Thoughts of a Nomadic One

I was riding slowly just past the town of Butwal on the Siddhartha Highway when it happened. The traffic within city limits was much more chaotic and concentrated than the twisty mountain roads so I took it slow. I was riding along and just passed a minor intersection when I noticed a girl holding her bicycle in the middle of the road. I became cautious, anticipating any sudden movements by her or traffic around me. She looked up and saw me, we made eye contact and I relaxed a bit figuring she noticed my approach. However, at the last moment she bolted in front of me and with heavy traffic around me I could not swerve in time. So I braked as heavily and as safely as I could, hoping there would be enough stopping distance, and braced for impact.

The motorcycle struck her bicycle's back wheel at around 10-15km/hr and it wobbled for a second before I managed to stabilize it. I pulled over, took off my sunglasses, my helmet and my balaclava. I dismounted from the motorcycle and started walking back. I saw the girl walking her bicycle to the side of the road. Since she didn't seem to have any major injuries, my first emotion was that of relief. I noticed there were some people talking to her and, upon seeing my approach, they seemed surprised that I had actually stopped. I walked over and asked her three times if she was okay and she indicated she was unhurt. Her confirmation greatly relieved my fears and concerns. Her bicycle's back-wheel frame was bent out-of-shape; it would require a replacement but otherwise no major work would be required.

I believed the accident wasn't my fault since I did everything I could to avoid the incident. However, I was a realist and knew I would get squeezed (asked/suggested/blackmailed to pay a damage fee) since I was a foreigner. Within 5 minutes, a man who was trying to take leadership of the situation said, "Okay, give 1000 Rupees." I laughed, 1000 NRs (~$15 CDN) was slightly more than 6 times the rate of my hotel room in Pokhara! First of all, I didn’t think I should pay for any damages at all and, furthermore, 1000 NRs was ludicrous and I told him that. When he threatened to call the police, I strongly considered waiting for them to arrive and settle the matter. I think the representative was very taken aback when I didn’t panic at his threat and strongly considered it. After five minutes of wrangling, we took the bicycle to a repair shop and asked a mechanic to assess the damages and cost of repair. Once again, I knew I would probably not get an honest quote since I couldn’t understand Nepali. On the way to the bike shop, I asked a younger onlooker if he agreed that 1000 NRs was too much. He seemed to agree and said maybe 600-700 NRs would be closer. As I expected, after having a conversation with the mechanic, the main representative told me that it would cost 1000 NRs for all the parts and repairs required. I laughed, he was definitely getting a cut of the money so I said, "No." He then thought about it and revised the price down to 800 NRs. I thought this obviously showed that he wasn't exactly truthful but since I needed to get to Lumbini before sundown I took out 1000 NRs and asked for 200 back. But after he took the 1000, he refused and said, "No, 1000 NRs! 200 NRs for repairs." Now I was angry, there wasn't much I could do except to wait for the police but I didn't have the time. In my last ditch effort at trying to make things more positive, I took the money back and gave it to the girl directly hoping she could spend it on repairs and keep the extra that would've gone to the translator/middleman/scum. But not even a second after that, she handed it immediately to the representative and I became even more enraged and chuckled. I even became cynical enough to wonder whether this whole event was a scam and whether I should have stopped or not. Before leaving for my destination, I asked for directions to Lumbini to confirm. It was the most expensive directions I've ever gotten.

When I got back to Petrova, the name of my rental motorcycle (Bajaj Pulsar 180cc), I was glad to see there didn't seem to be any damage to the bike. I rode away pissed-off but, remembering the lesson from my motorcycle safety course regarding emotions influencing safety, I tried not to dwell on the incident.

Due to the incident, I was somewhat down for the rest of the day but I tried to think optimistically. I thought to myself, the most important thing was that no one was hurt, the bike sustained no damages and $15 was more to them than it was to me. I also had a brilliant day of riding excluding the accident of course. The twisting and windy roads of the Siddhartha Highway were incredibly fun, challenging and dangerous. I was cautious with my speed and control however, trucks and buses making blind corners gave me a few close calls even as I slowed down and honked repeatedly before my approach. Since I was on a 180cc road bike with no off-road experience, many stretches of the highway were challenging and made me anxious. In these stretches, the tarmac would disappear replaced by sand and stone. I would concentrate on navigating around big potholes and taking the least rocky path; all while avoiding traffic and worrying about my tires. After the first day, I was glad I went with a Japanese style shifting bike that I was used to (1 down, 4 up) rather than the heavy Royal Enfield which have a different setup with shifters located on the right side. I was thankful for having taken a motorcycle safety (basic riding) course since clutch control, obstacle riding and collision management were all important on Day 1 of my motorcycle tour.

