Delhi Belly

Even though I was riding on a local bus back to Delhi last Tuesday, I thought the trip would still end at some sort of actual bus terminal.  During the final half hour or so of the ride, whenever someone wanted to get off the bus, the driver would just sort of slow down without really stopping so they could jump out along the side of the road. This should have been my warning sign.  When we finally arrived at our destination, the driver just stopped on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere.  I probably could have gotten off the bus a few stops sooner, but throughout the whole trip I'd really had no idea where were were at any given point.

Once I got off the bus, I was so tired and sick that I just hopped into the first rickshaw waiting in line.  I begrudgingly agreed to pay the fare he was asking even though I was being totally ripped off and he wasn't willing to negotiate.  The ride to the hostel was freezing cold since the rickshaw was completely unenclosed.  Also, as we got closer, it became clear that the driver didn't actually know exactly where he was going.  I was no help since everything looked totally different in the dark and without a million cars around.  The driver didn't have a phone so in the end I had to make a roaming call to the hostel from my phone so they could give him directions.  Once we finally arrived I gave the driver 50 fewer rupees than agreed upon since he had gotten us lost.  In spite of that, I still paid more than I should have.  Gotta love being a foreigner.

After sleeping in quite a bit the following morning, I went to one of the "newer" sections of New Delhi in pursuit of my continuing efforts to digitize the tapes onto my computer.  My new plan was to try to get a Firewire 800 cable so that I could connect my video camera to my new laptop.  When I got out of the subway, I first went to get a pizza at Sbarro since I was still living in fear of eating Indian food.  That turned out to be a mistake since I ended up getting a bad case of heartburn possibly related to my earlier stomach problems.  After eating, I headed toward the computer stores, many of which were decorated for Christmas helping to get me a bit more in the holiday spirit.  I kept striking out at store after store, though, I was getting closer as each unsuccessful shopkeeper tried to direct me to the correct place to go.  Just when I was about to give up, the last shopkeeper I asked told me to go down a hallway on the second floor.  This small storefront turned out to be essentially a "cable" shop.  They had the cable I needed that would connect my camera to the computer, though I still wasn't sure if my camera was compatible with the new version of my editing software.  I decided to take the risk and bought the cable.

I was still weak from my food poisoning and on the train to get to the stores had actually felt faint from standing up until some other passengers noticed and offered me their seats.  On the way back it was no  different, only this time it was more crowded even on my all-women's car since it was the middle of rush hour.  As we were approaching the stop where I had to change lines, I literally thought I was going to pass out.  Thankfully the women who were standing nearby ushered me to a seat and offered me bottles of water.  One woman, in particular, was especially helpful, offering to get me medical help.  At first I refused, but then decided it might be a good idea so I let her help me up to the first aid station.  The woman, who was studying to be a doctor, stayed with me for more than 20 minutes and even brought me back down to the platform with the station managers to make sure I got a seat on my next train.    The good samaritan waited until the train pulled away before leaving to go about her own business.  It meant so much to me that she was so caring to a complete and utter stranger.  l'll never forget her kindness.  She is going to make a great doctor some day.  Once I got to my final destination, there was a wheelchair waiting for me and I felt there was no way I could refuse to get in it.  Still I looked immensely silly being wheeled up in the elevator and even more so after I was unceremoniously ditched by the exit turnstiles to walk out of my own accord.

On Thursday, I spent the whole day just relaxing at the hostel, writing postcards and loading the music video footage onto my computer (the cable worked!)  Apparently I had selective amnesia when I left this hostel the first time, because I had forgotten about the construction work that was going on for more than 12 hours a day right next door.  It was loud and dusty (and the night before I saw a rat... a RAT not a mouse... scurry from the kitchen counter into a hole in the floor), but I was still so sick that I couldn't be bothered to find a more suitable place to spend the day.  The internet was even down for most of the afternoon so I had to go to an internet cafe to print out my plane ticket.  At about 12:30am, I took a taxi to the airport where I hoped to catch some sleep before my 5:30am flight to Jordan.

