It was nice and was directly on the Ganges, and we were able to take in all the action without getting up. We got our first good dose of kite racing here. 6 or 7 young boys scattered on various rooftops throughout the city were facing off, trying to cut the others' lines. Overall Varanasi was an enjoyable and eye-opening stop. The only downside was our room. Being USD9 a night we shouldn't have been surprised, but it was literally like sleeping on concrete. Pat was cranky about this so Shauna proactively solved the problem for our second night. We're not sure if it came at the expense of another room, but Shauna managed to nab two mattress pads airing out in the sun on a banister. Pat knew she had done something wrong when she came sprinting and huffing through our room door barely able to carry the heavy pads. Kudos; we slept well. We couldn't stop laughing between this and Pat falling hard on the street. We were led to the hotel the previous night by a guy on speed trying to get us onto one of his tours the following day. It was late and we were exhausted by the 21 hour marathon so we let him lead us through the maze of narrow streets. At one point Pat apparently thought this dog was rabid and was going to bite him. He warily watched the pup, unaware there was a large and sharp stone step approaching on the side walk. Before he could react he hit the step and lunged forward at great speed since the pack was on his back. As our tour guide and Shauna turned Pat rolled right and nailed the stone street before flailing around on his back. It was a fairly epic fall. As we're writing this we're realizing it's possible that both of these stories are "had to be there" kind of stories, but at least now we'll remember them and we can reenact later.
The great story we save for last. Keep in mind that this all took place on a train over the course of 19 hours. So we get wait listed for the train from Varanasi to Darjeeling, just like from Udaipur to Agra. This was a big blow as there was only one train a week from Varanasi to Darjeeling, and if we didn't get on we would have missed the Himalayas. We hoped to try the same thing we did in Udaipur, which was to sweet talk our way onto an A/C Chair Class. Unfortunately this train didn't have an A/C Chair, only 2nd A/C Sleeper, 3rd A/C Sleeper, and Sleeper. Every single one of these seats was spoken for. Being the ridiculous, stubborn people we are, we went through time consuming process of filing a report with the tourist office and the station police to see if they could help us get on the train. Certain elements being lost in translation, we ended up getting a hard written letter stamped by the station police saying we had lost two tickets in 2nd A/C and to have the train ticket collector do everything in his power to get us on. After 20 minutes of back and forth with the collector on the platform (not to mention with the crowd of noisy men that always appears whenever a commotion erupts), he said with some finality, "Not possible". As the train started to move, the collector jokingly told us we could get on the Sleeper class with no seat, but pay the fare plus a small fine. We need to explain the trains classes a little here. Most foreigners do 2nd A/C or possibly even 3rd A/C. They are not great when comparing with Europe, but they are certainly doable. In these berths you are sharing compartments with small business owners, teachers, etc. Rarely does anyone dare to take general Sleeper class (at least on long overnight journeys), which is what the majority of Indians take. The ticket collector was mostly joking when he said this figuring we would not run and jump into what looks from the outside a cattle car. There are prison-like bars on the windows. He was wrong, however. We made a rash, split-second decision, and Pat screamed, "Let's do it". Shauna didn't hesitate, and ran at good speed to catch a door and jumped through, knocking this poor guy over from the momentum and weight of her pack. Pat followed just in time, and we turned around to see 300 of the most curious sets of eyes we had ever seen.