After a night mostly awake hunting mosquitoes, I rode Petrova into the Lumbini conservation area. The rectangular walled area contains monasteries built by governments and Buddhist groups around the world. At the center of the UNESCO world heritage site, the Maya Devi temple encloses the exact spot where Queen Mayadevi gave birth to Siddhartha Gautama, commonly known as Buddha. My first stop was the Maya Devi temple. I circumnavigated the sacred grounds and witnessed the Faithfuls offer prayers at the Bodhi tree. Colourful prayer flags were hung all leading to the large and old sacred fig tree. A monk was leading a group through prayers in front of the Asokan pillar. Within the Maya Devi temple, worshipers circumnavigate a stone marking the exact birthplace of Lord Siddhartha. I bemusedly wonder to myself how accurate the marker is considering it's suppose to mark an event that took place more than 2500 years ago.

After a quick visit to the Zhong Hua Chinese Buddhist Monastery, a miniature and simpler version of the Forbidden City, I rode Petrova to the Vietnamese Monastery. According to my Lonely Planet Nepal (2006), the Vietnam Phac Quoc Tu Temple should've been finished in 2006. A sign posted on the outside said otherwise and evidently construction was still in progress. While I was stopped reading the sign, a monk spotted me through the gate and approached to explain visitors weren't allowed just yet. He then asked where I was from and I replied, "Canada." He then became very excited and expressed he studied at UBC and lived in B.C. for twenty years! After pausing for a second, he proceeded to ask me whether I wanted to take a quick 10 minute tour and I jumped on the chance and said yes. Although the complex was not complete, I could see it was very close to the projected completion date of July 2009. It was beautifully landscaped and the roof had detailed carvings of dragons. There was a beautiful pond and garden with replica cranes and one live one as well. In one of the ponds, there were steps leading to a platform shaped like Vietnam. The steps in the other one led to a water temple, according to the monk, similar but smaller than the one in Hanoi. I was then led up the steps to the main temple where pilgrims and visitors would pray. The intricate carvings of the deities were made in Hanoi and shipped to Lumbini. Adjacent to the temple was a new building which will act as hotel facilities for visitors when the complex is open. While I was in the main temple admiring the carvings of the deities, the friendly monk suggested I could offer my prayers for my family and friends. Not wanting to offend him and refuse his generosity by explaining to him I was an Atheist Secular Humanist, I put my palms together and thought of my family. I wished them all good health and attempted to telepathically convey my gratitude to them. I thought maybe I was too quick so I whispered "a mi tuo fo" and thought of my closest friends. I wished them all the best and my thanks for their friendships. I then said one final "a mi tuo fo" and thanked the monk for giving me such an opportunity. I was very fortunate to get an advanced tour of the temple and promised to tell me friends and family to visit.

The ride to Sauraha (a town by the Chitwan National Park) was longer than I expected. I had projected the duration to be four hours but instead it took five and a half. I had to ask for directions 7 times so no one can ever say I don't ask for directions (though I still believe if Christopher Columbus didn't need them, neither do I). My journey was supposed to be on highways and main roads yet for many stretches my tires were on rocks and sand which worried me greatly. On the upside, my riding skills both on and off-road have improved immensely. I had some real close calls on some of the passing and traffic today but that's just the norm in Nepal. I just hope my bad habits (such as honking at every moving thing to let them know my location) don't stay with me once I'm back in Canada!

I must say, even though I had some challenges and lost some money due to the accident described above, I truly enjoy motorcycle touring. Traveling by motorcycle makes me feel so much more in touch with the environment and at it's mercy. You're not confined within a cage or frame with glass separated with the world you wish to explore. Riding on the motorcycle, I was able to hear, smell and feel the places I visit and pass by. The motorcycle also allowed me to experience one example of Nepali courteousness. After getting some directions from an army highway outpost, I got confused once again and stopped by a market to ask for further directions. A local man expressed I had to keep going and turn left at some point. As I was getting to continue on in search of the illusive road to Sauraha off of the highway, he walked up to me and expressed he would show me the way and hopped-on the back of Petrova (no, I usually do not condone 2-men-up since I like to stick to a male-to-female ratio of 1:y, where y is greater than or equal to 1). After riding for about 20 seconds, the helpful local tapped me on my shoulder and pointed to the gate I was looking for. He then hopped off and after I thanked him "dhanyabad" he walked back.

