Our bus picked us up early Thursday morning for Siem Reap, and we gave up most of the day to travel and being lazy. The next morning we started with the Angkor Wat complex, and visited the temples in the “small circuit”. It’s mid-November, so it’s supposed to be the cooler season – but it was roasting! You have to dress modestly for the temples (short sleeves and knee lengths bottoms. Same with most of Cambodia outside of the major tourist areas). We were drenched in sweat walking around and climbing the steep, shallow-stepped staircases in the temples. The sun was so strong by mid-day it bleached out most of my pictures. I can only imagine what the hot season is like!!

The temples really were incredible, but after a while they start to blend together. There are people at every temple entrance trying to sell things. Women shouting “Water lady?” “Hat?” There are kids as well, and they are impossible to dodge. They run out with postcards and bracelets, counting them out “one, two, three….”, or listing the locations on the postcards as they follow you around.

In hindsight I wish we had gotten a tour guide. You can appreciate how much effort must have gone into building these – but I think we missed a lot about what the carvings meant, how the temples were used, and why they were abandoned. You can research all that on your own – but really, who has the patience? The ones that stuck out to me – Angkor Wat of course. Too bad there was a giant scaffolding over a big portion of the entrance.

Ta Prohm – ancient trees that had grown into the temples over time. I can’t imagine it’s possible to separate the two without damaging the structures.

Bayon – faces carved into every side of the towers on the top level.

The next day we took a break from temples, and walked around Siem Reap. We went for massages at Lemon Grass, which were pretty stellar (although my heart still belongs to Lakshmi in Varkala). We discovered the small cafe chain The Blue Pumpkin – tasty snacks, ice cream, and AC. Did a little shopping, but no buying. Walked Pub Street. As the sun sets all the street kids start to come out and beg. You know you should never give money to street kids anywhere, but here they make make it even more difficult to say no. A young girl will walk up carrying a baby, looking desperate, and saying “I don’t want money. Milk for baby.” They are AGGRESSIVE, and act appalled that you could be so heartless if you say no. Then they return the milk to the local store for cash. I had been warned – but it didn’t make it any easier.

Sunday – back at the temples. Everything really was a blur at this point. The only one I can remember the name of was Preah Khan.

We went to dinner just off Pub Street that night, and discovered the alleyways on either side of it. They were full of cool shops and restaurants – much nicer than on the main streets. We tried to find some night life, without much luck. X bar looked promising (had a tattoo parlor inside and a half pipe on the roof), but there weren’t enough people for it to really get going.

The following day we did some more shopping. I stopped for a fish pedicure. It was very weird. Kind of like torture, but also funny.

Tuesday Sarah left for her flight back to Thailand, and I was picked up for my Moto tour. How could I forget to mention the motos?!?!?! They fall somewhere in between a bicycle and a dirtbike, and are the mode of transportation for the average Cambodian. They’ll pile a family of 4 or more onto one. I found a place that does moto tours out of Siem Reap, which sounded great to me. I was eyeing a 3 day trip with a guide into the North, but since I’d never driven one before I thought I should try it out with a half day tour first. My guide Mr Ny picked me up at the hostel, and drove me out of the city to my own personal moto. After a quick lesson on how to start, and what the different gears were – we were off. It was super easy to ride, and so much fun to get into the country a little more. We drove on dirt roads by rice fields, and little houses on stilts. You don’t have to get too far out of the cities for things to change completely. In Phnom Penh and Siem Reap things are pretty modern with ATMs, restaurants, massage parlors, and shops everywhere. When you get out in the country it’s nothing but fields, and small houses built up on stilts. And gas stops. We kept driving by these stands with bottles filled with liquid. I thought it was the rice wine I had read about, but there were so many of them I figured either the country was full of alcoholics, or I must be wrong. It was gas.

That day while driving my moto I got the thumbs up from a teenage boy. I felt very cool. Settled! I would leave the next day for a 3 day trip north east to Preah Vihear!

I forgot to mention…. as we walked back to our tuk-tuk driver, shell shocked from visiting The Killing Fields, we got a scolding. We had agreed to meet at 12:30, but time got away from us, and by the time we got back to him it was 1:45. He was piiiiisssssed. I did understand his annoyance to an extent, but we had hired him for half a day – so why did he care where we chose to spend it? We agreed to pay extra if we ran over our time, and that seemed to appease him. Ten minutes later he was all smiles and jokey again. Sarah and I were still feeling awkward. What the…? I thought Cambodians didn’t like showing anger?

After S-21 we felt the need to lighten it up a bit, and went took a tuk-tuk to the riverfront for dinner. We walked up and down the street checking out all the restaurants, and had many meaningful interactions with locals. From one guy “Hey, want sommmmme-thing……”? If we had any doubts about what he meant, another friendly man made it very clear, and just said “Weed?” Finally we settled on a place on the roof of a building. The food was very good, view was great, and price was right.

After dinner we wandered around some more, and came across this snack stand on the side of the road. Look closely – there’s fried tarantula top right, snake on a stick second from bottom left, large meal-worm looking things center row second from the left.

We stopped by the Foreign Correspondents Club to have a drink on the roof. To be honest – I don’t see what all the fuss is about. It’s nice, but not that special.

The next morning I woke up bright and early. Election day!! I deposited myself in front of the big screen TV on the roof at 8 am, and didn’t move until after Obama’s acceptance speech. By that time it was early afternoon in Phnom Penh, and I hadn’t left my hostel. Sorry Sarah!!

We did a some online research, and jumped in a tuk-tuk bound for the old market. We had read about a couple of other markets good for shopping, but we were more interested in people watching. The old market sounded less touristy, and it definitely was. It is basically a large dimly lit maze of stalls covered by tarps and metal sheeting. There were fruit stands at the entrance, and inside almost everything you can imagine, but nothing you would want to buy. There was gold jewelry, synthetic weaves displayed in front of hair salons, fancy fabrics, hardware stores, extremely padded underwear and bras, candy colored plastic shoes, restaurants, clothes, and school supplies.

There is a large open air section outside for food. I was dying to try something but didn’t know where to start!! There were all kinds of fresh veggies, and every kind of meat and seafood (with quite a bit the borders of either classification). I was mesmerized by bucket of live snakes sitting alongside some ducks and jerky.

From there we went to explore the shops on 178th street, and stopped at the cafe above the Daughter’s of Cambodia store for a snack. In Phnom Penh and Siem Reap there are several options to spend your money with a conscience (and at a premium). There are massage parlors staffed by the blind, beauty salons that are vocational training places for at risk women, shops selling products made by land-mine victims etc. Daughter’s of Cambodia’s mission is to offer an alternative to women and men working in the sex industry – offering training, employment, and medical and psychological care. They employ people making products and staffing their shop, cafe, and spa. The food and products tend to be nicer in these types of places, and with all the exploitation that goes on around here, I am happy to spend a little more at these places.

We had some time to kill before a show that evening, so we went for a walk by the Royal Palace around the corner. The palace had been closed to tourists since King Sihanouk’s death in October, but people have been gathering outside daily to pay their respects. The perimeter of the building was draped in lights, and there was a giant portrait of the King over the entrance. Monks mixed with people lighting candles and praying, and street vendors hovered nearby selling flowers, incense, and souvenirs.

We spent a half hour or so wandering, and then went back to see our show. It was presented through Cambodian Living Arts – an organization that is working to revive traditional Cambodian art forms. Most of the masters of these arts were killed by the Khmer Rouge, and their knowledge was lost with them (along with a chunk of Cambodian culture). The CLA was originally started to engage some of the surviving masters to train a new generation of performers, and enable both to earn a living. Now 14 years in, their mission has shifted to spreading awareness of these arts to the local and international community, and “facilitate a cultural renaissance” in Cambodia.

