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Published: July 10th 2007
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Baba City, Baba Chic
Baba Hippies do the Carnie Dance before the Sacred lake of Brahma in Pushkar I am absolutely knackerd, road-weary and worn out. So please forgive my tone its lack of vitality... Be sure it is no reflection on the wild and fantastic ride that India has taken us on...
After over nine months apart, my Cherie and I were finally reunited. It so happened that any anxiaties i had were dispelled after several frantic hours rushing around the subburbs of Bombay trying to find the lost little thing after a failed rendez-vous at bombay's hectic airport.
I had rented a chic hotel, blowing my budget to smitherines for a few special nights. I must impress upon you that the temperatures in just-pre-monsoon Bombay where swealtering and that the humidity in the air was off the charts. A bit of help with adjustment was most welcome.
Pauline had brought me out a beautiful bottle of Sauternes and her Papa had even shoved some saucisson into her bag. Upon the rooftop terrace of our hotel the sun burned in the monsoon sky with the two of us finally enjoying the world together.
The following day we were in Rajisthan...
After Rajisthan we visited Amritsar and the Golden Temple - Mad Props.
Ridin Dirty
On top of a bus heading to Dharamasala. We frequently had to duck in order to avoid over-hanging elecric cables! The indians were very confused as to why we wanted to ride on the roof when there was space available inside the bus. We also managed to check out the border-closing ceremony with Pakistan. The day was tinged a bit though as Po Po and are were having a bit of an embrouille. I was being a bit a prat expecting Pauline to eat spicy indian food that was blowing her head off. We made up again later on the roof of a bus in the middle of a starry night. Arrrrr....
From Amritsar we eventually arrived in Dharamsala/Mcloed Ganj; seat of the Tibetan Government in Exile.
We landed a luck place to stay, a little 4 roomed appartment with a splendid view down the valey for 5 pounds a night between 4. Roomates however, not so splendid, as i was rudley awakened many a morning by the sounds of jona unloading himself into the toilet, with much ferocity i my add. He had a tummy upset.
In Mcloed Ganj we engaged quite a lot with the issues that we had learned about during our previous time in Tibet, this time in open discussions and with more information freely available. Te whole place had quite a strong impact on us. Mcloed Ganj is very busy, touristy, noisy and dirty. The
Money! It's a Gas
Yes that is Saddam Hussein. And at the bottom we have Monsieur Kadaffi. (Is that how you spell kadaffi?) central temple is, in comparison to counterparts we had seen in Tibet, awful. I found somethings saddening and distressing.
We left Mcloed Ganj in a bit of a daze. I don'tthink anyone really knew where we were going or what we wanted to do! We were on a bus headed up into the hills. A horrible horrible unconfortable overcrowded bus. It was 5pm and the sunset outside was fabulous. The clouds had cleared and the valleys were gleaming. And we were stuck in the horrible bus and would be so for anouther 15 hours. All night! Horrible conducter man wouldn't let me go on the roof. And it was bloody hot. I panicked and made jona panic. "Jona i can't hack this". Then jona saw a train. All through this trip we've wanted to jump on to the back of a moving cargo train without a clue where it is heading. "Why don't we do it now?", "Alec, do you want to get off?!" "Yes!!!!" And so we jumped off the bus with our bags and landed in the middle of nowhere. I had quite the rush of adrenaline needed to perk me up.
The middle of nowhere
On the Banks of the Ganga
In Haridwar. a sunset ceremony takes place everyday culminating in candles being sent off into the rapids. Po Po unfortuanetly didn't see much of the ceremony as she was overloaded with requests for photographs with Indians. is never really, the middle of nowhere in India as I swear there are people everywhere in this country. This so, it wasn't long before we found something. Or rather someone.
This someone was Arvind, who accosted us in the street and invited us into his shop. He sold light bulbs. And crockery. After making sure we were not Muslim he warmly invited us into his home where, for the next few days we became regular members of the household!
