Saturday, February 27, 2010
Neighborhood - Sugar and Gold
OMG so amazing. Seeing the Shotwell street sign almost made me tear up. Thank goodness I am planning a trip home this summer for ten days if I can manage it, after seeing the 'rents in Beijing.
I am so glad Sugar and Gold finally made a video for this epic song.
"And if you should leave her she wont put up a fight. When you come on back to see her, she'll let you stay for the night. She might not give you head, but she might let you share her bed."
"Givin' it up for just one town."
Friday, February 26, 2010
Agra
We booked an overnight bus from Pushkar to Agra for Friday night. I, for one, was super excited because it was our first sleeper bus ride. In India they have overnight buses with sleeper compartments like on the train, and I was excited because of the novelty. But after this night I hope I never have to ride in a sleeper bus ever again. We left from Pushkar at 7:30 and right off the bat things started to go wrong. When we booked our bus nobody bothered to mention that we would have to change buses in Ajmer, which meant waiting for almost an hour on the side of the road. But finally our Agra bus arrived so we could get comfortable for the overnight ride. Or so we thought.
It is always difficult to figure out where you are supposed to be on the trains and buses, but this time it didn't look like we had an assigned sleeper compartment. So when the bus pulled in I got on quickly to try an stake out the best double compartment for Justin and me. I chose one that was near the rear, since all of the other doubles were taken. But I didn't take the very last one because it didn't have a sliding screen door, which meant it was not very private or very safe, for those sudden lurches. I pictured Justin or myself flying off the second tiered compartment in the middle of the night. Unfortunately that compartment went to a group of Korean travelers, three in all, and I guess they we not to pleased to be stuck taking the back compartments. They were screaming at the conductor claiming that they had been assigned to the compartment we were in and the one across from us. Justin and I feigned ignorance and shut our screen so that we wouldn't be relegated to the crappy sleeper compartment. As it was we were sharing a double compartment which was about six inches to short for Justin and another six inches to narrow for the two of us. But we figured we could manage for one night.
Well it was the longest night of our lives. They pump the sleeper compartments so full of air conditioner, which we had heard, so we were prepared in long pants, socks and sweaters and still we were both freezing. Plus we were bouncing around the whole night. At certain points we flew at least six inches into the air, before crashing down onto the thin mattress again. All of the roads in India, or at least most of them, are one-lane potholed highways and the drivers are constantly gunning it to pass other cars on the road at top speed. It is not unusual to see buses turned over on their sides in a ditch because the driver was going too fast while swerving to avoid a pothole, tree or other automobile.
At one point, I woke up after being violently thrashed into the window on my right side only to see two enormous big rigs/lorries/tractor trailers (US/UK/Canadian translation) passing us on either side. In other words, one immense truck was trying to pass another but didn't have enough time because our driver naturally sped up to prevent him from cutting across our lane and so rather than slow down and fall back behind the other truck he swung to our left, driving off the road. Absolutely terrifying. Both Justin and I felt ill after getting off the bus in Agra from all the bouncing and turmoil for our internal organs.
Also none of the buses in India have toilets, even though many bus trips are upwards of 6 hours. So you have to be very strategic about potty breaks. The buses usually make several stops at the ubiquitous chai stands along the road and when they do that is your only chance to relieve yourself. Of course since you are traveling in the middle of the night it might be easy to miss one of these all important stops because you are asleep. But sleeping through the night was not a problem for us on this ride. What is a problem is willing yourself to get down off the bus, wade, in the dark, out back of the chai stands and find a somewhat sanitary spot to soil. It can be difficult if you don't have to go that badly. But if you don't force yourself to take every opportunity to pee, you run the risk of missing the last break for several hours. On one such occasion I didn't need any coaxing because I had to pee badly, and it looked, from the bus like there was actually several bathroom stalls. So I forced myself up and off of the bus, reminding the driver that I was going to be right back so that he wouldn't forget and leave without me. Now I said there was a bathroom, but I almost wish there hadn't been because the stalls in this bathroom were by far the most disgusting toilets I have ever seen. I wasn't surprised to see that they were all Indian style squatters. I have actually gotten used to those but they were all actually overflowing with feces and the smell of urine was overwhelming. And to top it off the dirt outside of the bathroom stalls was reddish brown and so many people had tracked the dirt into the stalls where it mixed with the piss and shit and covered the ground. It was impossible to tell if what you were stepping in was shit or mud, but either way it was unpleasant. I peed in record time and raced back to the bus. And not for the first time I felt a twinge of jealousy for the men I passed who were relieving themselves standing up in the open air.
We arrived in Agra at 6 the following morning, grateful despite being dropped unceremoniously on the side of the highway. There we met Sebastian, a German, who had been on our bus and wanted to share a rickshaw. We were planning on hiring a driver for the day who could hang on to our bags since we were only in town twelve hours and didn't want to have to carry them around with us. But Sebastian said he was going to a guest house right by the western gate of the Taj and that we could most likely leave our bags there. So we hoped in a rickshaw and negotiated the price for the day and sped off to the Lucky Guest House. On our way the day began to dawn and much to our dismay we saw that it was hopelessly foggy and overcast. Which meant that we would have to wait to go to see the Taj if we wanted to see anything at all. I was dismayed because I had hoped to be one of the first to arrive so that I could experience one of the greatest architectural wonders without the crush of the crowd. But ultimately I decided it would be better to actually see the thing than get there before everyone else and not be able to see anything. Justin relinquished all control of the Agra intinerary to me, since he didn't actually care about seeing the Taj and had wanted to avoid Agra altogether. I had to laugh because seeing the Taj Mahal was one of the only things I really wanted to do in India, that and go trekking in Nepal, both of which proved to be almost a complete bust.
We did eventually get to the Taj. We left Lucky around 9, despite it still being horribly foggy. The grounds around the majestic building are actually quite large and in all the dense fog we had a hard time figuring out which way we were supposed to go. But since the Taj is one of the most photographed images in the world we were able to follow the water fountains and gardens in the direction that we assumed the Taj was. Justin and I kept laughing and joking that the Taj Mahal might be a big Indian hoax. They get all these whities to pay the obscene entrance fee of 750 Rs or nearly $18 and then there is actually nothing there. We kept getting closer and closer and still we couldn't see the Taj. It wasn't until we were literally 30 meters away that the outline of the building started to come into view. When we first beheld it we couldn't even see the whole thing. The large bulbous dome on top was completely shrouded in misty fog, but after we had been through the interior and come back out to the front the fog had receded enough so that we could actually see the whole thing and get a few good pictures. By that time though it was too crowded for me to get my Princess Di shot. Oh well, at least I know the Taj isn't likely to go anywhere and I can surely come back and see it again. And as Justin pointed out watching the Taj reveal itself through the mist was actually quite spellbinding, and very unlike anything else we have seen in India. In some ways seeing it in such an unusual way actually enhanced the experience. Although, I wouldn't have complained if it had been a beautifully sunny day without a cloud in the sky.
