I'm on new ground here: I'm not following THE PLAN

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Marco’s alarm goes off at about 4:45 and I want to say goodbye to him one last time so I’m up, too.  As we’re talking, I say how much I’ve enjoyed spending time with them and wish out loud that he and Marc were going with me to Jaipur.  Marco counters by asking why I don’t just join them in Jaisalmer.  I take a second to come up with a good response, but instead I find myself wondering, ‘Why not?’  Would it be so horrible to miss Jaipur and instead see a city that so many people have said they really enjoyed?  It could be pretty fun to ride camels, bake bread in the sand and see the honey-colored fort and city, and let’s not forget that I’d be doing it all with two attractive men.  It takes me about five minutes to decide: screw Jaipur, I’m going to the desert. 

I start frantically throwing things into my pack and we’re checked out and out the door in twenty minutes.  Our hotel is right next to the train station, fortunately, and ten minutes later I have a ticket and we’re sitting on the train waiting for it to pull out.  I’m not sure why, but Marco suddenly gets a weird feeling that we’re on the wrong train.  He goes to double check the marquee and I talk to a few men on the train.  Even though he comes back convinced again we’re in the right spot, the locals say this train is headed the opposite way and I’m inclined to believe the experts.  In a flash, we throw our packs back on and track down the conductor.  We are definitely in the wrong place.  Running as quickly as I can with more than a third of my weight hanging off my shoulders, we scramble to the right platform, nearly running Marc over in our rush (who apparently had an interesting night…something about drinking a bit, getting followed by stray dogs and sleeping on the street after being locked out of his hotel).  Well, I guess he’s a pretty good sign that we’re finally where we’re supposed to be.

The three of us grab berths next to each other in the sleeper carriage and the boys pass out almost immediately.  Marc finished reading the book he’d been telling me about, Shantaram, and passes it on to me.  It’s the story of an Australian man who breaks out of prison and moves to the slums of Mumbai where he becomes the doctor for the thousands of residents, gets involved in the Bombay mafia and is finally recaptured and sent to Australia to serve the remainder of his sentence.  Marc thought it was excellent and he’s the fifth or sixth foreigner I’ve met who’s reading it as they travel India, so I’m pretty excited to start it myself.

A couple hours outside of Jaisalmer I start coughing like crazy, out of the blue.  This feels different from the last few days, though, and I can’t figure out what’s going on until the coughing gets so bad that I stand up to get some Kleenex out of my bag.  That’s when I notice that the air in the train has gotten very hazy and realize that the air is saturated with swirling clouds of dust.  Well, duh, Lauren, you are traveling through the desert so there’s a good chance that sand is going to start blowing in through the windows.  Soon I’m nearly choking as Marco and I struggle to lower the shutters and lock the windows closed.  They keep popping open, though, and each time they do the strong wind blows new clouds of sand into the compartment, coating every flat surface and my airway with a fine layer of silt.  It’s starting to get desperate when another passenger, coughing loudly as well, comes over and finishes the job for us.  Marc somehow sleeps through all of this.

Shortly after we regain control of our cabin, a foreign woman asks to sit on an empty berth and starts up a conversation with us.  She’s Norwegian and has just moved to Jaisalmer to be with her new husband.  Together they own a hotel called Anand Villas and she’s stopping by to tell us about it and invite us to stay there.  It seems like a good deal and she seems nice enough and to be honest it’s just nice to have a plan established, so we tell her we’ll see her at the station for a ride to her hotel.  When we arrive, though, it’s pretty clear we have lots of options of where to stay.  We walk past a long line of about 25 men, shouting and waving signs in English and Hindi advertising different hotels.  I’m really glad we don’t have to deal with these guys, though, and can go straight to Annette’s place.

At first they offer us a room with three beds, which gets a bit of a laugh from us.  It’s not exactly the arrangement we were thinking of.  Eventually, though, we work it out: Marc and I are staying in neighboring rooms on the upper floor and Marco will be downstairs. It’s about 1 when we arrive, but all we can think of is getting a hot shower and settling in; the sights will have to wait until after lunch.  But it turns out the hot shower will have to wait for another day because the heater isn’t working.  Just one more thing to look forward to in Singapore, I guess.