The show we were seeing was called The Passage of Life. It presented scenes of major life events within a family (birth, marriage, illness, death), and the traditional rituals and music that are performed at those events. It was a great introduction to Cambodian culture and Buddhism – the focus on family, custom, respect, and superstition. In addition to music and songs, the scenes involved prayer to dead ancestors, offerings of food, and a traditional “magic” doctor who spit. I couldn’t help but wonder how much of that reflected tradition vs. how much the average Cambodian still practices today?

After 3 days in Phnom Penh I felt ready to leave. There was more to do: the Silver Pagoda, a river cruise, National Museum of Cambodia, more markets etc – but I was saving my sight seeing energy for Angkor Wat.

I landed in Phnom Penh after an overnight flight exhausted. I keep doing these overnight flights because they’re cheap – but they’re miserable!! I took a tuk-tuk to the hostel I booked, and was surprised by how clean and westernized the city was. (Maybe it was because I was coming from India?) I stayed awake as long as I could, got pampered at a fancy salon next door, and then admitted defeat and took a nap. The hostel was very upscale as far as hostels go, and I had a “superior” private room that looked like it had been renovated recently with AC for $25. Not much converting currency here – they use US dollars for everything over $1. Any change under a dollar they give you Cambodian Riel, so you end up walking around with a jumble of Riel and US dollars at all times.

After my nap I went downstairs for dinner and while I was eating started talking to the girl next to me – Sarah. She had just arrived as well. She had been living and teaching in Thailand for 6 months, and needed to make a visa run out of the country so she headed to Cambodia for a week. We decided to meet for breakfast, and do some sight seeing.

Over breakfast the next day Sarah mentioned she just booked a private room for the next couple of nights since the dorms were fully booked. Fascinating – I also have a private room…. We agreed to share my room, and split the cost. AC accommodation down to $12.50 a night! More conversation – we were both headed to Siem Reap next, and the hostel just happened to have another location in Siem Reap. We booked bus tickets, and reserved a room to share in Siem Reap as well. While I was at it I left my passport with the hostel to send off for my Vietnam visa. Productive morning!

With that all sorted out, we got in a tuk-tuk to go visit the Choeung Ek Genocidal Center – one of over 300 killing fields of the Khmer Rouge. I had read about what had happened in Cambodia under the Khmer Rouge before coming, and knew it would be a heavy day, but felt it was almost a responsibility as a visitor to Cambodia. I won’t launch into a history lesson (there are much better resources for that) – but I will share some of what the tour was like. We were given a map and audio guide to listen to as we walked around the area, and were told in graphic detail about what took place at this site. There is a tall memorial building that you walk by as you enter and leave with the bones of the people executed here – sorted by type with different levels for skulls, and other large bones. An impactful introduction to the tour, and poignant last stop as you leave.

From the audio guide we heard about what would happen to people as they were brought in by the truck load. How they arrived almost starved and half dead already. How they were unloaded from the trucks, processed, and lined up in front of ditches to be executed, with Khmer Rouge propaganda blasting on loud speakers so people in the surrounding areas couldn’t hear what was going on. How they would poured DDT on the corpses in the open ditches to masque the smell. How there are mass graves that have been left undisturbed, and after rains new pieces of bones and bits of clothing continue to surface above ground. They are collected periodically, and left by a glass box that holds the clothing of victims previously found there.

There was one mass grave full of women and children. The Khmer Rouge policy was to kill the entire family of a “criminal”, so no relatives would be left to seek revenge. Next to this grave there was a tree with a bunch of bracelets visitors had left hanging off it. The audio guide explained that guards would swing the children by their ankles and smash their heads against the tree to kill them. A Khmer Rouge slogan – “Better to kill an innocent by mistake than to spare an enemy by mistake”.

There were first person accounts of people who had been there, and at it’s partner S-21 – a detention/interrogation/torture center. The one that sticks out most to me was from a guy who had been been arrested and imprisoned as a very young teen. He told how while in prison criminals were forced to confess to wrong doing daily, and if they didn’t have anything real to confess to they had to make something up, or be killed. One night the boy couldn’t come up with any crimes to confess to. A fellow prisoner intervened, questioning the guards as to why the boy was there, saying that he was too young and had no idea what was going on. Another KR slogan “He who protests is an enemy. He who opposes is a corpse”. The fellow prisoner who intervened was executed, and surprisingly the boy was actually released. The narrator went on to say that he didn’t understand until he was much older why he was released, and that the man had stepped in knowing it would mean his own death. He went on to shamefully admit that he couldn’t remember the man’s name.

I couldn’t imagine living through that, and carrying the weight of it around with me for the rest of my life. For some reason while I listened to that particular story, I began to understand that the country is full of individual stories just like that – a mess of personal loss, torture, shame and horror. 25+% of the population was either killed, or died of disease, overwork and starvation. Everyone over the age of 38 (not much older than me) is old enough to have some memory of it, and everyone under the age of 38 lives in the shadow of it. The educated people were killed – doctors, scientists, monks, teachers, artists. No religion, no studies, no culture were tolerated. Foreigners? Killed. People turned against each other to survive, and children became executioners. By their own policy/precedent the Angkar should have killed themselves – they were college educated, and several had foreign ancestors. I walked around expressionless and numb, with tears streaming down my face.

From there we went to S-21. I think by now you get the picture, so I won’t go on.

I’m having a hard time following this up with stories about light hearted exploring, so I will close this post here.

I arrived at the government bus station in Kottayam a couple of hours before the bus to Munnar was scheduled to leave. Fortunate, because I was starved! I got a Chai, and some Indian junk food (I don’t know what it was exactly, but it was fried). That out of the way, I started asking around to find out how to tell which was the bus to Munnar, since half the buses were signed in
Malayalam (I think). Unlike Rajasthan where the official language is Hindi, in Kerala it’s Malayalam. This was the first time since I’d been in Kerala that I couldn’t navigate signs in English. It made me look forward to Munnar!

After a while a guy who worked for the bus company came over, and escorted me to the right bus. I tried for a window seat, but all the empty seats had bags sitting on top of them. Apparently an unattended bag left on the seat is code for “this seat is taken”. Unlike New York where it would be cause for you to notify the authorities of possible terrorist activity….. So I settled into a seat one over from the window for the 4 1/2 hour bus ride inland.

Munnar is close to the border of Tamil Nadu (the neighboring state), and Kerala. It is known for tea plantations, and surreal mountainous scenery. It sounded like a nice balance to the more touristy areas in Varkala and Alleppey, so I decided to add it to the itinerary. Plus it was supposed to be about 10 degrees celsius cooler!

By the time I arrived it was dark, so it was hard to get a feel for the area. I had booked a guest house a little ways out of town, and arranged for the bus to drop me off on the side of the road in front of a neighboring resort. And by “arranged” I mean, I just kept saying the name of the resort over and over again to the bus guy until he dropped me off. After about 5 minutes in the dark, on the side of the road, I wondered if that was the right decision. Just as I was starting to worry, the guy from the guest house came to pick me up in a rickshaw, and drove the pot-holed dirt road back to the guest house. I checked in, and settled into my room. I had chosen this place because it was inexpensive and the setting was supposed to be gorgeous, but judging by the room itself things were not looking good. It’s chilly here, and there is so much moisture in the air that everything felt slightly damp. The room was clean, and smelled of disinfectant, but you couldn’t get away from the mildew. It was coming through the paint on the walls in places, and was in the pillows. The Lonely Planet really didn’t do right by me with this recommendation.

