Advertisement
Published: January 19th 2010
Dirtiest Urinal in the world
Diu Bus Station
(The smell was worse! ) After a quick escape from the tepid and foreboding heat of the north of India we arrived in the lush green mountains of Nepal to the remote little town of Tansen. It was worlds away from the urban chaos of Varanasi and the cool misty mountain air made it so much easier to breathe. Unfortunately, the weather was again not on our side as it was the wet season here the constant downpour of rain made us not able to see more than the four corners of the hotel room.
We pressed onwards to the tourist mad hotspot of Pokhara for hopefully a glimpse of the mighty Himalayas but all we saw was heavy cloud cover which even made the idea of any trekking unthinkable. On top of this the multitude of overpriced souvenir shops and restaurants made the atmosphere of the place feel completely artificial. But still, the cooler air and peaceful streets made it a lot easier to gain the strength and power necessary to attempt a re-entry into India. Even though we had such a bad time the first few weeks I was perplexed how it could have gone so badly and how could all the
people that have great experiences in India be wrong. Paulina was not as optimistic as I and felt as if an early return trip home was definitely not out of the question. Nevertheless, the hard challenges I had faced during the recent year gave my strength to believe that things may change for the better.
So reluctantly after a couple weeks of summing up enough courage we packed our bags and made the enduring 10hr bus trip back to the border near Gorakphur where again we were met by the relentless heat and humidity and constant sweat that pervaded the air. We stopped by a nearby small restaurant and probably had the best Thali ( A Indian plate meal served with various curries ) we had since coming to India and felt that our luck was changing. After the odd 20 hours travel we had finally made to Agra in the early hours of the morning to be met by a pack of rickshaw hyenas at the terminal requesting absurd amounts for the ride into town. However, on getting into town we were pleasantly surprised to find a decent and cheap hotel right near the old town and even
with a glimpse of the Taj from the roof. For being the greatest tourist attraction of India, the touts around the centre were hardly at all aggressive and we were even given our correct change back from one man after we overpaid him!
However the scorching and blaring heat was still the same as we had left it and although I have already been through all kinds of extreme weather conditions in my years travelling the Indian summer heat was just too much to handle especially coupled with an irrational small intestine. Most of the time it was only really possible to go outside for a few hours at a time and then head back to the hotel under the full strength of the ceiling fan. AC was another more expensive option but the 5+ hour daily power outrages would make no difference. It was damn hot and just lying in the bed with the power out and 45 Celsius outside resulted in a hell of a lot of sweating and not much else.
The Taj itself is a miraculous building, even though many people are divided on the experience you get from visiting this world wonder
I believe its mostly due to over expectation. The gardens surrounding are pleasant and the building itself, completely constructed from marble with intricate and artistic inlays must really be seen to be believed. Even with the exorbitant foreign entrance fee of $16 it was still well worth it.
We decided to make a quick trip down to the town of Fatehpur Sikri, known for its famous fort made by Akbar in the 16th Century and abandoning it fully intact a mere 15 years later due to drought problems. The town itself was quaint and small, with mainly of the locals quite friendly and not attempting to sell or tout or bother us apart from stopping for a quick chat which was a relief. The weather had become worse with temperatures soaring above 45 degrees and our trusty umbrella was shielding us from the blazing heat. The fort itself was interesting to visit as it is so intact it looks as though it was only recently abandoned. The night that followed was terrible as the power in the town decided to go out around 10am and didn't return until 7. This of course meant it was around 50 degrees
in the room and making it impossible to sleep and as I resorted to sleep on the balcony outside the swarming sounds of mosquitoes made it next to impossible to get more than about 25 minutes sleep the whole night. Paulina decided to sleep in the bathroom where the constant streaming of shower water on a wet toilet made it possible to sleep not much longer.