After lunch Marc has some errands to run so Marco and I visit the large Salim Sing-ki-haveli that turns out to be really interesting for such a small building.  A guide takes us from room to room pointing out some unexpected features: safes built into the walls that used scorpion-shaped locks; bricks interlocking like Legos; sandstone flowers and decorations that could be screwed in and out to customize the look of the haveli; trinkets like incense holders that spin open and convert to candle holders (note to self: buy one of these tomorrow!); and the mirrored dancing hall where the prime minister would sit for a night’s entertainment.  It’s no fort or palace, but it’s still going to stay with me as an example of the beauty of simplicity.

Afterwards, Marco and I take a nice walk around our neighborhood.  The architecture and design are just as enjoyable as they have been in other cities, but it’s definitely a different style from other parts of Rajasthan.  The buildings are the natural color of the desert, with geometric decorations mainly painted in white.  The children, of course, come running when they see us and a particularly pushy group of girls demands lots of photos.  They don’t seem to want any money, though, so I’m happy to oblige until they start making fun of me!  “No, Hindi?  That’s no good!  Madam needs Hindi in India!  And your eyes!  So small!  Where is your hair?  Nice ladies need nice long hair to get nice husbands.”  How the heck do they know this much English to begin with?  And why do they have to say these things in front of a guy?!  I’m dying here, but Marco is laughing and obviously enjoying my discomfort (which helps soooo much).

After I get over the blows to my ego and finally manage to shake my critics, we stumble upon a scene that’s uncomfortable for another reason.  A group of about fifteen women are sitting on blankets in the middle of an empty street rocking slightly and wailing and moaning while five men sit off to the side watching.  It would seem that someone passed away, but we’re not sure what’s really going on because after a few minutes the women stop and simply sit in silence.  They’re dressed in their usual colorful saris, too, so maybe it’s something else?  Fear of disrespecting their customs outweighs our curiosity, though, so after I take a few pictures of nearby buildings (all right, I admit, I also shot a quick, surreptitious video to capture that heart-breaking sound) we turn around and walk towards Kenchan Shree ice cream shop to meet Marc.

Well, this ought to be an interesting experiment.  Milkshakes in the past have been inconsistent, at best, so let’s see what the highly-lauded Kenchan Shree can produce.  Between the two us, Marco and I order the specialty, a makhania lassi with ice cream, a cheeku lassi, kulfi and a special kulfi.  Marc sticks to his personal favorite, a chocolate milkshake.  I’m not sure how to describe the flavor of the lassis, unfortunately; I lack familiarity with the spices they used and all I can tell you is that they were delicious!  The makhania was thick, more like real yogurt, and it came in a shallow bowl topped with two squares of ice cream that had obviously been carved off of a homemade block.  Kulfi and special kulfi are made of sugar, milk, pistachios, butter, cinnamon and other spices (the latter also has coconut and a few other extra ingredients), the mix of which is frozen into a popsicle.  If you ever get the chance, do yourself a favor and get any or all of these dishes.

And now the time has come to make a new plan.  We’re headed back to our hotel to talk about taking a camel safari for the next couple of days and find out information about when the trains and buses leave each day.  Marc and I both need to get to Delhi in a couple of days and are trying to fit in a 2-day camel trek as well as some time driving motorcycles.  I think I’ll be able to do it all: camel riding tomorrow and the next day then head out on the motorcycle early on the third day and return just in time to catch the train.  Wow, that’s a good-looking plan. 

With that settled, I manage to convince Marco to go with me to check-out the fort.  It’s close to sunset, so I doubt we’ll get into the small museum and temples there, but the cool thing about Jaisalmer fort is that it’s actually a lively neighborhood, with narrow, twisting streets packed with shops, homes and small temples.  Going along we turn left and right whenever we feel like it and just walk towards whatever looks the most interesting.  We pass a group of boys wrestling and karate fighting, as all 8 year-olds like to do, then find our way to the wall where we’re just in time to see the daylight die as a red smudge along the horizon.  Even though it’s dark the fort is very lively and shopkeepers still try to lure us in to buy shawls, journals or other trinkets.  The sales pitch continues as we walk down from the fort and into a bazaar before returning to the hotel to pick Marc up for dinner.

