The Jain Temples of Ranakpur

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On our way to Udaipur, we stopped in the lovely little village of Ranakpur. On our way there, Raju decided, out of the blue, that he was giving us new names. We had all been in silent thought for a while when Raju turned around and made his announcement.
“Your new name is Sunita!” He pointed at me. Uhh, okay Raju. “It is very famous Indian name, Sunita” Alrighty. I’ve had enough nicknames in my time, Sunita works for me. “And you… Anita!” He pointed to Kelsi. Of course we would have matching names. It doesn’t confuse people enough that we look identical to all Indians. Some of them stare at us perplexed when we say we are from different countries, trying to figure out how we could be twins and from the other side of the globe! Now we had matching names; it was going to confuse everyone. But from that point forward, we were Sunita and Anita to Raju.
“Sunita! That your home!” Raju said, pointing to a dilapidated and broken down mud shack at the edge of the town.
“Uhh, thanks Raju. It’s so lovely.” And then he giggled to himself for making such a funny joke.
While in Ranakpur, we first hiked to the top of a small hill which looked over a gorgeous lake. It was the first sign of rolling hills and small mountains that we’d seen yet in India and the view was beautiful. The green background was quite a difference from Rajasthan’s golden desert to the west.
At the foot of the hill was a small house and inside, a man who made handwoven dhurries for a living. Dhurries are like carpets, but the pattern is double-sided and the whole thing is a lot lighter. The process is fascinating! He showed us how he weaves the wool or silk or hair, through this wooden structure, and then uses a comb-like object to push all the material into place. One Dhurrie takes him 35 days, working 8 hours per day, to complete. Are you kidding me?! That’s insane. The man just sits there all day, pressing and weaving and designing beautiful looking carpets. It was amazing.
After the demonstration was the usual “please buy my stuff” speech. He had us look through his works and pick out our favourites. “Don’t worry about the price! It is very cheap!”
That’s what they all say. But we were not about to haul around massive carpets on top of our already insanely packed bags.
“I’m sorry,” I said “your work is beautiful, but I don’t have a home of my own to put one in!” I explained.
“You don’t have a home of your own?” Some guy, obviously another tourist traveling on his own, popped his head around the pillar to talk with us. “That is very sad”.
We laughed and chatted about where he had just come from. He was absolutely lovely and the first tourist we had spoken to in ages! He was so excited to hear that we were heading to Udaipur because he had just had such a wonderful time there.
“You have to stay at the hotel I was at! It’s called Ganesh Ghats! Can you remember that? Would you like me to write it down? Oh! And I went on this wonderful hike through the jungle. It was the best thing I have done in India so far! My driver has the name of the company. Please, if you would like, come and get the name from him.”
We were excited to hear about all the fun stuff to try in Udaipur. It was the first city we were visiting that we stayed in for two nights, which meant lots of time for exploring. “Ya, we’d love to get the name!” We started, then Raju cut us off.
“Okay now, Chello! We go now, in the car” he practically stepped in between us and shuffled us towards the car.
What? Wait. We’re in the middle of a conversation! We shouted apologies over Raju’s shoulder to the guy just as we were pushed into the car.
“Don’t talk to young men. They are bad. I do not like them. Do not talk to them, okay?”
No. Not okay.
“We were taking to him Raju. He was very nice!” We said.
“No! We go now” he said definitively, and we drove off.
Okay. So a few of you know that NO ONE tells Kelsi and I what to do. A couple people on this trip have learned the hard way not to treat us like children that need to be looked after. It’s not pretty. We were more than unimpressed to be told who we could or could not talk to. We were in silent fury as we drove off to the next stop…
When we arrived, Raju acted like nothing had happened. “Okay, you go into temple, and you take photo, then back to the car. Okay? It is free, so don’t bring any money, and when anyone talks to you, you say Chello!”
We got out of the car without a word and walked away. We were going to go talk to everyone we saw, just out of spite.
We stopped at the first temple which was small, but beautifully carved. It was all in white marble, with many carved pillars and unique looking designs. Ranakpur apparently is home to India’s biggest and most important Jain temple complexes: and that is what we were looking at.
When we had finished with the first temple, we carried on to the larger and more complex temple.
Sitting on a bench outside the large temple we ran across the guy we had just met at the Bhurrie factory.
“Look Kelsi! There’s that guy again!”
“Let’s go talk to him”
Just out of pure spite, he was going to be our new best friend for the afternoon. Lanz from Denmark turned out to also be one of the most genuinely nice people I’ve ever met in my life. He was one of those people who would get ripped off by everyone in India. He accepted flowers and photos and bhindis, then was asked to dole out money as needed. He did so with a big smile, not ever feeling taken advantage of. When it turned out that we needed to pay a fee for my camera as well (even though we left all our money in the car as instructed) he didn’t even blink an eye and paid for two cameras to enter. Every nice thing he did made us angrier at Raju.
The second temple was absolutely spectacular! In the same milk white marble, this temple was a massive collection of rooms and pillars. The temple has 1444 individually engraved pillars, each one more elaborately decorated than the next. It was stunning!
We must have spent 45 minutes or so just wandering around the place, looking in all the little crevasses and rooms that the place had. When we were done, we wandered back and found Lanz, with an awestruck look on his face only about half way through the temple. We thanked him for the camera and the information in Udaipur and wished him luck on his travels. Then we walked back to the car to find Raju, silently triumphant for disobeying his strict “no meeting people” rule. If it was going to be like this for the whole two weeks, we were going to have a problem.
Next stop: Udaipur.