For those of you with a strong sense of curiousity, I have a danger I must warn you about. Lonely Planet likes to include fun tidbits every now and then which are mostly harmless. That is not the case for the food section of Sauraha. After reading about a strange Dutch entree called Patatje Oorlog, I decided to order it (even though it was the most expensive thing on the menu). The combination of fries, onions, peanut butter and mayonnaise sounded interesting but it was far from good or even gastronomically edible. Even though I was famished and this was the first and my only meal of the day, I could not finish it. Lesson learned: never let my curiosity mix with LP food tidbits! Also, Dutch cuisine is going on my "Black" list.

Patatje Oordlog served!

That was disgusting, I couldn't even finish it and it was my only meal in 24 hours.

Written: February 3, 2009

While I love Wikis, specifically the site Wikitravel, they’re not exactly impervious to bias. The Wikitravel entry for Pokhara includes a line that states the city is “considered by many to be the most beautiful place in the whole wide world.” Pokhara, the second largest city in Nepal, is a lovely city situated by Phewa Tal Lake and surrounded by majestic mountains. After spending a few days there, it’s hard to disagree with that statement.

I left Varanasi at 6 pm for Sunauli. Staring out the window, I watched the hustle and bustle, the shops, the shanties and countless faces. My mind scrolled through all the sights and smells of India I captured, ones which could not be taken on camera, stored in my head. I thought of towns and villages zooming by on train rides. I thought of the innumerable small one-room shops with the shopkeepers looking back at you. I saw images of men standing in a group drinking chai, faces of kids looking back at you curiously. I saw a country quickly adapting and advancing technology. However, I also witnessed India’s sheer poverty and inequality. I’ve spoken to many travelers about India. While it is not my favourite country, my visit has been truly an eye opening and enriching experience for which I am thankful.

The bus ride to Sunauli was extremely bumpy and cold. The window beside my seat refused to stay closed. After two minutes of fully closing it, it would creep back down by 1 cm and after five minutes it would be down by 5 cm letting in a chilly stream of air. I wore my toque, windstopper, outer jacket and gloves yet I was still cold. The constant need to push my windows up and the cold prevented me from getting much sleep. Finally, we arrived to the Sunauli border stop at 4:30 am. Since it was pitch dark and we had no clue where the actual Indian-Nepali border offices were, we had to spend some time walking around and avoiding rickshawallas. Jeff, a Taiwanese guy I met on the bus, and I followed a Tibetan monk since we expected he would know the way. However, after 5 minutes we realized he had no idea and followed our instincts. After getting some directions from a jeep driver, we found the Indian customs office and waited an hour before it opened and a sleepy border guard gave us our exit stamp. After a short walk across the border into Nepal, within minutes, we got our entry visas and hopped on a bus for Pokhara.

Even though the bus ride from Sunauli to Pokhara was more scenic it was still a painful experience. The old creaky bus was crammed with passengers and, from the very start, there was a group of teenagers loudly laughing, talking and yelling throughout the long 9.5 hour trip. Additionally, the journey on the Siddhartha Nagar highway was dizzying, the traffic dangerous and the cliff drops a bit scary. At one point everyone in the bus looked over to the left side of the bus. I asked a passenger what he was looking at and after a pause, he hesitantly replied, “Accident.” A bus had gone over the edge and down the 100 metre cliff; it was impossible for anyone to survive that. I was glad I took a day bus instead of the notorious night buses for this scenic yet treacherous journey. Still, the combination of aggressive driving style, the lack of rails and the huge cliff drops right out my window made my stomach churn every now and then. One mistake or a faulty brake would easily send the bus over the edge and into all but certain death. We arrived in Pokhara at 4:30 pm after 9.5 hours but, perhaps due to my anxiety, I definitely felt like the trip was longer.