I listened to it rain all night, and it sounded like it wasn’t going to let up. The only thing to do around here is hike, and in the rain that was out. As I fell asleep I made my plan for the next day – new accommodation, and find a driver to take me sight seeing. But then I walked out the next morning to check on breakfast, and looked onto this.

Whoah. I knew the area would be scenic, but didn’t anticipate this. I was excited to go out and explore. Maybe I would stay a second night after all…..

My driver for the day picked me up, and we drove through the hills and mountains. The tea plantations were absolutely everywhere, and were incredible to see. Lush, lush green, with lines like cracks running through the plants.

Ladies were out there in the rain, wearing plastic, and cutting the tea leaves with clippers that had containers attached to catch the leaves. When the containers were full they would dump them into bags, and when the bags were full they would carry them on their heads to where they needed to be dropped off.

We headed toward Top Station which is a view point over looking the Western Ghat mountains. It was so foggy at times you could barely see right in front of you on the road.

Along the way we got lucky and spotted a wild elephant.

This one haunted me – a tree covered in bees nests and mist.

In the early evening I went to Kathakali performance (Keralan dance/drama). It has nothing to do with Indian dance as I know it. All of the actors were men, and they wear elaborate costumes and make-up. The actors don’t speak (aside from a shriek every now and then), and communicate only through facial movements (eyes, nose, chin, nostrils), hand gestures and dance. There was a guy singing, and some very “unusually” pitched instruments. The rhythm and melody is totally unlike western music. The performance I saw was modified for people with short attention spans, and finished in about an hour. Traditional Kathakali performances are supposed to start in the evening, and last until morning!

The next day I took the bus to Fort Cochin, and walked around looking for a room. Every rickshaw driver and his brother offered to “help” (compensated with a commission from the guest house). One even turned around down the street and came back to ask again – just in case I’d changed my mind. After stopping at about 6 guest houses I settled on one. The price for the quality of the room was great! AC and WIFI. I couldn’t believe my luck!! After I checked in I looked online, and couldn’t find any sign of my guest house. The website on their card didn’t exist, there was nothing on trip advisor and absolutely no reviews anywhere. Strange. The two young guys running it were some of the most respectful I had met in India though. I didn’t ask questions….

I spent most of the next couple of days researching for the next part of my trip. I was leaving for Cambodia in 2 days, and would be flying into Phnom Penh, but had no hotel booked, and no idea where or when I would go from there. After hours and hours online, I came up with a rough itinerary.

My last day in India I finally explored Fort Cochin. There really isn’t a lot to see there, so one day was plenty of time. I walked down to the dock, and watched some of the boats throw out and pull in their fishing nets. They sell seafood just in front of the boats where you can take your pick, and then send it off to a nearby restaurant to be cooked. I didn’t see them catch much in the nets, so I was a little suspicious of where the seafood actually came from. I picked some prawn and squid. As I walked with my catch to the restaurant I asked the guy if they came off the boats. “No, these are caught further out so they came off other big boats”. Mmm hmmm….

I visited “Jew Town” (not much effort put into creative naming there), and walked through the synagogue. You aren’t allowed to take pictures inside, but it was old (built in 1568), small and had several chandeliers crammed in.

I finished my one day of Fort Cochin sight seeing early, and called a rickshaw driver I had met earlier in the day to take me to the airport. He chatted me up the whole way to the airport, and I really came to like him! I heard his whole story – growing up, parents, brothers, love life. He was 25, and was well into marriage-able age. He told me about how his mother kept trying to get him to meet with a marriage mediator to meet good wife material, but he was trying to delay. He didn’t expect to have a “love” marriage, but wasn’t yet ready for an arranged one either. This guy was an open book! He also told me how he saw me walking around on my first day in Fort Cochin – “Do you remember”? No. “I asked you if you needed help finding a room? And then I drove down the street, turned around and came back?” Hahah!! Yes, I remembered!!!

Not long into the ride he asked me if I wanted to drive his rickshaw. No thanks, I’d had enough of India traffic! But he was determined and pulled off into a quiet rode, and had me drive. Okay, so I sat next to him and steered/accelerated, while he had his foot ready on the brake. By far my favorite rickshaw driver in all of India.

It’s funny looking back to my month in India. It took me 3 weeks to get comfortable, and gain confidence in my ability to get around on my own. There are things that drove me crazy, followed by amazing experiences that would make me forget. It’s noisy, colorful, boisterous, dirty, beautiful, crowded, argumentative, and then unexpectedly friendly. There’s obscene wealth sitting next to extreme poverty – and nobody seems to notice. It’s not easy, and I don’t think I could live here. But I’ve ended on a high note, and that’s all I could ask for!

The next 12 days I would be exploring Kerala. Kerala is a state in the South West of India, and is known as the least corrupt, and healthiest state in the country. They are considerably better off than other Indian states with the highest life expectancy (74 years vs. total India at 65), and highest literacy rates (94% vs. total India at 74%).

I landed at the airport at Trivandrum, and took a taxi to where I was staying in the North Beach area of Varkala. The crappy weather must have followed me from Goa, because it was steamy and overcast when I arrived. I checked into my hotel, dropped off my things, and went to explore the area. My hotel room was nice, but over budget. The plan was to splurge the first night, and shop around for a room for the following nights once I got there.

I walked down to the cliff overlooking the beach, and down the main strip that is lined with restaurants, shops, ayurvedic massage, and yoga spots. There are no cars allowed on the path so it is just people, scooters and rickshaws. Everything about this place just felt fresher to me than Goa. The shops were less dingy, the air felt lighter…. it’s hard to put my finger on why. It was clearly geared toward western tourists with everything in English, and the radios playing classic rock and Coldplay. Maybe because there isn’t much in the way of nightlife, it doesn’t have the kind of “sceney” feeling some big beach towns can have. All in all a nice place to sit on the beach, and do nothing for a couple of days!

I spent the afternoon walking around hunting for a room with no luck. I looked at about 10 places, but didn’t love any of the ones in my budget. Eventually I stopped at a store to get water, and happened to overhear a girl with an American accent at the checkout. I started talking to her and we swapped info – where she was from (St. Louis), when she got here (a couple of hours before), how long she was traveling for (over a year). After blocking the entrance to the store for too long while talking, Nicole and I went for a drink, which led to dinner. It felt good to have someone doing a similar trip to relate to – but aside from that she was genuinely cool and interesting. I ended up not finding a room that afternoon, but was relieved to have met another friend after my dry spell!

The next morning I woke up and went for breakfast on the cliff. While I was eating I asked the owner if he could recommend a guest house, and he gave me a couple to check out. Afterwards I went to visit both, and ended up going for the slightly more expensive one with AC. It wasn’t a fancy home base, but it was very clean, and had a little balcony. I may have also been swayed by the welcome gifts on the bed (mints, mosquito cream and scented soap).

There isn’t much to do here but lay on the beach, read, get ayurvedic treatments, and do yoga – so with my room situation settled, that’s basically how I spent the next 4 days. I went for a massage at “Lakshmi’s” based on the recommendation of some lady as she drove off in rickshaw. Lakshmi’s place wasn’t much – a small dark room in a building behind a restaurant. One table, a curtain and a fan. An hour and a half massage for $20. I didn’t have high expectations. To describe it as “life changing” would be a bit dramatic, but it was close! As she worked her way through my muscles I felt like I was melting and purring at the same time. I became a Lakshmi devotee, went back for more in the following days, and recommended her to whoever would listen.