We took a deep breath and took a seat in between cars on the floor next to the bathroom. We quickly thought we made a bad decision. The facilities are gross, and the smell in these areas foul. Indian-style bathrooms is enough said. Anyway, one of the vendors selling Chai took an interest in us and led us to some proper seats. There was plenty of room and two beds on top that were empty. At 4pm, we calmed down and started to think it would be OK. At 7pm, we stopped at some place called Ballia and all hell broke loose. Waves of Indians ran onto the car screaming and chucking luggage this way and that. We quickly retreated up into the top bunks and tried to stay out of site. It didn't last long. Men were screaming at each other and then at us, demanding our tickets. We had nothing but some random hand written letter, but we didn't show it. We simply pointed to the numbers indicating the beds we were on, saying the ticket collector told us to sit there. Somehow this placated the riotous crowd in our section as we all agreed to wait for the collector to come around and check tickets. Luckily for us the collectors are not efficient and did not make it to us for several hours. Meanwhile, in other sections of the car things were getting physical. A man without an assigned bed (like us) was getting hit by a crowd of men when he refused to move. The man ended up moving quickly, but you can believe it made us uncomfortable. It got even more interesting when a group of men dressed like women came through randomly punching young men all over their bodies. Someone later explained that they were hermaphrodite prostitutes, and they often target young men to beg for money on trains. Apparently the young men often give them a rupee or two as they would rather that then be assaulted by these people. The look on Shauna's face was indescribable. We were put more at ease when we realized they had no interest in Pat we can only guess because of his skin. We had to think of our seating situation first anyway, so on the train rolled. We took the time before the collector came to make nice with the people who's seats we were in. A majority of them we around our age and were returning from a wedding. They were in a good mood and the "white celebrity" persona finally paid off. As time went on and more information came out, they realized we were in their seats but liked us too much (we're sure they needed to take more pictures too) and offered us one of their beds for the two of us. It was like Christmas. The alternative was going back out into the now-packed nether world of the toilet area for 12 hours at night. Not only this but since they were such a large group (40) the ticket collector didn't ask them for their individual tickets. Our new friends agreed to have us pretend to sleep and act as if we were one of their group. The collector bought it and we ended up traveling for free. Crazy. The money wasn't the issue; we didn't want him throwing us back into the toilet area. As we spent the rest of the night sleeping in shifts, the person awake would periodically pile drive the sleeping person every time the collector passed by.
All of the people were so friendly to us. Most couldn't believe we were in the car but all went out of their way to help us if they could. As we left the train 19 hours after hurtling ourselves on, half of our car came out to walk us to the station exit, snapping pictures all the while.
We've arrived in Darjeeling and hoping for some good views of the Himalayas tomorrow morning. We may do another installment soon including here and an India wrap, but we'll see. We head to Bangkok on Wednesday. To say we're excited it an understatement. After being so covered up in the heat, Shauna says she's wearing her bikini onto the plane.
Until next time.
S&P
The last five days have been a true roller coaster ride, so sit back with your cup of coffee and enjoy our latest installment.
We last left you taking in the gracious hospitality at the Master Gust House in the Indian capital. The owner Avnish, his children, and wonderful staff helped us recover from several tiring days in Agra and Rajasthan. There are only five rooms here while Avnish and his family live downstairs, so it's a very intimate stay. We met some wonderful people each day as we sipped coffee or ate a meal in the communal kitchen, which sometimes doubled as a makeshift bedroom.
Since we had such trouble getting in from Agra, we really only had two days to see the city. Obviously this is not enough time for such a big place. It rained hard (first of our trip) both days to boot, at least in the mornings until about 1pm. This limited what we could do. Apparently Avnish gives "Hidden Delhi" tours of the old city like no other, and he couldn't do it due to the rain and mud. He did bring us to the daily wholesale flower market, however, and this was great. After seeing it we assume one exists in every city (where else do the bodegas on every corner in NYC get all those fresh flowers daily?), but it was a first for us. We enjoyed the atmosphere at 7am between the amazing aromas, colors, and haggling.
Other than that we spent a day walking around New Delhi and Old Delhi, respectively. New Delhi consists of all the old Raj (British controlled) architecture and now the power base of the country. There are some impressive buildings in the area that look in many ways like the capital of a powerful western nation. It is clean, quiet, and green. The Commonwealth Games were here just this past summer, so we're not sure if this has something to do with the sanity, but it was nice to walk around. Old Delhi is just that; old. It is a maze of streets where you could easily lose yourself for an afternoon. We did just that and stumbled upon Karim's, an Old Delhi restaurant spanning 4 generations. We gorged. Besides gawking at the largest mosque in Asia, we also experienced our first Sikh temple. We both enjoyed this very much. There is a lot of energy here. Sikhs are highly devout but also known for their generosity. After removing our shoes and washing our hands and feet, we had our heads wrapped as we entered the temple. The place was consistently packed with devotees as they formed almost an assembly line to give thanks. We sat and took it all in for a while. We're aware of the whole Indira Gandhi thing, but being in that temple it didn't seem like these people would ever be capable of violence. They are so giving they have a huge kitchen attached where anyone can come and get a meal for free, even us.