“America happy?  England happy?  Australia happy?  You pay me, I very happy!”  How many times did we hear this at dinner?  How was I supposed to know that smiling at the musical entertainment would bring us so much personalized attention throughout the evening?  All I did was bob my head a little and smile at the kids playing castanets and singing while their father played the harmonium.  And it was not my choice, I might add, to sit at the table right next to them (at least, I don’t think).  AND we’re eating at Saffron, which is quite an elegant restaurant; why would management allow the musicians to bother the customers, anyway?  Marc, nice guy that he is, gave them a small fortune of slightly-ripped bills in an attempt to shut the guy up and pass on some notes he probably couldn’t spend in a store.  Oh, but the food…the food….

Starters: bruschetta for Marco’s Italian heritage (wow, lot of galic), lemon and cardamom soup
Main course: mutton briyani for Marco, chicken mughlai for me, and butter chicken for Marc
Dessert: butterscotch and chocolate ice cream (pretty crappy, though, after this afternoon)
Drinks: Kingfisher beer (courtesy of Marc; will probably only taste good if I drink just this for a year)

Yes, now America, England and Australia are very, very happy.  Back at the hotel we sit with a  group of hotel staff and visitors to watch some a movie and have a late-night snack.  My pot of chai and apple crepe most definitely hit the spot and the low-budget comedy we’re watching is funny enough to be entertaining.  And, to top it off, I have a puppy to play with!  This adorable little guy lives at the hotel and will melt your heart…at least until he nips you and pees on your rug, both of which I got to enjoy earlier today.  After playing in Marc's room for about fifteen minutes, he sent the little guy next door to my room to see me for some lovin'.  The dog walks right past me to my bathroom rug, urinates, then walks back over and starts licking my leg.  What?!  Why'd you do that?  You can't just expect me...to forgive...you...  Oh, it's okay, you're the cutest puppy in the whole world!  Yes you are!  Who's a cute puppy?  You're a cute puppy!!  Like you would have done anything differently.

After I toss the pee rug outside my room for the hotel staff to take care of, I crawl into bed and try to read more of Shantaram so I can talk to Marc about it tomorrow.  This isn't going well, though; early morning, long train ride, full belly, getting up early to ride camels...

Well, it's better than yesterday

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When I wake up I feel like a new person.  I slept a good 10 hours and feel refreshed and relaxed.  Last night I did a one-week beauty regimen, so hopefully I’m looking a little better, too.  Took a hot shower and shaved (well, up to my knees), tweezed my eyebrows, filed my nails, put on some teeth whitening strips and wiped down my pack.  After doing laundry today I will have washed the last week out of my wardrobe and hopefully cleansed my mood a bit, too.  I have decided that I am not going to let my emotions get the best of me again; I am done crying because while this is hard, I am going to appreciate it in the end and I will never have to go through this again.  Case closed.

After accidentally sleeping through the morning yoga class (which turned out to be canceled, anyway), I meet a nice British guy at breakfast, Bhavesh, and we decide to walk the path to the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s ashram (where the Beatles met him and wrote the White Album).  He’s here for the yoga course starting next week, and I think again about how it might be nice to stay for that.  Rishikesh really is fairly peaceful when you aren’t having an emotional meltdown, and between him and Holly and the others I’m sure I could meet here, it might be nice to stay a while where I have friends.  And I confess I would be very interested to really dig in and study hatha yoga and meditation.  I’m going to have to give this more thought.

The Maharishi’s ashram is pretty well in ruins; it was taken over by the government 40 years ago when there was a land dispute between them and the yogi and they haven’t maintained it.  The guard wants Rs50 from each of us to go in and see it, but that’s not going to happen.  Bhavesh thinks he could have gotten us in for much less if he had walked up speaking Hindi (he’s of Indian heritage), but we remember not to let that happen again as we deal with vendors and touts. 

