Jaisalmer

Posted on March 28, 2013 by hilarylust

Driving towards the bustling city of Jaisalmer was like driving into a desert fairy tale. I felt like I was in the movie Aladdin and we were emerging from the desert into the chaos of street vendors and palaces. (Yes, Disney movies obviously had a significant impact on my life. In Africa I continuously thought I was in The Lion King, and in India I can’t stop humming every Aladdin song I can remember).
The city is huge. It stretches its way across the desert in urban sprawl. The real spectacle, however, is the fort.
The Jaisalmer fort sits high above the city, looming over the expanse of buildings below. It is a fortified and imposing looking sandstone structure that is surprisingly beautiful. The Jaisalmer fort is also one of the few living forts that still exists. Three thousand people live within its walls. The narrow windy passages are filled with guesthouses and shop fronts that cater to tourist and local needs. At night, the fort is lit up from below, creating a magical spectacle for the rest of the city to admire. It is simply stunning.
It was a long drive from Bikaner to Jaisalmer. We were quietly reading and staring out at the world for most of the way, until Raju decided he was going to open up and make friends with us.
“You student, or working?” He asked. “How many peoples in your family?” it was nice that he was trying to get to know us. We would be with him for two full weeks after all. We told him that we both worked in bars back home and that is how we had met in Canada.
“Oh! Bars, lots of drinks: beers, whiskey.”
“Yup” we agreed. Then, I remembered that I was supposed to keep my eyes open for a whiskey called Amrut Fusion. It had apparently won lots of awards here in India.
“I hear you guys have excellent whiskeys here in India” I said to Raju.
“Oh yes, you like whiskey?”
“Ya.” We said half heartedly. I enjoy a whiskey every now and then, but I’m definitely not a connoisseur and it’s definitely not my drink of choice. But we were polite and nodded and smiled at each whiskey Raju rattled on about after that. And before we knew it, we had arrived at the city.
After an afternoons rest, playing xhonu by the pool and sipping on banana milkshakes, we began our short city tour.
We started out at the Tilon-ki-Pol gateway down by the lake. The lake was beautiful. It had a couple little islands with temples on them, and an area to boat around. The lake used to be used as a watering tank once upon a time. The story goes, that a famous prostitute had offered to pay to build a gateway around the water. The maharawal refused, saying that it would be unfit for him to pass under a gate built by a courtesan. However, while he was away from the city, she built the gate anyways, then she had a temple to Krishna erected on top of it so the king could not tear it down. The gateway is stunning!
When we’d finished at the lake, we drove to the outskirts of the city for sunset. Just outside the hustle and bustle of Jaisalmer are a number of beautifully carved sandstone cenotaphs. We were dropped off at the gate, not knowing what was going on or where we were.
“Just go in and watch sunset” said Raju, “inside, lots of peoples maybe says ‘buy this, and buy that’ but you say ‘NO!’ And keep walking. You know Hindi word for ‘go’? It Chello! So when people say maybe ‘you need this guide?’ Or maybe ‘you buy post card’ you say ‘Chello!'” We laughed, it was very nice of him to look out for us like we were first time travelers, even though we were fully capable of fending ourselves from a couple of vendors. And I guess it’s always nice to learn a little Hindi while we’re here.
So we thanked Raju and walked off towards the cenotaphs.
They were gorgeous in the setting sun. Beautiful carved pillars in a light sandstone colour with the city as a backdrop. The Jaisalmer fort was all lit up and sparkling in the background as the sun gleamed across the front of it. The whole thing was incredible.
So we found a quiet place to sit while the tourists came flowing in by the bus loads to watch the sun set. We were there for over an hour waiting for the sun to go down.
“Do you think it’s weird we were dropped off an hour and a half early for sunset shots?” Kelsi asked.
“Yup, a little” but we sat there anyways.
The one downfall I have realized about India is how much smog there is in the country. I guess, with a population of 1.6 billion, there has got to be some pollution in the air. But this is crazy. I have never seen a country that, even in the middle of a desert, with no city around, the horizon is nearly impossible to see because of the smog. It’s everywhere! Sitting at the cenotaphs, watching the sun set, was our first real experience of this. The sun, instead of setting behind the horizon, fell behind a layer of smog and disappeared, long before reaching the earth. It was disappointing after waiting for so long. We had just come from Africa, where there are the most spectacular sunsets each and every night. India’s setting sun was a little depressing. I’m hoping this is not a country wide trend.
When the sun had fallen behind the smog, we beat the crowds and found Raju back at the car. Home time!
Back to the hotel for a lovely rooftop dinner with some local musicians and a stunning view of the Jasailmer Fort. What an incredible city!