We also got stuck in the most ludicrous traffic jam on the way to the train station. The vehicles surrounding us would make you laugh. They ranged from buses to just a guy walking with his mobile produce stand in one of 12 illegal lanes that often form at red lights. After making our train safely, we proceeded at a snail's pace to Varanasi. Our 12 hour ride turned into a 21 hour journey.
Varanasi is one of our favorite places so far. Sandwiched in between two long overnight train dates, we didn't expect to relax as much as we did. It's obviously an extremely holy place, and we let ourselves go with the vibe of the city. Our first morning we got up at 6am and got into a boat with a lovely British couple (later whom we enjoyed a Kingfisher or two with) and cruised the famous Ganges and its ghats. You can see the pictures but the experience was surreal. After an hour we departed the boat and walked a short distance to one of the burning ghats. We didn't know exactly how we would feel about it or even how we should feel about it. We still don't, but it was powerful. Quick rewind. Ghats are simply steps that lead down into holy water, like those you saw in the Pushkar photos. The burning ghats are specific to Varanasi. This is the holiest place in Hinduism, the oldest place on earth created by Shiva, the god of destruction. Many people come here to die, if they can afford it. It is believed that if you are cremated on the Ganges' banks and your ashes are scattered into the water, your soul will be purified. For lucky souls, the cycle of rebirth ends and Nirvana is reached. You're not allowed to take photos, nor would we want to, but as we walked up there was a body being put on to a new pyre. This goes on 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Don't quote us but we heard as many as 500 cremations a day take place at this one particular ghat alone.
We spent the rest of our time relaxing on the rooftop restaurant of our hotel. It was nice and was directly on the Ganges, and we were able to take in all the action without getting up. We got our first good dose of kite racing here. 6 or 7 young boys scattered on various rooftops throughout the city were facing off, trying to cut the others' lines. Overall Varanasi was an enjoyable and eye-opening stop. The only downside was our room. Being USD9 a night we shouldn't have been surprised, but it was literally like sleeping on concrete. Pat was cranky about this so Shauna proactively solved the problem for our second night. We're not sure if it came at the expense of another room, but Shauna managed to nab two mattress pads airing out in the sun on a banister. Pat knew she had done something wrong when she came sprinting and huffing through our room door barely able to carry the heavy pads. Kudos; we slept well. We couldn't stop laughing between this and Pat falling hard on the street. We were led to the hotel the previous night by a guy on speed trying to get us onto one of his tours the following day. It was late and we were exhausted by the 21 hour marathon so we let him lead us through the maze of narrow streets. At one point Pat apparently thought this dog was rabid and was going to bite him. He warily watched the pup, unaware there was a large and sharp stone step approaching on the side walk. Before he could react he hit the step and lunged forward at great speed since the pack was on his back. As our tour guide and Shauna turned Pat rolled right and nailed the stone street before flailing around on his back. It was a fairly epic fall. As we're writing this we're realizing it's possible that both of these stories are "had to be there" kind of stories, but at least now we'll remember them and we can reenact later.
The great story we save for last. Keep in mind that this all took place on a train over the course of 19 hours. So we get wait listed for the train from Varanasi to Darjeeling, just like from Udaipur to Agra. This was a big blow as there was only one train a week from Varanasi to Darjeeling, and if we didn't get on we would have missed the Himalayas. We hoped to try the same thing we did in Udaipur, which was to sweet talk our way onto an A/C Chair Class. Unfortunately this train didn't have an A/C Chair, only 2nd A/C Sleeper, 3rd A/C Sleeper, and Sleeper. Every single one of these seats was spoken for. Being the ridiculous, stubborn people we are, we went through time consuming process of filing a report with the tourist office and the station police to see if they could help us get on the train. Certain elements being lost in translation, we ended up getting a hard written letter stamped by the station police saying we had lost two tickets in 2nd A/C and to have the train ticket collector do everything in his power to get us on. After 20 minutes of back and forth with the collector on the platform (not to mention with the crowd of noisy men that always appears whenever a commotion erupts), he said with some finality, "Not possible". As the train started to move, the collector jokingly told us we could get on the Sleeper class with no seat, but pay the fare plus a small fine. We need to explain the trains classes a little here. Most foreigners do 2nd A/C or possibly even 3rd A/C. They are not great when comparing with Europe, but they are certainly doable. In these berths you are sharing compartments with small business owners, teachers, etc. Rarely does anyone dare to take general Sleeper class (at least on long overnight journeys), which is what the majority of Indians take. The ticket collector was mostly joking when he said this figuring we would not run and jump into what looks from the outside a cattle car. There are prison-like bars on the windows. He was wrong, however. We made a rash, split-second decision, and Pat screamed, "Let's do it". Shauna didn't hesitate, and ran at good speed to catch a door and jumped through, knocking this poor guy over from the momentum and weight of her pack. Pat followed just in time, and we turned around to see 300 of the most curious sets of eyes we had ever seen.
