Delhicious

Well, after Bhopal, Delhi was pretty sweet. I don’t have any strong opinions either way about the city’s character though; it just feels kind of…faceless…to me. It doesn’t have a strong “flavour” like Mumbai, or Chennai. But perhaps I didn’t stay long enough. Perhaps Delhi takes more time to sink in. I spent a lot of time relaxing, eating amazing street food in Old Delhi with my host, Ravi, walking around some of the sights, and briefly meeting up with my piercing sister, Ali, again. I even met one couchsurfer who might have been able to get me a Bollywood gig, had I stuck around longer :P 

 

I was in a hurry to leave though, and although there was so much left to see in Delhi (and I could have spent more time with Ali, or maybe even landed that Bollywood gig!), the North keeps calling :). I like monuments and history and food, don’t get me wrong, but it is impossible to see and do everything. With approximately one month and a half left in India, if I ask myself what I want most, the answer is…not so clear…but mountains are one of those things that’s pretty high up there on my list.

***

While I was in Delhi, I remember having a pretty cool speculative conversation with one of Ravi's flatmates, who was also somewhat of dreamer struck with wanderlust. We deliberated about an alternative universe where nomadic lifestyles are conventional while settling down is taboo. The majority of the world would be constantly moving, people would not stick around in one place for too long, enduring structures would not be built. And occasionally, a revolutionary, a rebel, would decide to stick out of society. One night, he would show his best friend a drawing he'd made - a marble palace perhaps, or a skyscraper, or something reminescent of the Eiffel tower, even - and he would quietly whisper "I'm going to build this". His friend would look at him, incredulous. "But...how? Your father will kill you if you miss the next migration". "I've already found the perfect piece of land. Anna will come with me. We can live there happily for years. We can grow our own food. Here, I'll show you..."

Photos: Delhi

Absurdity

The heat in Mumbai was becoming overbearing so I decided to pack a day bag and head to some “hill stations” for a couple of days. A few places were recommended to me by Martin, so we decided to meet up again for a short 3-day trip since he was close by in Pune at that time also.

So hop on a train and meet half-way in Lonavle. The train experience was rather fun. I started my day quite late due to being locked out by my sleeping hosts... Finally made it to the station, the (delayed) train arrived and I hopped on – my first time going on general admission rather than sleeper. I was in the ladies car, which is the last one, and it smelled of fish (apparently because there were fish in the stock room behind it). The women went mad; pushing and shoving galore. There was no way I’d get a seat. I wasn’t in a fighting mood, so I went to sit in the tiny space by the open door, where 2 other women were already settled with their bags. At subsequent stations, the ladies car got ladier. Eventually, we were something like 10 women cramped just in that tiny cubicle between the doors. With bags and all. Early on, a lady who spoke some English sat next to me and I asked her where to get off for Lonavle. She was headed to Pune and invited me over to her place as well. We spent the whole ride chatting about different things, especially South Indian food and how to prepare it. Yum. She became protective of me and was shouting at the other women to let me sit, and then made sure I got off at my station.

***

Turns out Lonavle is famous for chikki, so there’s literally hundreds of chikki shops one next to the other selling the exact same products. It is addictively delicious. Martin “unfortunately” dislikes nuts, so it was all for me. The shops did have tons of other sweets however. A good business option in Lonavle is to open up a dental clinic.

After finding accommodation and walking around town a bit, it was too late to do much else so we headed back to the hotel and planned to see some caves and waterfalls and shit the next day. 

Initially, we were going to spend only one night in Lonavle, and head to Matheran the following day after seeing the sights around Lonavle. But we overslept past the checkout time and decided it wasn’t worth rushing, so we would stay one more night. 

Neither of us knew much about Lonavle or how to get to the interesting places around it. We walked around asking for a map, or if there were buses going to Karla caves, or if it was possible to rent bikes or a scooter. Finding information was difficult, and it was already afternoon. Some rickshaw drivers tried to bargain to take us there, but we were up for an adventure, cheap-o style. So I said “let’s hitchhike!”. We knew that Karla caves were about 8 km away from Lonavle, so at worst we would walk there, and hope that someone would pick us up along the way. Martin had already hitchhiked once with his host in Pune, so it was worth a try.