We did some of the other obligatory Agra sights with our rickshaw driver Cha Cha, including an unsolicited stop at one of the exorbitantly priced tourist souvenir shops. I actually had a very funny argument over this particular stop. It is well known that rickshaw drivers in Agra will insist on taking you to one of these stores because they receive a heavy commission if you are stupid enough to actually buy something. They also receive other credits, such as gas cards just for getting you in the door. I was prepared to fight tooth and nail to avoid having to make one of these unwanted detours. It finally came after we had seen the Taj and the Baby Taj, ( a building that actually has a real name and predates the Taj and was in many respects the inspiration for the Taj but has since been relegated to the inferior moniker of the Baby Taj) my ears perked up because Cha Cha said he would... "like to now take you [us] to some factories where you [we] might see local artisans products and techniques. " I knew that was code for I am going to take you to some expensive shops now. So I said,
"no no no Cha Cha, we want to go to fort now."
"Yes yes my friend I will take to the fort, but first see some local stuffs. Very nice, maybe you buy, or just looking them making."
"Cha Cha I will give you a big tip if you do NOT take us to these shops."
"But Miss, I am not hassling you, but you see I get gas card if you stop there, just looking." It went on like this for several minutes back and forth,
"I am not hassling but..."and so I finally said,
"I am speaking frankly my friend, really, frankly, we do not want to go to the shops but I can see that you are going to take us no matter what, so lets stop wasting time and you take us now."
"O Miss you are very unhappy."
"No Cha Cha, not unhappy but I would be happier if no shops."
"Please Miss. Smile for me... maybe just one shop. Is ok?"
So off we went to the "local artisan factory." Cha Cha told us we had to stay at least ten minutes for him to get the gas card and please seem interested a little. So Justin and I really did it up. We made them show us the most expensive jewelery and all of the different kinds of silk shawls. We looked at engagement rings and huge swords. They pulled out at least a dozen silk bedspreads, and hand carvings and paintings. It was really a show. And after we had sufficiently "shopped" we left and got back on our way to the fort, which I particularly enjoyed and Justin probably couldn't have cared about less. After our whirlwind tour of Agra it was time to head to the train station to take the train to Delhi and meet my parents.
I had intended to write about the week we spent with my parents in Rishikesh but this post is already longer than I intended and so I think I will save the Rishikesh post for another time. We have actually spent two weeks here in Rishikesh and don't leave until Sunday night when we will be taking the train to Varanasi. I will try to get at least some of the Rishikesh adventures up here before we go. It has been one of the highlights of India.
highlights of Agra
The Taj - despite the weather it was truly magnificent. To think that this guy had such an awesome place built in honor of his late wife is very romantic. Not to mention it took 20,000 men over twenty years to build. And it doesn't matter how many times you see it in photograph it pales in comparison to seeing it in person
Cha Cha - what a guy
The Lucky Guest House
Sebastian - another lovely German, who knew.
Lowlights of Agra
Zorba the Budha - where we had lunch. All the guide books recommend this place but we thought it was miss-able.
The souvenir show - honestly it is highway robbery in there
The weather
THE OVERNIGHT BUS - never again
It is always difficult to figure out where you are supposed to be on the trains and buses, but this time it didn't look like we had an assigned sleeper compartment. So when the bus pulled in I got on quickly to try an stake out the best double compartment for Justin and me. I chose one that was near the rear, since all of the other doubles were taken. But I didn't take the very last one because it didn't have a sliding screen door, which meant it was not very private or very safe, for those sudden lurches. I pictured Justin or myself flying off the second tiered compartment in the middle of the night. Unfortunately that compartment went to a group of Korean travelers, three in all, and I guess they we not to pleased to be stuck taking the back compartments. They were screaming at the conductor claiming that they had been assigned to the compartment we were in and the one across from us. Justin and I feigned ignorance and shut our screen so that we wouldn't be relegated to the crappy sleeper compartment. As it was we were sharing a double compartment which was about six inches to short for Justin and another six inches to narrow for the two of us. But we figured we could manage for one night.
Well it was the longest night of our lives. They pump the sleeper compartments so full of air conditioner, which we had heard, so we were prepared in long pants, socks and sweaters and still we were both freezing. Plus we were bouncing around the whole night. At certain points we flew at least six inches into the air, before crashing down onto the thin mattress again. All of the roads in India, or at least most of them, are one-lane potholed highways and the drivers are constantly gunning it to pass other cars on the road at top speed. It is not unusual to see buses turned over on their sides in a ditch because the driver was going too fast while swerving to avoid a pothole, tree or other automobile.
At one point, I woke up after being violently thrashed into the window on my right side only to see two enormous big rigs/lorries/tractor trailers (US/UK/Canadian translation) passing us on either side. In other words, one immense truck was trying to pass another but didn't have enough time because our driver naturally sped up to prevent him from cutting across our lane and so rather than slow down and fall back behind the other truck he swung to our left, driving off the road. Absolutely terrifying. Both Justin and I felt ill after getting off the bus in Agra from all the bouncing and turmoil for our internal organs.
Also none of the buses in India have toilets, even though many bus trips are upwards of 6 hours. So you have to be very strategic about potty breaks. The buses usually make several stops at the ubiquitous chai stands along the road and when they do that is your only chance to relieve yourself. Of course since you are traveling in the middle of the night it might be easy to miss one of these all important stops because you are asleep. But sleeping through the night was not a problem for us on this ride. What is a problem is willing yourself to get down off the bus, wade, in the dark, out back of the chai stands and find a somewhat sanitary spot to soil. It can be difficult if you don't have to go that badly. But if you don't force yourself to take every opportunity to pee, you run the risk of missing the last break for several hours. On one such occasion I didn't need any coaxing because I had to pee badly, and it looked, from the bus like there was actually several bathroom stalls. So I forced myself up and off of the bus, reminding the driver that I was going to be right back so that he wouldn't forget and leave without me. Now I said there was a bathroom, but I almost wish there hadn't been because the stalls in this bathroom were by far the most disgusting toilets I have ever seen. I wasn't surprised to see that they were all Indian style squatters. I have actually gotten used to those but they were all actually overflowing with feces and the smell of urine was overwhelming. And to top it off the dirt outside of the bathroom stalls was reddish brown and so many people had tracked the dirt into the stalls where it mixed with the piss and shit and covered the ground. It was impossible to tell if what you were stepping in was shit or mud, but either way it was unpleasant. I peed in record time and raced back to the bus. And not for the first time I felt a twinge of jealousy for the men I passed who were relieving themselves standing up in the open air.
We arrived in Agra at 6 the following morning, grateful despite being dropped unceremoniously on the side of the highway. There we met Sebastian, a German, who had been on our bus and wanted to share a rickshaw. We were planning on hiring a driver for the day who could hang on to our bags since we were only in town twelve hours and didn't want to have to carry them around with us. But Sebastian said he was going to a guest house right by the western gate of the Taj and that we could most likely leave our bags there. So we hoped in a rickshaw and negotiated the price for the day and sped off to the Lucky Guest House. On our way the day began to dawn and much to our dismay we saw that it was hopelessly foggy and overcast. Which meant that we would have to wait to go to see the Taj if we wanted to see anything at all. I was dismayed because I had hoped to be one of the first to arrive so that I could experience one of the greatest architectural wonders without the crush of the crowd. But ultimately I decided it would be better to actually see the thing than get there before everyone else and not be able to see anything. Justin relinquished all control of the Agra intinerary to me, since he didn't actually care about seeing the Taj and had wanted to avoid Agra altogether. I had to laugh because seeing the Taj Mahal was one of the only things I really wanted to do in India, that and go trekking in Nepal, both of which proved to be almost a complete bust.