So we turn the other way and follow the same path around Rishikesh I trekked yesterday.  We talk about relationships (his crazy ex-girlfriend is Lauren, oops) and traveling India, the same topics I’ve talked about with everyone else I’ve met that never seem to get old.  As we loop around Rishikesh, we find we have a lot in common: first time traveling India extensively, first time traveling alone, same age and conundrum about more school vs work and interested in learning more about ourselves through the challenge of our travels.  He’s nice company and thinks I should stay for the course he’s taking.

Well, here’s my conundrum: the yoga course is quite long, 10 days, so I would have to miss at least 3 cities on my itinerary altogether in order to take it.  I think that after even a couple more days in Rishikesh I would be feeling recharged and ready to tackle the second portion of my trip (and I have managed to meet people in every city so far, so I have no reason to believe this trend wouldn’t continue).  I don’t think I would return to India just to go to Jodhpur, so skipping some places would probably mean I don’t ever see them, if we’re looking at this pessimistically.

On the other hand, there are some great reasons to stay.  Obviously, knowing other people here has been a big boost to my morale and overall mood.  I would really like to learn more about yoga and meditation in an authentic setting, and my day would be pretty well devoted to studying and practicing, which sounds heavenly.  I could certainly save a lot of money by staying here rather than moving from place to place.  And Rishikesh truly can be a very relaxing city, despite my turbulent first day here, and I can picture myself walking up the river with a book and spending a lazy hour or two reading on a rock with my feet in the water.

I devote most of the afternoon to flipping through my guidebook and looking at my itinerary.  I can hear Holly in the back of my head saying that I need to just stick to my plan and go for it, but I can also hear Oke saying that I should only do that if I’m totally sure I can handle more days like yesterday.  They’ve both got a good point, and like a good Indian Buddhist I think I’m going to follow the middle road: skip Orchha and Lucknow and give myself 4 extra days in Rishikesh.  This will be enough for the first 3 days of the course, and while I feel a bit like I’m cheating, I’m just not willing to miss my chance to see the blue and pink cities of Jodhpur and Jaipur (no matter how insane they’re rumored to be).  I hope this is a wise decision!!

Packed List, Week 1 Itinerary

Just a heads up: If you read my note on Facebook just ignore the second half of this post.  You've probably already read pretty much the same thing.

So in case you haven't noticed I'm a little excited about my trip; in fact, I'm already packed.  I've nearly filled my 75L backpack, but I've got room to spare to add mosquito nets and some clothes.  I basically followed my packing list, but here're a few changes I made:
Couple extra tank tops, long sleeve shirts and bandanas, bathing suit (for shared dorm bathrooms and swim in clean part of Ganges), no jacket (turns out I didn't ship the yellow EMS jacket that would have been perfect for this), fake wallet, money belt, clear nail polish, insect repellent wipes, sunscreen, pillowcase and a belt (not leather, those can't go in certain temples).
Left to buy: Pretty much just some mace or pepper spray, if I can find it.  Maybe an adapter and possibly a voltage stabilizer for my laptop if I think I need one.  Kind of tired of shopping, though.
Buying in India: Padlock and bike lock, doorstop, mosquito net and coils, flashlight (using one on my phone for now), vitamins, adapters

Only one problem left: I'm really not sure how to secure the top opening of my pack.  It's a drawstring with a flap that folds over and clips shut.  Read: no zipper to padlock.  I'm still thinking about this, but running out of time to find a solution.