As we neared the highway and were at a decent distance to avoid rickshaw drivers spotting us and coming to harass us, I stuck out my hand and hoped for the best. It brought back so many memories! I couldn’t help laughing and enjoying trying this out in India. Not even two minutes later, a truck stopped for us. We asked for Karla, the driver nodded (or rather wobbled ;)), and we hopped on. Hurray! We passed a toll where some questioning occurred but all was in order, and the driver dropped us at the junction for the caves. It was awkward because I didn’t know if he would expect money or how it worked here. We jumped off, he smiled at us, we closed the door and walked away. Ta da!

It was still a 3 km walk to the caves, in the heat. But I didn’t mind. I was beaming. Hitchhiking was something I really wanted to try in India, but I couldn’t do it alone, and I hadn’t met other people I wanted to travel with and who also were up for hitchhiking. I was already dreaming big, of hitching long distance, to nowhere and beyond :)

The caves weren’t a big deal; a small (overpriced) Buddhist cave temple area, where there wasn’t much potential to explore. The only other caves I had to compare with were Kanheri caves. And I hadn’t even seen Ellora or Ajanta, although Martin did (and everyone keeps pestering me about how wonderful they are and how much I should go -__-). But the whole experience was lovely; good company & conversation, unknown villages with no foreign tourists, even a curious goat…

After the caves, we walked back to the highway and still hadn’t decided what to do for sunset. It was a toss between going to Sunset Point (I guess it’s a good place for it, I mean why else would they call it that :P), and going to Toni Daa Dhaba’s to see the “Live ostrich on display”. “You can see the sunset anywhere, but when else will you get to hitchhike to see an ostrich in India?!”, I pleaded with Martin. So we literally tossed a coin, and the ostrich won. We had no clue if this dhaba was close to any landmark, so we just hoped that whoever picked us up would know where it is, or that we would spot it off the road.

We escaped the hordes of rickshaws near the highway junction from the caves, and soon saw a truck stopped ahead of us. We weren’t sure if it had stopped for us so we went up to the window and asked for Toni Daa Dhaba, in the direction of Pune. The driver and his companion gave a positive sign and we hopped in. On the ride we had gotten to the caves, there was only a driver, but generally there are two people in the trucks.

 

There was a little bit of talking in broken English and Hindi, but from what I gathered, the driver knew of Toni Daa Dhaba and was trying to warn us that the food there is horrible; he wanted to drive us to a nearby town for better food :P. We soon passed the sign for the dhaba and the driver continued, so we told him to stop, because we were keen for Toni Daa Dhaba. He seemed surprised, and maybe slightly disappointed, with an air seeming to say “Ok, but don’t blame me if you don’t like the place”. He stopped, and again we got off, waved goodbye, closed the door and walked off.

I was so excited to see if there really was a live ostrich! As we got on the grounds, we saw an enclosure full of emus and other big birds. Well, that’s a disappointment. Emus are cool and all, but that’s false advertisement right there. But then Martin pointed to an area behind the restaurant, and we saw two small heads perched on long necks and giant bodies staring at us. Effin ostriches! Ha ha ha! I couldn’t believe it.

Hey cheeky, want some chikki?

As we later found out, you could actually have emu meat there; you could literally go with the cook and point and say “This one”. We didn’t know this at the time, and the place was pretty expensive so we just got some drinks and set off again.

By this time it was getting dark, but thankfully we quickly managed to get a ride back. But wait. There was one more stop along the way. Martin insisted on visiting the wax museum. Yup, that’s right. So we asked the driver to drop us off there, and they asked us for some cash and chai. Hmm. It was mildly awkward, but eventually they left after chai, and we had a look inside the (expensive) museum. It was quite fun, and I do believe it was my first wax museum visit ever :P 

So there you have it. Hitchhiking in India; milega :)

India Stockholm Syndrome

So after two bloody months, I finally feel less lost. I actually want to travel now. I've been feeling fearless and happy to live all things with complete abandon, to let go and be brave, with people and the world. And the world smiled back. I’m feeling Indian. I look for crazy opportunities. I get high on it. I feel back on track. Took a while… And now I have less than two months left and I’m trying to squeeze in as much as I still can! 