I'm not going to lie to you--by the time I left, I was quite ready to move on from India.  I honestly didn't have the easiest time there and not just because I got sick.  I had quite a hard time dealing with all the people, pollution and noise.  Of course there were some amazing sites--the Ganges and the Taj Mahal, among them, and I made some great memories.  However, the sensory overload was just too overwhelming for me that point in my travels when I was feeling tired, burned out and homesick.  I'm not saying I would never go back to India, but if I did I think it would have to be part of a much shorter trip.

The Golden Triangle

I arrived in Agra from Varanasi a week ago Saturday and went directly to my hostel by rickshaw to take a good long nap since I hadn't gotten very much sleep on the train the night before.  When I woke up I considered going to check out the Agra Fort since I wasn't planning to go to the Taj Mahal until the following day, but in the end I just stayed around the hostel and took it easy.  That night at dinner I met two American brothers, Marty and Daniel, and another American guy, Siyan, who was traveling with a German woman, Maya, whom he had met earlier in Delhi.

Siyan and Maya had been to the Taj Mahal that day so I made plans to meet up with Daniel and Marty early on Sunday morning to catch the sunrise at the tomb. Initially I had my dorm room to myself but just before 11:00 at night, an Australian guy showed up and shared his own train tale, which sounded even more nightmarish than mine.  His train was supposed to leave from Varanasi at 10:00pm on Friday night and arrive in Agra at 6:00am on Saturday morning, but it was delayed until 8:00am and didn't arrive in Agra until 10:30pm on Saturday night.  I guess I didn't have it quite so bad after all.

On Sunday morning the plan was to wake up at about 6:30am to see how foggy it was and then decide whether or not to go for sunrise or wait until later.  I met the guys and though there was a bit of fog, we decided since we were already up and dressed, we might as well make our way over.  Once we got to the Taj Mahal, Daniel and Marty wanted to hire a guide and I grudgingly agreed though in the end he did give us some decent information.  When we first walked through the gate, you couldn't even see the tomb since it was completely shrouded in a thick haze, but as we walked closer it began to gradually emerge from the fog.  It was actually really cool and almost mystical, even though the sunrise itself wasn't really all that remarkable because of the weather.  I have to say that the Taj Mahal really is one of those monuments that you think might be overrated, but in actuality totally does not disappoint.  We ended up sticking around for another few hours after our tour ended and got some really good photos once the fog lifted and the visibility improved.

After leaving the Taj, we met back up with Siyan and Maya at the hostel and all went together to the train station where Daniel, Marty and I bought "standing room" train tickets for Jaipur so we could join Siyan on his trip there that night.  We then went to the Agra Fort, a walled brick city that was first mentioned in 1080AD.  It was massive with many different palaces, mosques and courtyards spread out over 94 acres.  It was the spot where the son of Shah Jahan, who built the Taj Mahal for his third and favorite wife, imprisoned his father when he took over in a coup in the 1650s.  It is rumored that Shah Jahan died in a tower with a marble balcony that overlooked his masterpiece, the Taj Mahal.

There was still more of the complex to see, but after a few hours Daniel, Marty and I were so hungry and tired that we left to go get some food.  Siyan and Maya stayed behind to look around and we met up with Siyan back at the hostel to catch our late afternoon train to Jaipur.  Maya was volunteering in Delhi so she had to get her train to go back up there after the weekend.  Luckily, there were no other passengers sitting in the sleeper seats where Siyan had a confirmed ticket so after we boarded the train we were able to pay a little bit extra and buy the tickets next to him.

We arrived in Jaipur, which is the capital of Rajasthan and the third city that makes up the Golden Triangle of India along with Agra and Delhi, just after 10:30 at night.  On the short ride over to the hotel we could already tell that Jaipur seemed cleaner and nicer than Varanasi, Agra and Delhi.  Our hotel was also really nice with a huge room that the four of us shared.  After our less-than-stellar accommodations in Agra, we were all pleasantly surprised.