We did eventually get to the Taj. We left Lucky around 9, despite it still being horribly foggy. The grounds around the majestic building are actually quite large and in all the dense fog we had a hard time figuring out which way we were supposed to go. But since the Taj is one of the most photographed images in the world we were able to follow the water fountains and gardens in the direction that we assumed the Taj was. Justin and I kept laughing and joking that the Taj Mahal might be a big Indian hoax. They get all these whities to pay the obscene entrance fee of 750 Rs or nearly $18 and then there is actually nothing there. We kept getting closer and closer and still we couldn't see the Taj. It wasn't until we were literally 30 meters away that the outline of the building started to come into view. When we first beheld it we couldn't even see the whole thing. The large bulbous dome on top was completely shrouded in misty fog, but after we had been through the interior and come back out to the front the fog had receded enough so that we could actually see the whole thing and get a few good pictures. By that time though it was too crowded for me to get my Princess Di shot. Oh well, at least I know the Taj isn't likely to go anywhere and I can surely come back and see it again. And as Justin pointed out watching the Taj reveal itself through the mist was actually quite spellbinding, and very unlike anything else we have seen in India. In some ways seeing it in such an unusual way actually enhanced the experience. Although, I wouldn't have complained if it had been a beautifully sunny day without a cloud in the sky.
We did some of the other obligatory Agra sights with our rickshaw driver Cha Cha, including an unsolicited stop at one of the exorbitantly priced tourist souvenir shops. I actually had a very funny argument over this particular stop. It is well known that rickshaw drivers in Agra will insist on taking you to one of these stores because they receive a heavy commission if you are stupid enough to actually buy something. They also receive other credits, such as gas cards just for getting you in the door. I was prepared to fight tooth and nail to avoid having to make one of these unwanted detours. It finally came after we had seen the Taj and the Baby Taj, ( a building that actually has a real name and predates the Taj and was in many respects the inspiration for the Taj but has since been relegated to the inferior moniker of the Baby Taj) my ears perked up because Cha Cha said he would... "like to now take you [us] to some factories where you [we] might see local artisans products and techniques. " I knew that was code for I am going to take you to some expensive shops now. So I said,
"no no no Cha Cha, we want to go to fort now."
"Yes yes my friend I will take to the fort, but first see some local stuffs. Very nice, maybe you buy, or just looking them making."
"Cha Cha I will give you a big tip if you do NOT take us to these shops."
"But Miss, I am not hassling you, but you see I get gas card if you stop there, just looking." It went on like this for several minutes back and forth,
"I am not hassling but..."and so I finally said,
"I am speaking frankly my friend, really, frankly, we do not want to go to the shops but I can see that you are going to take us no matter what, so lets stop wasting time and you take us now."
"O Miss you are very unhappy."
"No Cha Cha, not unhappy but I would be happier if no shops."
"Please Miss. Smile for me... maybe just one shop. Is ok?"
So off we went to the "local artisan factory." Cha Cha told us we had to stay at least ten minutes for him to get the gas card and please seem interested a little. So Justin and I really did it up. We made them show us the most expensive jewelery and all of the different kinds of silk shawls. We looked at engagement rings and huge swords. They pulled out at least a dozen silk bedspreads, and hand carvings and paintings. It was really a show. And after we had sufficiently "shopped" we left and got back on our way to the fort, which I particularly enjoyed and Justin probably couldn't have cared about less. After our whirlwind tour of Agra it was time to head to the train station to take the train to Delhi and meet my parents.
I had intended to write about the week we spent with my parents in Rishikesh but this post is already longer than I intended and so I think I will save the Rishikesh post for another time. We have actually spent two weeks here in Rishikesh and don't leave until Sunday night when we will be taking the train to Varanasi. I will try to get at least some of the Rishikesh adventures up here before we go. It has been one of the highlights of India.
highlights of Agra
The Taj - despite the weather it was truly magnificent. To think that this guy had such an awesome place built in honor of his late wife is very romantic. Not to mention it took 20,000 men over twenty years to build. And it doesn't matter how many times you see it in photograph it pales in comparison to seeing it in person
Cha Cha - what a guy
The Lucky Guest House
Sebastian - another lovely German, who knew.
Lowlights of Agra
Zorba the Budha - where we had lunch. All the guide books recommend this place but we thought it was miss-able.
The souvenir show - honestly it is highway robbery in there
The weather
THE OVERNIGHT BUS - never again
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Pushkar, wait isn't there supposed to be a lake?
Justin and I met Lucy in Udaipur at Raju's and we spent quite a bit of time with her while we were in town. And we enjoyed her company so much that we asked her to come with us for a few days, including Justin's birthday, to Pushkar. Pushkar is a holy city here in India, (aren't they all,) which really just means there is no meat or booze. However you can get hash or hash milkshakes anywhere and at all hours. Explain that one to me please? However, unlike other holy cities that we have been to Pushkar is holy for a good reason. (read, I actually know why it is holy unlike most places where I don't have a clue.) And that is because Pushkar is home to the only Brahma Temple in India.
Brahma is the first and most important Hindu God. He is the God of Creation. Now you may be wondering why the first and most important God only has one Temple in a country that has a Temple on practically every corner, and there is a logical explanation. Brahma despite being the first God is irrelevant. Having created the world millions of years ago he is now retired. Basically he did his part and now it is up to Vishnu, Shiva and all the rest to keep the ball rolling. So, since he is no longer working he doesn't require the same amount of active devotion. Hence he doesn't need a bunch of Temples. But there is a Brahma Temple in Pushkar, and that is why it is so holy.
Now, why Brahma's Temple is in Pushkar is an interesting Hindu story. You see, when Brahma was hanging out creating the World he had to slay this demon using his weapon the lotus flower and when he did several of the petals fell and created 3 lakes, the youngest of which was Pushkar Lake. Pushkar Lake is actually a man made lake, a bit strange I know since Brahma would have been around a few years before humans, but perhaps that is why it is known as the youngest Lake. Anyway, Brahma came down to Pushkar Lake to perform a yagna with his wife Savitri and make the place super holy and shit. However, things went a bit tits up when she was late, (women.) So Brahma is waiting and waiting and finally he gets tired of waiting and marries someone else, a milkmaid named Gayatri - homewrecker. Well that was a big mistake. Savitri eventually did show up and when she finds out Brahma has gone and married some other chick, and performed a holy yagna with his new wife by his side she is pissed. And since she is the first wife of the God of Creation she's pretty powerful herself so she cursed Brahma and decree that he would not be worshipped anywhere besides Pushkar. But because of the yagna which Brahma performed with his second wife Gayatri in the presence of all the other Gods, Pushkar Lake did become holy, and a dip in the lake is said to absolve you of all your sins. Too bad it didn't work for Brahma.