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Jodhpur

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On our way to Jodhpur we demanded that we stop back in Jaisalmer to see the fort.
“No, no, is much nicer fort in Jodhpur.” Explained Raju.
No! We were exhausted of being told what and where we were going to see things. WE really wanted to see the fort. He said he would, but only because he liked us. Reminding us that he wouldn’t have done it for some other tourists… So much for “you choose the places you want to see!”
In the end, I’m so glad we made the stop. The Jaisalmer fort is bustling with life! Shop merchants and locals and guesthouses: the place was full of tourists and temples and most of all, history. Can you imagine living in this fort so many years ago? Before the city was built up around it? Before the smog rolled in and you could see out forever across the distance? Wow. The place was incredible. We walked the streets for a little while, took some photos of a view point and then headed back to the car. We had only one night in Jodhpur and we weren’t going to miss it.
Our hotel in Jodhpur was incredible, just like all the the others had been; however, I think this was my favourite. It had a swimming pool, very nice rooms, outdoor courtyards and a huge rooftop patio with an outstanding view of the Jodhpur fort.
The Jodhpur fort may have actually been more impressive to look at than the Jaisalmer one, and from right underneath it, the walls looks imposing and impenetrable.
For the afternoon we checked out the markets. Jodhpur is known for its delicious spices, so we spent some time smelling all the different curries and teas that they had to offer. It was hard not to buy everything in the shop! But we did manage to get a few small things to carry with us for the next month and a half (our bags are becoming so full we will soon fall over with the weight of them!). For the next hour or so, we wandered the streets, with Raju as our unnecessary body guard of course, and checked out the markets. The center of the market has a beautiful clock tower right in the middle. Below it is a chaos of motorbikes, horse drawn carriages and a herd of cows, all trying to co-exist with one another. Good luck!
Eventually, we strolled back to the hotel for dinner on the rooftop. Our hotel restaurant just happened to be the number one recommended restaurant in the Lonely Planet guide, so we didn’t have to go very far for a delicious meal.
In the morning we checked out the fort. Unlike the living Jaisalmer fort, the Jodhpur fort, named Mehrangarh, no longer has any permanent residents. The fort does, however, have some outstanding views from its outer ramparts and a museum that snakes it’s way through the inner castle. Once you start in the museum though, there’s no getting out! You have to move through the crowds of people, up stairways and down passages until the end of the tour. We didn’t realize this until it was too late. An hour later we escaped through the exit, exhausted from seeing throne rooms and decorated hallways!
When we finally found Raju back in the parking lot, we drove off to a nearby palace. We opted not to go inside, but had some spectacular views of the palace behind the lake. It didn’t even look real standing there! Finally, we carried on to our next stopover: Ranakpur.