On Monday morning, Daniel, Marty, Siyan and I went to the Amber Fort about 11 kilometers outside of Jaipur. This opulent palace complex made of red sandstone and marble is even more impressive than both the Agra Fort and the Red Fort in Delhi.  There were so many towers and winding hallways that at one point Siyan and I lost Daniel and Marty for about half an hour until we all met up outside the exit.  Earlier we had all been mobbed by a group of Indian young men who wanted their photos taken with the "foreigners."  It took over ten minutes before we were all able to successfully extricate ourselves.  One the way back to town, we stopped to take photos of a really cool castle that sat immersed in water in the middle of a large lake and was thus completely inaccessible.

Once we got to Jaipur we had our rickshaw drivers drop us off at a restaurant that was recommended in one of our guidebooks.  It was a bit pricey, but we all decided to splurge on a nice meal and ordered four thali platters (the guys got chicken and I got vegetarian.)  The food was pretty good, but there was so much of it that by the end we were all pretty full.  Even still, I decided that I had room for dessert so I went to the place next door to get ice cream while Daniel and Siyan went to get haircuts.  I met them and Marty at the barbershop and then the four of us went to walk around a nearby bazar.  After a little while my stomach started to feel funny, but I continued to wander around with everyone until most of the shops started to close.

When we tried to get a rickshaw to get to the hotel, none of the drivers were willing to give us a decent price.  We started walking back to the main road and finally found someone who was willing to bargain a tiny bit.  There was already a passenger in the rickshaw and since there were four of us, Daniel and Syan were relegated to the back section, which is normally reserved for luggage.  The guy was driving so fast and erratically that poor Daniel and Syan were getting knocked all over the place.  When the other passenger got out, they moved to the backseat, but the journey was still a long way from being over.  It turns out the driver didn't actually know where our hotel was even though he kept insisting over the phone to the guy at our hostel that he knew exactly where it was.  He would pull up to a place and say, "yes?" and all of us would exasperatedly shout, "no!"  By the time we finally arrived I was really not feeling well and we were all so frustrated that we only gave him about half of the agreed upon fare, which was still a fair price.  The driver started to yell and come after us as we walked toward our hostel, but we just kept on walking and luckily the workers at our hostel backed us up.

Upon getting into our room, I immediately laid down on my bed, but didn't stay there long.  I had to run to the bathroom where I violently threw up everything I had eaten for dinner.  I went back to my bed while Marty packed up his stuff to catch a night bus to Udaipur.  For the next few hours I was in and out of the bathroom every 20 minutes or so either throwing up or on the toilet.  Marty had already left, but Siyan and Daniel were very sweet, asking if there was anything they could do to help.  At one point, I said in a very calm voice that I would like them to take a sharp knife, slice my throat and allow all the blood to slowly drain from my body.  I was completely serious.  I clearly had food poisoning, but I was surprised that no one else seemed to be suffering since we had all had the same food at dinner.  I was eventually able to fall asleep until 4:00am when Daniel's alarm accidentally went off.  Apparently at that point he got out of bed and threw up in the bathroom himself.  Then when he got up at 7:00am to head to the bus station, he got sick again.  He decided to take a later bus or train and went back to bed.  Later in the morning, Siyan had some GI problems, but he had already been suffering from some issues even before dinner.  It sounds like Marty had some minor problems when he got off his bus too, but luckily he didn't get sick during the trip.