The Rat Temple

Posted on March 23, 2013 by hilarylust

Legend has it that when Karni Mata’s son drowned she was devastated. In desperation, she went to the death god, Yama, and begged him to resurrect her lost child. Yama refused her pleas for help. So in turn, Karni Mata vowed that, when she died, she would be reincarnated as a rat. She promised that when her entire family died, they too would be reincarnated as rats, for generation after generation after generation. And they did…
About 40km outside Bikaner, in a small village called Deshnok, lies the Karni Mata temple. It’s more colloquial name is “The Rat Temple”. This is where hundred of people come to pray to Karni Mata and her family in their resurrected form. That’s right, thousands upon thousands of rats infest this small temple, and the people of Deshnok are fully devoted to it. They come to the temple to pray, and see, and eat with the rats that live there. It is absolutely insane.
I first heard about the Rat Temple a few months ago when our TV offered us a free monthly subscription to the Oasis channel. One of the only 12 or so shows I’ve ever seen on that channel is called “Wildest India”.
“Hey, I’m going to India” I thought. “Let’s check it out”. The show explained about the unusual traditions of the Deshnok village and their love for the rats of Karni Mata. What the hell, sign me up, this shit is crazy!
When I found out that we would be traveling near Deshnok I was beside myself. “Rat temple? Let’s do this!” And before I knew it, Kelsi and I were standing barefoot outside the small temple in this tiny village in the middle of nowhere.
I braced myself for disappointment. It’s never as cool as it looks on TV, I thought to myself. But I was wrong… It was SO much better.
We stepped over the threshold of the temple and passed our very first rat, right in the doorway.
“Oh my god, there’s one!” We exclaimed in excitement. I almost took a photo, then thought I might see a few more later on and continued walking.
We first entered a large courtyard. There was a mesh covering over the place that tried to keep the pigeons out. Instead, they just sat on the mesh, and filled the courtyard with crap. Between the pigeon shit and the rat food, the marble floors were a mess. The food and pellets stuck to the bottoms of our bare feet as we walked across the courtyard and into the main temple.
Along the walls of the temple, both inside and out, were groups of rats. Not just two or three, but large groups of rats, all crawling over each other, fighting, biting and scratching their way into holes in the walls.
The people that worship the temple of Karni Mata hold the rats in very high esteem. If a rat runs over your feet while you are walking through the temple, it is considered good luck. If you share water with the rats it means good health, and if you eat food with the rats, it is one of the highest honours. Oh my god, are you kidding me?!
Rats don’t scare me. Even a large group of rats don’t scare me. But I was surprised by myself, as I walked through the throngs of tiny, crawling creatures, at how much I did NOT want one running over my feet!
As a kid, my friends had pet rats. They didn’t bother me. Maybe I was expecting these rats to look the same. I was sorely disappointed. These rats were mangled. They had tumors and growths coming out of all sides of their bodies. I saw one that was missing half it’s face. Kelsi and I stumbled upon a group of rats all huddled in a corner, and when we came closer to see what was happening, we saw that the rats were eating away at the rotting corpse of an already dead rat. This place is beyond ridiculous. I was disgusted by it, and yet I loved it!
The rats were everywhere, creeping in corners, climbing railings to hang out at eye level, or sitting on hand railings. Nowhere was safe. We walked into one room that had an alter (covered in rats of course) that was set in a large square pillar in the middle of the room. We watched the locals praying to the idol, then walking along the small passage that went around the pillar. At first I wasn’t sure what it was all about, then it clicked.
The small passage that went around the edge of the room had small rat holes every few inches along the floor. The people prayed to the gods, then walked through the narrow passageway in hopes that a rat would run over them and bless them with good luck. Well, when in Rome!
I followed Kelsi through the passageway in fearful anticipation. Oh my god, do I really want a rat to crawl on me in the dark?! I may have squealed as I saw the shadows of rats running back and forth across the passageway in front of me. I was scared to take a step forward in the off chance that I was the one stepping on a rat, instead of the other way around.
In the end, we both made it out untouched. I don’t care what they say, I consider myself lucky!
If this wasn’t unusual enough, there were more ways than one to be blessed with luck at the temple. All of the rats that can be seen at the Karni Mata temple are black. Thousands of rats, all of them black… Except for 5.
There are 5 pure white rats in Karni Mata. If you are lucky enough to see one on your visit, that is something very special. Good luck and longevity to you and your family!
One man stopped to talk to us when he had finished praying, probably laughing at two white girls light-footedly creeping around all the rats as we walked.
“You should check over there where that crowd of people is standing,” he said “you might get the chance to see a white rat.”
We took his advice and moved over the the small group of people huddled around a gate. Rats scuffled around on the ground by our feet and covered the gate, all the way up to the top. We looked down into a pit a few steps below. Rats swarmed the area. They drank milk out of bowls that had been laid out, crawled along stairways and skittered their way between iron scaffoldings. We looked for a few minutes, but couldn’t see any white rat. Eventually, people began to wander away.
One man offered us some rat food to throw out into the pit.
“Please, please, feed the rats with me” he gestured and handed us huge handfuls of food to throw around as we pleased. Just as we had finished, we looked up and saw a white rat.
“Look! There it is! A white rat!” We shouted.
The mood changed. People were in a frenzy. They shouted at each other in Hindi and rushed back to the gate we had stood at before. An old lady literally pushed me aside with her elbows in an attempt to see the elusive white rat! Men and women held up their children so they could see it too!
This is crazy. Is this really happening? I’m standing in the middle of a pigeon shit covered temple that is infested with thousands of rats. An old lady just bruised me in the ribs in an attempt to see a mangled, and probably disease ridden, white rodent, so that her life and her family’s life will have good fortune. Why did I enjoy this so much?!
All faiths are crazy when you look at them in a literal sense. The fact that these people wholeheartedly believe that these rats are resurrected royalty is beyond me, but I love their enthusiastic fervor! The Karni Mata temple is probably one of the strangest things I’ve witnessed in my 26 years, but I had an incredible time.
Kelsi and I probably spent close to an hour in that little temple. The whole time in awestruck wonder (or maybe it was horror). That’s 4 times longer than we spent in the massive, and beautifully decorated Jungarh Fort back in Bikaner… Man, we really need to get our priorities in order!
Nonetheless, at the end of the day I had something incredible to check off the bucket list, and a story I’ll never forget!