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Camel Safari in the Thar Desert

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We woke up early after our first night in Jaisalmer and saw some more cenotaphs. They were a peaceful escape from the city, apart from the few young boys harassing us. I don’t care what Bollywood movie star I remind you of, and no, I don’t want my photo taken from every possible angle. I just want to enjoy the serenity of the cenotaphs alone!
There was no escaping though. When we had successfully dodged a couple clingy young boys and wanted to leave, Raju had an entire photo shoot for us in mind.
“Stand by pole. Ok. And you, over by wall” *groan* There’s nothing I dislike more than an awkward photo session where every limb has it’s exact place.
When we got back in the car it was a relief. We were excited to go see inside the fort, then head off to the camel safari in the afternoon.
“Okay I get tomatoes and then after maybe we chello camel safari” said Raju as we pulled up on some street corner and he got out.
What?
“Did he just say he was going to get tomatoes?” I asked Kelsi.
“I think that’s what I heard”
“What does that mean?”
“No idea.”
Big surprise. Kelsi and I still have no idea what’s going on. We watched Raju disappear into the crowd. We waited in the scorching heat in the car. While we waited, we looked around at the busy street.
Motor bikes, bicycles, rickshaws, vendors, cows, goats, children, shoe polishers it was dizzyingly busy around us. And once again, all eyes were on the two blondes in the car. Great. I feel like I’m in a zoo: gawked at behind glass with loads of farm animals around me. What more could a girl wish for?
There was a bottle shop on the corner where Raju had left to.
“Bet he’s gone into the bottle shop” I said. We had joked that we have never seen Raju eat anything since we’ve been on the tour with him.
“No wonder he doesn’t eat!” Kelsi exclaimed, “he’s an alcoholic!”
“Or maybe he went in there to buy us a bottle of whiskey now that he thinks it’s our favourite drink!” We laughed.
“I wonder what he meant by tomatoes…”
Then just as we were pondering, Raju came back around the corner with a big green box in his hand. He walked up to the window of the car and dropped it on Kelsi’s lap. Then he turned and walked back into the crowd.
Inside the box was a big bottle of whiskey.
“Oh god, you’re kidding me. Did he just buy us a bottle of whiskey! What the hell are we going to do with a bottle of whiskey!? And where did he go?!” We had no choice but to sit there perplexed until Raju came back.
When he came back the second time he had a black bag with him. Without a word, he once again walked up to the window, dropped the bag in Kelsi’s lap, and walked away…
We opened the bag. It was full of tomatoes, cucumbers and chili peppers. Okay, what the hell is going on. What’s with the vegetables?! We were so lost. Was this some weird Indian drink we were about to make? Like a Caesar, but with fresh tomatoes? Do Indians eat vegetables while they sip on whiskey? Was this even for us?
Raju came back again with another small black bag. This one had a handful of peanuts in it.
“Eat” he said. It was the first thing he’d said since he’d left us in the car.
We were so confused as we sat in the back of the car, eating our peanuts, that we didn’t even notice we were driving in the wrong direction from the fort.
Apparently the fort wasn’t in our agenda anymore and instead, we drove straight out to the camel safari in a town called Khuri, 40km outside Jaisalmer. Lunch was also not in the program it seems. We arrived at the camel safari start point 2 and a half hours before anyone else, and just had to sit there, with the man who worked there, until everyone showed up. Plenty of time to have explored the fort and eaten food. We were cranky to say the least.
The guy that worked there was at least nice. Love was his name, and he only works the camel safari part time. Normally, he is an engineer that specializes in wind power. Sadly, engineers in India don’t get paid well, so he has to work with camels part time to pay the bills.
Love chatted to us about life in the desert.
“People just work with camels, and relax when it is hot and eat opium.”
Oh, ya. Wait, what was that last part?
“Did you say EAT opium?”
We asked.
“Yes, we eat, it clears brain! Wait, I have some in my pocket.”
Sure enough, the man pulled out a black chunk of opium from his back pocket. I don’t think I’ve ever seen opium before, so I just had to take his word for it. I have also never heard of people eating it in small chunks.
“Is opium illegal here?” We asked.
“Yes, but in the desert no one checks, so everyone eats it here.” So weird. Turns out the man carries hashish and marijuana in his pockets too. I had to laugh about how absurd it was that he just walked around with all sorts of drugs in his pockets and didn’t seem phased by it at all. Only in India.