We were supposed to check out of our room by 11:00am, but I was able to talk the hotel workers into letting us stay for an extra hour.  All that Daniel and I were able to eat was dry toast, but Siyan was well enough to eat a full breakfast.  He then left to go sightseeing while Daniel and I hung around until we had to leave to go up to Delhi.  Daniel had changed his bus to 5:00pm and my train was scheduled for 4:30pm.  When I got to the train station, I discovered that I had accidentally deleted the ticket confirmation from my phone and I had to go all the way back to the hotel to restore the message with my seat information.  Daniel was still there and I almost decided to try to take a bus with him instead, but against my better judgment I went back to the station.  I made it just on time, but there was no indication as to when the train was supposed to arrive.  I finally found a station manager who told me with a completely unironic smile on his face that it was going to arrive three hours late.  Since I already would be arriving pretty late into Delhi, I basically said screw it and decided to take a bus.  However, instead of taking me to the tourist bus station, the rickshaw driver brought me to the local bus station.  I was so sick and tired that I decided just to go on the local bus, which was essentially the equivalent of a school bus in terms of comfort.  Of course the bus ride that was supposed to take five hours instead took eight and at one point we were stopped in traffic that didn't move an inch for about half an hour.  That's another ride that I don't think I ever need to relive.

The Sacred Ganges

Two weeks ago I flew from Kathmandu to Varanasi, one of the oldest cities in India.  It is considered a holy city for Hindus, Buddhists and Jains.  Hindus ritually bathe in the sacred River Ganges which flows through the town and bring their dead there to be cremated in the ghats along the water's edge.

Upon landing at the brand new airport (which incidentally has no currency exchange booths or international ATM machines... ummm, what?) I took a taxi through the crazy, traffic-congested streets to my hotel in the center of the city.  I arrived late in the afternoon and was still tired from my trek and the cold I was fighting so I basically just got some food and hibernated in my room all night with a book.

The next day I slept in late and then ventured down to the river for the first time.  I had to walk through the jam-packed market area to get to the main ghat and then headed north along the river toward the main burning ghat.  All along the way, there were holy men and regular Hindus in various states of undress bathing in the water.  It was a bit chilly and the water appeared rather dirty (the river is apparently among the five most polluted in the world) so I'm not quite sure how they could handle it.  I guess to them it's a part of their religion so I have no place to judge.  I just know that I couldn't imagine going for a swim in the water, though I did at one point put my hands in to satisfy a request from my friend, Jay.  I also then immediately went back to the hotel and washed them.

I continued to walk along the river until I got to one of the burning ghats where I sat on a set of steps to rest for a while until a random Indian man came over and told me (and another foreign couple) that the steps were reserved for the family of the dead.  The other couple didn't move, but I decided that whether or not what he said was true, I should air on the side of caution and get up so I didn't show any disrespect.  As I walked up into the narrow alleyways that border the river,  I was amazed at the constant stream of bodies that were being carried into the cremation area.  They were all covered in fancy cloths so you couldn't see anything too revealing, though, you could make out the impression of feet sticking up at the end.

After leaving the riverfront, I found my way almost accidentally to the Brown Bread Bakery, which is an organic cafe that caters to foreigners, but also raises money for a school that the owners run for poor children in Varanasi.   I had a late lunch there and then found my way back to the riverfront to walk down toward the south.  I stopped at the Lotus Lounge Cafe, a nice little ex-pat oasis overlooking the water, and enjoyed a smoothie as the sun started to set.   I then walked back along the river and caught most of the nightly Hindu ceremony that takes place at the main Dasaswamedh Ghat near the road to my hotel.  Before going back, I dropped off some tapes to be dubbed onto DVD since I had little success with my first attempt in Kathmandu.  There are frequent power cuts in Varanasi at night so I didn't try to venture out again after dark, though I did have to dart around the corner in the pitch black to drop off my video camera at the dubbing place.  The streets are so dirty and filled with holy cow poo that I was lucky I didn't step in anything unfortunate (or get hit by a moto zooming down the alleyway.)