I was very excited on our way to Pushkar to see and perhaps take a dip in this Holy Lake. Since I haven't pissed off any God/Husbands so far, I figured I was in the clear as far getting some good old fashion sin absolution. Absolution is that the right word? Anyway, we were on the bus when Lucy happened to mention, off-hand, that the Lake is all dried up because they've had really lousy monsoons the last few years. Well, Justin and I were incensed. I mean that was the whole reason to go there right? I suppose that is what you get for wanting to visit a man made lake in the middle of the desert almost exactly six months after or before the monsoon. O well, maybe next time, guess I'll have to hang on to those sins a while longer.
Despite the absence of the Lake, Pushkar was amazingly beautiful. It is surrounded by mountains, and actually reminded me a bit of the southern tip in the interior of British Columbia. Because Pushkar and its suburb are also a bit of an irrigated desert valley. Of course the Indians are not so outrageous as to base all of their agriculture in such a ridiculous location but there was some farming happening, which did look strange when compared to the surrounding beige environment.
I didn't actually think much of the Brahma Temple but I loved the hike I did with Lucy one morning at dawn to the Savitri Temple. Both of Brahma's wives have mountain top Temples that look down on the city of Pushkar and the Brahma Temple, but Savitri's is much higher and more imposing than Gayatri's, obvs. In fact Savitri's Temple is more impressive and imposing than all of the other Pushkar Temple's. She was not the one to mess with.
What I loved best about Pushkar was how relaxed it was. We met a Danish guy, Emil on the bus and the four of us formed a little traveling family. We stayed together at the Bharatpur Palace overlooking the "lake" and we did practically nothing but stroll around town everyday and eat at the Honey and Spice cafe, which was this amazing organic vegetarian restaurant that had incredible food. (Some of the best in India so far.) We also spent a few evening at the Hotel Seventh Heaven which had a beautiful restaurant.
It was there that Lucy, Emil and I arranged for Justin's surprise birthday party complete with the most disgusting cake I have ever had. Despite how gross it was it was a really fun night and Justin was genuinely surprised and touched by all the attention we lavished on him. (It was mostly Lucy and Emil, I give Justin plenty of attention the other 364 days of the year.) We had all been making this running joke about getting Justin laid for his birthday and I suggested that we should have a t-shirt made that said Gay and Away, which might help attract some potential mates. We all got a good laugh about that one. And then Emil, bless his little Danish heart, he hadn't quite gotten the joke but he went ahead and had a very cute t-shirt made, and it says wait for it... Gay In a Way. I just about died when I saw it. I love, when I travel, finding t-shirts in English that make little or no sense and Emil has unwittingly added to the collection.
While in town Justin and I also commissioned a tailor to make us some custom yoga mat bags and Lucy had an awesome sleeping bag made. I found Pushkar really charming and liveable but after a week it was starting to get a little bit boring so we were glad to move on, although we were sad to leave our new friends. Justin and I had an overnight bus to Agra and the Taj finally. I couldn't wait to see one of the most iconic sights in all of India!
highlights of Pushkar
no lake - it actually was really funny
honey and spice -seriously delicious
our travel family - Emil, Lucy, Justin and me
hiking to the Savitri Temple with Lucy - we had quite an intense experience with some villagers at the Temple and they bought us a chai tea at the bottom. It was really special.
Justin's birthday surprise party at Seventh Heaven.
Dr. Sanjay Gupta - not to be confused with the CNN medical corespondent and yes we did have to see another doctor. At this point it feels like a tradition
Brahma is the first and most important Hindu God. He is the God of Creation. Now you may be wondering why the first and most important God only has one Temple in a country that has a Temple on practically every corner, and there is a logical explanation. Brahma despite being the first God is irrelevant. Having created the world millions of years ago he is now retired. Basically he did his part and now it is up to Vishnu, Shiva and all the rest to keep the ball rolling. So, since he is no longer working he doesn't require the same amount of active devotion. Hence he doesn't need a bunch of Temples. But there is a Brahma Temple in Pushkar, and that is why it is so holy.
Now, why Brahma's Temple is in Pushkar is an interesting Hindu story. You see, when Brahma was hanging out creating the World he had to slay this demon using his weapon the lotus flower and when he did several of the petals fell and created 3 lakes, the youngest of which was Pushkar Lake. Pushkar Lake is actually a man made lake, a bit strange I know since Brahma would have been around a few years before humans, but perhaps that is why it is known as the youngest Lake. Anyway, Brahma came down to Pushkar Lake to perform a yagna with his wife Savitri and make the place super holy and shit. However, things went a bit tits up when she was late, (women.) So Brahma is waiting and waiting and finally he gets tired of waiting and marries someone else, a milkmaid named Gayatri - homewrecker. Well that was a big mistake. Savitri eventually did show up and when she finds out Brahma has gone and married some other chick, and performed a holy yagna with his new wife by his side she is pissed. And since she is the first wife of the God of Creation she's pretty powerful herself so she cursed Brahma and decree that he would not be worshipped anywhere besides Pushkar. But because of the yagna which Brahma performed with his second wife Gayatri in the presence of all the other Gods, Pushkar Lake did become holy, and a dip in the lake is said to absolve you of all your sins. Too bad it didn't work for Brahma.
I was very excited on our way to Pushkar to see and perhaps take a dip in this Holy Lake. Since I haven't pissed off any God/Husbands so far, I figured I was in the clear as far getting some good old fashion sin absolution. Absolution is that the right word? Anyway, we were on the bus when Lucy happened to mention, off-hand, that the Lake is all dried up because they've had really lousy monsoons the last few years. Well, Justin and I were incensed. I mean that was the whole reason to go there right? I suppose that is what you get for wanting to visit a man made lake in the middle of the desert almost exactly six months after or before the monsoon. O well, maybe next time, guess I'll have to hang on to those sins a while longer.
Despite the absence of the Lake, Pushkar was amazingly beautiful. It is surrounded by mountains, and actually reminded me a bit of the southern tip in the interior of British Columbia. Because Pushkar and its suburb are also a bit of an irrigated desert valley. Of course the Indians are not so outrageous as to base all of their agriculture in such a ridiculous location but there was some farming happening, which did look strange when compared to the surrounding beige environment.
I didn't actually think much of the Brahma Temple but I loved the hike I did with Lucy one morning at dawn to the Savitri Temple. Both of Brahma's wives have mountain top Temples that look down on the city of Pushkar and the Brahma Temple, but Savitri's is much higher and more imposing than Gayatri's, obvs. In fact Savitri's Temple is more impressive and imposing than all of the other Pushkar Temple's. She was not the one to mess with.
What I loved best about Pushkar was how relaxed it was. We met a Danish guy, Emil on the bus and the four of us formed a little traveling family. We stayed together at the Bharatpur Palace overlooking the "lake" and we did practically nothing but stroll around town everyday and eat at the Honey and Spice cafe, which was this amazing organic vegetarian restaurant that had incredible food. (Some of the best in India so far.) We also spent a few evening at the Hotel Seventh Heaven which had a beautiful restaurant.