The other thing I wanted to try in Varkala was yoga, so I asked Lakshmi for a recommendation, and she sent me next door to Sunil. I have tried yoga a couple of times before, and have never really gotten into it – but figured I should give it another try while I’m here. I joined that evening’s class on the roof of a building overlooking the ocean. It was just me and one other girl – which was perfect since I’m a total beginner. I followed along clumsily through the positions and breathing. It was peaceful on the roof, with the ocean breeze cooling me down. Sunil finished the class with a final relaxation exercise. He spoke in his melodic accent as we layed there with our eyes closed. “You’re toes are relaxing, you’re toes are completely relaxed”. Then worked his way up the body parts. “You’re ankles are relaxing. You’re ankles are completely relaxed”. This was nice. But then in between he would chant “Ommmmmm”, which made me flash back to the meditation meetings my grandmother would bring me to when I was little. I would sit in a circle with all of the adults, eyes closed “Huuuuu”ing. They believed you could have out of body experiences through meditation. At the age of 7 or 8 this was unbelievably boring, so I would sit in the circle, and peak through slits in my eyelids periodically, while brainstorming on the lies I would tell about the out of body experience I just had. Bringing it back to yoga class – as Sunil “Ommm”ed, I un-relaxed, my brain snapped to attention, and I had an overwhelming urge to peak through my eyelids. I got over it, and by the end I managed to “completely relax” after all. Enough so that I went to another class while I was in Varkala. I don’t think I’m a yoga convert, but I can appreciate it.

The next couple of days I explored the beaches, hung out with Nicole a couple of times, and indulged in my yoga and massage. Everything moved slowly, with almost no schedule. Which is good, because things frequently stop working for a while. Power, wi-fi, water. The best solution seems to be to go away and try again later.

After 5 days in Varkala I was ready to move on, and caught the train to Alleppey.

The main reason to visit Alleppey is to explore the backwaters (a series of canals and lakes that wind through a large stretch of Kerala). There are villages and towns throughout the backwaters, and peoples daily lives revolve around them. Their homes are built on the canals, it’s where they bathe, wash dishes, and fish; they irrigate crops from the waterways, and they often travel from place to place by ferry or canoe. There is a whole industry built around houseboat rentals and tours of the canals. Originally I was hoping to stay in a houseboat for a night, but I ruled it out after reading about how much pollution and damage the industry was causing, and instead booked a homestay in Kuttanad (in the heart of the backwaters).

Getting off the train I met a couple of Western girls – Jenna from Germany, and Natalie from England. They met in an ashram, had spent the last couple of days in Varkala, and were hoping to rent a houseboat for the night out of Alleppey (ideally an eco-friendly one) before going their separate ways. Perfect! I asked if I could join up with them, and cancelled my homestay. A great morning with the train ride, and random meeting that changed my plans all around. My feelings about traveling in India changes by the hour – but I am loving India right now!!

From the train we took a rickshaw to the docks and asked around about houseboats. I watched our bags while the girls checked out our boat options. There wasn’t a “green” houseboat to be found, and the boats were expensive!! Finally they were able to negotiate the cost down on one, but we couldn’t leave until the next day. The rickshaw driver and boat salesmen tried to hustle us into a room, but we ended up going to a place I had gotten as a back up recommendation from my last hotel. Very basic, but for under $5 US each a night it helped offset our houseboat splurge. The whole process of bargaining prices, and avoiding scams is exhausting. (Cranky and annoyed with India right now.)

The next day we left to catch our boat, and stopped on the way for beer. The sale of alcohol in India is strictly controlled, so you can’t buy it in a lot of places. Our rickshaw driver drove up to a building, said “small door”, and pointed to a sketchy looking unmarked open door next to a convenience store. 5 minutes later Jenna walked out with 6 Kingfishers, and we were on our way.

A couple of pics from the drive that brought up things I meant to mention:
– Communist political parties are widely supported throughout Kerala, and they have been electing communist officials government off and on since the 50s. You can see graffiti and communist flags around.

– Kerala has a crazy mix of religions. Hinduism, Christianity, Islam. You’ll walk by a store with Ganesh and Jesus paintings, and then pass a woman wearing a headscarf.

We met our boat hustler at the Finishing Point docks, and boarded our boat. It had mysteriously been switched from the one Natalie was shown the day before, but it was comparable so we let it go. We settled in, pulled out of the docks, and spent the rest of the day eating and lazing through the backwaters. The food was some of the best I’ve had in India – but spicy!! (Loving India again!)

The next morning I was the first up (shocking), and sat for a while on the front of the boat while the other girls slept. The cook was the only other one up, and he quietly straightened up and prepped for our ride back to Alleppey. As I sat there lost in thought, I heard a splash to my left. I looked over. The cook had tossed the bag of garbage we carefully set aside into the river. I heard another splash – an empty water bottle. I felt ashamed knowing that I was contributing to the pollution of the canals. I looked to the right at the houseboat moored next to us as it splurged out dirty water from a pipe. Just a little further to the right – a naked kid swimming, and his mother washing dishes. I’m a guilty, guilty polluter. (India – why can’t you throw the garbage in the garbage can?)

After we got back to the docks, Jenna, Natalie and I took the public ferry for a 2 hour ride to Kottayam. The view of the canals was mostly the same as from the houseboat, but the company and activity on the boat was completely different. Stopping every 15 minutes, people got on and off going from one town to the next, some carrying huge sacks of rice and vegetables, some just sleeping through their commute. Note how subtle we are in trying to get a picture of the back of the boat….

From Kottayam we said our goodbyes, and I took a rickshaw to the bus station. I was headed to Munnar in the mountains…..

I flew to Goa Saturday, and took a taxi for the hour drive to Palolem beach where I was staying. It was late in the day, but judging by the dirty and crowded areas we drove through I was glad I had chosen an area a little further away from the craziness. By the time I got to Palolem it was dark, so I checked into my guest house and visited with the owner for a little while before calling it a night. I woke up early the next morning and walked down to the beach in search of breakfast. It was hot, humid and grey as I walked the two main streets full of slightly grungy touristy shops and restaurants down to the beach. The beach was a pretty long sandy stretch, and there were small restaurants and hotels down most of it. It was the start of the season, so they were still in the process of building the guest huts that would stay through the peak months of November-April. I settled in at the nicest looking restaurant on the beach, and relaxed for a while. I was hoping to meet people to hang out and get travel advice from, so I tried my best to “look available” without “looking available” in the wrong kind of way. There were plenty of other tourists around, but as far as friend candidates go the pickings were slim. It seemed as though most of the people were either couples, families, or groups of Indian guys. Feeling underwhelmed and a little discouraged, I walked the beach a bit a little more. Just like everywhere else in India, the cows went wherever they wanted. Do you know what’s not nice about cows on the beach? Cow shit on the beach. I guess the tide must wash it away, because there was less than there probably should have been. After a while I headed back to my room to use the internet. But oh wait…. the power was out in the whole town, and wasn’t coming back on until 5 that evening. I decided to do some writing instead. (Side note – the power would go off for a half hour or so every day after that.)

The owner of the guest house called to check in on me, and offered a ride to the neighboring beach (Agonda) so I could check it out. The beach was nice, and the guest huts were still being built, so no tourists were there yet. The owner (let’s call him X) was very friendly, but a little too attentive calling, texting, inviting me to dinner or drinks constantly. Even though Goa is “India light” as far as culture goes due to all the tourism, it is still India. Indian culture is very male dominated, and women are sheltered in a way. The women cover their arms and legs (although strangely not their bellies entirely), and definitely do not mix unchaperoned with young single men they’ve just met. Add to that the fact that I’ve consistently heard throughout my trip that western women (particularly Americans) are viewed as “easy”. Thanks a lot Sex in the City!! X may have just been trying to be friendly, but as a woman traveling alone it felt excessive, and was beginning to creep me out.

