Is that a money belt in your pants or are you just excited to go to Nepal?

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After a brief travel hiatus - well, not exactly since I was in Puerto Rico for a few days; I guess it was more of a hiatus from world travel - I departed on my fourth big trip. This one is to Nepal and India. I had arranged for transportation from my parents’ house and was picked up by Gene from Andrews’ transportation service. From the moment I got in the car to the one when I got out an hour and twenty minutes later, Gene and I talked. He had just come back from a trip from Southeast Asia a few weeks ago, one he did with some friends from around the world and some of his brothers. He had been in and outside of Bangkok, as well as Cambodia and other parts of Thailand. I couldn’t remember my exact dates but it seems we were either in the same places simultaneously or missed each other by a matter of days.

Gene is a 50 year old black guy. Interestingly, he and most (perhaps all) of his travel party are black, which gave rise to the Southeast Asian locals referring to all the black men in his party as “Obama”. He had worked for years in the corporate world and, after a failed marriage, decided to start using his savings to pursue his travel ambitions and does so frequently, with his driving job serving as a paycheck to pay the bills while he’s home.

After what was clearly the most enjoyable chauffeured car ride of my life, I got out and headed to check in. At the counter, I realized I was missing my cell phone. It had to either have been left on my bed or fell out in the car, as my pants pockets are really slick. Either way, I didn’t have it and don’t need it outside the United States.

When checking in, one of the reps came up to me as if there was a problem. She said the flight is on schedule but the flight I was scheduled take to Newark gets delayed a lot. With rain in the area, it might be a good idea to catch a train to Newark airport, for which Continental would pay. Sold. I made my way to the SEPTA train to 30th Street station to the Amtrak train to the monorail to Newark airport without a hitch. As I waited for the Amtrak train, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was one of those twists of fate that would either allow me to escape disaster on the flight to Newark or lead to my demise if fate would have otherwise spared me by my making the flight to India. On the latter, we shall see.

I had checked in with my parents (actually Skuter, who was at home) on my cell phone and it was in fact in the car. Gene had since dropped it off so that problem is solved.

In Newark, I checked my bag, which is much lighter than I’ve carried the past few trips. In Europe, Oceania and Asia, other backpackers were in awe of the size of my pack. This time, the airline personnel were surprised I was checking my bag at all (stupid liquids).

My main bag is a daypack, its contents consisting mostly of toiletries and medications, along with protein bars for my trek, some of Dave’s gear, gym shorts, sandals and some underwear. No spare clothes at all - these will be bought in Kathmandu.

In my front pack, which I would carry on, I store all my valuables. I typically guard that pack in ways that would impress the guy who carries the nuclear football, but given the wad of cash that would cover the bulk of both mine and Dave’s Nepal trip, I opted for heightened security. I stored my cash in my money belt, which I wear strapped around my waste and concealed underneath my pants. It was enough to thicken the belt to extremes, so much so that with the bills spread out I had a tough time closing it, much like George Costanza’s wallet. My sister had the brilliant idea to separate the bills and fold them in half to avoid the thick fold. This worked well, though I still had a large bulge inside the crotch of my pants that likely gave rise to some stares.

My flight to India was lengthy (about 14 hours) but went quick. We flew eastward over the Atlantic, Northern Europe, Western Russia, the Stans and finally into India where I landed in Delhi. Looking at the map on the TV screens I realized that after my trek I will have covered about 94%!o(MISSING)f the Earth’s longitude, with just a small section between Nepal and Thailand thwarting my bid for the whole thing.

Besides sleeping, I spent my time reading Kurt Vonnegut‘s Slaughterhouse-Five and watching movies. The entertainment system on my plane was incredible - we had a selection of 335 movies from which to choose, along with numerous TV series, a vast music library and many games. I watched a couple movies I hadn‘t seen before, including A Beautiful Mind and The Men Who Stare at Goats. The aircraft also had two power outlets for every three seats in coach, another novelty.

We had dinner just after we reached our cruising altitude. Following that meal, the flight attendants came around with a snack pack, which included some food we could eat at our leisure and a bottle of water. This was great - I wouldn’t have to request more water a dozen times this flight. And they wouldn’t be roaming through the aisles with another round of food service while people are trying to sleep. Continental appears to be the standard against which all other American airlines should be measured.

At the airport in Delhi, I made it through immigrations, baggage and customs without a hitch. I had a hostel booked tonight - trying to get some half decent sleep - and a worker from the hostel was supposed to pick me up. I followed the instructions the hostel sent me but he wasn’t there. After some waiting and a phone call, he arrived to take me for my one night stay.

I got loaded up in a van that appeared to have shrunk in the wash and we set out for the crazy journey into town. While I plan to save most of my India commentary for when I return in a few weeks, a few things initially caught my eye.

Maybe I went soft over the last couple weeks but it seems like the drivers here are crazy. While it reminds me a lot of southeast Asia with the motorbikes, to complicate things here there is an array of larger vehicles, including normal cars, other small vans, motorized rickshaws loaded with passengers, motorcycles and motorbikes, along with pedestrians and cyclists on the road side. I thought we had bought it a few times.

The area is also very dusty. At first I thought this might be due to construction but as I saw more and more, it appears that much of the town is falling apart. Concrete walls are caving in, rock piles are everywhere, the roads appear to once have been made of concrete but now they seem to be more like a packed dirt than anything else. It will be interesting to see things in daylight.

At the hostel I met the girl at the front desk with whom I had spoken a couple times before about airport transfer. She had sounded American and indeed was, hailing from Cleveland, Ohio. She has worked here over the winter and will return to eastern Montana near Yellowstone in a few weeks where she runs a hostel of her own.

I got checked in, cleaned up briefly and headed off to bed. Tomorrow I head back to the airport and go to Nepal.

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Photos

Heading out
Off to get my ride.

Posing
Posing with my ride.

Bye
My parents watch me leave.