A Year of Superlatives

Now that we have been back in Vancouver for a week, we have had the opportunity to review our photos from the past year (we have about 5000, not including our wedding photos - that'd be 138 rolls of film in the old days!) It’s a bit surreal being back home – in some ways it doesn’t feel like we’ve been gone for a year. Our job and home searches have begun, and we’re beginning to settle back into our “other reality”.

Looking back at our year away, it’s fun to reflect on the all the amazing things we’ve seen:
* the world’s highest waterfall, Angel Falls (Venezuela)
* the world’s biggest river, the Amazon (Brazil)
* one of the new seven wonders of the world, Machu Picchu (Peru)
* one of the world’s natural wonders, the Galapagos Islands (Ecuador)
* the world’s largest salt flat, Uyuni (Bolivia)
* the world’s highest navigable lake, Titicaca (Bolivia)
* the highest mountain in the southern hemisphere, Aconcagua (Argentina)
* another of the world’s new wonders, the Great Wall of China
* the world’s highest mountain, Everest (from both sides, Tibet and Nepal)
* another of the world’s new wonders, the Taj Mahal (India)
* one of the most historic walks in the world, El Camino de Santiago (Spain)

Oh, and we got married in New Zealand, too!

It’s been an amazing year – one in which we have grown in our relationship together, and have met some wonderful people from around the world. Now we begin another stage of our life journey together, back in Canada. We're glad you've visited our website to follow us on our travels. Check back for more adventures soon.

Location: Vancouver, Canada

Our last couple weeks

After finishing El Camino, we were ready for a rest, so we headed to the beach at Sanxenxo on the Galician Coast. We joined hundreds of Spanish holidaymakers, mostly families who spent their days basking in the hot sun, and occasionally swimming in the warm(ish) waters of the Atlantic. Although far from the running of the bulls in the city of Pamplona, the festival of San Fermin was celebrated in Galicia, with fireworks and revellers painting the town dressed in the traditional white pants and shirt with red scarf and belt.

On July 9th we flew to London for the final four days of our year-long journey. It was so nice to be in a country where English was the first language, and where there was an incredible variety of foods at the supermarket. No more white bread and processed cheese! The last time we were in London was at the end of Edwin’s around-the-world bicycle adventure. It is an amazing city, and we spent a couple of days visiting the National Art Gallery, the Tate Modern Museum, and the British Museum. A visit to London wouldn’t be complete without taking in one show, and we saw the Lion King performed at the Lyceum Theatre.

We also spent one day taking the train out to Salisbury to visit Stonehenge. It was astounding to see the 5000 year old stones formed in a circle which act as a calendar when the sun shines through the different gaps in the rock. It’s still a mystery as to how and why this wonder was constructed. We were also very happy to catch up with friends Nic and Maria and their baby daughter Amelie, Baljit, Sat and Marc on our last night in the city.

Location: Vancouver, Canada

El Camino de Santiago - 892kms walked, 0 to go

We did it! On July 1st, we stood at the end of Cabo Finisterre, looking out at the Atlantic Ocean, and even if we had wanted to take another step, we couldn´t have done it without swimming. It was a pretty incredible feeling, knowing we had walked from the border of France to the ocean, and that we had followed in the footsteps of millions of pilgrims who have made the same journey as us, over the past thousand years.

The final stats:
892kms by our pedometer (890 - 915kms by the guide books)
38 walking days
1.2 million steps

After we left Leon, we left the flat of the meseta, and headed for the mountains and hills of Galicia, a region of Spain where time seems to have stood still for the past 100 years. Tiny farms, and villages made entirely of stone buildings characterize this relatively poor area of Spain, where agriculture and fishing are the primary industries. Normally the climate in this area is quite Mediterranean-like, but unfortunately this year has been one of the coldest and wettest for the western part of Spain, and our Peruvian ponchos were used many, many times.

Some of the highlights of our walk through Galicia include helping ourselves to the delicious cherries that grew by the path - we´re pretty sure the locals would have wanted us pilgrims to eat them! We spent one night in the Monasterio de Samos, which was founded around the 5th/6th century and is one of the oldest monasteries in the western world. While in the town of Arzua, we celebrated the festival of San Juan on the night of summer solstace. A 6m high castle made of wood and scaffolding is burned, along with a box containing written wishes of the children of the town. A fellow pilgrim was named Queen of the Festival, and she was serenaded by the beautiful sounds of the Galician bagpipes as she was escorted from the albergue to the festival in a vintage limo.

The closer we got to Santiago, the more people joined the walk. Especially after Sarria (near to the 100km mark), there were many new perigrinos, including large school groups, and escorted tours. They added a new, fun dimension to the walk, and made us "oldtimers" feel like hardened experts. As we started to see the markers counting down less than 100kms to Santiago, we weren´t quite sure we were ready to be finished, but we knew that we would be walking another 100kms to the ocean.

Walking into Santiago was a pretty special experience. This was the final destination for the majority of the pilgrims. There were many small reunions of people in the cathedral and in the plaza outside. We attended the special pilgrims´ mass and listened as the nationalities and places where each group of people started their Camino were read out. Although we couldn´t understand the mass, it was quite emotional, knowing we were attending with dozens of people from all over the world who had walked at least part of the Camino.