Soon enough the other tourists arrived and we set out on camels for the sunset. It was deathly hot, and we still had four hours of trekking round the desert until sunset. Plus we were starving. Nonetheless, we were excited to head out in the desert and finally meet some other tourists!
The camels we jumped on were massive! I thought the camels in Africa were large, but these ones are insane. I bet some of the larger ones reached 10 feet high with their heads up! I felt like I was sitting on top of the world on my camel, Kaloo.
Turns out, it didn’t really matter that Kelsi and I had waited two hours for the rest of the group. Three minutes into the ride, our two guides split off from the group and we went our separate ways. So much for making friends!
We walked for a while in the sun, then decided to take a break in the shade for a few minutes. Kelsi and my guides could not have been more different. Kelsi’s guide was a young boy at the age of ELEVEN! Yup, eleven years old and working hard. My guide Luna, on the other hand, could have passed for one hundred and eleven. Either way, they were both very nice, and seemed to get along great with each other as well.
In the shade of the tree is when Kelsi and I realized how funny looking camels are. They chew out of the side of their mouths, which looks hilarious in photos, and although they apparently don’t spit, they do bite! Kelsi’s was a mean little camel and tried to nip at her when she stuck her face close. Mine was older and a little less temperamental, but both camels left us entertained for a good half hour as we took stupid photos of them. When we turned around from the camels, we saw that both our guides were asleep. What a great tour. So we went back to the camels.
“Let’s just take them and escape to Pakistan!” We said. We were only about 30 kilometers or so from the Pakistani border. It would be easy! I grabbed the reins of my camel and pretended to run. But Kaloo wasn’t having any of it and just sat there with a stupid look on his face.
It’s hard to believe it, but eventually we got bored taking photos of the same two camels over and over again. Unfortunately, our guides were still passed out. So we decided to go for an adventure. We ran around the desert (literally running. The sand was so hot on our bare feet we could hardly stand it) searching for more fun. We climbed up hills and sand dunes, got tangled in some prickle bushes and finally we found the goat.
There were a number of black goats roaming around the desert, but this goat was our target.
“Let’s see if we can get it” we said.
He was a sneaky goat, that’s for sure! He saw us coming and immediately went skidding away in the other direction. There were so many prickles on the ground at this point that we were at a disadvantage with our bare feet. I chased him around one bush and then got very close as I hid behind a shrub before creeping up behind him. Then a lizard skittered by me and I got distracted. The goat saw me and ran off again. Foiled again!
Kelsi tried next, running round and round this big bush. The goat outsmarted her too and just climbed into the depth of the prickles to get away. Damn you goat!
We give up… Back to the camels.
The camels were sprawled out on the sand and scratching themselves when we got back. Kaloo swung his legs around and flung a goat pellet, hitting me straight in the chest with a thud. Excuse me! Kelsi burst out laughing.
We’d been stopped in the shade for an hour and a half before our guides woke up. Hi. Remember us? You are our TOUR GUIDES and we are supposed to be riding camels! They seemed unphased.
We hopped back on the camels and towards our sunset viewpoint. Kaloo was apparently still tired, because he stumbled his way up the hill and got stuck trying to walk over a huge bush. Kelsi broke out into fits of laughter once again as I struggled to stay on. When Luna freed my camel from the tangle of the bushes, we carried onward up the dunes.
About 20 minutes later we came to our viewing point and back off the camels to sit in the shade. Kelsi and I entertained ourselves by playing xhonu in the sand and taking photos of a camel who’s lower lip was flipped outward and stuck. I was in stitches laughing at this camel, until we found out that his lip is probably permanently stuck that way. Then we felt a little bad for making fun of it.
The sunset was incredibly disappointing. Even in the middle of the desert, the sun hit a layer of smog long before it touched the horizon. We didn’t even stay for the whole thing. We were so hungry at this point, having not eaten more than half a handful of peanuts in 12 hours.
When we got back to camp, we were greeted by Raju.