Bikaner

Posted on March 23, 2013 by hilarylust

Bikaner was our next destination. Slightly larger than the quiet streets of Mandawa, Bikaner hosts many bustling, four lane streets and crazed markets. It also is home to Jungarh Fort, which was home to many royals of the past.
Our first mission was food. We were hungry and needed some lunch. Even by day two, Kelsi and I were tired of being carted around to various tourist driven restaurants. I didn’t come to India to sit safely in a plush restaurant with a bunch of whiteys and eat food that caters to European tastes. I want to sit in a dingy hole in the wall, with a bunch of locals and have a menu that is entirely in Hindi. I want to pay dirt cheap prices, have to sit on an overturned pail as a chair, and eat food that is both killer spicy and will probably give me food poisoning for a week. Yes. To many people that sounds insane, but that’s the kind of India I want to experience.
“Are there any local restaurants in the area that serve great Indian food?” We asked the man at the front desk.
“Yes, we have a wonderful restaurant here at the hotel”
Ya… And at 10 times the price we can get anywhere else. But trying not to offend, we said we wanted to have dinner at the hotel but try a new place for lunch.
“Okay!” He said, “try the hotel next door. It very nice”
*sigh* we were too hungry to explain any further. We walked out the gates and realized there was nothing around but a long dirt road of hotels. Across the street was a little restaurant with a sign that read “great Indian food”. In a small act of defiance, we decided to forego the other hotel and cross the street to the little restaurant.
The place was very quiet, with only one Indian family sitting in the corner. Well at least the locals eat here, we thought. We sat down and ordered some food.
“Look at us Hairy! We crossed the street all on our own!”
When the food came out it was delicious! Some tomato curry with cheese in it and stuffed potatoes. Just delicious.
Actually, I’ve been enjoying ALL the food I’ve tried here in India so far. I have been keeping a strict food diary for Kelsi and I.
First I write down the item that I ordered. Then, I describe a little what is in it and how it tastes. Then I rate it. Not on a 1-10 scale or anything. It’s much more subjective, like “oh my god this is incredible” or ” holy cow, I can’t believe I’m actually eating this”. Unfortunately, after so many incredible foods, I’m running out of creatives ways of saying its amazing.
Kelsi’s food log is a little different. For those of you that don’t know, Kelsi is allergic to capsicum: all kinds of capsicum. That means no green peppers, no red peppers, no chilli peppers, no jalapeños, no paprika, and pretty much nothing that gives an Indian curry it’s spiciness. So Kelsi’s food log goes like this: we write down the name of what she orders. Then we wait 4 hours. If she throws up, it gets an X. If she’s still okay, it gets a tick.
For the first week the only ticks she had were plain naan bread and vegetable kofta… Then a couple days ago we had to change the vegetable kofta to an X again. Sad day. Looks like Kelsi is going to have a rough couple months eating naan!
When lunch was over we applauded ourselves for going somewhere other than the hotel. It wasn’t far, but it was baby steps. The food was still pricier than we wanted, but at least the locals ate there! Then, as we were leaving, a huge French tour bus unloaded and everyone piled into the restaurant. Fabulous. We hadn’t succeeded at all… So back to the hotel for a rest. Next time we’re anywhere NEAR the vicinity of some local eateries we will go there.
When our rest was over, we drove out to Jungarh Fort. Raju dropped us off and shuffled us towards the front gate. We didn’t even know where we were. We were told we were driving 40km out of the city to the Karni Mata temple that we wanted to see. Instead, we drove a couple blocks away and stood outside this massive fort. Okay, whatever: we never have any idea what’s going on these days.
So we paid our fee and walked in. The fort was lovely, and had a tonne of beautiful passages and ornate rooms. Apparently this is where all the royals of the past had lived. But we didn’t have a guide, and all the tour groups around us were French so we couldn’t even eavesdrop. (So many French tourists here in India! Wasn’t expecting that). We moved from room to room, and courtyard to courtyard taking photos then back out to the car. This isn’t where we wanted to be! We were so excited about the Karni Mata temple we just wanted to get there.
“That was so fast!” Said Raju when we came out of the fort less than 20 minutes later.
“Yup! Let’s go!” We said and we drove off to our intended destination: Deshnok’s Rat Temple.