The stages I’ve been going through reminded me somewhat of the chapters from Into the Wild. Except at first I had apprehension, and no desire to travel. Then after too long, I’m finally waking up with a fearless, ravenous desire for adventure and life. This is probably post-Hampi side-effects.

I’ve even become a somewhat self-righteous traveller; impatient and assertive and critical when people try to do me wrong. After some reflection though, I decided it is more like pseudo self-confidence rather than the real thing. In some more lucid moments, I am even able to glimpse the progress I still need in the future; learn patience, acceptance, compassion, humility, control. Stop comparing and competing with everyone I meet. My usual vices, which will likely take years to overcome. Bring it on :)

***

After a “tame” week in Goa with amazing people, relaxing and partying (and being incredibly sick), I impulsively decided to hop on a train to Mumbai, not knowing anything about the city or anyone there. I didn’t have internet so I texted a few people and managed to find a CSer, Sumit, to stay with. Yay for connections and awesome friends!

Some local women helped me get to Sumit’s station. Mumbai was actually the first place I got to bond with local women I met randomly, in great part due to the women-only cars on the local trains. The women debated amongst themselves about which station I should transfer at and passed me around to another girl finally. The girl turned out to be from Pondicherry and she was so delighted when I started using some Tamil words and told her of my amazing time in her city and state. 

The next couple of days were spent exploring around the city on my own. Surprisingly, it was the first time I found myself doing that, so I spent a lot of time with my thoughts, occasionaly striking up conversations with the locals. Mumbai is incredible. I love this city. The people are so kind and helpful. It’s vibrant and full of history (ok, any other generic statements I could throw in there? :P). Highlights: Kanheri caves at Sanjay Gandhi National Park, pretending to be Sumit’s niece during a work dinner, hitchhiking in a red 60’sTriumph, St-Patrick’s – Indian style.

Photos: Mumbai

Metamorphosis

A few things happened that shook things up. Hampi is the place. Yup, I felt too lazy to not use “things” twice in that first sentence. 

So that girl I met on the train was also travelling alone and getting high on life, but after we reached Hampi she kind of dismissed me and went off in her high bubble. One-time use traveller. But hey, to each his own. I’m not used to meeting and throwing people away, but sometimes I guess I do it too and there’s no choice. Though I usually prefer to bond to a certain degree with people I meet and to share a more meaningful time with them.

Without saying much about seeing each other later, she set off on her own to find her guest house, and left me to wander in the paddy fields to find Manju’s place, which had been recommended by a few people. As I tried to walk over the narrow dry paths in the submerged fields, I fell in the mud a few times with my bags, and there were other hippie travellers around but no one helped me, looked at me, or said a word. I was getting a pretty horrible first impression – a place where superficial people come to do…who knows what. 

Soon I got settled in a hut, and set about pacing in the tiny space, trying to decide what to do first. Not used to being alone again. I texted a few people who were supposed to be in Hampi around the same time. I ended up meeting up with Martin again – whom I first met in Mysore – as well as Bruno and Yusti, who I knew before I left for India. The four of us had a damn goat time there :) I’ll try to condense the week I spent there as best I can.

Ahhh, Hampi truly is quite special for many reasons. The surreal landscape is dotted with old temples springing up among the otherwordly boulders, making you feel like you’re walking on some movie set. You can easily find a secluded ruin and sit there all day. But not only that, the atmosphere in Hampi is awesome; very hippie and laid back. The thing to do is get high and eat and chill, after a long day of visiting the sights. Especially on the other side of the river, aka the cool side.

The first day, I walked around the ruins with Martin, enjoying geeky conversations, and having lunch at the highly recommended Mango Tree. We then met up with the other two but soon had to rush back to catch the "ferry" to the cool side of the river (last crossing at 6pm unfortunately). The four of us decided to meet early the following morning, rent some bikes and go exploring.

The fun didn't end for Martin and I once we were back on our side. We caught the sunset on a picturesque rocky hill, and I must say it was one of the best sunsets I had seen in years. The other people on the rocks even clapped afterwards (nod to Wreck Beach sunsets in Vancouver :)). Martin even made some canine friends. I decided I have got to camp on this hill one night before I leave.