The next stop was Jaipur and it was here where our luck hit a new rock bottom with another case of food poisoning that meant a few days unable to even get out of the bed due to lack of energy and needing to be in the near vicinity of a toilet. The situation was getting quite ridiculous as we could hardly see or do anything and we had already lost around 4kgs since first arriving in India a mere month and a half earlier. Disappointingly, my favourite meal now was the McChicken from McDonalds followed by an ice cold Coke. It was the only thing that strangely enough actually made us feel better. Together with the heat and the incessant touts that plagued Jaipur I was at wits end. At times yelling
and almost getting into fights with the human flies that would not leave you alone until you gave them money or went into their rickshaw. We started to become increasingly displeased with the quality of many of the temples we saw as most of them had questionable artistic qualities, such as cheap looking plaster moulded deities with kitchy fluro paints. Many of the the gods were made out of clay that were so badly constructed that it was difficult to make out what god it actually was. It was intriging to see how different the Indians taste and interests were. Somehow we summoned the energy to move forward to the small town of Pushkar some two hours away by bus. The atmosphere even though touristy was nice with many eclectic clothes and souvenir stalls dotted around the sacred lake ( which at the time was almost empty, at present they are try to digging a deeper hole to find greater sanctity. ) Many pilgrims come to the spot from all around the country to bath in the waters and cleanse all their previous sins. The desert heat of Rajasthan was still in full force and on top of that the
stomach sickness took its worst turn with us mostly not having any energy to get out of the bed. We decided to try some antibiotics in a last ditch attempt to recover from the food poisoning.
The next stop was Mt Abu which was still in the state of Rajasthan but a hill station famous in India as a honeymoon location. The town itself was rather small and had a tacky looking man made lake with various fluro coloured swan boats you could paddle around in. It was good to get a little more fresh air and realised that India is definitely a place you should avoid crowded cities and only head for natural locations as the cities are just too much for the likes of us. Bearing that in mind we left the state of Rajasthan and headed for the small coastal island of Diu in Gujarat. The colony like Goa used to belong to the Portuguese and even though little remains from the former occupiers the area was a lot more relaxing. The beaches were pleasant and the lack of traffic, people and noise made us really start to finally enjoy our time in this country, the
old fort and caves were great distraction for another challenge that was yet to come.
A flight back to South India and Mysore was next on the cards as I was to start a 2 month Yoga Teacher Training course similar to Astanga known as
Pranavashya. It was designed by the Yogi Vinay Kumar who has been doing yoga since the age of seven. I met up with my friend John whom had already completed the first month and got me worried due to the immense schedule that I was to endure. 5 hour intense days, 6 days a week for the whole 2 months. The first few weeks were the worst, the practise so intense I was covered in sweat at the end of each day and left with little energy to do much else. Even though we were thankfully cooking all our own food now, my bowels were not completely back to normal which made it more difficult . We resorted to going to a hospital where I took a urine and stool test and found out the most shocking information that the highly intelligent doctors told me that.... my shit was brown! Taken aback by such
Nandi Statue
Chamundi Hill,Mysore profound and insightful information I decided to take one more course of antibiotics which thankfully cleared the problem within a week. Paulina found a ayurvedic massage course to occupy her time whilst I continued diligently in the course. The strength based structure and the teaching methods of Vinay made it very rewarding but also very tough. By the 4th week I was almost in pieces, lacking in energy or power to continue. I realised that if I could make it this far I could manage to finish the course and I summoned all the power I had to be able to continue. The next month each practise started at 5:30 which made it more difficult yet the practise was slightly easier as it was more about teaching than doing so much practise. By the last week I was feeling the full power of what I had accomplished and Vinay was very happy with my progress and I was almost in disbelief that I managed to complete it.
Happy to leave Mysore, we went a short stint slightly south of Mysore in the small town of Somnathpur. Here was Keshava temple that contained thousands of intricate carvings and literally
Hindi Priest
Chamundi Hill,Mysore blew me away. This was the quality of temple architecture I had seen in Bali and was in a completly opposite style compared to the modern ones. This temple about 800 years old was an amazing site and resurrected my faith in at least some of this classic Architecture.
We decided to spend our final weeks in India lying on the pleasant beaches of beautiful Goa. Goa was much better than expected, we spent half our time near Palolem, enjoying the great views and beaches on offer. The food in every restaurant was exquisite and I felt as if I was in an entirely different country. After a week we headed further to the north to Arambol, a less developed location with more hippies and Russian tourists yet maintained a fine ambience amongst the rustic little Indian shacks and restaurants that lined the beach front. The rest of the time spent was mostly in the tepid waters swimming and actually starting to feel will miss this place. Although much of my time in India was spent being sick, harassed, heat exhausted and altogether quite fed up alot of this was due to bad luck and timing. I was
glad that I could have some fond memories as Goa was truly heaven compared to the rest of my trip in India.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.053s; Tpl: 0.014s; cc: 10; qc: 23; dbt: 0.0253s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Josevich
Josevich
LOL!
i sometimes miss the urinal when i aim but how can anyone miss the urinal like that! OMG! how do they pee? maybe they try to write their name with their urine. haha! love it! i cant imagine what the toilet bowl looked like! do upload a picture if you have one