Mandawa

Posted on March 23, 2013 by hilarylust

We’d only had about 5 hours of sleep when the alarm went off. Time to explore Rajasthan! We packed our bags and checked out before anyone else in the hotel (staff included) had woken up. Then we climbed into our waiting car.
We had a new driver, Raju was his name, and he seemed to be very nice. We slept on and off for most of the trip, but Raju kept turning around every hour or so to see if we were still okay.
When we pulled up to our hotel in Mandawa we were surprised at how beautiful the place was. Mandawa is just a tiny town. It has dusty streets, a small food market with rickety wooden stalls, and dilapidated looking homes built in a maze around the city. But when we pulled into the lot where we were staying, we were faced with a beautiful white building, painted intricately with Indian designs. The lobby was gorgeous. It had lovely seating areas scattered around, and an open courtyard through a doorway next to it. The place had a rooftop restaurant that looked out over the tiny town and towards the setting sun. If this was the budget tour, I can’t imagine what the mid-range and luxury people were experiencing!
We rested for a couple hours in the heat of the day, then had a local man walk us around the city and show us the sites. There really isn’t much to do in Mandawa. It’s very untouristy, there aren’t any major temples to explore, and the place is very small. But, it is a beautiful town to see if you want to get a feel for a real Rajasthani town. Mandawa used to be the major hub for the exporting of textiles and opium. Hard to imagine given its size, but it’s true.
The town was influenced by both traditional Indian art, and British business culture, leaving it uniquely beautiful. The town sports wall paintings that are over 150 years old. They are found on so many buildings as you wander around town. They depict stories and tableaus of Indian gods and animals, and also of British colonialism.
On many buildings, the paintings are faded or ruined from years of sun damage or structural collapse. But Mandawa still has many homes that have paintings inside as well. We were lucky enough to explore a few of them.
One building we went into was a home that must have belonged to a fairly wealthy family. Our guide said that it was probably home to a family of about 25 people (children, parents, grandparents etc). When you come ducking through the main door, you stumble into an open courtyard. Stairs lead off in three directions: left, right and straight ahead. We walked to the right and up into a little room.
“This is the business room” our guide said. This would be the room where the family would entertain its guests, or talk business with partners. It had a large square cushion on the floor where men would sit together, discussing the world and smoking opium. A small area in front was for dancing and entertaining, then a raised section in the back was for musicians to play. Right around the room, close to the ceiling were small wooden doors.
“That is the ladies section” he explained. The women were not allowed to join the men in business discussions. So instead they sat in the ladies quarters and could stick their heads through the little doors to watch the entertainment below. Prime viewing seats if you ask me!
The entire room was ornately decorated with carvings and paintings. Hardly a spot on the wall was bare. It was exquisite! I can just imagine how amazing it would be to sit in one of those smokey rooms, watching the dancers and listening to the musicians play over 150 years ago.
The rest of the home was slightly less ornate, but equally as unique. Brightly painted doors, a slave’s quarters, stalls for the livestock and a stunning rooftop with views across the city. This place was magical.
We continued our walk around the town, exploring homes here and admiring paintings there. At one point we went into a place called “The Golden Room” it was a beautifully crafted business room much like the others we had seen. This one however had paintings embossed with real gold detailing. The room sparkled in the light and was wonderful to see. It wasn’t a fully golden room, as we had sort of hoped from the name of it, but it was gorgeous nonetheless!
The paintings and old homes were absolute gems within an otherwise dusty old town. It gave spirit and culture to the area, and a look into what Mandawa used to be like.
My initial reaction of Delhi left me missing South Africa, but seeing Mandawa gave me a glimmer of hope that India is more than just chaos and bribes. I was glad we had stopped in this nothing town, and I was looking forward to exploring deeper into the rich history of India over the next two months.