It was there that Lucy, Emil and I arranged for Justin's surprise birthday party complete with the most disgusting cake I have ever had. Despite how gross it was it was a really fun night and Justin was genuinely surprised and touched by all the attention we lavished on him. (It was mostly Lucy and Emil, I give Justin plenty of attention the other 364 days of the year.) We had all been making this running joke about getting Justin laid for his birthday and I suggested that we should have a t-shirt made that said Gay and Away, which might help attract some potential mates. We all got a good laugh about that one. And then Emil, bless his little Danish heart, he hadn't quite gotten the joke but he went ahead and had a very cute t-shirt made, and it says wait for it... Gay In a Way. I just about died when I saw it. I love, when I travel, finding t-shirts in English that make little or no sense and Emil has unwittingly added to the collection.
While in town Justin and I also commissioned a tailor to make us some custom yoga mat bags and Lucy had an awesome sleeping bag made. I found Pushkar really charming and liveable but after a week it was starting to get a little bit boring so we were glad to move on, although we were sad to leave our new friends. Justin and I had an overnight bus to Agra and the Taj finally. I couldn't wait to see one of the most iconic sights in all of India!
highlights of Pushkar
no lake - it actually was really funny
honey and spice -seriously delicious
our travel family - Emil, Lucy, Justin and me
hiking to the Savitri Temple with Lucy - we had quite an intense experience with some villagers at the Temple and they bought us a chai tea at the bottom. It was really special.
Justin's birthday surprise party at Seventh Heaven.
Dr. Sanjay Gupta - not to be confused with the CNN medical corespondent and yes we did have to see another doctor. At this point it feels like a tradition
Lowlights of Pushkar
No lake - it might have been funny, but I've got some serious sins that I would not have minded being absolved of.
Having to go to the doctor - Justin got quite sick and was even vomiting the day before his birthday. But Dr. G got it sorted and he was feeling much better.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Incredible India
And it tastes great!
needs no explanation
I am really trying to find this amazing Nair Hair removal ad, where one girl puts her hand on her friend's hairy arm and goes "Ouch, you need to Nair that." But I haven't found it yet. It's truly amazing
So you will just have to get into these, the Fair and Lovely series
This one is my favourite because it combines two of my favourite things, sports broadcasting and skin care!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Udaipur, that's where they filmed "Octopussy" right?
Mumbai happened in a flash. I was thrilled that we got to see the Albert Kahn exhibit at NGMA
And we had a few amazing meals, (especially the Masala Raman Noodles.)
And then we were off to Udaipur in the northern province of Rajasthan. We flew Kingfisher from Mumbai, and got stopped by the police on our way to the airport. No big deal but afterward the taxi driver and I had a very simplistic discussion in which we each conveyed our sincere believe that police are very bad business, and best to avoid.
We had a fairly uneventful flight only a few things are worth noting. 1.) Although the line-up to check in was very long it moved very quickly. Too quickly for me. I thought I was all packed and ready to go, but then my shoe broke, we forgot to take our liquids out of our carry-ons, the backpacks were not properly tied up, we didn't have any identification on them, etc etc. Point being I caused a huge slow down at the check in desk, and became one of the people I loath at the airport. You know the type.
Next item of note. Our landing in Udaipur was terrifying. At first I thought it was just me, then just me and Justin. But no. Looking around i saw many a worried face. Very foggy, very bumpy. But then the landing was surprisingly soft. Just goes to show what I know.
Lots of kooky white people at the airport. Justin and i have been playing guess where those whities are from? "American I think"
Now to Udaipur. We splurged on our hotel. It had a pool! And was phenomenally beautiful. we had blankets and hot water, both a first in over a month. And the grounds were lovely, with courtyards and gardens complete with turtles. Too bad we didn't bother to test the pool. I did jump in twice but both times the freezing water made me think I was going into cardiac arrest. I tried to tough it out to get Justin to jump in, but he wasn't having it. He had been really keen on the pool and in the end he didn't even get in. We did however, see the men's finals of the Australian Open. Federer is killing me.
Udaipur, is the most beautiful place I have seen since we arrived in India, and might possibly be the most beautiful place in the world. The ghats, where men and women come to bathe and do laundry, are stunning. From every rooftop there is a view of spectacular temples, palaces and city architecture. It reminded me of Italy or Greece, although i haven't actually been to Greece. We dined on the rooftops, in small courtyards. We shopped at beautiful artisan shops and paid a pittance. I bought perfume, and leather bags, I bought a turban and a new leather journal. Justin and I also had massages with an incredible man named Raju.
Raju knows exactly what ails you just by looking at you. He can tell you all about your body with the slightest touch. His massages are not always relaxing, although my proved to be very relaxing* but they definitely make you feel lighter, and can improve even the most nagging pain.
We stayed in Udaipur for a full week, and got into a very nice routine. We had breakfast everyday in the courtyard of Mahendra Prakash . We had the best service, and they would bring anything to our rooms, including the doctor, for Justin. Don't worry though, I am still fine.
We did yoga, also on a rooftop. The views could rival any romantic images of India you could conjure. The sun would pour over us as we did our sun salutations and shavasanas. And everyday was relaxing and leisurely.
We hiked to the Monsoon Palace and toured the City Palace and the Jagdish Temple. We even had high tea in one of the fancy hotels in the City Palace Complex, it was divine. Honestly the week flew by too fast. But we did meet some lovely people, and we even convinced our new friend Lucy to come with us to Pushkar.
Highlights of Udaipur
profound beauty
the walk from our hotel to the centre of town
tea at the City Palace
hiking to Monsoon Palace
Lucy, Emma, Sian, Steve, Mike and Raju
the warm days and cool nights of the Indian desert.
Lowlights of Udaipur
the pool at the Manhendra Prakash - unswimmable
*Without giving it all away ( I'll save that for those of you that actually care. My massage with Raju was borderline sex therapy, and I would definitely recommend it.)
And we had a few amazing meals, (especially the Masala Raman Noodles.)
And then we were off to Udaipur in the northern province of Rajasthan. We flew Kingfisher from Mumbai, and got stopped by the police on our way to the airport. No big deal but afterward the taxi driver and I had a very simplistic discussion in which we each conveyed our sincere believe that police are very bad business, and best to avoid.
We had a fairly uneventful flight only a few things are worth noting. 1.) Although the line-up to check in was very long it moved very quickly. Too quickly for me. I thought I was all packed and ready to go, but then my shoe broke, we forgot to take our liquids out of our carry-ons, the backpacks were not properly tied up, we didn't have any identification on them, etc etc. Point being I caused a huge slow down at the check in desk, and became one of the people I loath at the airport. You know the type.
Next item of note. Our landing in Udaipur was terrifying. At first I thought it was just me, then just me and Justin. But no. Looking around i saw many a worried face. Very foggy, very bumpy. But then the landing was surprisingly soft. Just goes to show what I know.