After one rest day, we began the final leg of our walk, four more days to the Atlantic. Our final days were quite long, and we discovered that even after walking 800kms, we still had a hard time walking 30kms each day for the final 3 days. As we entered Muxia, at the northern end of the Costa da Morte, we could see the ocean for the first time since we had left Japan. The town was pretty, and we spent the evening at the Sanctuario de Virxe da Barca (Sanctuary of the Virgin of the Boat). The legend is that the Virgin Mary appeared to St. James in a stone ship during a down spell in his missionary activity in Spain. There are large, strangely shaped rocks on the beach that are supposed to resemble the remains of Mary´s ship - the sail, the hull, and the rudder.

The next day we walked our final 30km day into Finisterre. Unfortunately, but a bit typical for us, it poured rain, and we had a hard time finding our way at times on the poorly marked route. But, we did quite well tracking the boot prints and stray tissue of other pilgrims to find our way without getting too lost. Too tired to walk the 3kms to the cape, we found a nice hostel and ate our final menu del dia with a glass of wine to celebrate. The next day we made our way to the cape, and as tradition dictates, we had fun burning our stinky shirts on the rocks.

It has been an amazing 6 weeks, walking across a country, meeting many wonderful people along the way and visiting some amazing sights. There´s a real sense of community living in the albergues, sometimes good and sometimes bad. We´ve been inspired by the stories of the people who have walked along the Camino, but have heard so much snoring, and seen far too many saggy-bum old men wander around the albergues in their tighty whities. We had a hard time saying good-bye to our many new friends as we return now to our respective countries and lives away from the Camino.

It´s hard to believe we will be back in Vancouver in just 11 days. So much has happened in the year that we´ve been away, and we have had so many magical experiences and memories. We head to the little beach town of Sanxenxo now, for a little holiday before returning to Vancouver on July 13, after spending 4 nights in London.

Location: Santiago de Compostela, Spain

El Camino de Santiago - 463kms walked, about 440 to go

After 21 days of walking, we have now officially passed the half-way mark to reaching Santiago de Compostella. We´re enjoying the walk so much, we have decided that if our feet will bear us, we will walk not just to Santiago, but the additional 110kms to the Costa de Morte (the death coast) of the Atlantic. The coast is infamous for many shipwrecks, and our final destination will now be Finisterre, which appropriately means "end of the earth".

Since our last journal entry, we have walked through the city of Burgos, and dozens of tiny towns which dot the plains of the meseta, in central-northern Spain. The terrain has been flat, flat, flat, with fields of cereals, big skies streaked with the contrails of passing jets, and towns where you can see the towers of the cathedral at least 3 to 4kms before you will arrive there. Almost all the towers of the churches provide perfect spots for at least 4 or 5 storks to build their nests.

Our legs and backs are feeling strong, and our feet were doing quite well, until 3 days ago, when we had our longest day yet - 39kms. We had planned to walk 27kms (which was already a bit longer than our usual 23-25kms) but when we arrived at Terradillos de los Templarios, the one albergue in town was full. Another 6kms and we arrived at San Nicolas, which unfortunately was also full. So, another 7kms and we arrived hot and exhausted and blistery at Sahagun, where fortunately there were lots of beds. It was the first time that there was "no room at the inn" for us, and we are hoping that as more and more pilgrims join the route, it won´t always be a mad dash for a bed. Our legs handled the distance no problem, but our feet are still recovering from the blisters we received.

It´s a cool thing to walk with your spouse for six to seven hours each day. Our conversations range from some serious stuff, to streams of jokes from Edwin (which he may have told me more than once since we´ve been together as I always forget the punch lines), to our daily scavenger hunt for things along the road - 50 points each for mice (dead or alive), millipedes, snails, slugs, and lizards.

We continue to meet some very nice peregrinos (pilgrims) along the way. There´s a saying on the Camino that you will always see the same people at least twice, and so far this has proved to be true. We tend to take more rest days than most, as we have much more time, but we seem to catch up somehow to some of the same people with whom we started in France.

We have just arrived in Leon, a city of 130,000 people, and the last large city before we reach Santiago. We arrived in time to take in some of the festivities for Corpus Christi - there was a huge procession with people carrying statues, interspersed by girls in white throwing flowers and confetti, and accompanied by a brass band. Tomorrow we will take a rest day to look at the spectacular cathedral and old walled city. The next part of our walk will include some mountain ranges, so it will be good to give our feet a day to rest.

Location: Leon, Spain

El Camino de Santiago - 213kms walked, 600 to go

It´s hard to believe, but we are more than one quarter of the way to completing El Camino de Santiago (St. James' Way in English). After 10 days of walking and 2 days of resting in Pamplona, we have walked 213kms from St. Jean Pied de Port in France, to our current location in Santo Domingo de la Calzada. The first 3 days were definitely the most challenging, up and over the Pyrenees in rain and wind. With sore feet, and my knee and right hip complaining, we decided to take 2 rest days in Pamplona, after just 3 days of walking. Our bodies definitely liked this break, and the past 7 days from Pamplona to Santo Domingo de la Calzada have been great - we have adjusted well to the routine, our packs feel good (especially after posting 3.5 kgs ahead to be waiting for us in Santiago), and now we just have to take good care of our blistered and bruised feet.