Whirlwind City Tour

Posted on March 23, 2013 by hilarylust

Our second day in Delhi was a whirlwind of temples! I honestly have no idea where we went, but the places were amazing!
I walked down the little alley by our hotel in an attempt to get money again when a young boy stopped me.
“Hello, madam, hello! Do you remember me? I took you to dinner last night”
Oh yes, it was guy #2 with a friend in Delta.
“Yes, I remember you”
“You have a tour! Your guide is here! He has been waiting for you for three hours!”
What?! A huge misunderstanding. No one knew who was supposed to tell us about our city tour, and in the end, no one did. I ran back to the hotel to grab Kelsi.
“City tour! Lets go!”
We left in a mad rush and were shoved into our driver’s car.
“Okay, let’s go!”
We had no idea what was happening as we careened our way through the Delhi streets. Our guide kept pointing and saying short sentences about the things around us. Most of what he said was lost in his accent and the honking, screeching and yelling that was going on outside. We just nodded and smiled.
“Old Delhi!” We heard him exclaim, then he stopped the car and let us out.
“You see temple, then you find car in parking lot” and he drove off.
What’s going on? One minute we were quietly waking up in our hotel, and the next we were standing in the bustle of old Delhi with no clue what was happening.
So we wandered towards the temple.
“Shoes off here!” Someone yelled.
“200 rupees for camera!” Said another man.
“You need robe. 100 rupees!” Shouted a third.
What? What? What?
We doled out money as needed and stumbled into the temple in horrifically tacky flowered moo moos and 400 rupees short. Okay, welcome to the temple!
The robes they gave us didn’t cover anything more than was already covered, but every single white tourist had to wear one. Just another money making scam. Cameras also cost money. Anywhere between 10 to 400 rupees it seems. But they won’t let you go in without a ticket so unless you hide it in your bra (which we ended up doing for the more expensive places later on) you’re stuck with the fee.
The first temple we went to was beautiful. A wide open courtyard, gorgeous structures and walls and huge domed ceilings. Okay, so actually I think this was a mosque. Mosques are Muslim and temples are Hindi. I’m trying to overcome my ignorance of Indian culture and learn what I can about the different religions and customs. It’s a slow process.
Either way, it was gorgeous. We spent some time milling around in our moo moos and taking photos, then we left to find the car. On the way out, the man standing by our shoes demanded money.
“I watch shoes. You pay me” he shoved Kelsi when we stared blankly, unable to understand his thick accent. You want money because we left our shoes on the ground?’ You don’t even know that these are our shoes! We could be stealing anyone’s! We were upset, but handed him a small note and angrily walked away. Next time, the shoes went into my purse before we walked up to the temple. Later on we just shook our heads at all the poor tourists getting ripped off by guys watching their shoes as we strolled on by. By the end of the day we were pros. We walked through, camera in our bra, shoes in the purse and following closely at the heels of another tour group. If you walk in, with a dazed and confused look, being herded behind other white tourists, the guards just think you’re on the tour and wave you through. First day in Delhi we probably saved ourselves over $20 dollars in shoe/camera/entrance fees!
After the first mosque we carried on to Gandhi’s grave sight. A lovely little monument in a beautiful garden, we took some quick photos and carried on.
Thirdly, we came to a place called Humayun’s Tomb. It was a pricey entrance fee, and we weren’t sure even what it was! When we entered the first gates though we were amazed by what we saw. Humayun’s Tomb is the second most elaborate mausoleum in India, next to the Taj Mahal! I’m glad we decided to go in!
The place was stunning, with a rich, red color and intricately detailed stonework the tomb is quite a sight. It is roughly 4000 square meters, 50m high and has 160 royal members buried in it. (We counted 24… Such a fail)
This mausoleum is where we really discovered how much Kelsi and I stood out in India. Two blonde haired blue eyed girls traveling alone is apparently pretty uncommon here. Out of the two places we had visited that day, we had two groups of guys come up and ask to have their photos taken with us. (Apparently the joke was lost in translation when I told one guy I was going to charge him for the photo. Seemed only fair considering everyone sitting in the temples did the same thing to us!).
While we were at Humayun’s Tomb, we stopped and asked a lady to take our photo while we stood in front of the building. As she was preparing to take the photo, about 10 other groups all took out their cameras. We posed for our shot, and 15 or so clicks went off as EVERYONE took a photo of Kelsi and I. So strange.
Since then, even women have come up to us excitedly wanting to get their photos taken with us. Every time I assume they want US to take a photo of THEM, but every time I’m sorely mistaken.
After the tomb came lunch. We had no choice in the matter. We were dropped off at a restaurant full of tourists, with costs 5 times as
expensive. If we weren’t so starving we would have protested more. Instead we ate a couple of lovely curries and cured our hangriness.
When lunch was over we visited the beautiful Lodhi gardens. They were a peaceful escape in the middle of such a crazy city, and a fabulous place to clear our heads. Then came the Lotus temple, which we were totally lost in. We kept getting pushed from one line to another, herded around like sheep, only to enter into a temple that was unadorned, in total silence, and allowed no photography. Not worth the visit, apart from the beautiful lotus shape of the building itself.
Afterwards we drove 10km outside the city to another temple. I was lost with names at this point, and exhausted. The place was lovely, just like all the others had been, and had a huge tower in the middle of some ancient looking ruins. It’s too bad we were so sleepy, because it was hard to fully appreciate how gorgeous the place was when all I could think of was bed. We’d been on the tour for nearly 8 hours. That’s insane.
Apparently, however, this was our last temple. Oh good!
What our driver failed to mention, was that we would now be brought to a three story, textiles and carving market, where we would be harassed by merchants to buy their wares. Kill. Me. Now.
We wandered the floors of the building, trying to make small talk with each and every merchant that approached us. It was overwhelming. The stuff was beautiful, but we weren’t about to carry trinkets in our bags for 2 more months when we could but all the same stuff in
Mumbai at the end of our trip. So we dragged our sore feet back the the car empty handed. Home time.
But it wasn’t! “One last temple!” Our guide said. Oh god. He pulled over at some lit up temple all sparkly and white in the darkness of Delhi and dropped us off. We were over it. We both walked around the corner, took a photograph of 80 percent wall and 20 percent temple and stormed back to the car. We took a photo, happy?
Then there was a mandatory stop at the office for final details of our trip,
and finally we were dropped off at the main bazaar. We couldn’t quite get to our hotel by car, because there were a bunch of cows blocking the road (only in India) so we got out and walked the last few hundred meters to make it home.
What an exhausting day. We had no idea what was going on or what we had just seen. We searched each place out in our lonely planet guide in an attempt to piece together the day. Eventually we just ate dinner and went to bed. Our new driver was scheduled to pick us up at 7am the next morning.
Road Trip #2: Rajasthan!