Arvind was an avid collector of coins and bank notes froma all over the world. He gladly showed us some of his collection which was, genuinely, facinating! He was a middle-class Indian who discursed with us on a range of topics. One of the most interesting and memorable being his explanations of his hatred for Mahatma Gandhi.
How random those few days were. A lovely example of how a leap into the lap of the Gods almost infrequently results in a smile somewhere and somehow.
Our next stop was the Colonnial hill station of Shimla. English and quaint. With monkeys. Ever since that incident getting chased by monkeys in Indonesia i have been mama scared of
The Mighty Taj Mahal
With a little Samwise monkeys.
From Shimla we parted ways, jona; to delhi and home, Alec; to the himalaya and Po Po and I to the ganges.
Half way through our ride out of Shimla on the toy-train a group of untouchables invaded our train carriage. Aside from us two, all the other passengers seemed to be middle-class Indian tourists. These tourists all immediately covered their mouths and noses and scowled at the untouchables if they intruded at all upon their personal space. In the carriage were benches, the middle class Indian staying two to a bench. Pauline and I had naturally shuffled up as the new arrivals came on board so we ended up as five to a bench not to mention two puppy dogs. Then all over the floor sat the women with babies. Elsewhere if you are on a bus in india and a woman get on and ther is no seat available, you are expected to give up your place. Not here it seemd.
this day turned out to be the hardest days travel of my whole trip. Culminating four trains and fifteen hours later with the final trial. At five to midnightwe crawled onto the transfer.
The Beautiful Taj Mahal
"A teardrop of Beauty on the Cheek of Mankind" Quite so. Without a doubt the most beautiful building I have ever seen. A wooden seated carriage, fairly empty, quiet, heavy atmosphere and all men. Nobody smiled or spoke to us which is very very odd for India, even after efforts from myself to engage. I felt very uncomfortabe as did Pauline with so many sneaky eyes fixed on her. A young group of men then came running up and being over-friendly towards us. All of a sudden a soldier mounted the train with a bloody big rifle and they ran off at a scuttle. The soldiers questioned me, inquiring after the men who had approached us. One then took me to one side and said;"This man is a criminal, he is very dangerous. Don't eat or drink anything, don't fall asleep and certainly don't loose sight of your belongings. be careful." And with that the train left the station! Great! That's just great! I think that is the first time on the trip that i have been genuinely scared. Five horrible hours later we lept off the train; no problems. Leaving the station we woke several sleepy hotel assistants in our quest to find a bed. i lost my rag with a receptionist for various reasons, mainly to do with excessive, inutile
Po Po in the Winds
Looking out over the Deserts and frustrating paper work that India seems to love. We flew off into the night only to get frightened once again, this time by a fat pig. Literally, as in the animal.
Thinking about the train, had I been with the lads i probably wouldn't have batted an eye lid. Travelling with agirl has definitely added new dimentions to life on the road. Mainly I have to say, opening up a new engagement with women and in particular girls which I didn't even realise wasn't hapening before.
On the banks of the Ganges, both in Rishikesh and Haridwar, and in the sacred city of Pushkar Pauline engaged to some extent with Hinduism. I have to say that my impressions and experiences of such have not been too pleasant. Firstly, money money money. No doubt due to our foreign tourist status but I have genuinely been confused as to wheather I have left the temple and entered the market and vice-versa. Often in India one does feel like a great big dollar bill with legs bobbing about.Some of the temples we have visited felt more like theme parks than spiritual spaces.
last night after having reunited with Alec
Po Po
Getting into the flavour flav we lay out and all breathed a deep sigh... Alec and I bot agreed that state in which we are returning home is somewhat different to what we may have dreamed in months gone by. For the simple fact; we are exhausted.
India is a most amazig, incredible mind bending place, just as everyone says. And just as everyone says, it is crazy, frustrating and exhausting.
I am happy to take a break and head home but boy how i shall miss some of the moments I have the feeling only India could possibly cunjured for us all in the last month.
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J-Man the J-Claw
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Homeward bound
Tonight I'll sing my songs again, I'll play the game and pretend. But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me. Homeward bound, I wish I was,