We took a deep breath and took a seat in between cars on the floor next to the bathroom. We quickly thought we made a bad decision. The facilities are gross, and the smell in these areas foul. Indian-style bathrooms is enough said. Anyway, one of the vendors selling Chai took an interest in us and led us to some proper seats. There was plenty of room and two beds on top that were empty. At 4pm, we calmed down and started to think it would be OK. At 7pm, we stopped at some place called Ballia and all hell broke loose. Waves of Indians ran onto the car screaming and chucking luggage this way and that. We quickly retreated up into the top bunks and tried to stay out of site. It didn't last long. Men were screaming at each other and then at us, demanding our tickets. We had nothing but some random hand written letter, but we didn't show it. We simply pointed to the numbers indicating the beds we were on, saying the ticket collector told us to sit there. Somehow this placated the riotous crowd in our section as we all agreed to wait for the collector to come around and check tickets. Luckily for us the collectors are not efficient and did not make it to us for several hours. Meanwhile, in other sections of the car things were getting physical. A man without an assigned bed (like us) was getting hit by a crowd of men when he refused to move. The man ended up moving quickly, but you can believe it made us uncomfortable. It got even more interesting when a group of men dressed like women came through randomly punching young men all over their bodies. Someone later explained that they were hermaphrodite prostitutes, and they often target young men to beg for money on trains. Apparently the young men often give them a rupee or two as they would rather that then be assaulted by these people. The look on Shauna's face was indescribable. We were put more at ease when we realized they had no interest in Pat we can only guess because of his skin. We had to think of our seating situation first anyway, so on the train rolled. We took the time before the collector came to make nice with the people who's seats we were in. A majority of them we around our age and were returning from a wedding. They were in a good mood and the "white celebrity" persona finally paid off. As time went on and more information came out, they realized we were in their seats but liked us too much (we're sure they needed to take more pictures too) and offered us one of their beds for the two of us. It was like Christmas. The alternative was going back out into the now-packed nether world of the toilet area for 12 hours at night. Not only this but since they were such a large group (40) the ticket collector didn't ask them for their individual tickets. Our new friends agreed to have us pretend to sleep and act as if we were one of their group. The collector bought it and we ended up traveling for free. Crazy. The money wasn't the issue; we didn't want him throwing us back into the toilet area. As we spent the rest of the night sleeping in shifts, the person awake would periodically pile drive the sleeping person every time the collector passed by.
All of the people were so friendly to us. Most couldn't believe we were in the car but all went out of their way to help us if they could. As we left the train 19 hours after hurtling ourselves on, half of our car came out to walk us to the station exit, snapping pictures all the while.
We've arrived in Darjeeling and hoping for some good views of the Himalayas tomorrow morning. We may do another installment soon including here and an India wrap, but we'll see. We head to Bangkok on Wednesday. To say we're excited it an understatement. After being so covered up in the heat, Shauna says she's wearing her bikini onto the plane.
Until next time.