===

After checking around, Jeff and I settled into different hotels before meeting up for dinner. I’m proud to boast that due to our aggressive bargaining skills he was able to score a double room with common shower/toilet for 120 NRs ($2 CND) and I paid 165 NRs ($2.5 CDN) for a double with hot shower/toilet per night. Both of our hotels were in Lakeside Central and I highly recommend people to go to Hotel Peace Horizon if they visit Pokhara. After settling in, we had dinner at the Rainbow Restaurant and Bar and I had a spaghetti bolognaise; the first time I had meat in 2.5 weeks and it was scrumptious. Pokhara would turn out to be a great place to feast and I went back to Rainbow quite a few times during my stay in the city. I spent the next day walking around the main touristy strip of Lakeside and its surrounding areas. Since Jeff was taking off for a trek in the Annapurna region the next day, we had a steak dinner at New Everest and the half-steak was filling and fantastic.

On my last day in Pokhara before taking off on motorcycle, I decided to hike up to the International Peace Pagoda. I took the scenic route to the pagoda, located on a narrow ridge overlooking Pokhara, by following the directions from Lonely Planet (LP). Finding my way was a challenge since LP’s directions were more of a loose guide. After hiking 1.5 hours through rice paddies, farmland and forested areas, I became somewhat worried about my lack of fitness and how I would fare on the Everest Base Camp (EBC) trek. I alleviated my concerns by realizing most of my anxiety centered on being lost, not knowing the direction and I would have enough time to take lots of breaks. I felt relieved and I rejoiced when I finally came upon the clearing in front of the pagoda. The view truly was amazing, the pagoda very beautiful and the trek well worth the effort. I sat to catch my breath and admired the snow-capped peaks surrounding Pokhara. I watched the hawks circle and surf the hot-air currents abundant above the hilly range. I wished I could do the same (which is possible in Pokhara, a pursuit called “hawk-assisted paragliding”).

International Peace Pagoda, Pokhara

Pokhara by Phewa Tal Lake

Machapuchare in the clouds

During my exploration of the pagoda, I saw a guy with a Team Canada shirt and a Canadian flag on his backpack. I approached him and said, “Can you make it any more obvious that you’re Canadian? Do you also have MEC gear?” I jokingly checked his backpack and ironically it was indeed a MEC bag with an oversize Canadian flag which he explained he got in his younger days for backpacking Europe. I chatted a bit with him and his girlfriend Danielle about India and Nepal. Another group of tourists nearby overheard us and humorously asked him, “Why?” when he said they were heading to India. I prepped them for the Indian experience by telling them my “toilet everywhere” story. I also met an Italian tourist who had recently done the EBC trek and he said it was great. With regards to the trek, he reassured me the lodges were open, it was not too painfully cold and that meeting other independent trekkers would be easy. Effectively, he took care of all my major concerns and made me even more excited about the trek with his enthusiastic description of excellent clear weather conditions.

Finally, after walking around inspecting the pagoda, which was a 3-tiered structure and had statues depicting Siddhartha’s major life events, I snapped a few pictures and made my way back to town. I had earlier considered taking the direct return route and paying for a boat ride back to Lakeside; however, after resting for a while and feeling more confident I would remember the way back I decided to hoof it and save a few dollars. I made it back to town in under 1 hour, took a relaxing hot shower before hitting Rainbow for some lasagna bolognaise. It was an early night for me since I needed to wake-up early to pack, rent a bike and start my motorcycle tour of Nepal. I had a hard time sleeping that night since I kept thinking of the windy roads, the big cliffs and the chaotic traffic. Though I was anxious, the excitement of such a trip outweighed all my concerns and I never back down from a challenge. I told myself: if I left Nepal without riding its challenging roads and explore its towns, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

See you in eight days Pokhara!

Written: January 30, 2009

Preface: First of all, I apologize for the long delay since my last update. It's taken a bit of time to get settled back into normal life and I've been procrastinating. Perhaps, as in previous experience, I was also denying and delaying the finality of my trip.

The corpses wrapped in saffron silk burn brightly in the night sky. The sun has just set. There are eighteen cremations taking place at Manikarnika Ghat, also known as the Burning Ghat, and many more are being queued up in the middle awaiting their turn. The sky above Manikarnika is filled with smoke, it remains so day and night for Death waits for no one. I am within metres of the cremations and the odors of death, a combination of smoke; ash and sandalwood, fill my nostrils.

I notice that one of the cremations nearby is almost complete. After 3 hours of burning, the closest male relative tosses a clay pot of Ganga water into the embers over his shoulder. He and the rest of the attending family, all males, walk away and do not look back. Female relatives aren’t allowed to attend since some would throw themselves into the funeral pyre in grief and desperation. A friend of mine told me that fact made her visit more moving.