It´s a pretty amazing feeling to be walking on the route (if not the exact path) that millions of pilgrims over the past 1000+ years have traversed in order to reach Santiago de Compostela, where the remains of St. James are reputedly buried. Even now, about 26,000 pilgrims each year walk the 800km route from St. Jean Pied de Port in France to Santiago, and over 100,000 pilgrims annually walk the last 100kms to Santiago, which according to tradition qualifies them for half their time off purgatory. The route also sees many bicyclists, who we watch with envy on the flats and downhill stretches (they have to cycle 200kms for the purgatory discount). The Camino is well marked by yellow arrows painted on rocks, signposts, farmers' fences and any other stationery object along the way, as well as badges of a yellow scallop. The scallop shell (which many pilgrims also have tied to their packs) has several different meanings - some say it is a pagan fertility symbol, others that it is a symbol that the pilgrim has successfully reached the ocean.

The routine of the day is quite similar to trekking in Nepal - lights come on at about 6:00, we race for the bathroom, dress and pack, and scarf down some bread, yoghurt and fruit. We then join the other pilgrims in our routines of bandaging our feet with plasters, bandages and duct tape (the best thing we´ve found to prevent and protect blisters). We set out around 7:00. Each day we walk 20 to 24 kms through varied terrain - some on roads, much on trails and on the farmers' roads through vineyards and huge fields of wheat, barley and oats. There are also splashes of brilliant red - fields of poppies like we have never seen before. We pass through the little villages, most of which seem deserted, pause to see the monuments and crosses along the way, and usually stop for some packed lunch of baguette and cheese at about 11:00. We usually arrive at our next destination between 1:00 and 2:00, which co-oincides with the long afternoon siesta. With no shops open until at least 5:00, we check in to the albergue (guesthouse) for a shower and nap until shops are open at 5:00 and restaurants start serving dinner at 7:00. We then join the other pilgrims at restaurants that offer special 3 course meals for the walkers, complete with all the bread and wine we can consume. To bed by 9:00 and lights off at 9:30. The albergues along the way are generally huge dormitories with bunk beds and communal showers and toilets. Accommodation is around $7.50 per person, or sometimes by donation. We are very happy that we have good earplugs to block out the snorers!

There are many interesting traditions and sights along the way. At the albergues, and sometimes at churches and tourist offices we collect stamps in our "Credencial" or Pilgrim´s Passport - proof of where we have been and how far we have walked. We will need to present this in Santiago in order to receive our Compostello and time off purgatory (which by the way we are thinking of selling to the highest bidder!) Just outside of Estella, at the Bodega de Irache (Winery), we sampled some of the local wine that is dispensed free of charge from a fountain. Every town has at its centre a massive cathedral - often the altars are guilded in tonnes of gold. Our favourite cathedral so far has been the one in Santo Domingo de la Calzada, where for over 700 years, a white hen and cock have lived in a chicken coop inside the church. The chickens are donated by locals and are changed monthly. Tradition says that in approximately 1300 AD a married couple and their 18-year old son Hugonell arrived in Santo Domingo on their way to Santiago. The girl at the inn where they stayed fell in love with Hugonell, but when he refused her affections she planted a silver goblet in his luggage and told the local Magistrate. For this crime of robbery the innocent Hugonell was hanged. When his parents found out about their son´s demise they went to see him and heard his voice telling them that the patron Santo Domingo had saved his live. The parents went straight to the house of the Magistrate and told him of the miracle. Incredulous, the Magistrate replied that their son was about as alive as the roast cock and hen that he was about to eat. At that moment the cock and hen leaped from the plate and began to crow. Since then the city is famous for the lines "Santo Domingo de la Calzada - where the hen crows after being roasted."

The local response to the walkers has been very warm. Occasionally, horns are tooted in encouragement, and people wave and shout "Buen Camino" to us along the way. Just outside of Logrono, an older man cycled past handing out handfuls of walnuts and hazelnuts to all the pilgrims he saw along the way. We are a bit surprised however that there are very few facilities along the way and every day we join the many pilgrims who dash off the path into the vineyards or behind a bush.

Surprising to us, we are amongst the youngest people on the walk. The vast majority are seniors - retirees who have been planning for a long time to do the walk. Everyone has a unique story about how and why they are doing the walk. Most of the walkers are from Spain, France, and Germany, with a few Brazillians, Americans and Aussies thrown in as well. I think I am the only Canadian who is not from Quebec, and Edwin is the only Kiwi we have met. In the dorms, it´s common to hear 4 or 5 different languages spoken. The common themes seem to be regarding blister treatments, sharing bottles of wine, and cries of "Buen Camino". Some pilgrims walk faster than us, some slower, but as the days pass, we see the same core group of people each evening in town. One of our favourite pilgrims (although we have to communicate in broken French and Spanish with him) is a 75 year old Frenchman named Girhaud who did a portion of the Camino last year with his family, and has returned this year to do the entire route "before he dies". At the pace he keeps, we are sure he has many more years ahead of him.