“Look! I made you a treat!” He said with a smile. He pointed into the back of the car. It was a salad of sliced tomatoes and cucumber and chili peppers. Next to it was three glasses and a bottle of whiskey. My stomach churned. What a surprise!
“Now you go eat your dinner. But drinks, they maybe are too expensive, and many tourists, so no talking to them. Then when your dinner over, maybe we drink whiskey and eat the tomato!”
What? First of all, don’t talk to the tourists?! Kelsi and I have been craving ANY conversation with someone who speaks English for about a week now! Also, do we want to eat a salad after we’ve already eaten a four course meal? Probably not. And I really don’t want to drink a bottle of whiskey right before bed. But Raju looked so excited and had prepared everything for us, so we politely said we would join him after dinner.
Turns out we sat next to Italians and French at dinner, so our excitement to speak English was shot down anyways. Dinner was lovely, and came with wonderful dancing and fire breathing entertainment. When dinner was over, Love came around asking if we would like to sleep in cabins or in the desert.
“Desert, please!” We said.
“Okay, we leave in ten minutes then”
Oh no, we hadn’t even seen Raju. We rushed out to the car to tell him we couldn’t join him, but he said “no problem” and filled our glasses with whiskey. “Eat” he said and pointed to the salad.
Oh my god, I was so full. I couldn’t eat a salad now! But we had a few bites to be polite. When it had been a minute since we’d touched the food he repeated “you, eat”. No!!! I don’t want to. But our polite ‘no thank yous’ were brushed away with another “yes, you eat”.
Meanwhile, we had a cup of whiskey to drink. Why oh why did I mention the whiskey yesterday! To be honest, the whiskey wasn’t bad. It was very smooth and reminded me of drinking Sangsom back in Thailand. When we drained our glasses he filled them up. “Oh, no thank you” we said.
“It’s okay, it’s okay” and he poured in more.
This was weird. We were sitting in the desert, in the back of our car, eating slices of cucumber and tomato and drinking back shots of whiskey like they were water. ‘I just want to be sitting inside meeting people’ I thought.
We downed our second cup and jumped out of the car before he could fill it up a third time.
“See you in the morning” said Raju “be very safe, and no talking to anyone!”
We hopped on the back of a camel drawn cart and rolled out into the desert, feeling a little tipsy.
It was pitch black out there. We couldn’t see a thing as we rolled along the sand dunes and into the night. All you could hear was the grunting, growling, snoring sounds that were coming from the camels.
We slept apart from the group with two girls from Italy. We had no choice in the matter, that’s just where they put us. But our guide set up little cots for us, and full bed rolls and lots of blankets. It was the most comfortable I’d been in weeks!
Kelsi and I watched the stars for a little while, then I fell asleep quite quickly. I was woken a couple times in the middle of the night with the sounds of singing and drumming coming from somewhere way off in the distance. It could have been the small village, or perhaps it was somewhere in Pakistan. Apparently you can hear the village on the other side of the border when the wind is right. Then finally it was morning. The sunlight looked incredible over the sand dunes. It was the first time we saw where we had been sleeping and it was beautiful. Kelsi and I hiked up a small dune to see the sun rise, but really it just came out of a black cloud just like the sunsets.
Just after daybreak we were back in town, having breakfast. Then we were herded back to the car.
“You sleep good in the desert?” Asked Raju.
“Yup!” We both said. Then Kelsi looked down at the back of her seat with a horrified gaze.
“Look” she nudged me.
It was another bottle of whiskey….
Kill. Me. Now.

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The Rat Temple

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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!

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Bikaner

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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.

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Mandawa

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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.

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Whirlwind City Tour

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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!

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New Delhi

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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!

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Changing Continents

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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…