That night I went for dinner at one of the restaurants, and tried again to look approachable. I got nothing. I went to bed that night feeling bored and lonely, and it completely took me by surprise. Here I was in this beach town that was practically legendary, with no schedule and no friends. I have always considered myself independent. Being alone on an isolated beach somewhere was always my idea of heaven. This place wasn’t even isolated….. what the hell was going on?! Maybe it was because I came here with the hopes of making friends. Maybe it was because that dream scenario was always fantasized about in the context of city life, work, busy schedules, etc. Maybe it was the wrong setting. Maybe I was just having a moment….

The next morning I resolved to make a fresh start, and went in search of breakfast and friends. Looking approachable was getting me nowhere. I decided to change tactics and do the approaching. But there wasn’t anyone else alone to approach! It was still hot and grey out, I was bored and Goa wasn’t doing it for me. Time to move on. I had planned to spend a week in Goa, but at this point had only committed to my guest house for 4 nights. I could check out Gokarna a couple of hours south, or head down to Kerala a little earlier than I’d planned. I decided to give myself the extra time in Kerala, and spent the afternoon researching where to go, and weighing whether to fly (6 hours with a connecting flight for $150) or take the train (15+ hours for $17). (I’ve since heard great things about Gokarna! Ah well….)

After dodging X for the day, I sat down to a candle lit dinner on the beach (no power). While I was sitting there the power came back up, and I saw another woman around my age sitting alone, eating and reading a book. Aha!! I gave her some time to finish her meal, and just as I was about to approach her some local guy went up and started talking to her. I couldn’t believe it had come to this! I was competing with men for the attention of single women!! Finally he left, and I walked up to introduce myself. She was friendly and invited me to sit down for a drink. I found out she was British, but was living in Delhi. She had come to Goa originally for 5 weeks, and ended up spending the last 12 years back and forth between England and India. Along the way somewhere she designed and had some ankle bracelets made, sold them at a friend’s salon in Spain, and eventually turned it into a small jewelry business to support herself. No master plan, no jewelry background, just one thing that led to another. We talked about the finer points of long term travel like living out of a backpack, culture shock, staying in dodgy places etc. At some point I mentioned that I may have, possibly, been feeling a little lonely. She laughed a bit, and promised me that it was just part of the experience, and everyone goes through it even if they don’t talk about it. I went home that night feeling happy to have made a friend, and relieved that I wasn’t going through some kind of identity crisis.

The next day I met Allison for breakfast, and then booked my flight to Kerala. The weather must have cleared up without my noticing, because when I went to go for a swim that afternoon it was sunny and gorgeous! The water was literally like bathwater (84 degrees to be exact), and all of a sudden the beach was more vibrant and cheerful. I had dinner that night with Allison, and some other British guys she had met. Everything looked rosy just as I was getting ready to leave! I guess Goa didn’t want me to leave with a bad taste in my mouth.

On to the next….. I woke up at 4 am for my flight to Trivandrum almost at the very south of India, and then an hour drive to Varkala (another beach town).

What a difference some sun makes!

Cows at dusk. See what I mean?:

The next week and a half went by quickly, spending one or two days in a place before getting back on the bikes/bus and moving on. I guess I should rewind and explain the set-up. As I mentioned there are 6 people in my group which was perfect! We were a small enough group that we could go into a place, walk around and not feel like a swarm of tourists attacking. Cycling we could stay together relatively easily when we needed to, and when we had the space we could go at our own pace, but not be spread apart for miles on the roads. Our bus (later to be dubbed the disco bus) had 6 rows of seats, with the seats removed from one side to stow our bikes. The support team consisted of our group leader Pramod, a bus driver (who’s name I can’t remember, but was an excellent dancer), a bike mechanic Kishor, and another guy Rahul who helped with just about everything. They were all really friendly, patient, and jokesters in their own way.

Our group was Graham (with the Jodphur haircut), Sian (super athlete), Lucy (super hysterical), Tony (super easy going), and Ian (super chocoholic going through withdrawals). We were all pretty different (careers, lifestyles, interests etc), but everyone was out to have a good time so it worked out great. With something like this the dynamics of the group could either make or break the experience – and we definitely lucked out!

I left off in my last post the night we arrived in Udaipur. The next morning we woke up and got on our bikes for some sight seeing around the city. Udaipur is supposed to be the most romantic city in India. At the risk of sounding unromantic – I’m not entirely sure why it has that reputation. To me it was a busy smaller city with some man made lakes. What was particularly unromantic was the sense of pure fear I experienced at a couple points while cycling through traffic. I nudged a few cars with my bike in the chaos, got caught up in a game of chicken with a motorcycle, got cut off by a car…. I could go on. By the end of that ride I was wide eyed, every muscle was tensed, and every nerve ending was on high alert. If I hadn’t been so absorbed in avoiding the next vehicular onslaught I would have ditched my bike, and gotten in the damn bus. When we got back to the hotel everyone was laughing, and charged up on adrenaline. I was quiet. Thankfully that was to be the last of our riding in city traffic!

We visited the City Palace, and also the Jagdish Temple. I am always curious about different religions, so I loved hearing more about the Hindu religion at the temple. I knew there were several deities, but had no idea just how many there were! I’m still not really sure how many – I think our city guide said over 6,000, but I think there’s more than that even! While we were at the temple some people were decorating a statue, and our city guide explained that statues are cared for as if they were people. I don’t want to butcher the practice with an inaccurate explanation since I don’t fully understand – but basically they do everything for the statue that you would do for a person. Offer food, dress, put on make-up, etc at the appropriate time during the day, and then undo it all for night time. There was also a basil plant there, and the guide explained that basil is a holy plant in the Hindu religion. (Throughout our trip a lot of the palaces had built up pedestal planters for a basil plant.)

The next day we left Udaipur and headed towards Kumbhalgarh with 75 kilometers of cycling “undulating hills” in between. My understanding of undulating hills has been completely redefined. I now understand it to mean “a lot of big hills”. For the record – I cycled the whole thing. I finished way behind everyone else, but at least I finished. After being on a bike for hours on end I felt many new sensations. The one that has stayed with me for the last week and a half is a permanently numb left pinky finger.

We checked into our hotel, ate lunch and then got back onto our bikes for a short ride to Kumbhalgarh Fort. I loved visiting this fort because unlike a lot of the other sites we visited it was in a comparatively remote area so there were almost no other tourists to compete with, and the views were incredible. The fort was surrounded by a 36 kilometer wall. The wall is supposed to be the second longest continuous wall in the world (second to the Great Wall of China of course).

The next couple of days we visited Pushkar, and Jaipur but by this point the forts, palaces and temples were all starting to blend together. The best part of our days for me became the cycling. I can’t begin to describe how incredible cycling through the countryside is. It was peaceful watching Rajasthan flying by – no car windows or doors to separate you, sun, breeze. It can be hot and dusty, and the roads can be bumpy, but that goes with the territory. We had the longest ride of the trip (94 kilometers) as we headed towards Jaipur, and I actually enjoyed it. We took our time, stopping along the way for chai and snacks.

A week and a half into the trip we cycled to Sariska National Park/Tiger Reserve. The hotel we were staying at was off a rural road, right on the edge of the forest, with nothing other than a few local houses nearby. It was well appointed given the surroundings – a pool, outdoor seating areas, and open air restaurant. Both nights we were there they served us dinner around a bonfire. We were the only people staying at the hotel, so we pretty much had the full attention of the staff. It was great! Along with all of those wonderful things came a few perks of being in the country like: intermittent power, bugs and periodic cold showers.