Location: Santo Domingo de la Calzada, Spain

Friends and Food - our vists in Europe

On May 4 we flew on Virgin Atlantic (very good service) from Delhi to London Heathrow. Making our way through London was like arriving in another world compared to our past couple of months in Nepal and India - things were clean, trains were on time, people didn't stare or even try to sell us anything. We made our way to our friends Nic and Maria's flat where we had a quick visit and met their five and a half month old daughter Amelie for the first time. Nic and Maria had kindly agreed to store our excess luggage so we could travel lightly through Europe. We snacked and drank a quick glass of wine before catching the last train to London Stanstead Airport. We joined many other travellers who were sleeping at the airport (tucked under check-in counters, and sleeping in front of the closed shops). We found a quiet spot behind the Avis Rent-a-Car counter, and spread our newly bought Indian sleeping bags on the floor to settle in for the night. We found it funny that the floor of the airport building was much cleaner than some of the beds we had slept in while in India.

We managed to catch a few hours sleep, and flew the next morning to Munich, where we were greeted at the airport by Matt, an Aussie who had introduced Edwin and me to each other in Kathmandu in 2003. Matt bicycled from Perth, Scotland to Perth, Australia and had cycled with Edwin for a couple of months from Nepal through to Laos. I had met Matt at a bank in Varanasi, India. Matt worked as an engineer at the Hague before joining his German girlfriend Babette in Munich. We went with Matt to watch his team play an Aussie rules football match, Munich versus Frankfurt. An injury prevented Matt from playing, but he was asked to referee, which looked hard enough to us - they never stop running! After the match it started to pour and we ran through the rain to a bier garten where Matt introduced us to Bavarian style food and drink. Bretzen (pretzels) with a delicious dip of soft cheese and onion, and the one litre stein of beer, locally called a mass. The next day we went to Andechs Monastery, just south of Munich for more delicious Bavarian food and beer. The view of the countryside was beautiful - rolling hills with church steeples towering over small villages - just like the photo on the chocolate box. On our final day in Munich, Edwin and I wandered around the centre, looking at the old architecture, visting the Englischer Garten, and of course eating more bretzen.

On May 8, we took the train from Munich to Volkermarkt, in the province of Corinthia, very near to the Slovenia border. In 1988, I had been a member of a choir from Powell River which toured Europe and was hosted by families while in Volkermarkt. My friend Lorill and I were lucky to be billeted with Gerd and Kathi Bosse, a lovely couple with whom we formed a wonderful lasting friendship. Over the years, the Bosses had visited us in Canada in 1991 and 1996, and Lorill returned to Austria to visit them in 1996 as well. At 85 years, Gerd looks and acts like he is maybe 55, and at 68, we had a hard time keeping up with Kathi on our walks. They were thrilled to meet Edwin after hearing so much about him through letters and photos. We spent 5 days with them, visiting the local sights, going for walks, and eating amazing meals together. We settled quite easily into the routine of porridge and heavy rye bread with cheeses and jams for breakfast, soup and schnitzel and potatoes and veggies for lunch, cake and tea in the late afternoon, and more bread with cheeses in the evening, followed by ice cream and liqueurs. All the time we kept saying, "we'll be walking El Camino in a week".

Another scenic train ride put us in Vienna yesterday, and we've enjoyed strolling down the Mariahilfer Strasse, looking at the beautiful buildings, sidewalk cafes, and dozens of museums. Tonight we fly to Biarritz via Frankfurt, and we will begin the 800 km El Camino de Santiago in the next few days.

Location: Vienna, Austria

India the Cool - McLeod Ganj to Shimla

After 2 weeks of 40+ degree weather, we were more than ready to escape to the hills, and on May 18, we left the Punjab for the state of Himachal Pradesh, in the Himalayas. The role of guide switched, as Edwin had ridden his bicycle through Himachal Pradesh four years ago, while I never made it to this northern state.

Our first stop was the lovely town of McLeod Ganj, situated at 1700m, and 10 kms north of its more famously named neighbour Dharamshala. It seemed many foreigners had the same idea as us - seeking refuge in the cool mountains - there were many other travellers relaxing in town - some studying yoga, meditation, Buddhism, or Tibetan cooking. Although a very touristy place, we enjoyed the chilled out feeling of the town where the Dalai Lama and his Tibetan Government have lived in exile since 1959. There are many Tibetan refugees here, and the town has often been called "little Lhasa". Many monks live and study in the monasteries that dot the hillside, and one night we went to a cafe to listen to two Buddhist nuns tell their stories of torture and imprisonment by the Chinese during the 1990s. It's in McLeod Ganj that the "free Tibet" movement is perhaps its strongest, and it felt a bit strange to us that it was here, in India, and not in Tibet that we saw the Tibetan flag flying for the first time, and photos of the Dalai Lama - both are forbidden in Tibet. It also felt a big strange that the monasteries and temples here are quite new, having mostly been built since the Dalai Lama's arrival fifty years ago.