After a candlelit dinner (gotta love power outages), I indulged in what became one of my favourite desserts there; Hello to the Queen. With a name like that, you know it's going to be wow-tastic. Crushed graham crackers, bananas, chocolate sauce, ice cream, coconut... all in a giant bowl. We then meandered over to the Tipi for more drinks, which was also recommended by another traveller. Turned out to be just that; a giant tipi where you could sleep, and they also followed the same formula as all the other guest houses; eating space with cushions on the floor, books, chilled out atmosphere.

The following day, we met up with a cool guy from Bangalore who had a map so the 5 of us spent the day riding together and seeing the sights. It was rather lovely, except for some flat tires and punctured tubes. Highlights were probably goat love at the river and Hanuman temple. We wound up making a rather long tour and ended up on the cool side of the river, so the other three went back to the uncool side while Martin and I spent another chilltastic evening at Shiva's restaurant. 

The next day, we actually all moved in at Gopi's, where Martin was staying. We eventually walked over to a lake a few kilometers away, after stocking up on watermelon and another traveller. At the lake, there were too many bloody Indian men staring at us swminning in an unbearably annoying way, even for India. You get used to it, but sometimes it's just...too much. Yusti and Bruno got a ride in what looked like a giant coconut shell boat, we ate watermelon with the locals, and eventually walked back. Along the way, we stopped at a place Martin knew, where we were told we should try the "special" lassi. Mmmmk. Sounds like fun :P We shared 2 among the 4 of us, then hurried back to Hampi to catch a screening of Into the Wild at one of the restaurants. I didn't feel anything on the way, and thought we had been ripped off.

But here's how things went down. We got to the place a few minutes into the film, sat down, ordered food, then...BHANG! :P I don't remember the last time I was that high. I wouldn’t have understood the movie if it was the first time I saw it; Bruno didn’t :P The combination of the film and the bhang unlocked something in my brain though. Can’t quite describe it, but it was like learning the art of surrender, shedding of fear, the beginnings of thirst for adventure. The ending of the film almost sent me into a panic attack though, but I was able to control it through some considerable effort because I expected it. 

We all checked in with each other, and well, it hit us all pretty hard. We all were gooooone. Twitching. Talking nonsense. Karma pyramid scheme. Somehow managed to get back to Gopi’s. Spent some time listening to music with Martin and laughing at how high we were, then fell asleep. 

Next day; major recovery necessary. But I felt a lightness of being I hadn't experienced in a long time. I danced while I walked, I felt so alive. Bhang and cuddles was just what I needed. Anxiety: 0, Fear: 0.

We decided to repeat the experience that night, but first heading to the hill for the sunset. Another feast for the eyes. This time the air itself was pink. Then we went to search for a place serving bhang lassis closer to Gopi's, and split a much smaller quantity this time. After some time, we were gone again. Tasted another amazing dessert; bonoffe pie. This must have been around the time when the goat jokes started. Bruno and Martin were on a roll. I don't know how many minutes we listened to "Pete and Repeat are on a boat. Pete falls off. Who's left? Repeat. Pete and Repeat are on a boat..." We again eventually somehow stumbled back to Gopi's, but realised on the way that we had never paid for the lassi, ha ha! It was impossible to think. The place's owners were probably pretty high as well.

Another sunrise. Another day of recovery. I really was craving going into the wild as this was my last day in Hampi, so Martin and I planned to camp out on the hill under the stars for that night, while Bruno & Yusti had to catch a train that day. So we got some food and supplies and set off to find the perfect camp spot, after dinner & sunset of course. We found a fairly secluded nook among the surreal landscape of rocks and then gathered wood to make a fire (which wasn't too difficult as everything was incredibly dried up), listened to music, ate watermelon, talked, watched the moonset... 

I set my alarm to watch the sunrise and practice some meditation. Dawn on the hill was pretty impressive as well. I then had to hurry back down to pack so that I could meet with a couchsurfer in Hospet before heading to Goa.

There was some confusion about the meeting time though, and while we waited, Martin and I got to see another temple and meet Lakshmi the elephant. First time I touched an elephant! :D Their skin is so...mesmerizing. We then finally met up with my host and he showed us around some of the main Hampi attractions that we somehow had managed to miss previously. 

Goodbyes ensued... I wasn't sure what Goa would have in store, but the Hampi craziness was the first in a series of events that opened my eyes and moved something in dark corners, even if only slightly and temporarily. It's something I will always be thankful for.