Our original itinerary included a game drive, but the park had been closed temporarily by the government due to court proceedings. With tigers being so endangered the government was trying to put regulations in place to protect them, and had closed all parks with tigers to tourism in the meantime. Never one to waste a day, Pramod kept us busy with an early morning bike ride, set up a game of cricket with the staff, took us on a nature walk, and arranged for us to make dinner with the chef. Cricket may be the most popular sport in India, but it was my first time playing – and I was out at my first bat. I need a little practice….

News came that day that the park would reopen in the morning – just when we were scheduled to leave! Pramod made a few calls and was able to arrange an early morning game drive before we left. We were the first visitors since the park reopened so we were greeted by the park officials when we got there at the crack of dawn. Sadly no tiger spottings, just deer and antelope.

That day we cycled/bused to Bharatpur and visited the bird sanctuary. We were getting closer to the tourist track again, and you could see it at the rest stops. Giant tourist buses and big groups of 20-30+ people. We all cringed at the sight, which is kind of ironic since we are a tourist group as well – no matter how cool we may consider ourselves to be.

The following day was the final cycle of our trip, and also my birthday. I walked out to my bike which Lucy and Sian had decorated with marigold garland and little elephants with bells, making for a festive and noisy ride! I really liked riding my birthday bike. I felt as though I could fit in with the goods carrier trucks. I even got a raucous cheer while riding through a big group of school kids.

The afternoon we visited Fatehpur Sikri, and then the best Indian tourist destination of all – the Taj Mahal. Everything they say about how beautiful the Taj is is true. I was so in awe that the swarms of people didn’t bother me. It’s a good thing it was at the end of the trip. If we had seen it at the beginning the bar would have been set too high, and everything else would have been a let down.

That evening we went for dinner in Agra, and Pramod and the bus crew fully decked the inside of the bus out for my birthday. We had some Indian rum and coke on the way, they arranged for a birthday cake after dinner, and by the time we headed home the bus had officially turned into the disco bus with music and dancing! Here I am traveling alone on the other side of the world from home, and yet I lucked out spending my birthday with a fun group of people who went out of their way to help me celebrate my day. This birthday was definitely a memorable one!!

The last couple of days of our trip we visited the Agra Fort, then back to Delhi for our final evening. We said our goodbyes to the bus crew, and then goodbye to each other in the morning. I will be flying on to Goa alone. After two weeks with the group, it feels strange to be staying on in India without them. Strange and a little lonely. I only have my first two nights accommodations in Goa booked, and a flight out of Kerala scheduled for two weeks down the road. The next two weeks will be decidedly lower budget than the previous two. I plan to make my way down the coast, hopefully meet people along the way, and figure it all out as I go!

PS I just got the final stats from Ian on our cycling. Total distance: 332 miles. Total time: 27 hours. Total calories burned: 16,500 (that’s “about 50 odd beers” by his count)

I had an overnight flight from London to Delhi, and slept for about 2 hours. I’ve learned from experience to get a SIM card for my phone right away, so I was able to call my hotel and find my airport transfer without a problem. I checked into my hotel, and stayed there sleeping on and off until the next day. I’ll just go ahead and put it out there – I was a little nervous about India on my own. Before I came I read a lot of stories online about how difficult it is to travel as a woman alone here ex: people staring and taking pictures, guys rubbing up against you on the train, being flashed and generally harassed. Between that and the news on the anti-American demonstrations…..I was seriously intimated. By the time I got up the courage to leave the hotel it was mid-afternoon. The only thing that finally got me out the door was the thought that I am here in this crazy, chaotic, exotic city, and if I didn’t do some exploring on my own I would be disappointed one day.

My hotel is about 2 blocks from the metro station in an area called Karol Bagh, so I decided to jump in and give public transportation a try. The metro ride is 15 rupies (29 cents)! Everything was signed in Hindi and English, and pretty easy to figure out. Once inside the station you have to go through security and a metal detector before you can get to the platform. While waiting I noticed the “ladies only” line for security which is MUCH shorter then the men’s line (probably because there are so many less ladies out and about). Once past security I followed the women, and found out there are also “ladies only” cars on the metros! They were – can I say relaxing? It wasn’t as crowded, had AC, and nobody really paid much attention to me. It’s true that as a foreign woman walking around alone everyone stares at you, BUT at least you get to go in the ladies only areas.

I took the train to the Chadni Chowk stop, and when I got off there were no street signs so I just walked around looking for the Red Fort. I walked around in complete sensory overload for a while. There were horns honking, lots of yelling, so many things to look at (people, street food, shops with gold, jewels and saris…..). I faked confidence and walked purposefully down the street as if I knew where I was going, and nobody really tried to stop me. I walked purposefully for a little too long, so after about 20 minutes I stopped for a soda. While I was standing there a man walked up and started talking to me. Oh no, here goes….! He asked me the usual questions “First time in Delhi?”, “How long are you here for?”. I responded with one word answers as I drank my soda. Then the question I was worried about – “Where are you from?”. I don’t know what was wrong with me, but I didn’t think quick enough, and responded with the truth – “The US”. Shit. I waited for him to start cursing me, or at least give me a nasty look. He responded with something along the lines of “Welcome”. That was it. I don’t know how I was expecting people to react when I said I was American – but “Welcome” was not it. Considering how well this was going I decided to ask him how to get to the Red Fort. And he told me! I said thanks and goodbye. No fuss, no wrong directions, no offers to be my tour guide.

The Red Fort: built in the mid 1600s, and got its name from the red sandstone used to make the walls surrounding the fort. Inside there are several different white marble buildings that were used as meeting halls, a mosque, a hammam and living quarters. From what I read it was once pretty spectacular with colorfully painted walls, gold and silver ceilings, intricate gardens and pools. The days when visitors would arrive on elephants was definitely over, so you have to use a little imagination.

By the time I finished at the Red Fort it was later than I expected, so I headed home before it got too dark. After my first day out on my own I decided that reading internet travel stories about India is kind of like self diagnosing a health problem on the internet. You convince yourself the worst will happen. I wouldn’t say my day in Delhi was a breeze, but it definitely wasn’t what I had prepared myself for. Thankfully.

The next day I checked out of my hotel, and went to meet up with my tour group. The group is small – only 6 people (split evenly between guys and girls), all British and I’m definitely the least experienced cycler in the group. We checked out our bikes, and then met up for dinner to get to know each other. Only two people knew each other before they came on this trip, so the rest of us were all meeting each other for the first time that day.

The next morning was an early start – 6:30am. This may or may not come as news to you, but I am not a morning person. I faked my best attempt at cheerfulness, and joined the group. We were starting with a 25 kilometer bike ride around northern Delhi. It was early on a Sunday morning, so they claimed the traffic wasn’t bad. We stopped for Chai and some sort of fried potato sandwich along the way.

That afternoon we saw the Jama Masjid mosque, the President’s House (a humble 344 room home) with India Gate leading up to it, and Raj Ghat (a memorial to Mahatma Ghandi).

The accommodations for the evening would be the train from Delhi to Jodhpur. 2nd Class AC sleeper train. 2nd class was fine, but they say general admission is the real deal. People sit wherever, stand if they need to, or hold on partly hanging out of the car if that’s what it takes. I hear the train is a quintessential India experience, but I’m glad not to be doing it alone!
(Me with Pramod (our guide) and some random guy that walked into our picture)

The next morning after we checked into our new hotel and got some breakfast, we had a little free time. One of the guys in the group (Graham) and I decided to catch a bicycle rickshaw to the market area. Graham had mentioned wanting to get his hair cut short, so I pointed out the first barber shop I saw. He tried to explain what he wanted, but it got a little lost in translation. Instead of electric clippers the man pulled out some metal manual clipper things that looked like they could have been from the early 1900s. I was afraid for him. Finally the barber ending up borrowing the clippers from another shop next door. This was only a slight improvement since he didn’t actually know how to use them. After he was done I inspected, and had to make him go back over twice to clean it up.