We spent five nights in McLeod Ganj reading, going for walks in the hills, visiting the monasteries and Tibetan museum, watching pirated movies, and sampling as many lemon-sugar pancakes and chocolate brownies as we could find. At the Dip Tse-Chok Ling Monastery we were blown away by fantastic sculptures made of butter. We also marvelled at the feeling of wearing our fleeces in the evenings and not sleeping under a fan for the first time in over two weeks.

We left McLeod Ganj on a night bus bound for Manali, which was only 252kms, but 10 hours away on a very windy, very bumpy road. We had paid a premium for a "deluxe" bus, but were only a little surprised when a 12 passenger van pulled up (this is India, after all!) We were very glad that we each took a motion sickness pill, as at least 3 passengers were sick out the front window. The driver drove like a maniac, and we arrived in Manali at 5:00 in the morning. We then hopped in an autorickshaw for an even smaller village, Vashisht, about 3 kms up the Kullu Valley. We stayed at a family guesthouse where Edwin had stayed 4 years ago, and the owner was thrilled that he had returned to stay a second time. Customer loyalty brought Edwin back to the guesthouse and it was our stomachs that kept us returning to Raju's rooftop restaurant next door at New Dharma Guesthouse where the food was "cheap and best" and his company was also outstanding. Things were very shanti (relaxed) in Vashisht and we spent our time sitting on our balcony enjoying the gorgeous view up the valley to the snow capped Himalayas. Apple orchards lined both sides of the Beas River, and on our most energetic day we went for a little walk through the pine forests to a small Hindu temple set just below a beautiful waterfall. At 2200m, Vashisht was very cool, to the point where I had to dig out a pair of socks to wear in the evening - yeah!

After four nights in Vashisht, we boarded our final Indian bus, bound for Shimla, the capital of Himachel Pradesh, and the former summer capital of India during the time of the British Raj. Close to Delhi and the Punjabi border, Shimla is a haven for Indian honeymooners and holidaymakers, and also home to troops of macaque monkeys. The main Mall is pedestrianized, lined with shops selling clothing, toys, balloons and ice creams to the Indian tourists and their children. Every day we would be sure to visit City Point cake shop (delicious chocolate walnut cake) and also the fruit market. The fruit vendor would wrap our bananas and mangoes in newspaper and we would hug these packages close to our chests to keep them safe from the macaques who strolled the streets looking for any opportunity to snatch a free snack. A family of macaques lived near to our hotel and we fed them from behind the safety of the bars on our hotel room windows (who's in the zoo now?)

For our return trip to Delhi, we boarded the Himalayan Queen rail from Shimla to Kalka which was a beautiful journey that wound through the rhododendrun forested mountains, passed through over 100 tunnels, and after 5.5 hours delivered us from 2200m back to the heat of 300m in altitude. We then boarded our second (air conditioned - yeah) train which took us back to New Delhi and the familiar surroundings of the touristy area called Paharganj.

Our last two days here have been filled with haircuts, laundry, internet and a little shopping in preparation for the last leg of our year-long journey - Europe. Tomorrow (May 4) we will fly to London and the next day we will fly to Munich. We are looking forward to visiting with Matt, our Aussie cupid who introduced Edwin and I over four years ago in Kathmandu, and his girlfriend Babette.

Location: New Delhi, India

More India-isms

Here are a few more India-isms that we thought were quite funny:

* When you check into a hotel, you should ask whether there will be power cuts or water cuts - there is almost always one or the other.
* Shops have dozens of strips of single serve shampoo, paan, and ketchup hanging from the ceiling. We heard a statistic that 60% of all shampoo in India is sold in single serve packets.
* Shopkeepers have a habit of talking over you, very loudly, not really listening if you have a complaint. Nepalis call Indians "the loud people". Their favourite saying is "no problem" or "as you like". They say it to any concern, issue, complaint you raise, but they don't really listen to what you're saying.
* In the state of Himachal Pradesh, the roads are so windy and bumpy that when you depart the bus, at least one side is guaranteed to be streaked with vomit.
* Indians are thrilled when they find out that you have returned to their place of business a second time (in our cases, after 4 years). Loyalty like this means the world to them.
* Indians are very surprised that two people from different countries can be married.
* School children often approach us and want to shake our hands (mine especially). Some families have asked us to pose for photos with them.
* Bollywood actors and cricket players seem to be present in almost all advertising.
* The use of English can be quite funny - a common expression painted on shops, hotels or restaurants is "cheap and best". You can buy "lite water"and "child beer".
* Touts will follow you from the train or bus station to a hotel that you have already chosen, and then try to tell the owner that they have brought you, in order to collect commission.
* One place where you can be confident you will NOT be cheated is on the trains. Tea, coffee, drinks, newspapers are all fixed price and the wallahs (salesmen) do not try to charge tourists a different price.
* At shops, it is very common for the shopkeeper to start serving you, then tell you to wait, serve a couple other people, and then come back to finish with you while you stand there.
* If you can distract a street kid from begging, they are really fun and love to joke around. We have one little friend in New Delhi who calls us Taxi (Edwin) and Ricksaw (me) and we call him Chapatti. This comes from the habit of touts appealing for business with cries of "Hello rickshaw, hello taxi". This hungry little boy called to us "Hello chapatti".