The following morning, I got up before dawn to take a sunrise boat trip along the river.  It was so foggy that there didn't actually end up being an actual sunrise, but it was still cool to see the riverfront emerge into the daylight.  Even at 6:00am, there were people bathing and washing clothes at the water's edge.  Trust me when I say that it really was cold there at that time of day.  I can't even stand to take a cold shower in that weather, but I guess that most of the locals are just used to it.

After the boat ride, I went on a tour of some of the major Hindu temples in town with one of the guys who ran my hostel.  We went first to the new Kashi Vishwanath Temple, which is on the campus of Banaras Hindu University.  The campus, along with most of the waterfront, seemed to be one of the few calmer places in the city.  From there, we went by moto to the Durga or "Monkey" Temple, which (hence its name) is heavily populated by monkeys of all shapes and stripes.  The third stop was the Tulsi Manas Temple, which is dedicated to the Lord Rama and tells the story of his life in engravings all around the walls.  At the fourth and final temple, I committed two faux pas--first when I tried to put my shoes off to the side to avoid paying the stupid fee to have someone watch them (if I'm willing to take the risk of someone stealing them, why should I have to pay to put my shoes next to some random old guy?), but the random old guy chastised me and had a little boy move the shoes near him anyways--then second, when I tried to walk up onto an altar that was apparently reserved for Hindus or holy people or some other such thing that wasn't really made very clear to me.  Anyways, I have to say that Hinduism is one religion that I really just don't know very much about or quite understand.  Because of that lack of knowledge, I'm just not quite sure what to make of all the pomp and ritualism (though I guess that can be said of most religions.)

Before we went back to the hotel after the tour ended, my guide brought me to the factories where they make silk mainly because he wanted to get me to buy some silk from a local merchant.  At first we weren't able to find anyone working "because it was too cold," but we finally found three people adding some decorations to cloth on a loom, which we watched for a total of about 30 seconds.  We then went into the showroom, where the salesman tried to tempt me with all manner of pashminas and scarves.  I politely looked, but steadfastly refused to be swayed into a purchase since I hate being given the hard sell on a tour for which I paid good money.  After finally being convinced that I wasn't buying, my guide brought me back to the hotel and I spent the rest of the afternoon at the Lotus Lounge, relaxing and taking advantage of the free wifi to work on my computer.  That night I learned that the guy at the dubbing studio wasn't able to transfer the tapes because they use PAL in India instead of NTSC.  There was a lot of back and forth with him over the course of two days and I know that he tried his very best to figure out a solution, but it left me back at square one with no way to digitize my footage.  It was yet another setback in my efforts to finally finish editing my co-teacher Barley's music video.

On my final day in Varanasi, I had booked a two-hour group yoga class at a studio near the Brown Bread Bakery.  There were about five other women in the class all of whom were also tourists.  I was still battling my cold so I had brought a whole roll of tissues and frequently had to stop to blow my nose.  The first hour and 40 minutes of the class went relatively well until we started to do back bends.  For some reason, whenever I am upside down for an extended period of time in a yoga pose, I start to feel dizzy and nauseous. This time was no exception and when I started to not feel well I decided to take a break and lie down for a while.  The hardcore Hindi yoga instructor (who had claimed at the beginning of class that it was okay if we had to modify any pose so as not to overextend ourselves) immediately started barking at me and giving me alternate poses from everyone else. After a few minutes, I wanted to try to rejoin the rest of the group, but he kept telling me to do something different.  Since I wasn't feeling well and had been dealing with a bit of loneliness over the prior few days with the holidays approaching, I started to quietly cry.
 
Apparently Indians don't show their emotions and don't know what to do with those who do so of course the instructor's response was, "you don't need to cry," even though he had no idea about what I was actually crying over (I can tell you that it wasn't my inability to do yoga.)  For some reason I couldn't stop the tears and at the end of the class my other classmates kindly showed their concern and asked if I was okay.  I kind of broke down and told them that I was really homesick after five month's of travel.  They tried to comfort me as we walked down toward the street and then as we were getting ready to part ways, I suddenly had another wave of nausea and had to sit down on the stoop.  One of the women offered to walk me back to the hotel, but after a few minutes I felt better and was able to walk by myself, though it was nice they were so understanding.