Lots of kooky white people at the airport. Justin and i have been playing guess where those whities are from? "American I think"
Now to Udaipur. We splurged on our hotel. It had a pool! And was phenomenally beautiful. we had blankets and hot water, both a first in over a month. And the grounds were lovely, with courtyards and gardens complete with turtles. Too bad we didn't bother to test the pool. I did jump in twice but both times the freezing water made me think I was going into cardiac arrest. I tried to tough it out to get Justin to jump in, but he wasn't having it. He had been really keen on the pool and in the end he didn't even get in. We did however, see the men's finals of the Australian Open. Federer is killing me.
Udaipur, is the most beautiful place I have seen since we arrived in India, and might possibly be the most beautiful place in the world. The ghats, where men and women come to bathe and do laundry, are stunning. From every rooftop there is a view of spectacular temples, palaces and city architecture. It reminded me of Italy or Greece, although i haven't actually been to Greece. We dined on the rooftops, in small courtyards. We shopped at beautiful artisan shops and paid a pittance. I bought perfume, and leather bags, I bought a turban and a new leather journal. Justin and I also had massages with an incredible man named Raju.
Raju knows exactly what ails you just by looking at you. He can tell you all about your body with the slightest touch. His massages are not always relaxing, although my proved to be very relaxing* but they definitely make you feel lighter, and can improve even the most nagging pain.
We stayed in Udaipur for a full week, and got into a very nice routine. We had breakfast everyday in the courtyard of Mahendra Prakash . We had the best service, and they would bring anything to our rooms, including the doctor, for Justin. Don't worry though, I am still fine.
We did yoga, also on a rooftop. The views could rival any romantic images of India you could conjure. The sun would pour over us as we did our sun salutations and shavasanas. And everyday was relaxing and leisurely.
We hiked to the Monsoon Palace and toured the City Palace and the Jagdish Temple. We even had high tea in one of the fancy hotels in the City Palace Complex, it was divine. Honestly the week flew by too fast. But we did meet some lovely people, and we even convinced our new friend Lucy to come with us to Pushkar.
Highlights of Udaipur
profound beauty
the walk from our hotel to the centre of town
tea at the City Palace
hiking to Monsoon Palace
Lucy, Emma, Sian, Steve, Mike and Raju
the warm days and cool nights of the Indian desert.
Lowlights of Udaipur
the pool at the Manhendra Prakash - unswimmable
*Without giving it all away ( I'll save that for those of you that actually care. My massage with Raju was borderline sex therapy, and I would definitely recommend it.)
Mumbai is to Bombay as ...
When Justin and I got to India we flew in to Mumbai but all we saw was this.
well hello there
The Sea Link is the shit
Who wants to be a millionaire?
Bandra
"Mummy can we take a rickshaw?"
ps. I have illegally copied these images from the Internet without crediting the photographers. Just thought you should know.
HTLGN - Canada
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHyNhMcHrFk&feature=related
It is such a pain that HTLGN Canada has requested that youtube disable the embed but at least I got to see it. And now so can you. Don't worry you only need to watch the first 30 seconds.
It is such a pain that HTLGN Canada has requested that youtube disable the embed but at least I got to see it. And now so can you. Don't worry you only need to watch the first 30 seconds.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Got To Goa
We arrived in Goa in the afternoon thinking we could just hop in a rickshaw to Agonda. Unfortunately Agonda was quite a bit further than we thought and it turned out we needed to pull a rickshaw, bus, rickshaw combo to get there. No sweat for us, Justin and I are old pros. Getting to the bus station and finding the bus was easy, but as we got on board the conductor stopped us and mumbled something incoherent about our bags. We were trying to figure out what he was saying while standing on the practically empty bus when he pointed to the roof indicating that that is where our bags needed to go. So I told Justin I would figure it out. Now I was assuming that he was going to get some guy to take care of the bags, but instead he took off to the chai stand leaving me standing there looking at a ladder up to the roof. Well, I guess I am on my own.
I hoisted Justin's pack on my back and started climbing the ladder . I had gathered quite an intrigued crowd, mostly men who started watching me and discussing my bus scaling technique. I managed to get to the top no problem but then started to feel a bit panicked because getting to the top of the ladder was relatively easy but actually getting from the ladder to the bus was going to be another matter. I employed a sort of awkward inch worm shuffle, covering myself in dirt and grime while prostrating on the roof of the bus. But at least I didn't fall or dropped the pack in the process. A success, since as I slid onto the bus I was shimming awkwardly side to side and had several white knuckle moments where the pack lurched to one side or the other. But I made it. I tentatively darted across the corrugated metal roof to the rack and clip the pack to the frame so that it didn't go flying off the back of the bus. I then made my way back to the ladder. And again panic set in. I am sure you have experienced the sensation at the top of a rather steep ladder or hill when you realize you are going to have to swing your legs over the ledge and go back down. And it dawned on me right then that when we arrive I, ( read Justin,) was going to have to do the descent with the pack on. But the crowd watching me had grown and I couldn't very well stay up there on the top of the bus. I had to get down and get the other pack up there. So I swallowed my fear and descended the ladder.Then as I was coming down I saw Justin through the window of the bus sitting facing the other direction gazing peacefully out the window. Hmmm, I thought, what is wrong with this picture? Here I am covered in dust, and in all white I might add, and my strong male companion is resting comfortably on the bus waving at children. But I didn't want to disappoint my supporters now, since I could see they had called a number of other men over to watch me attempt the second pack. So I hoisted my pack and up I went. All the timing fretting and wishing I could stay up there rather than come down again. But again I made it up and back in one piece.
After my time as a Sherpa I got on the bus and Justin, true to form says, "girl you're filthy." Well he didn't say it but I can tell he's thinking it. "That was quite an experience. I had to climb those packs up there myself." I hinted
"good work girl," he said. Obviously the feat was lost on him. And then sure enough we were off. When we arrived in the town where we were meant to disembark I'd figured out what we were going to do about unloading our packs, since it is all I had been thinking about for the last fifteen minutes. While Justin is big and strong I thought his height might make carrying those packs on the ladder actually more difficult. So instead I told him I will climb up and hand the packs over the ledge to you. A rather simpler system. From there we are supposed to get a rickshaw, but there were any only taxis. Of course. Taxis being considerably more expensive.
Justin and I haggled with the lone taxi driver and eventually agreed on the fare to Agonda. Haggling is such an art, especially since you almost never know how much anything is actually worth. But a good rule of thumb is to ask the price, and then no matter what is said cut it in half or maybe even two thirds as a counter-offer. This usually is met by a look of shock indicating that you have greatly offended. Then they will ask you for your real price. And you should repeat your low-ball offer. From there they will give you a counter offer, which you should indicate is equally as offensive. Thank them and begin to walk away, that is when the price usually starts to drop to something in the reasonable range. Once the offers start to get reasonable give an inch and then don't budge. Deal done!