Location: New Delhi, India

India-isms

India is a mind-blowing, shocking, wonderful place that most travellers tend to both love and hate at times. There are so many things that make India India - here are a few India-isms that we have noticed and thought were interesting.

* About 90% of the men here have mustaches, beards, or both.
* About 90% of the men here will stare at a foreign woman, even if she is modestly dressed and covered from head to toe. But, when it comes time to talk, if the woman is with a male partner, she is pretty much ignored, and all questions and discussions are directed to her "husband".
* The soft drink bottles tell you "this drink contains no fruit".
* About 90% of the plates, cups and bowls have a very strange swirly brown pattern that we've never seen anywhere else.
* About 99% of all interactions with the Indian people are either with men or children. Women rarely speak with foreigners, except perhaps on the trains, when they are with their husbands.
* When Indians discover that Edwin is from New Zealand, immediately the conversation turns to the Cricket World Cup.
* There are delicious sweets called "barfi".
* At the post office, all parcels must be sewn up in cloth and sealed with wax, as this is the only way "to make sure that no one will open your parcel".
* The Indians have a remarkable head wobble gesture which may mean "yes, no, maybe, I don't know", or about a dozen other meanings we haven't quite figured out.
* On the roads, pedestrians outnumber bicycles, which outnumber bicycle-rickshaws, which outnumber auto-rickshaws, which outnumber buses, which outnumber trucks, which outnumber cars. Throw in several cows, a few bullock carts, the occasional camel and that's traffic! And, it seems there are no rules, other than the bigger the vehicle, the more right of way you have, but if you're a cow, you have the ultimate right of way.
* There is absolutely no sense of privacy or personal space. If there is an inch of space in a queue, or on a train seat it will be taken. It's quite common for the owner of an internet cafe to look at your photos and read your emails as you write them.
* We're not sure if Indians think they are being helpful, or just curious, but often the way they speak with us turns into commands - "come, sit, where are you going? what hotel are you staying at? what country are you from? what is your profession? what is your salary?" If you do not answer all these questions, they think you are being rude.
* Indians are still bewildered by freckles - one girl asked me "what happened to your hands?"
* There is a barrage of smells - spices, delicious aromas of food being cooked, incense, mixed with poo and urine.
* There is a barrage of sounds - bus drivers use their horns constantly to communicate with other traffic, the rumbling of buses and Enfield motorcycles mixes with loud Indian music.
* It's quite probable that your rickshaw driver will try to take you to a different hotel than the one you specify to try to collect commission from its owner.
* Queues are not really queues - people come in from all sides, front and back - generally holding out some money will get you service quicker.
* The trucks are painted with signs saying "horn please" and "use dipper at night" (it took me a while to figure out this means low beam).
* Children and beggars seem to see foreigners as walking gift bags - "money, one school pen, one chocolate, one photo, rupees".
* Every second shop seems to be a "STD/ISD/PCO" shop. These mean Subscriber Trunk Dialing, International Subscriber Dialing, and Public Call Office. These are places where people can make phone calls - basically manned phone booths.
* There seems to be a constant battle with dirt - people bath numerous times a day, sweep dirt and rubbish away from their doorsteps, and seem to always be doing their laundry. But the dust is unforgiving, the rubbish piles up, and their laundry is often placed on the dirty steps just outside their home.
* Men pee everywhere. Kids poo everywhere.
* The locals have a wonderful pride about their country and its sights - "have you seen the fort, have you seen the Taj Mahal?"
* India seems to be a living history - people living in ancient forts and havelis, harvesting their crops by hand, using bullock carts as a major form of transport. But at the same time, it's rapidly becoming a software giant.

Location: McLeod Ganj, India

India the Hot - Varanasi to Amritsar

After crossing the border at Sonauli, our first task was to try to not get too ripped off in exchanging our Nepali rupees, and our second was to eat our first genuine Indian lunch (yum). We opted to take a night bus from Sonauli to Varanasi, instead of taking a bus ride to Gorakpur and hoping to catch the train. As we began our scheduled 12-hour journey, we noticed a marked increase in the number of trucks, buses, cows, and people (make that men) on the roads and roadsides. The land was mostly farmland, with wheat crops coming ready for harvest, and the landscape was dotted with ladies in brightly coloured sarees working in the fields. Unfortunately, our bus was a bit fast, and we arrived in Varanasi at 2:00 in the morning. Our welcome to India was quite typical of India in that our rickshaw driver tried to take us to 5 hotels other than the one we had specified, in the hopes of receiving commission from their owners. After yelling at him "you bad man, no rupees for you", he finally took us to the one we had wanted. As luck would have it, there were no rooms available, so another very helpful, friendly man helped us find reasonable accomodation at a reasonable price.