In the afternoon I just rested at the hotel until I had to get ready to catch my night train to Agra.  However, there was one catch with catching my train, which is that I didn't actually have a seat on said train.  Trains in India routinely book up days ahead of time so by the time I bought my ticket I was number twelve on the waiting list.  However, I had been told by multiple people (including the owner of my hotel) that if you just show up at the train station and give the ticket collector some money (Bakshish), they will find you an empty seat.  I decided to take a risk because I had no other way to get to Agra at that point.

When I got to the station I met a couple from New Zealand who had waitlisted ticket for a second class car and confirmed tickets for a sleeper (lowest class) car and were also going to try to talk their way into the second class car.  When the train arrived, the only conductor I could find was all the way on the front car and he didn't speak English.  He looked at my ticket and gestured toward the other end of the train so I jumped onto the first second class car I could find where I was reunited with the couple from New Zealand.  As the train rolled away, I made the split second decision to stay on board and just take my chances.  It so happened that all of the ticket collectors were gathered in our car and as I saw them going through the train roster I realized it was too late for a bribe and I was instead going to have to play totally dumb.  When they asked for my ticket, I gave them the waitlisted version and pretended I had no idea I didn't have an actual booked seat.  Since none of the conductors spoke English they had to bring over an Indian tour leader to explain everything to me.  He told me that there was no one in my seat until we arrived in Lucknow, but once we got there someone was going to come on board so they had nowhere to put me.  There was some insinuation I might have to get off the train in Lucknow, which unfortunately would be happening at about 12:00 midnight.  The tour guide tried to assure me that the conductors were doing everything they could to figure out a possible solution, but I still turned on the waterworks a bit to try to prove to them I wasn't totally bluffing.  The Kiwi couple, meanwhile, also seemed to be taking the "playing dumb" angle with regards to their waitlisted tickets, but eventually they were ousted to the sleeper car.  I kind of felt bad because I was able to stay where I was, but they at least knew they had confirmed seats all the way to Agra.

As we started to approach Lucknow at close to 2:00am (the train was running late), one of the conductors came over and said it was the next stop and I was going to have to leave my seat.  Again, it was insinuated that I might have to get off the train, but when it stopped no one told me to leave so I just stayed where I was while everyone else got on board.  No one immediately claimed my bunk, but a group of girls who were clearly on their way to a wedding asked me to switch seats with one of them so they could all be together. I was happy to oblige, but I tried to explain the seat wasn't actually mine.  They said that was fine, but then the attendant in our car came over and told them in Hindi why it wasn't possible.  After another few minutes, the Indian tour guide and one of the conductors came over to tell me I had lucked out because a passenger in Lucknow had neglected to show up.  I had to move to a third class car, but I had a seat for the rest of the trip to Agra.  I paid for the Lucknow to Agra portion and the tour guide told me the give the conductor a bit extra for the first half of the trip.  I ended up paying just a tiny bit more than the face value of the ticket.

At 10:30am--four and a half hours after our scheduled arrival time--the train rolled into Agra and my stowaway Indian train adventure came to end.  However, I learned my lesson and don't think I will ever try to pull a fast one like that again.

Kathmandu Calling

I’m not going to lie to you.  I think the Everest trek was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my entire life.  It wasn’t so much physically the hardest--running the NYC Marathon probably takes that honor--but unlike the marathon, I couldn’t go home after 4 1/2 hours and take a hot shower (or cold ice bath as the case may be.)  Of course, it also was a physical challenge as we were sometimes climbing up and downhill for six or seven hours a day, but it was much more than that.  It was a huge emotional challenge dealing with freezing cold nights, a lack of showers after sweating all day with nothing to wear but dirty clothes that couldn’t be washed and dried on time.  By the final few days of the trek I was ready to get back down to Kathmandu.  The last two nights I actually had strange, non-sequitur dreams I was back home that made me really homesick when I woke up and found myself actually lodged in an ice cold snow-capped mountain range.  I was quite happy when we made it down a few days early and were able to get a flight back to the city where I figured I would be able to rest and recover.