New Delhi

Posted on March 22, 2013 by hilarylust

New Delhi. It was early morning and already sticky hot. I’ve heard stories of getting off planes in India and having a stench hit you in the face. I had braced myself for the Eau d’India but thankfully it never came. We were like moving corpses as we walked through Delhi International: and we had a whole day ahead of us.
I got to the baggage carousel and found both our bags right away (always a relief). Kelsi had to wait in line for a visa and came through about 20 minutes later with a scowl on her face.
Turns out whatever her travel agent had said about India visas was wrong. Kiwis are now only allowed a one entry, 30 day visa for US$60. They can also only get a maximum of 2 visas a year. This was a slight problem, as we are staying in India for 2 months. Luckily, we had a vague plan to fly down to Sri Lanka for a few days, and so I had applied for a double visa. Now it looks like Sri Lanka is a must stop over or Kelsi gets the boot by the beginning of April!
Surprisingly, we managed to find our way out of the airport, onto the metro, at at the Main Delhi station with only a few peoples’ guidance. Delhi’s downtown core was chaos! People, rickshaws, tuk-tuks, cars, stray dogs, cows: you name it, Delhi’s got it. Crossing the street was our main mission. Bags on, still half asleep, we followed close at the heels of some locals in an attempt to cross the main thoroughfare. It was only a four lane street, but somehow the city had made it into a chaotic mess of 7 or 8 lanes at once! When we crossed the street we felt like experts; we’ve got this! Go ahead Delhi, do your worst.
To get to the hostel we were trying to find we had to leave north from the metro station, then cross over top of the major train station, then enter the main bazaar and find the red mosque. Easier said than done. The directions weren’t difficult, but moving in a crowd with our life on our backs was not ideal.
The main bazaar was even wilder than I had expected from downtown Delhi. Merchants yelling, clothing shops spilling into the streets, food stalls with public urinals right behind them (we opted to avoid that food stall) and all the chaos of India wrapped up in a few squared blocks. It was like Bangkok’s Khaosan Road on steroids.
We eventually managed to push our way through the crowds and arrived at the Smyle Inn. Cheap, clean rooms for a couple dollars and it comes with a free breakfast! Sign me up.
When we checked in, all we wanted to do was go to sleep. We’d been up for over a day and we were both beyond exhausted. But sleeping now would screw up our pattern, and we had to do way too much organizing.
We had arrived in India with nothing planned. We have a booking for the Holi Festival in Mathura on the 25th and a flight home booked in May. That is all. I even only found out about the Smyle Inn off my hostel world app in the Dubai Airport. I love not having everything planned while I travel, but having a vague idea of what we should see is essential if you want to see anything at all. So for our first day, we needed to come up with a game plan.
First was money. The $20 worth of rupees that Cathy gave me was a lifesaver at the airport. It got us into town and saved us airport exchange rates and ATM fees. Right around the corner from our hostel was a CitiBank. Lonely Planet said that it should work with most foreign debit cards, except, apparently, mine. In fact, NO ATM’s will accept my debit card, because my “card is invalid, please contact your branch”. Great.
As we carried on, everyone in the street wanted to meet us. I knew that two blonde haired, blue-eyed girls were going to cause a stir in India, I just didn’t realize how much. We were the staring focal point of nearly everyone in the main bazaar (even all covered up in our layers of clothing).
“Where you from pretty ladies?”
“Hello. Namaste. Which country?”
“Namaste. What is your name?”
It was a little overwhelming on no sleep and I would have given anything to just crawl up in my bed back at the hotel. But we had to keep on trekking. We were on our way to Connaught Square, where the tourist information center was. Booking from there, you don’t have to pay commission (or as much) unlike at a hotel. We met one young guy in the street who pointed us in the right direction. His English was pretty good. “Where are you from?” He asked. “Canada and New Zealand” we said. “Oh, Canada. English or French part?”
“English. From Vancouver”
“Oh! I have a friend who lives in Delta. He says it very nice there”
Delta, wow, I’m skeptically impressed that he’d heard of Delta. Apparently the guy had spent a couple weeks in Montreal with his Canadian ex-girlfriend. He’s also been to New Zealand. He was now waiting for the arrival of his fiancé from Holland… Boy gets around the world for working at a jewelry stand (as we found out later).