Varanasi is truly a magical place - one of the oldest cities in the world, sitting on the banks of the Ganges River, a pilgrimage site for Hindus, and the holiest place for them to die and be cremated, as it offers the hope of liberation from the cycle of birth and death. Mark Twain said of Varanasi "It is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend and it looks twice as old as all of them put together." We arose at sunrise one morning to take a 2-hour boat ride up and down the ghats, watching the pilgrims and sadhus bathing, praying, and doing their laundry; cows negotiating stairs; kids playing cricket; and the recently deceased being cremated. We wandered the warrens that form the old city, getting lost and then finding our way back towards the river. A walk like this involves watching for cows (and their poo), dogs (and their poo), and people (and occasionally their poo) all along the paths; talking with the kids and shopkeepers; and answering the question "what country?" about a million times. We noticed that there seemed to be very few people along the ghats during the day, especially compared to when we were both here last (4 years ago, but in the months of January and February) - as one local man told us, the summer had arrived one month early, and temperatures soared to around 40 degrees during the day.

From Varanasi, we took a night train to Delhi, where we trimmed down our backpacks as much as possible for the rest of our time in India, leaving a large bag with our hotel, to which we will return at the beginning of May. We did a day trip to Agra, and visited the amazing Taj Mahal. From a distance, the symmetry and lines of it are breathtaking, and up close, the inlaid marble is gorgeous. Completed in 1653, it is a remarkable monument to love, built by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan as a mausoleum for his second wife Mumtaz Mahal who died giving birth to their 14th child.

Another night train put us in Jodhpur, the "blue city" with the magnificent fort, the Mehrangarh, and the place which gave name to the baggy-tight riding trousers. We stayed at a very nice guesthouse here, Shivam Paying Guesthouse, and spent our mornings seeing the sights, and our afternoons napping under the fan in our room, trying to escape the heat which had now risen to 42 degrees. The walls of the majority of the buildings inside the old part of Jodhpur are painted a lovely indigo blue colour. Originally the colour was to indicate the homes of Brahmins, but nowadays anyone can paint their home in blue, as it is thought to keep the heat and the mosquitos at bay. At the fort, we took in the audio tour (which is actually very good), which highlights the history of the fort, the day-to-day life of the former Maharajas, and the role of the current Maharaja. One of the most interesting but tragic sights within the fort is the mural showing small handprints painted in red. These represent the handprints of the Maharaja's many wives who commited the act of sati - immolating themselves on their husband's funeral pyre after he had died in battle.

**Photos for Jaisalmer and Bikaner unfortunately have a little virus and are resting on our USB memory stick. We now have a program that can fix the files, but it is very slow, so we will have to wait for our return to Canada to fix the problem.**

We arrived in Jaisalmer, the "golden city" on April 13th, after a long, hot bus journey from Jodhpur through the Thar desert. As seemed to be our pattern, we rested in the afternoons and saw the fort and the Maharaja's palace early in the morning. Jaisalmer is the only fort in India in which people (about 300 families) actually live inside the walls. Unfortunately, the lack of proper water and sewage systems for these inhabitants and the dozens of hotels also inside the fort have led to quite a bit of decay and crumbling fort bastions. Still, it was great to climb to the top of the palace to take in the 360 degree views of the sandstone buildings within the fort, the city beyond its walls, and the expanse of desert that stretched as far as the eye could see.

We left Jaisalmer on an early morning bus bound for Bikaner. When we arrived in Bikaner we headed straight for the train station and after a bit of a wait, found out the good news that the train tickets that we had been on a waiting list for had been confirmed and we had berths for our journey to Amritsar. We then had time to go to see the infamous Karni Mata Temple (Rat Temple) just south of town. Karni Mata is an incarnation of the Hindu goddess Durga, and the rats are believed to contain the souls of her followers. As at all temples, shoes are left outside, and we tried not to think about the little crusty bits that we walked over on our way into the temple. I didn't last inside as long as Edwin did (I kind of have a phobia about rats), but we watched the rats scampering about and feeding at the bowls of sweets and sweet milk that are left out for them. The temple is home to about 20,000 rats, of which four or five are the very lucky white rats. We should have quite a bit of good luck, as two rats actually scampered over Edwin's feet, and we also saw a white rat at one of the feeding bowls. There were many pilgrims at the temple, praying and making offerings of sweets for the rats, and their solemness made us realize this was a temple, and not the weird spectacle it seemed to us. On the way back to Bikaner, we rode on top of the bus, enjoying the sunset over the desert, and watching kids flying and fighting their kites from the rooftops. We saw boys dashing down the street - kiterunners chasing the cut kites.

We booked a room close to the train station in Bikaner until our departure at 1:45 that morning, and tried to sleep, but it was too hot and the single cot too small. The train departed about one hour late, and it was our most tiring journey yet. So far, the trains have been great, but this one was very overbooked. In our compartment, with 6 bunks, there were 11 people. We had to kick people out of our assigned bunks, which was kind of tough to do at nearly 3:00 in the morning. The journey lasted until 4:30 the following afternoon, and it was very hot and crowded. Then we boarded a second train, which had 10 people in a compartment for 6, for the last 3 hours to Amritsar. Needless to say, we were very tired when we arrived that night.