Cycling that day was a little more intense. We were in heavier traffic this time, squished alongside and in between cars, trucks, bicycles, rickshaws. They have a slightly different idea about traffic lanes than we do, and generally if there are supposed to be 2 lanes of traffic, there will actually be 3 or more. And they are not really lanes. It’s like a giant game of Tetris with drivers sliding their vehicle of choice in wherever it fits, and they have the nerve to go. Sometimes you may find yourself going down a one way street, only to find a motorcycle or rickshaw headed right for you, going in the complete opposite direction of traffic. It will to be the honking that will drive me mad though. Beeping here is automatic, kind of like breathing. It’s constant, grating, comes from all sides, and sometimes is not for any reason other than to announce their presence. I feel seriously disadvantaged without a horn.

To keep things interesting, there are also cows roaming around. They seem to go wherever they want, but mostly they are alongside the road eating the garbage. When they are not doing that the rest of the time they are in the median, or maybe even in the middle of a lane of traffic forcing everyone to go around them.

When we first met our guide Pramod he gave a piece of advice about bicycling in India that came to mind that day. He said you have to be like a deer – “Look left, look right, and then just jump. In India we believe in reincarnation……”. I hadn’t fully considered/understood the traffic when I decided this bicycle tour in India was a good idea.

In Jodhpur we visited the Mehrangarh Fort with amazing views. Similar to Chefchaoen in Morocco, it is known as the blue city because so many of buildings are painted blue (it looks like the same shade as Morocco too).

The Mehrangarh Fort is one of the largest in India and was built in the 15th century, with major additions in the mid 1600s. Here’s a heartwarming story. In order to bring his new home good fortune the Maharaja who built the Fort/Palace had a man buried alive in the foundation. He had promised the man that in return his family would be looked after forever. Today there is a place within the fort where some descendants of the buried man still live.

While we walked around we heard about how things would have been. The Maharajas were incredibly wealthy, and had hundreds of servants to maintain their grounds. They also had as many wives and mistresses as they wanted. The women were mostly kept separate in their own quarters, and would watch proceedings from viewing points (often with the view obstructed so they could see out, but you couldn’t see in). Everything revolved around the Maharaja, and obviously the ladies would compete for his time.

Our nights on this trip end early considering that pretty much every morning is an early morning. Wake-up calls are anywhere between 6 and 7 am. Ugh. This night I was particularly good, since Tuesday was planned to be our first distance day! We were scheduled to ride 75k divided up between the morning and afternoon.

We started off riding out of Jodhpur and into the countryside. The morning ride was about 40k and pretty flat. Once we got out of city traffic it was so different!! You didn’t have someone up your ass all the time, it was quieter, and you could actually look around a bit. There were still quite a few cars on the road, and a lot more of these “goods trucks” that are hauling…. goods. Almost all the truck drivers have their trucks decked out in some way. Some have black tassels flying off the side mirrors, designs painted on the front grills, tin pieces affixed to the outside of the cab, etc. Wouldn’t want to miss a perfectly good opportunity to decorate something! I’m dying to get a picture of a good one, but this will at least give you the idea.

We broke the day up by visiting a Jain temple in Ranakpur. The Jain religion was formed out of Hindu, with a few major differences – a couple are that they don’t worship any gods, and don’t believe in killing ANY thing. Devout followers will wear masks around so they don’t accidentally swallow bugs, and sweep the ground before they walk on it so they don’t step on any either. Another difference is in the temples. Jain temples are primarily decorated on the inside, as they believe in inner beauty. Hindu temples are more decorated on the outside.

That afternoon we got back on our bikes in a much greener, hillier area. One of the best parts about going through the country is just watching the people go by, and away from major cities you see a lot more people in traditional clothing. Of the people we saw, most of the men wore western clothing, but maybe 1 in 4 wore more traditional style clothing including turbans (pagari) and dhoti (the cloth they wrap and tie to create pants). A lot more of the ladies wore traditional style clothes. They wear bright colors almost exclusively (turq, magenta, orange, gold), with cropped short sleeve tops, a scarf draped across their torso, and another sheer scarf fully covering their heads and faces. Pramod said the scarf covering the head came with the influence of the Mughal’s.

They are big fans of jewelry here. The men all wear earrings and rings, the ladies have nose rings (some with a large gold ornament). Even a baby brought out to say hello at an afternoon picture stop had earrings and ankle bracelets. Also used by men, women and children – eyeliner! Made out of burned mustard seed oil. They believe it is healthy for the eyes.

As we go by most people wave and shout. They think it’s crazy to see white people riding around on bikes for fun (not work). (There are some people who won’t acknowledge you, or look you in the face as they walk by. I think they are either annoyed, disgusted or confused, but there aren’t that many of them.) When we stop for water or a break people swarm around interested to get in on the action. As the crowd grows in number the people usually get bolder – eventually sometimes touching the bikes, or changing the gears. People will push your boundaries because it’s a novelty, and their curious to see how far they can go. You kind of just have to go with it, and feel out how to draw a line when you’re uncomfortable. The concept of personal space here is different than I have ever experienced before. There just IS no personal space. That extends to vehicles/motorcycles/bikes.

By the time we got to our hotel in Udaipur that night I was wishing my padded bike pants had more padding, and wondering if I would be able to move my legs at all the next day…..

I took the Eurostar underground train from Paris to London. So easy – about a 2 1/2 hour ride, no airport hassle! The only glitch was that after I got my ticket and saw there was no line for security, I ran to the bathroom real quick. I came back 5 minutes later and got stuck behind a giant tour group of seniors, and ended up missing my train! The trains run almost every hour though, so I just got on the next one.

Couple of pics on the way from the train. I like that they tell you which way to look for traffic, because I forget.

Once I got to London I grabbed a taxi to my friend Joyce’s apartment in Camden, and visited with her room mate for a while until she got home. Joyce had come to meet me in Barcelona for the weekend earlier in my trip, so this is the second time I’m getting to see her since I left the US. I’m trying to plant the seeds for her to make a SE Asia trip, but I think I may be out of luck.

The next couple of days were pretty mellow. We went out for dinners, I went running, booked some flights, and did more trip research. Joyce lives near right near Regents Park which was perfect because I need to back in shape – quick!! The tour I signed up for in India is a bicycle tour around Delhi and Rajasthan. We average 70 kilometers a day, with some days up to 85-90 kilometers. Not being able to exercise in some places I’ve traveled to has been tough, and I’m not really appreciating the extra weight I’ve put on as a result. A bike tour seemed like the perfect solution! But I’ve probably ridden a bike less than 10 times in the last 18 years. I’ll let you know how that works out….

Friday I caught a train to visit my cousin Kelly in Leicester for the weekend. She and her husband had moved from the US in the winter, and just had a new baby in June. It was great to see them, and funny to hear about their adjustment to UK life. You’d think it wouldn’t be that different, but things you never think about like cell phone plans, laundry machines, coffee, power switches on electrical outlets – all different.

Another difference? We don’t have stores for these kinds of things in the US….

We had a nice long weekend visiting, and went to Foxton Locks to walk around. You can rent these house boats, and drive them around the canals and locks on your own.