So we get in the taxi and ride out to Agonda. Agonda is beautiful and if I were to go back to Goa, Agonda is where I would go. For four days we sat on the beach without anyone bothering us. We slept in a hut literally 100 feet from the sea. And we met some really nice travelers, including a David Hainey doppelganger, Chad from Vancouver traveling with his eccentric Quebecois father Michelle. Michelle made fun of me for being American," he could tell," he said. Although he did tell me I sounded very Canadian when we were discussing the cheapest places to ski in Europe. Funny guy. Michelle and Chad were cruising around India on an Enfield Bullet. Very cool. It was also in Agonda that we experienced one of the highlight moments of the trip so far.
Agonda, we had learned is a very quiet place. Everywhere is usually dead by 10pm. But on the night we arrived, there was going to be a dance performance at the restaurant affiliated with our huts, Dock 'n' Chill is the name. We were sitting in the lovely lounge area smoking tobacco from the hookah with Chad and Michelle and Justin's friend Heidi, who was the reason we came to Agonda. There was a large party of Indians also there, as well as dozens of other travelers watching the dancing. It was quite a party and then all of a sudden the bar man yelled, "drinks are on the house." That was definitely a first, and took the festivities to a new level. Everyone had a great night dancing, drinking, and generally enjoying the festive atmosphere. At midnight an official showed up to shut the party down. We learned later that this was a very rare event in Agonda, and that the party was in honor of the Goan president of Shell Oil, who was there celebrating his birthday. One of those spontaneously lucky moments in life where everything falls into place and it seems that it is just for you. Actually the whole experience in Agonda was like that.
Highlights of Agonda
partying with Mr. Shell Oil
relaxing on the beach with practically no one else in sight.
meeting other interesting travelers
yoga on the rooftop of the ashram where Heidi is staying
sleeping to the sounds of the waves
Lowlights of Agonda
none, it was perfect
Justin and I were sad to leave a few days later. We weren't sure that we were making the right choice leaving Agonda for another beach town in Goa, Arambol, in the north. But we were planning to meet some other travelers, Sean and Aileen that we had met, and were looking forward to seeing the countryside of Goa, so off we went. We had noticed that the travel infrastructure of Goa seemed decidedly less built up than in other parts of India and so we decided to hire a driver to drive us to Arambol. We also thought that it might be nice to have a local give us a bit of a tour in the capital city. Unfortunately Ashok, our driver, wasn't much of a tour guide although he did stop in Old Goa so that we could see the Basilica Bom Jesus. They have some saint's body in there that hasn't decomposed in over 400 years. They used to take his body down every year so people could celebrate and revere him. But they had to stop doing that a few years back cause some woman bent down as if to kiss his foot and bit off his toe, claiming to be his descendant and wanting to take a piece of her relative home with her.
After touring Old Goa for a while we got back on the road to Arambol. When we got to town we had Ashok drop us off at the hotel that Aileen and Sean were staying and booked a room. At first we thought being on the second floor in the corner unit would be nice, boy were we wrong. About 100 meters away from us was the local Russian trance bar which serenaded us every night and into the dawn. The trance bar really sums up Arambol. Sean later told us that it was totally different when he had been there ten years ago. And I imagine that in about ten years Agonda could have the same fate. It was very built up in Arambol and seemed to be attracting a certain type of tourist. (Read pain in the ass nouveau riche Russians.) There was also a large population of trapped-in-time hippies who must have come to Arambol in the 70's and never left. In fact if they ever stopped smoking charras long enough they might be as startled by the changes as Sean.
The one highlight of Arambol was the Wednesday market in the neighboring town of Ajuna. The market was a hotbed of activity and we went with Sean who is a haggling pro. In fact he taught us a few tricks of the trade. And he was the one who told us that our counter offers needed to be shamefully low. The way he figured if the vendors could give us a two hundred percent mark up without batting an eyelash why can't we suggest an equally outrageous counter offer. Sean is also a shopaholic so it was quite amusing to watch him go full force in the stalls. He was also great because he took us to the Hotel Buena Vista for lunch so we could go swimming in their incredible pool. Thus we avoided the mid day heat at the market. When we got back to the market we were feeling very refreshed while all the stall vendors and other tourists were looking a little lethargic. It was then that we got some of the best deals of the day. I bought a beautiful green silk sari and a silver duvet cover with matching pillow cases. The bedspread and pillow cases cost me all of about $25.00. Imagine getting silk bedding at home for that price?! Justin also scored some great deals on some Indian style shirts and Ali baba pants. Suffice it to say it was a very successful shop.
The only other memorable day in Arambol was Republic Day, which happened while we were in town. In India they celebrate major national holidays totally differently than we do back home. The most distinct difference is that Republic Day is a dry day. Can you imagine no booze on Canada Day? It is almost sacrilegious! But we got around that one. Our buddy Raj, who was our waiter on the beach everyday made us pina colada's and told us that if anyone asked it was just fruit shakes. Thanks Raj! We spent the day getting pina coladaed on the beach, sunning in perfect weather, (sorry Torontoians) and frolicking in the sea. Then in the evening the local football (read soccer) club hosted a five a side tournament. It was actually quite impressive. They set up a full pitch in the sand with lights for when it got dark, and they even had an announcer and music blaring through the speakers. Although you couldn't understand a word he said. We didn't stay to see who won since it appeared the tournament was going to go until the early hours of the morning. But it was a really fun evening in Arambol. And then before we knew it it was time to head to Bombay to meet Teresa and Charlie.
highlights of Arambol
shopping in Anjuna
swimming at the Buena Vista hotel pool
Republic Day
Raj our cabana boy
football tournament
hanging out with Sean and Aileen
lowlights of Arambol
everything else about Arambol, with particular emphasis on sleeping within earshot of the trance club.
I hoisted Justin's pack on my back and started climbing the ladder . I had gathered quite an intrigued crowd, mostly men who started watching me and discussing my bus scaling technique. I managed to get to the top no problem but then started to feel a bit panicked because getting to the top of the ladder was relatively easy but actually getting from the ladder to the bus was going to be another matter. I employed a sort of awkward inch worm shuffle, covering myself in dirt and grime while prostrating on the roof of the bus. But at least I didn't fall or dropped the pack in the process. A success, since as I slid onto the bus I was shimming awkwardly side to side and had several white knuckle moments where the pack lurched to one side or the other. But I made it. I tentatively darted across the corrugated metal roof to the rack and clip the pack to the frame so that it didn't go flying off the back of the bus. I then made my way back to the ladder. And again panic set in. I am sure you have experienced the sensation at the top of a rather steep ladder or hill when you realize you are going to have to swing your legs over the ledge and go back down. And it dawned on me right then that when we arrive I, ( read Justin,) was going to have to do the descent with the pack on. But the crowd watching me had grown and I couldn't very well stay up there on the top of the bus. I had to get down and get the other pack up there. So I swallowed my fear and descended the ladder.Then as I was coming down I saw Justin through the window of the bus sitting facing the other direction gazing peacefully out the window. Hmmm, I thought, what is wrong with this picture? Here I am covered in dust, and in all white I might add, and my strong male companion is resting comfortably on the bus waving at children. But I didn't want to disappoint my supporters now, since I could see they had called a number of other men over to watch me attempt the second pack. So I hoisted my pack and up I went. All the timing fretting and wishing I could stay up there rather than come down again. But again I made it up and back in one piece.