The cremations happen at all hours. With the departure of the previous family upon completion of the cremation, a new one arrives to take its place. A group of eight family members carry a body wrapped in saffron coloured cloth to the funeral pyre with re-stacked firewood. The quality and the amount of firewood depends on how wealthy was the deceased. In a way, wealth and social hierarchy still apply even in death. The family of the deceased transport the body; covered with roses, jasmine and marigolds; from all over India to Varanasi, which is considered the Holy City of the Hindus and most auspicious place to die. It is believed that bathing in the River Ganges will wash away one's sins.

More than 1 million believers make the pilgrimage to Varanasi each year. During my visit, I witnessed many funeral processions. The male relatives carry their recently loved one, wrapped in bright saffron coloured cloth, on their shoulder through the timeless and narrow windy streets to the shores of Mother Ganges. They repeatedly chant, "Rama Nama Satya Hai!", meaning "God’s name is truth". A custom and tradition that has been performed for centuries.

After the body arrives to the Ganges, it is dipped in the spiritual water 3 times before being cleansed by the seven natural elements and placed on the firewood. The closest family relative then leads the attendants through the whole process with the help of the brahmin. After certain rituals involving various herbs and spices, the funeral pyre which can be composed of up to 220kg of wood is set on fire to burn for nearly 3 hours. Once the time is up, ashes and bones are collected and spread into the Ganges. For the Hindus, Benares is a Holy City. People come to bathe in the spiritual water and await death as it is considered most holy place to cross. In fact, a cremation at Varanasi can cost a fortune. The act of cremating a body, unabashed displayed, is such a final act. I believe it is fitting in providing closure for the relatives of the recently deceased. In Varanasi, the finality of death is prominently displayed in comparison with other funerary rituals.

While the city brims with life as it has been for more than 3000 years, the smoke and the funeral processions reminds us of the ever presence of death. Rich or poor, young or old, you cannot run away and you cannot cheat death. Everyone returns to the Ganges one way or another.

I am fortunate to have met a cool group of people before arriving in Varanasi to explore the city together. The two French girls, Angeline and Brunilde, as well as Benjamin and I took both a sunrise and sunset boat ride. We also walked along the river and numerous ghats (which are steps leading down to a body of water used by locals to bathe, wash, perform religious/spiritual rituals) to experience the colourful life of Varanasi.

There are some distinct experiences and images from Varanasi I will always remember: pilgrims praying and bathing at the ghats, laundrymen beating sheets on the rocks, stiff legs and does burning in the dark night and that distinct odour from cremations, the smell of death.

==

After 2.5 days in Varanasi avoiding barking dogs (hopefully without rabies), cow manure in narrow windy alleys and getting lost in one of the oldest continually inhabited city in history, it was time for all of us to move on. The girls flew to Delhi where they will have one last night of partying before flying back to Europe. Benjamin is off to Darjeeling and Kolkota (Calcutta) before continuing to Sri Lanka and the rest of his round the world trip. As for me, it's time to head into Nepal. I'm taking the bus to Sunauli where I'll cross the border and catch another bus for Pokhara.

Namaste India, Namaste Nepal.

Written: January 27, 2009

Massive crowds of tourists, locals and foreigners alike, fanned out the Taj Mahal grounds. Many were trying to get as many photos of their subject (partner, spouse, family) with the Taj Mahal. Some were attempting to get pictures of them holding up the Taj with the palm of their hands. Something I promised I'd never do after the Pyramids of Egypt.

I had picked a holiday Monday to visit the New World Wonder and it was a big mistake. The queue to enter was long and paying the ridiculous overinflated foreigner price (by 10 times) was made even more bitter by the impossibly huge crowd overrunning the grounds. Not even the complementary bottle of water and shoe coverings made it any better.

I left Jaisalmer on Sunday afternoon by bus arriving in Jaipur at 5 am. I was a bit sad to leave since I really enjoyed my stay and Hotel Renuka. However, it was time to move on and so I was going to Agra via Jaipur. Once in Jaipur, I was told to go to the Sindhi Camp Bus stand to take a nice express bus to Agra. I thought I did just that, I went to the station, bought a ticket for Agra and got on the bus. I knew I had made a mistake since it was not the Volvo Express bus I had thought but a decrepit local bus. It took us 8 hours due to the heavy fog to get to Agra and countless stops in small towns, pick-ups along the street and yelling disagreements between the passengers and the fare collector. I have to say, riding in an Indian local bus with 3 metres of visibility is not a lot of fun. Especially when you realize the bus is on the wrong side of the road sometimes and honking like crazy to warn the oncoming traffic.