S&P
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Post #4 - Temples, Forts & Tombs
Namaste All,
We've arrived safely in Delhi and we couldn't be happier to be here. We hit our first snags of the trip getting to and leaving from Agra. We were wait listed on our overnight train from Udaipur, and ended up being wait listed passengers 1 & 2, meaning we were the next two to get beds. However, Shauna gave the ticket collector her best pouty face and sweet talked our way onto the A/C Chair class. This meant we got on the train we wanted, except it was more like an airplane ride rather than sleeping properly. While this was a nuisance it was nice to get on the train and not have to pay for another night in Udaipur. The other and more frustrating snag was getting out of Agra. We originally had an 8:25am train to Delhi. We got up with plenty of time and waved good bye to the hotel's owner as we made our way to the rickshaws. To our shock, there were none to meet us as all of the roads were closed due to a marathon that morning. Really, a marathon?! We didn't see one person running. The whole city simply shut down. No one cared to point this out to us, especially our hotel's owner. After figuring out a bus to Delhi, we returned to the hotel and told him we couldn't get out due to the road closures. He said, "Oh yes they are all closed, did you not know that?!" Pat mumbled something or other and we slept off our frustration for an hour. We ventured out a second time to catch a 12:00pm bus to Delhi. Upon arriving at the scheduled departing station 20 minutes early, we were told through a series of awkward encounters that our bus was not here for this day only. We could only assume this was because of the damn marathon, and we were told it was at another station. A nice girl who spoke English well enough told us it was 3 or 4 kilometers away and to simply get in another rickshaw. It turned out the second station was about 12 kilometers away and it took us a good half hour (at some point on dirt roads the rickshaw could barely navigate). Our patience wearing thin, our rather luxurious bus was still waiting for us as we arrived panting and moaning. Thankful for us time means nothing to Indians. Add the fact that Pat got "Delhi Belly" for the first time the night before and one can imagine how happy we were to be leaving Agra. Oh yes, we cannot leave out the fact the Shauna got no sleep either between Pat's trips to the toilet and the loudest packs of barking dogs in the world.
With all of bad news out of the way, we are happy to say there are plenty of good things to write about as well. After checking out of our Udaipur hotel, we took a day trip into the countryside and saw some of the most impressive sites we've seen. We had a driver named Ganesh, who was ridiculously friendly and navigated the sometimes frightening roads like a pro. He is now 32 with three children, but was married at 15. His wife was 12. Ganesh is from one of the villages we drove through and in a lot of ways this life seems better than those in the cities. From our brief tour, we would certainly want to live here if we were low caste Indians. The pictures won't do it justice, but the countryside is gorgeous, with field after field of chapati grain, mustard oil plants and soy plants. The villages are not picturesque like in France, but they have a definite calm and peaceful essence to them. It's a simpler life where things run much as they have for the last 1000 years. They were still using oxen to run a water wheel from a stream, for example. Again we were celebrities to the villagers, and we have some great pictures to support this. Look at the school children around Shauna. Amazing.
Besides the beautiful drive and avoiding the sacred cows in the road (there were a couple close calls), we saw one of the two best Jain temple complexes in the country and one of the most impressive forts. First up was Kumbhalgarh Fort, built in the 15th century and only falling once to the great Mughal emperor Akbar. Next was Ranakpur, arguably the best work done by the orthodox Jain Hindu sect, who are known for their intricate detail. This may be our favorite site so far, and the pictures here without a doubt don't do it justice. The temples are set deep in a wildlife sanctuary and so the backdrop is beautiful as well. The roads rival those on the 101 in California, but with only one lane for two-way traffic and dealing with crazy Indian drivers.
The next two days were spent in Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. We woke up before the sun to be at the East Gate by 6:30am. We were about the 15th and 16th people in when it opened and we were rewarded with some great pictures without the hoards of "package" tourists. When you look at the pictures they will seem superimposed, and it was actually the same when looking at it in person. Really, really impressive. This was the first of three tombs we would see that day, but was by far the best. Agra was the home to the 200 year-old Mughal (Muslim) dynasty of India, starting with Babur. It seems they all loved to be buried in grandiose tombs, as the Taj and "Mini-Taj" attest. The fort Akbar built (Agra Fort) is quite impressive as well. It's always the Taj people come here to see, and it does not disappoint. We ended the day in this quaint garden across the river from the Taj and saw sunset fall over it. We were told sunset was nicer than sunrise, but we felt the opposite. Maybe it was too hazey that day, who knows.