Fortunately, Amritsar was a bit cooler, and we had a good sleep before waking at 5:30 for sunrise at the Golden Temple. The Temple is the holiest site for Sikh people, and the Temple complex provides inexpensive (free dormitory) accomodation and meals for all who visit. We stayed at a hotel just outside the complex, but partook in a few meals, sitting on the floor with about 400 other pilgrims on this one of two levels, as dozens of volunteers served up chapatis, dal, rice, and a sweet dessert at lunch time. Before entering the complex, we left our shoes in a locker room, donned head coverings which were provided, and washed our feet by walking through a pool with flowing water. The Temple is absolutely beautiful, with the sun's rays shining off the golden dome, surrounded by a pool of water, and marble buildings and walkways. The dome is said to be guilded with 750 kgs of pure gold and represents an inverted lotus flower, which is a symbol of Sikhs' aim to live a pure life. We found The Sikh people are very nice and friendly, and there's very little (if any) hassle. When we told one of the men who wanted to chat that I was from Canada, he said "ah, Little Punjab".

In the afternoon, we took a shared taxi to the India/Pakistan border near Attari. Every night, when they close the border, there is a special 30 minute "closing the border" ceremony. Thousands of people attend the ceremony every day, and the atmosphere is one of a festival, with music and dancing, and people waving the flag of their favoured country. As the ceremony begins, the double set of gates which separate the two countries are flung open, trumpets sound from the guardrooms, soldiers bellow (hopefully longer than their counterpart on the other side), and then the most hilarious marching show begins. Five very tall (very handsome) soldiers from either side do the strangest, fastest march we've ever seen from the guardroom up to the border, staring and scowling at the other side, with puffed up chests and clenched fists. They wheel to face their flags, and after they have returned one by one to the guardhouse, the flags are lowered, very slowly so neither side is higher than the other. All the while, the crowds are singing, cheering and chanting for their side. It was a wonderful spectacle to see (and hear).

During our 2 weeks in the lowlands of India, the heat has really been a factor in how, when and where we travelled. We did what we wanted to do, but much of our time was spent trying to avoid the heat of the afternoons, and we moved from place to place with no real rest days. So what does 42 degrees feel like? Well, we were sweating pretty much full time from about noon to about 6:00. We drank litres and litres of water, trying to rehydrate. The water in our water bottles would feel like we could make tea in them, and our rooms got so warm that the floors and the bed would radiate heat. We would have the fan on constantly, but it would feel like a furnace blowing hot air on us. At night, we took to dousing the floor with water to try to cool the room, I slept in a wet t-shirt (not to excite Edwin), as it helped me keep cool. As this is the beginning of summer, we don't know how the local people cope when the temperatures reach 50 degrees.

We are happy to now be in the cool of McLeod Ganj, in the state of Himachel Pradesh, very near the Himalayas. We will spend the he next two weeks in this state before returning to Delhi and our flight to London.

Location: McLeod Ganj, India

Rhino Spotting in Chitwan National Park

We left Kathmandu on April 2 to head for Chitwan National Park in the hopes of spotting some one-horned rhinos, crocodiles, and perhaps, if we were very lucky - tigers. As we approached the park on the bus, we found it interesting that on many of the signs the word "Royal" (as in Royal Chitwan National Park) had been scratched out or painted over. The King relinquished his power in April 2006, a year after he had dismissed the entire government and seized full executive powers. In speaking with the local people, there seems to be a cautious optimism about the cease fire, the provisional government that is now in place, which includes Maoist Ministers, and the upcoming elections to be held in July(ish). Very few people remain loyal to the King. It has been so unstable for so long in Nepal, we just hope the people here finally have some peace.

As always when we arrive in a new place, we were bombarded by touts as we got off the bus. Edwin managed to choose one fellow to go with, and negotiated a great deal for 2 days of sightseeing around the park. On our first evening, we went to the Elephant Breeding Centre, which breeds elephants in captivity to work in the park, either with the tourists, or to patrol the perimeters of the park, on the lookout for poachers. The baby elephants are cute, but it's kind of sad seeing that most of the elephants are chained to posts and don't have too much room to move. We took in a local cultural performance that night which was great - local drummers and dancers performed traditional stick dances.

Our second day began very early in the morning with a 4-hour jungle walk with our guide Ram. We spotted 2 big crocodiles, a couple of deer, birds and monkeys, but no rhinos on our walk winding through the jungle and grasslands. Later that afternoon, along with two Nepali tourists we boarded the howdah perched on the top of our elephant for our "elephant safari". The mahout (driver) knew exactly where to go, and at one watering hole, we saw a pair of rhinos bathing, and at a second watering hole, there was a family of five.

We left Chitwan the following day, bound for India. Our journey to Varanasi involved 4 buses to get to the border, and one to reach Varanasi. As most tourists were heading north to the cool of Nepal, we knew we were heading for the very hot lowlands of India.

Location: McLeod Ganj, India