Once I made it to Kathmandu it wasn’t all sunshine and roses as I had hoped.  It was still quite cold at night (though not as cold as the mountains) since the guesthouse where I was staying had no heat.  It wasn’t too bad outside in the sun during the day, but the rooms inside didn’t capture any heat at all to keep them warm at night.  I was able to take a warmish shower the first day I got back, but as the hot water was controlled by solar power, I didn’t even bother to try for a shower the other three days I stayed there.  The city was also dealing with increasingly lengthy power cuts of up to five or six hours every day.  Even though the hostel had a generator, it often didn’t last through the outage and there were quite a few candlelit dinners and dark nights in our room.  Of course Kathmandu continued to go on at the same frenzied pace out on the street with cars constantly honking and motor bikes whizzing by.  It really made me appreciate the basic amenities we take totally for granted back home.

Luckily the woman who ran the guesthouse, Sarita, was very hospitable and welcoming.  The first two days that I was back, she took me and some of the other guests sightseeing around the city.  The first day we went to the Swayambhu Stupa, which is one of the most sacred Buddhist sites in the country.  Like the Batu Caves in Kuala Lumpur, there were tons of monkeys all over the grounds and no lack of people either since it was the day of the monthly full moon festival.  Afterward we went to a hill village just outside Kathmandu where there were more Buddhist and Hindu temples.  The following day we went to the Boudha Stupa, which is a very important site for Tibetan Buddhism in Nepal.  Many monks and villagers from the Himalayas come on pilgrimages to worship at the temple.  We then went to a Hindu crematorium, but since it was a bit pricey to get in, we decided we could do without seeing dead bodies being burned.  I was still not feeling well, dealing with both my head cold and stomach problems so I went home early while a group of Thai tourists went with Sarita into the city center.

I spent my last two days in Kathmandu running errands such as sending a package home for Christmas, selling my hiking boots and trying to get some tapes dubbed onto DVD so that I can start to edit them.  With my new computer I no longer have the correct cable to connect my video camera to the computer so I currently have to find other ways to digitize video.  It turned out not to be a success in Kathmandu because when I went to pick up the tapes before leaving for India, the guy at the store told me he didn’t have HD capabilities.  I’m currently trying to get it sorted now in Varanasi.

I had originally planned to take a bus and/or train from Kathmandu to Varanasi, India, on Tuesday, but when I learned I would have to either take two 10-12 hour buses or two buses and a train, I opted to spring for the one-hour flight instead.  I figured since I wasn’t feeling that great, spending 30 hours on public transit would do little to help that situation.  In the end I feel it was the right decision, though I did have a bit of a scare when I arrived at the airport 1 3/4 hours before my flight only to see it listed on the board as leaving at 1:15pm instead of the scheduled 2:25pm.  Until (and even after) I got into the airport (there was a line outside to get through security) and got my boarding pass I thought my flight was leaving in half an hour.  Fortunately the board was clearly wrong as the flight did not depart until 2:30pm.  Given my luck with international flights, an incorrect departure time was the last thing I needed to see upon arriving at the airport.

I've just posted some photos from the first half of my trek if you want to check them out.  I will try to post some more soon.  I don't get wifi at my hostel in Varanasi so I am currently camping out at a restaurant and fear I may have overstayed my welcome.