Maybe it was because we were exhausted, or maybe it was just a gut feeling, but every person that spoke to us that day I thought was lying to us. We left world-traveling-lover-boy behind and walked towards Connaught Place. It wasn’t half a block down the road before we picked up our next cling-on as we tried to cross the road.
“Here, walk with me, I live here, I can help you cross the road safely! Which country you from?”
And it began again…
This guy said he just happened to be walking by the tourist office and he would show us the way. It’s a sad day when what seems like such a nice gesture is construed as some sort of a trick. Is he taking us to his friend’s travel shop? Does he get commission off picking up tourists and dropping them off?
God we needed sleep. All my senses were skewed and I was in a constant state of skepticism. Either way we ended up at the tourist office and cling-on two continued on. Maybe he was just being helpful.
We got into the office and was greeted by Samel: a young tour consultant in his thirties who knew EXACTLY where we needed to go.
We sat down just to ask a couple questions and instead of answering any of them, Samel drew out a map with a bunch of dots and started listing the cities we were going to visit in the next three weeks. Wait, what? We just wanted to get some information and find out how to book a bus or a train? Now this guy is asking us if we would like the deluxe, mid-range or budget tour.
Hours since last sleep: 30 something.
This was all too much. We liked the idea of not having to look up anything, but didn’t want to be on a tour. Samel was a smooth talking and straightforward salesman. “This is what you want to do. Trust me.”
I didn’t trust him, not at all, but not planning seemed like a great idea on no sleep. We told him we would go home and discuss it, then come back to him in a couple hours.
We left the building and ran into cling-on number 2 again. He’d been waiting around the corner.
“Did you get all the information you needed?”
I thought he was going somewhere…
We thanked him for taking us and carried on. We stopped at the markets on the way home to buy some clothing. Long, airy, baggy Indian pants and some scarves to cover our shoulders. The stuff was cheaply made, but only cost us a couple dollars so we were happy. New wardrobe: Check!
Finally, we dragged our feet back to the hotel, briefly having to stop to hear more about world-traveling-lover-boy’s fiancé one more time. Fantastic.
Back at the hotel we struggled to stay awake as we decided where WE wanted to go over the next few weeks.
When we arrived back at the tourist office with a plan we sat down at Samel’s desk again to ask some questions.
“We’re back!” We announced, only 2 hour after we had left.
He stared at us blankly.
“The Germans?”
“Uh, no, from Canada and New Zealand. We were just here a couple hours ago.”
“I have a lot of tourists in and out all the time here” he said unapologetically.
This guy sucks at his job. But we were not about to find another place when all the shops were closing so we continued on with our plan.
“These are the places we would like to go. Can we organize a driver to take us here?”
He looked at the list, slashing things here, and changing dates around. He didn’t take into consideration much of what we were saying, but in the end we found a nice compromise that left us with so many more things than we could ever see on our own. Everybody is happy.
“Would you like to go on a city tour now?”
Oh god, we still haven’t slept.
“No thank you, we are tired. We are going for dinner then to sleep.”
“No, no. It is included. Here, I will get someone to take you to dinner, it’s a great place. Then the driver will pick you up and you will go for a short tour.”
Before we knew it we were pushed out the door and taken around the corner by some young guy.
“Which country?” He asked
“Canada and New Zealand”
“Oh Canada, French or English?”
“English, from Vancouver”
“Oh, I have a friend that lives in Delta! He says it very nice.”
Hmmm, Delta eh? Pretty popular place with New Delhians!
The guy that brought us to the restaurant also ordered our food: a special Thali. Thali is a common all you can eat dish here in India. It comes in a big silver platter with separate compartments. It has several different dipping sauces or curries served with naan and rice. A great way to try a little bit of everything.
When dinner was over our driver grabbed us and sped out through the city. He took us to see the India Gate and some temple that was beautiful and right in the middle of the city. Unfortunately we couldn’t appreciate it through all our exhaustion. We were probably at 40 hours with no sleep and we could hardly stand. When we were finally dropped off at the hotel later I collapsed into bed and didn’t wake up for 12 hours… Kelsi for 14. It was quite the first day in Delhi!