We've arrived safely in Delhi and we couldn't be happier to be here. We hit our first snags of the trip getting to and leaving from Agra. We were wait listed on our overnight train from Udaipur, and ended up being wait listed passengers 1 & 2, meaning we were the next two to get beds. However, Shauna gave the ticket collector her best pouty face and sweet talked our way onto the A/C Chair class. This meant we got on the train we wanted, except it was more like an airplane ride rather than sleeping properly. While this was a nuisance it was nice to get on the train and not have to pay for another night in Udaipur. The other and more frustrating snag was getting out of Agra. We originally had an 8:25am train to Delhi. We got up with plenty of time and waved good bye to the hotel's owner as we made our way to the rickshaws. To our shock, there were none to meet us as all of the roads were closed due to a marathon that morning. Really, a marathon?! We didn't see one person running. The whole city simply shut down. No one cared to point this out to us, especially our hotel's owner. After figuring out a bus to Delhi, we returned to the hotel and told him we couldn't get out due to the road closures. He said, "Oh yes they are all closed, did you not know that?!" Pat mumbled something or other and we slept off our frustration for an hour. We ventured out a second time to catch a 12:00pm bus to Delhi. Upon arriving at the scheduled departing station 20 minutes early, we were told through a series of awkward encounters that our bus was not here for this day only. We could only assume this was because of the damn marathon, and we were told it was at another station. A nice girl who spoke English well enough told us it was 3 or 4 kilometers away and to simply get in another rickshaw. It turned out the second station was about 12 kilometers away and it took us a good half hour (at some point on dirt roads the rickshaw could barely navigate). Our patience wearing thin, our rather luxurious bus was still waiting for us as we arrived panting and moaning. Thankful for us time means nothing to Indians. Add the fact that Pat got "Delhi Belly" for the first time the night before and one can imagine how happy we were to be leaving Agra. Oh yes, we cannot leave out the fact the Shauna got no sleep either between Pat's trips to the toilet and the loudest packs of barking dogs in the world.
With all of bad news out of the way, we are happy to say there are plenty of good things to write about as well. After checking out of our Udaipur hotel, we took a day trip into the countryside and saw some of the most impressive sites we've seen. We had a driver named Ganesh, who was ridiculously friendly and navigated the sometimes frightening roads like a pro. He is now 32 with three children, but was married at 15. His wife was 12. Ganesh is from one of the villages we drove through and in a lot of ways this life seems better than those in the cities. From our brief tour, we would certainly want to live here if we were low caste Indians. The pictures won't do it justice, but the countryside is gorgeous, with field after field of chapati grain, mustard oil plants and soy plants. The villages are not picturesque like in France, but they have a definite calm and peaceful essence to them. It's a simpler life where things run much as they have for the last 1000 years. They were still using oxen to run a water wheel from a stream, for example. Again we were celebrities to the villagers, and we have some great pictures to support this. Look at the school children around Shauna. Amazing.
Besides the beautiful drive and avoiding the sacred cows in the road (there were a couple close calls), we saw one of the two best Jain temple complexes in the country and one of the most impressive forts. First up was Kumbhalgarh Fort, built in the 15th century and only falling once to the great Mughal emperor Akbar. Next was Ranakpur, arguably the best work done by the orthodox Jain Hindu sect, who are known for their intricate detail. This may be our favorite site so far, and the pictures here without a doubt don't do it justice. The temples are set deep in a wildlife sanctuary and so the backdrop is beautiful as well. The roads rival those on the 101 in California, but with only one lane for two-way traffic and dealing with crazy Indian drivers.
The next two days were spent in Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. We woke up before the sun to be at the East Gate by 6:30am. We were about the 15th and 16th people in when it opened and we were rewarded with some great pictures without the hoards of "package" tourists. When you look at the pictures they will seem superimposed, and it was actually the same when looking at it in person. Really, really impressive. This was the first of three tombs we would see that day, but was by far the best. Agra was the home to the 200 year-old Mughal (Muslim) dynasty of India, starting with Babur. It seems they all loved to be buried in grandiose tombs, as the Taj and "Mini-Taj" attest. The fort Akbar built (Agra Fort) is quite impressive as well. It's always the Taj people come here to see, and it does not disappoint. We ended the day in this quaint garden across the river from the Taj and saw sunset fall over it. We were told sunset was nicer than sunrise, but we felt the opposite. Maybe it was too hazey that day, who knows.
We spend the next two days in Delhi followed by Varanasi. We're writing this post from an amazing guesthouse after sleeping for 11 hours with the soothing sounds of our first rainfall of the trip. It was exactly what we needed after a tough night in Agra. Shauna says it was the perfect Valentine's Day treat, for all you girls. Pat hates V-Day.
Much love,
S&P
Thursday, February 10, 2011
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