That Tuesday I caught the train back to London. I had emailed my friend Michael that I met in South Africa, and we met up for dinner that night. Why can’t I ever remember to take pictures?!

The next day I met Joyce for coffee, walked around a little bit, and saw the outside of Buckingham Palace. Then the airport for my overnight flight to Delhi!

I left Friday morning and slept the whole train ride to Paris. My head kept dropping to the side and hovering just above the shoulder of the man sitting next to me. After 9 restful days in Biarritz I am still tired!! I am also having a little problem with brain function. My memory isn’t very good normally, but lately it’s pretty bad. I have a hard time remembering what day it is, doing basic math, or remembering names of people I know well. I’m also having trouble thinking of words in English sometimes. Between you and me – I’m sick of jumping around. I’m definitely not complaining, but it would be nice to stay in one place for a couple weeks. Talk to the same people, hear the same language, see the same streets. Planning that in for later in my trip.

Back to Friday! My friend Floriane met me in the train station, and we caught a taxi together to her parent’s house in St. Maur. Floriane had been interning in NYC for the summer, and within the last couple weeks came back to Paris, moved to Lyon, and started her semester. She came up to Paris for the weekend to see her friends and family, and was working me into the mix as well. To top it off, her parents generously offered to host me for my whole stay in Paris!!

We went to her house to drop off our bags, met her family, sat down to a nice glass of wine, and then her father drove us back into Paris to meet her friends for a graduation dinner at a Tapas place in Le Marais. We had a little time before her reservation so we walked to the Louve to see the outside lit up at night (gorgeous). You could have a great night there just sitting on the lawn with a bottle of wine!

Back at the restaurant I met her friends – who all spoke English. It always surprising how common it is for people to speak several languages. Her friends all studied English in school, but I can’t tell you how many people I’ve met along the way that have learned it from just watching movies! It was a nice night with them jumping back and forth from French to English. I shouldn’t admit this, but it’s kind of a relief not to speak the language sometimes. You feel no responsibility to follow a conversation or respond.

The next day we took the train back into the city, and spent the day running around Paris. We went to see the Eiffel Tower, and then took a boat trip around the Seine and watched the Musèe d’Orsee, Notre Dame etc. go by. As we went we passed by a couple of bridges covered with locks. Floriane explained that couples come to the bridge together and attach a lock as a symbol of their love. Two things they say about Paris that really are true – 1) It’s romantic. There’s people everywhere with their arms around each other, holding hands or kissing. 2) People do love their baguettes. It’s almost an extra accessory.

After the boat we happened to walk by the US embassy, and were confused by the TV station vans and military surrounding it. It was very strange, but we kept walking as we were late to meet up with her hairdresser for a visit and some champagne at his salon. We stayed there chatting for a while, and then met up with a friend of Floriane’s from New York for dinner. We laughed about how strange it was for the three of us to be connected by New York, but be sitting across the table from each other in Paris.

Sunday we slept in, and then went out to do some errands around St. Maur. I followed Floriane around as she stopped by the cheese shop, the patisserie, the wine shop etc. I loved how there were all these small shops that truly specialized in one thing or other. Then we went to the Sunday market and wandered through the stalls. They had everything including clothes, bags etc, but what I loved were the tables and tables of food! All the vegetables seemed more colorful and fun piled on top of each other. The olive stand was like an art installation. Floriane visited with the lady at the seafood section who asked about her father. All of our stops were to pick up things for dinner that day, but we ended up visiting with the different shopkeepers/stall owners along the way. There was such a sense of community, and it felt good to be walking around in the fresh air. It was so different from my version of shopping at the grocery store in New York. That afternoon Floriane’s mother made an incredible dinner of foie gras risotto. After 3 months of traveling and living out of a backpack, I can’t tell you how nice it was to sit down to a table and have a home cooked meal with family conversation! Floriane left that evening to go back to Lyon, so I lost my chic tour guide but she left me in the care of her equally chic and welcoming family.

The next day I braved the Paris train system on my own (no problem), and went to the tourist office to apply for my India visa. Online it looked like I could get it back in 3 days, but I found out it would be more like 6 so I would have to extend my stay in Paris for a couple of days. I wandered around the city for the rest of the afternoon, and then headed back to my “home” in St. Maur to have dinner with Floriane’s mother and brother.

That evening as I was doing trip research Floriane’s mother mentioned that there had been some protests, and I should check the news to make sure it wouldn’t impact my India trip. Weird – I wondered if that had something to do with the news and military we saw walking by the US embassy the other day? And that was how I learned about that movie that is causing all the chaos. It’s amazing (and sad) the kind of damage a nobody with some money and a camera can cause. Particularly when aided by people ready exploit just that type of thing to further an agenda.

I spent most of the next day working on trip research. I was planning to spend October in India, and had heard Northern India was rough for solo women travelers. After looking at the news and seeing they had closed the US embassy in Delhi for a couple of days due to protests I got a little nervous, and thought it might be best to join a tour for at least the beginning of my India trip, and then travel solo in Southern India. My approach to any sort of planning is to research and weigh all of my options before making a decision. One of the best things about the internet is the quantity and variety of information available. That is also one of the worst things about the internet…. There went the whole day (along with several days to come)!

The next week I went on a Paris sightseeing binge. I went to the Louvre with Floriane’s brother. We were there almost 4 hours, and only got through the paintings and breezed through the sculptures! We stopped at Pierre Herme, and ate the most insane macarons I have ever had.

Floriane’s mother drove me an hour to Veaux le Vicomte, and we spent the afternoon wandering. Veaux le Vicomte has a very interesting story actually. It was built in the mid 1600s by Nicolas Fouquet, the superintendent of finances for Louis XIV. Fouquet drew a little too much attention with his extravagance, and made a few enemies (including Louis the XIV). He was eventually accused of stealing public funds, and was jailed for the rest of his life. BUT the King was so impressed by the estate, he hired the same team to build a bigger, better version – Versailles.

Of course I had to see Versailles to compare. Too bad it was raining so I couldn’t see the gardens!
While I was there there was an exhibit by Joana Vasconcelos which was completely over the top (earning its place in Versailles), but was bizarre to see against the centuries old paintings and furniture.

Palais Garnier: Gorgeous! Took a tour, and heard about the role the opera played in the social lives of (wealthy) people in the late 1800s. But what was even more interesting was what was alluded to have gone on in those boxes!

Montmatre: I was disappointed by the Moulin Rouge, which looked random and fake.

Basilica Sacre-Coeur: I’ve had my fill of churches. I just looked at the outside, and checked out the view of the city.

Espace Dalí:

Les Puces de Saint-Ouen (flea market): Maybe I’m naive, but I was surprised to find a bunch of shops instead of an open air flea market with stalls.

Rodin Museum: I loved this place. Parts of the grounds were under construction, but you could still get a feel for how beautiful the gardens were. And the sculptures of course were stunning. They touched a little bit on his mistress/mentee Camille Claudel who was extremely talented, but who spent the last 30 years of her life in an insane asylum. Of course my curiosity is piqued, but I-books has no English books on her…

Family dinner! I forget the name of it, but it was tasty. You cook the meat on the hot plate, heat the cheese in little pie shaped dishes, and then put both on some potato.

Monday I went to pick up visa. It was ready early! I spent the rest of the day restocking clothes for my trip, and looking for new sneakers to replace my boots. I had decided my boots weren’t really practical. The “explorer group” comment in Biarritz may have also played a part in my decision to retire them. I was eventually sent to Citadium (a skate/street/fashion lifestyle store) with a great selection of sneakers. This place was a shoppers paradise for cool kids!! Fussball, a toy section, candy, great music….

India visa in hand, the next day I boarded the train for London!