Changing Continents

Posted on March 21, 2013 by hilarylust

We had two flights and 17 hours before we got to New Delhi. When I first booked the flight I thought to myself, “Why does it take so long?!” Oh, because South Africa and India are on TWO SEPARATE CONTINENTS! That’s why! Okay, maybe fitting in two continents in one trip was a silly idea. But I have no regrets! I couldn’t decide between the two places, might as well do both!
Our first flight was about 10 hours from Cape Town to Dubai. As we loaded the plane, Kelsi was told to go to the right, while I walked down the farther lane on the other side of the aircraft.
“Race you!” She said, and took off down the aisle.
My line moved at a glacial pace. One man couldn’t decide where he wanted to put his luggage and was trying to fight his way back the other direction. A family was trying to gather their children and pack all their toys, books and bags into one overhead compartment.
When I travel I usually have pretty good luck… Until the airports. Airports are where all my luck goes out the window and I’m left in utter agony for the majority of the time. I’ve been in the screaming children’s section of a 9 hour flight from London. The parents decided to leave all their wailing youngsters next to me while they quietly conversed at the back of the plane: I called it the “ball pit section” and the screeching went great with my hangover. I had an old drunk man pass out on my shoulder during my flight to Greece: a wonderful 10 hours of my life. I missed my connecting flight in Houston because of my terrible choice of security lines: much to Adam’s amusement. And we all remember the chaos of my flight to Argentina when the airport had no power: why do I travel…
Standing in the longer line in this plane was peanuts compared to the airport disasters I’ve had before. It was at least 5 minutes later than Kelsi when I stuck my head into our plane compartment and saw her sitting in her seat laughing at me. I gave her my best Adrienne impression of “I’m stuck behind a bunch if people on the stairs” look and she laughed even harder. I was still slowly working my way towards her in line when I realized she couldn’t stop laughing at me.
Okay, it was funny that I was stuck in line, but not THAT funny. Then she looked to her right, then back at me and then laughed again. I peeked my head around the line to see what she was looking at.
Kelsi and I were in the middle two seats in the middle section of the plane. On the far right was a man on his own, then Kelsi, then me, then the LARGEST man I’ve ever seen on an airplane!
I don’t want to make fun of him, he was a lovely man, but he DID take up all of his seat, and half of mine. The flight attendant ACTUALLY had to give him an extra seatbelt to clip on to the first one so that he could be strapped in. Of course I would get that seat.
Then, about five minutes into the flight, the seat in front of me flew back, crushing me in even further. Kelsi found this hilarious. If I’d had room to move my arms, I would have slapped her.
This flight is where I realized that I have difficulty doing normal things in cramped spaces. Taking off a sweater? Not a chance! I wriggled and squirmed for about five minutes before I squeezed myself out of it. I dropped every one of my utensils on the ground, but couldn’t contort my body enough to pick it up again. So I sat, straight as an arrow in the left half of my little airplane seat, and watched a movie… For 10 hours.
During the flight Kelsi watched Twilight 4 times. Yup, that’s right, FOUR times. Apparently she still doesn’t know what it’s about (and I thought MY flight experience was bad).
Well it was excruciating, but we did land in the Dubai airport. We had a couple hours layover and were total zombies the entire time. All I wanted to do was go to sleep! Kelsi Skyped her parents on the wifi while I struggled to hold myself together. It was one of those “I’ve never been so tired and haggard in my life” moments. I couldn’t wait to get on ANOTHER flight.
Our second flight was much quicker, but I can’t exactly tell you what happened. I was in a state of limbo: half awake and half asleep. I don’t remember watching a movie, but I didn’t sleep either. I just stared off into oblivion like the undead and waited for the plane to land.
Eventually it did land. Thank goodness. And we stumbled our way into India…

The Bucket Lust

A travel journal by Hilary Lust

Category Archives: Asia

Jaisalmer

The Rat Temple

Bikaner

Mandawa

Whirlwind City Tour

New Delhi

Changing Continents

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