Finally, at around 1:30 pm I arrived in Agra and dropped off my big pack at Agra Cantt station before heading off to visit Agra Fort. I can't say too much about it except it has been modified by several rulers including the British who used it as barracks and prison. After the fort, I headed to the Taj with what I thought was ample time. However, closing hours were earlier in winter and due to the queue I only spent approximately 1 hour on the grounds. I wish I had more time since standing there and seeing its magnificent splendour and tribute to love is far different than seeing pictures of it.

I returned to Agra Cantt station to wait until my train at 11:30 pm. The wait was long but I had a delicious meal at the comensum composed of curried pancakes with 2 dips/sauces for 14 INRs! I also got to finish my book called "The White Tiger" by Aravind Adiga which is really popular in bookshops in India. It's an excellent book and gives insight into the real two India's; one that is prosperous and called the "Light", the other being the poor, uneducated and hopeless called the "Darkness".

There was some confusion about where my train, the Mathura Patna Express #3240,, was going to come in but after talking to the station master and seeing a few foreigner headed to Platform 5 I knew I was correct. I had some doubts at first since Platform 5 was badly lid, incredibly dirty (even for India) and it even had live rats crawling and running around while Platform 1 was moderately clean and full of people.

I was able to easily meet many other tourists since they were confused and taking this train as well. I first met Benjamin from Frankfurt, then Doug and Kate from Australia before meeting Angéline and Brunilde from France. Little did we know how long this train ride to Varanasi would truly be. The train, which was not quite listed on Cleartrip and required the specialty of an agent in Jaisalmer everyone called "Uncle" to help me book, arrived at Platform 3 about 20 minutes late. Since Kate and Doug rented Royal Enfields from Delhi and had them waiting on Platform 5 for transport, they had to quickly push it up the ramp, over to Platform 3-4 and down to the proper platform for storage/transportation.

I don't know when we took off from the station but by the time I woke up the update was that the train was delayed by 6 hours due to heavy fog. After passing Lucknow, the train was essentially left with foreign tourists on the way to Varanasi. For the next 6 hours, we talked, exchanged stories and took bets on the train would actually arrive in Varanasi. We pulled into Varanasi Junction at 6pm after sunset and the race was on to get out and get into a decent hotel. I met up with the French girls and Benjamin and we made for Shanti Guest House. Angéline told us they had a chauffeur and I was welcome to join. I expected a car/taxi but it was actually an auto-rickshaw and so the 4 of us had to amazingly fit into the rickshaw with our backpacks as well! I of course got the honour to ride in the front which meant trying not to fall out during every crazy turn and in the stupendous traffic of Varanasi. In more than a dozen instance, I was sure we were going to hit or knock over someone. It's a miracle there was no collisions. We were not dropped off very close to the hotel, which is not accessible by rickshaw. So we walked for nearly 15 minutes through small alleys with the help of a guide (20Rs) before finally reaching our destination. I can't say much about the 70Rs room and I was definitely not found of the uneven bed but what can you expect from a room that costs less than $2? The important thing was that I arrived in Varanasi and I'm that much closer to going into Nepal.

===

Well that's all for now, I've got an early morning boat ride to see sunrise and the ghats!

Written: January 24, 2009

I'm not riding a camel for a long time. After a 2 day camel safari, I believe my chances of having children has just gone down significantly.

Jaisalmer, what a place. It's hard to pinpoint exactly why I like this desert city so much. The town is known for it's beautifully detailed havelis (old homes), the ornate temples and structures within the living fort and camel safaris. Jaisalmer did not disappoint me on all three counts and I've quite enjoyed the city and its people.

I arrived from Jodhpur at 4:45 am. Amazingly enough, we had left 20 minutes late from the Jodhpur Terminus and arrived 20 minutes early into Jaisalmer. When the lights came up, I checked my watch and figured we were early and could not believe we arrived into Jaisalmer. However, upon looking at the station sign outside I realized we had indeed arrived early which is a miracle for Indian rail. Arriving at such an early hour also meant that touts would be waiting and these were usually from the sleaziest and most desperate hotels. I reluctantly took a ride from one which promised 100 Rs, double bed room within the fort. Of course, this was a lie, it was located well outside the fort and nearly 2 km from the walls. I walked out and hailed a rickshaw, haggled and got a ride to Hotel Rennuka. Since all the beds were taken until 7:30 am when some people would go off on safari, I slept on the roof for 3 glorious hours and watched the stars under the clear night skies. I missed that experience and it reminded me of being huddled close to the fire and watching the even more brilliant night sky in Ngorongoro.