Photos: Hampi

Velcro Hearts

Well the title I initially had in mind for this post was Sex, Drugs, & Bangalore. But that was uncannily (in)appropriate. Ahem.

So anyways, wow, what a journey. As I’m writing this, I’m on a night train from Bangalore to Hampi, back on the road all on my lonesome after about 2 weeks with the same group of incredible people in Mysore and Bangalore. Not the initial intention, as usual. It shouldn’t come as a surprise anymore, and in fact I should just stop mentioning it seeing as how everything is unplanned :-P As a fellow cool traveller, Meredith, would say: “If the plans don’t drop you, drop the plans”.

The people I met during this time have rocked my socks, all six pairs of them. Another family away from home. And they’ve inspired me so much as well; a bold woman who has been travelling for three years and has sailed across most of the globe, an artist, motorcycle rider, hippie yoga chick turned confidante to an insecure me, a kind-hearted sister and nose-piercing companion (yes, I went there, more on that later), lots of good-looking, incredibly intelligent veterinarians (eheh), an incredibly supportive, open, loving, and close friend with the most generous heart and amazing soul, and everyone in between. All family :-). This was one of the most difficult departures so far. 

Sometimes I wonder if I, and other travellers, get a kick out of this goodbye torture. I used to think that I leave because I am afraid of becoming attached, because I’m running away, but now I have an alternate theory. My suspicion is that if you know you are there only in passing, you don’t waste time; you very often skip the small talk and almost immediately bond with the people you get that initial connecting vibe with. You make it meaningful, true, emotional, loving. Concretely feeling how limited your time together is, you strive to enjoy every single moment you have together. Short, concentrated, and real. And sometimes too intense. The CouchSurfing world is often full of such encounters. I think what’s addicting is not meeting and leaving, but the fierceness with which you get to connect with people in such a short amount of time. It’s something you very rarely experience in daily life staying in one place. I know people whom I’ve seen every day for years back home, and we never got past the acquaintance level, even though we potentially could have been very close friends. And when I travel, I sometimes feel like every person I meet is a soul mate. There is less fear to approach, less holding back. And sometimes you need a break from this intensity too… Velcro heart syndrome is a chronic travelling condition, with self-initiated remission periods.

So, yeah, back to the cities. Mysore was beautiful and regal – fitting for a palace city – and more laid-back than Bangalore. One of my personal achievements while there would probably have to be getting to go to a South Indian wedding and pooing in an Indian-style toilet while wearing a sari. No photos of that though, fortunately.

Blore – as the locals call it when texting :P – is loud, polluted, modern, cosmopolitan. It’s not a place to see so much as to experience. I can understand why most travellers do not enjoy visiting this city. I would have hated it were it not for the people. What did I do? Mostly party almost every night, be hungover, party again, visit a restricted access army riding school (hurray for local connections :P), party some more, take naps, hug people, get a nose ring (simultaneously with Ali, my piercing sister – whenever my nose aches, I will think of her ;-)), shop (my bag gained some serious kgs with all the beautiful kurtis), visit one of the city’s lovely parks and rediscover science, dance, hug more people, party some more, listen to vets talk about their passion, visit to the hospital (I had been feeling dizzy, irritable, and had trouble breathing – apparently I’m allergic to Bangalore), more dancing, more hugging.

So all in all a positive experience. A lot of self-analyzing, thinking, processing, and breaking down also happened, most likely because I felt safe and had support from the people around. Not a bad thing :) I feel more lost than ever, still incredibly insecure and afraid of so many things, unsure of what I want and who I am. But I’m thinking more and more that these aren’t the kinds of problems that will be resolved by working on them directly. I need to learn to relax and enjoy the moments as they come. Everything else will fall into place as it needs to.

Now back to the train, my first sleeper train experience! I’m on the upper berth, and even before boarding I noticed a lovely girl settled in the berth below mine. It didn’t take long for us to start talking about the things that matter :P, eventually fading into silence as people fell asleep around us, and watching the darkness and stars go by. Excuse me while I join the others in Morpheus’ arms, a train-shaped, soothingly rocking Morpheus…

Photos: Mysore & Bangalore