After my time as a Sherpa I got on the bus and Justin, true to form says, "girl you're filthy." Well he didn't say it but I can tell he's thinking it. "That was quite an experience. I had to climb those packs up there myself." I hinted
"good work girl," he said. Obviously the feat was lost on him. And then sure enough we were off. When we arrived in the town where we were meant to disembark I'd figured out what we were going to do about unloading our packs, since it is all I had been thinking about for the last fifteen minutes. While Justin is big and strong I thought his height might make carrying those packs on the ladder actually more difficult. So instead I told him I will climb up and hand the packs over the ledge to you. A rather simpler system. From there we are supposed to get a rickshaw, but there were any only taxis. Of course. Taxis being considerably more expensive.
Justin and I haggled with the lone taxi driver and eventually agreed on the fare to Agonda. Haggling is such an art, especially since you almost never know how much anything is actually worth. But a good rule of thumb is to ask the price, and then no matter what is said cut it in half or maybe even two thirds as a counter-offer. This usually is met by a look of shock indicating that you have greatly offended. Then they will ask you for your real price. And you should repeat your low-ball offer. From there they will give you a counter offer, which you should indicate is equally as offensive. Thank them and begin to walk away, that is when the price usually starts to drop to something in the reasonable range. Once the offers start to get reasonable give an inch and then don't budge. Deal done!
So we get in the taxi and ride out to Agonda. Agonda is beautiful and if I were to go back to Goa, Agonda is where I would go. For four days we sat on the beach without anyone bothering us. We slept in a hut literally 100 feet from the sea. And we met some really nice travelers, including a David Hainey doppelganger, Chad from Vancouver traveling with his eccentric Quebecois father Michelle. Michelle made fun of me for being American," he could tell," he said. Although he did tell me I sounded very Canadian when we were discussing the cheapest places to ski in Europe. Funny guy. Michelle and Chad were cruising around India on an Enfield Bullet. Very cool. It was also in Agonda that we experienced one of the highlight moments of the trip so far.
Agonda, we had learned is a very quiet place. Everywhere is usually dead by 10pm. But on the night we arrived, there was going to be a dance performance at the restaurant affiliated with our huts, Dock 'n' Chill is the name. We were sitting in the lovely lounge area smoking tobacco from the hookah with Chad and Michelle and Justin's friend Heidi, who was the reason we came to Agonda. There was a large party of Indians also there, as well as dozens of other travelers watching the dancing. It was quite a party and then all of a sudden the bar man yelled, "drinks are on the house." That was definitely a first, and took the festivities to a new level. Everyone had a great night dancing, drinking, and generally enjoying the festive atmosphere. At midnight an official showed up to shut the party down. We learned later that this was a very rare event in Agonda, and that the party was in honor of the Goan president of Shell Oil, who was there celebrating his birthday. One of those spontaneously lucky moments in life where everything falls into place and it seems that it is just for you. Actually the whole experience in Agonda was like that.
Highlights of Agonda
partying with Mr. Shell Oil
relaxing on the beach with practically no one else in sight.
meeting other interesting travelers
yoga on the rooftop of the ashram where Heidi is staying
sleeping to the sounds of the waves
Lowlights of Agonda
none, it was perfect
Justin and I were sad to leave a few days later. We weren't sure that we were making the right choice leaving Agonda for another beach town in Goa, Arambol, in the north. But we were planning to meet some other travelers, Sean and Aileen that we had met, and were looking forward to seeing the countryside of Goa, so off we went. We had noticed that the travel infrastructure of Goa seemed decidedly less built up than in other parts of India and so we decided to hire a driver to drive us to Arambol. We also thought that it might be nice to have a local give us a bit of a tour in the capital city. Unfortunately Ashok, our driver, wasn't much of a tour guide although he did stop in Old Goa so that we could see the Basilica Bom Jesus. They have some saint's body in there that hasn't decomposed in over 400 years. They used to take his body down every year so people could celebrate and revere him. But they had to stop doing that a few years back cause some woman bent down as if to kiss his foot and bit off his toe, claiming to be his descendant and wanting to take a piece of her relative home with her.
After touring Old Goa for a while we got back on the road to Arambol. When we got to town we had Ashok drop us off at the hotel that Aileen and Sean were staying and booked a room. At first we thought being on the second floor in the corner unit would be nice, boy were we wrong. About 100 meters away from us was the local Russian trance bar which serenaded us every night and into the dawn. The trance bar really sums up Arambol. Sean later told us that it was totally different when he had been there ten years ago. And I imagine that in about ten years Agonda could have the same fate. It was very built up in Arambol and seemed to be attracting a certain type of tourist. (Read pain in the ass nouveau riche Russians.) There was also a large population of trapped-in-time hippies who must have come to Arambol in the 70's and never left. In fact if they ever stopped smoking charras long enough they might be as startled by the changes as Sean.
The one highlight of Arambol was the Wednesday market in the neighboring town of Ajuna. The market was a hotbed of activity and we went with Sean who is a haggling pro. In fact he taught us a few tricks of the trade. And he was the one who told us that our counter offers needed to be shamefully low. The way he figured if the vendors could give us a two hundred percent mark up without batting an eyelash why can't we suggest an equally outrageous counter offer. Sean is also a shopaholic so it was quite amusing to watch him go full force in the stalls. He was also great because he took us to the Hotel Buena Vista for lunch so we could go swimming in their incredible pool. Thus we avoided the mid day heat at the market. When we got back to the market we were feeling very refreshed while all the stall vendors and other tourists were looking a little lethargic. It was then that we got some of the best deals of the day. I bought a beautiful green silk sari and a silver duvet cover with matching pillow cases. The bedspread and pillow cases cost me all of about $25.00. Imagine getting silk bedding at home for that price?! Justin also scored some great deals on some Indian style shirts and Ali baba pants. Suffice it to say it was a very successful shop.
The only other memorable day in Arambol was Republic Day, which happened while we were in town. In India they celebrate major national holidays totally differently than we do back home. The most distinct difference is that Republic Day is a dry day. Can you imagine no booze on Canada Day? It is almost sacrilegious! But we got around that one. Our buddy Raj, who was our waiter on the beach everyday made us pina colada's and told us that if anyone asked it was just fruit shakes. Thanks Raj! We spent the day getting pina coladaed on the beach, sunning in perfect weather, (sorry Torontoians) and frolicking in the sea. Then in the evening the local football (read soccer) club hosted a five a side tournament. It was actually quite impressive. They set up a full pitch in the sand with lights for when it got dark, and they even had an announcer and music blaring through the speakers. Although you couldn't understand a word he said. We didn't stay to see who won since it appeared the tournament was going to go until the early hours of the morning. But it was a really fun evening in Arambol. And then before we knew it it was time to head to Bombay to meet Teresa and Charlie.
highlights of Arambol
shopping in Anjuna
swimming at the Buena Vista hotel pool
Republic Day
Raj our cabana boy
football tournament
hanging out with Sean and Aileen
lowlights of Arambol
everything else about Arambol, with particular emphasis on sleeping within earshot of the trance club.
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