Week One Itinerary:
Thur Nov 26: Fly from Singapore to Mumbai, Mumbai to Delhi, arrive about 8pm (kind of doubt they'll serve turkey on the plane to celebrate Thanksgiving; probably fish balls instead)
Fri and Sat Nov 27 and 28: Check out Delhi, stay at Nirvana hostel (so excited about it I'm shilling out a whopping US$12 a night instead of the usual $5 at other hostels)
Sun Nov 29: Check out Delhi and take over-night train to Amritsar
Mon Nov 30: Check out Amritsar, stay in gurudwara (Sikh pilgrim lodgings)
Tue Dec 1: Check out Amritsar, take overnight train to Rishikesh
Wed and Thu Dec 2 and 3: Check out Rishikesh and the Himalayas, stay at Parmarth Niketan ashram

Stuff to See This Week:
South Delhi: Qutb Minar, Ashoka's Rock Edict, Nizamuddin, Humayun's Tomb, Safdarjang's Tomb, Lodi Gardens, Tughluqabad
Old Delhi: Red Fort, Jama Masjid, Chandni Chowk, Degambara Jain temple, Raj Ghat, Firoz Shah Kotla, Connaught Place, Rajpath, Rashtrapati Bhavan
Central Delhi: National Museum, Jantar Mantar, Lakshmi Narayan Mandir, Bangla Sahib Gurudwara, Indira Ghandi Memorial Museum
Amritsar: Border closing ceremony in Wagah, Golden Temple, Guru-ka Langar, Akal Takht, Jubi Tree, Harmandir, Jallianwalla Bagh Memorial Park
Rishikesh: Lakshmanj temple and Kailashnanda ashram, river path to Swarg Ashram,free Ayurvedic treatment at Parmath Niketan, Bharat Mandir temple, Triveni Ghat, Hike path to Maharishi Mahesh Yogi Ashram, Nilkanth Mahadev, Pulcchatti Ashram, Hindola Khal and Kunjapuri temples

Now I know I'm not going to have time to see everything I'd like to, but damned if I'm not going to try to. 
I can't wait to start taking pictures; I've been practicing a lot with my D90 and loving the results (test shots are on Facebook). 

Well, gotta run: so little to do and so much time.  Wait, strike that.  Reverse it.  Okay, moving on to the next item on my to-do list...

When I started typing I was frustrated about booking trains, but now I'm excited again!

I'm having a pretty hard time booking train tickets on the Indian Rail Authority's website.  It's declined my credit card a couple of times, but CITI says that there's no record of a charge even being attempted... Here's hoping this gets figured out soon because I want to have my tickets lined up in the next couple of days.  One thing I did manage to do today, however, is buy travel insurance.  So now I'm set if I get sick or robbed!  Cheerful thought, right?  And it's good for the next year, so anywhere I go outside of Singapore I'm considered "on vacation" and am totally covered, baby.

I spent a ton of time looking at train schedules today and think I have a clear idea of how much ground I can reasonably cover on this trip.  I've rearranged my itinerary a lot, and just today I cut out 3 side trips I had planned and allotted the time to other cities.  I do NOT want to feel rushed in Rishikesh and now have a day set aside for yoga classes and meditation.  It sounds heavenly. 

I can even stay overnight in Amritsar now and do a few seriously cool things: watch the Indian/Pakistani border closing ceremony, sleep with the Sikh pilgrims in a gurudwara, see the sun come up over the Golden Temple and take a quick trip into Pakistan, to Lahore.  And don't worry, I'll be there all of 5 hours; I'll be fine.  Even with all of that I still managed to add a day to my time in Varanasi and still have an empty day floating around waiting to be used at Jaipur or Bharatpur.  Sweeeeet.

On Thursday I go get my travel Visa and another big piece of the puzzle falls into place.  I've got a few small things to buy and I'll do a practice pack this weekend so things are looking good!

I AM SOOOOO EXCITED!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Change in Plans Already?!

I haven't even made it to India yet and already I have to change my plans.  Turns out Gangotri, this pilgrim's retreat at the source of the Ganges, is closed.  Yes, the whole city, I checked.  Apparently there's some issue with snow or something.  Whatever, it's just the Himalayas in December, come on people.

So now I have a few extra days on my hands.  I've already decided to spend an extra day in Amritsar and Rishikesh, which leaves me 2 days to either explore other cities longer or get really, really sick (something that obviously didn't fit into my tight schedule earlier).

Although, I've already decided I'm not getting sick, so it sounds like I'll have an extra day for a camel trek through the desert or to sit and read outside the Taj Mahal.  Screw stomach flu.  I reject your reality and substitute my own.