The first day I spent walking around getting a feel of the city. I quickly learned to look out for cows and the many mounds of cow crap left behind. I enjoyed the sandy coloured buildings and finally carved decorations of the havelis. The fort area was also really nice although much of it was oriented for tourism rather than everyday life. Of course, with tourism being such a big part of the local economy, he usual enticements and tricks could be seen. Walking down the main street, many shopkeepers try to sell you books, water, toilet paper, clothes, camel leather goods, etc. Hotel runners, safari operators, money changers all asking you to come in.

In the 2-3 days in town walking around, I can usually hear phrases such as:
"My friend, water, juice, toilet paper, gum?"
"Korea? Japan? China? ..."
"Hello handsome!"
"Internet? Camel safari?"

After a while, all those advertisements fade into the background.

On the second day, I managed to get a well needed haircut and refreshing shave for 30 Rs ($0.75). I also finally found a DC 5V charger for my media player. I must've visited over 20 shops in Mumbai, Jodhpur and Jaisalmer and finally found one that has the proper connector. I then met-up with Josh, an old University friend of mine, and we booked a camel safari with Hotel Renuka. He went for the 2.5 day safari while I went for 1.5 day. It's funny how small the world, we didn't even know each other was travelling in India until I saw his Facebook status which indicated he was in Jaipur while I was in Jodhpur. I messaged him to see if he was headed to Jaisalmer like I was and 2 days later we're having a beer on a rooftop overlooking the fort and going on a camel safari together.

The night before we left, I met up with Josh and a new friend named Menko. We had dinner and discussions together along with a hotel host. Since there was a blackout, I had to borrow a light in order to get back to my hotel at the other end of the city. However, thanks to Menko's initiative to ask and the host's generosity, I got a ride back to my hotel. What was even better was that he asked if I knew how to ride a motorcycle, I said yes and he shiftefd back and told me drive! I rode a 150cc Honda Hero motorcycle for about 10 minutes to get back. This was also the first time I rode 2-up (i.e. with a passenger) but it didn't matter much since we never went very fast and the bike had a small displacement. However, it did give me confidence to take on one of the many women who've requested a ride with me when I get back in Canada. I am extremely thankful for the generosity of the hotel host since walking back during the blackout late at night may not be the safest idea.

On my third day in Jaisalmer, Josh and I took off for our camel safari. We visited the Jaisalmer Royal Cenotaph and then drove 45 minutes to meet the camels and guides. I called mine Chamomile and spoke to her before I got on. Each of us then got on our camels and off we went for 1 hour before stopping at the site of ruins and another hour before stopping for lunch. By that point, we could all feel the full effects of camel riding on our body. The bruising and chafing on the inner thighs, the awkward stretching of the pelvis. The pain was amplified if the camel was going downhill. By the end of the day after reaching the sand dunes, we had done f hours of riding and we were all glad for the break! Quite a few of us were glad we had opted for 1.5 day and not much longer. We arrived at the sand dunes and our camp at 4:45 pm. We spent about 1.5 hours taking it in, enjoying the views and getting some pictures of the dunes and sunset. After dinner, we talked about literature, exchanged ideas and travel stories. Russ and I actually stayed up late while everyone had gone to bed to exchange our travel experiences.

Two of the funniest stories I heard from Russ, a musician from L.A. who was travelling India and Europe for a year, were:

1. A traveller asked a local Indian man where was the nearest toilet. The local stretched out his arm and moved it around to indicate the land and said, "In India, the toilet is everywhere."

2. A tourist sees an Indian man peeing on the side of the street and asks him, "Hey, isn't the police going to hold you for this?" The Indian man responds, "No, you have to hold it yourself."

We slept in the open but could only see the stars every now and then when the clouds cleared. After another 2 hours of camel riding in the morning, we took a jeep ride and returned to Jaisalmer to wash up and rest. Tomorrow I take off for Agra via Jaipur and then Varanasi. I have been having a hard time finding train tickets between Agra and Varanasi though but hopefully something will be worked out soon!

That's all for now, Namaste!