Trekking: Dingboche-Everest Base Camp-Lukla

Day 7: Sunday, December 4, 2011

Dingboche-Loboche (4928m)

It was a long uphill climb between Dingboche and Loboche.  It was windy and I had a really bad headache by the time we made it to the top at 4928 meters.  To be honest, I was also feeling a bit dizzy and had visions of being choppered down with severe altitude sickness.  You see and hear helicopters all day long while trekking and apparently there are something like 20 rescues a day.  I didn't exactly let on to my guide quite how bad I was feeling, but I could see him giving me looks from across the dining room at the lodge. He told me to order garlic soup and take half a Diamox pill (for altitude sickness.)  I was also having some stomach issues most likely from the tap water I had started drinking to save money (and plastic bottles), but was only treating with chlorine drops.  About an hour later, I was feeling much better and was even able to walk down to see a stranded helicopter that had "crashed" on take-off a few days before while trying to rescue an overweight Australian man (no one was hurt.)  I chatted that afternoon with a British guy named Mark who told me about his friend, Ben, who had ridden by motor bike from India to Kathmandu.  I told him I had overheard someone in the line for immigration at the airport talking about his friend who had ridden up from India.  We then realized that Mark and the "guy at the airport" were one in the same.  I felt like a total stalker who knew his whole life story.  Too funny.  I also meet Brady from Portland and his British friend, Jake, who he met volunteering at an orphanage in Kathmandu.

Day 8: Monday, December 5, 2011

Loboche-Gorka Shep-Kala Patther-Everest Base Camp (5364m)

Today was the big long day.  We first walked from Loboche up to Gorka Shep at 5140 meters and left our bags at a lodge there.  Along the way, we ran into Donna from New Zealand who was coming back down after going to Kala Pather and base camp the previous day.  After stopping for tea, we hiked straight uphill to Kala Patther at 5545 meters to get the best views of Everest of the trek.  We also had 360-degree views of all the mountains in the surrounding range from the very tippy top.  It took us about 1.5 hours to go up and a little less than an hour to come down.  As we approached the top and I could see the mountains on the back side of Kala Patther, all I could say was "wow."  After summiting, we came back down to the lodge to have lunch.  My guide really didn't want to go all the way to base camp, saying it was eight kilometers there, another eight kilometers back in the wind and you couldn't even see Everest when you got there.  He also told me it would take 5.5 to 6 hours so we would be coming back in the dark.  Donna had said that it was really worth seeing and since I had come all this way, I told Chandra that I was going to go even if he didn't want to come.  In the end, he accompanied me (it only took us three hours back and forth by the way) and I was really glad I went.  Since it was late in the season there of course weren't any expedition tents set up, but there were really cool ice formations on the glacier leading to the foot of the mountain.  When we got back to the lodge that night I was talking with a German trekker who called the spot the "tourist base camp" saying he'd walked farther along to the real camp where he could see the remains of one of the kitchens from the hiking season.  That may be true and I'm sure if I'd had more time I could have explored more, but I'm still glad I got as far as I did.

Day 9: Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Gorak Shep-Pangboche (3930m)

After a very cold and mostly sleepless night at nearly 5200 meters in Gorak Shep, we headed back down to Pangboche.  My nose was still all stuffed up and my cough seemed to have returned, but luckily were heading down to an area with more oxygen.  It was mostly downhill and we had made it to the village of Pheriche by lunch, but we decided to keep walking another two hours (up and downhill) to Pangboche where it was supposedly a little bit warmer.  On the way, we passed the four Australian med students on their way up and also saw Mark and Ben also making their way down.  Walking along the first half of the course that the Everest Marathon participants had followed, I was still in awe of their ability to actually run on that unsteady and hilly terrain without any apparent route markers or aid stations.  When we made it to Pangboche, we were the only ones staying at our lodge that night and I had a bit of an uncomfortable conversation with my guide, Chandra, about the cost of his flight to and from Lukla.  He had told me previously that it was in fact HE who paid for the flight as opposed to the trekking company.  I told him again that I had been under the impression the company paid for the flight since I was supposed to be on a group tour with another guide who was already in Lukla.  I also confirmed that I had given the agent about a quarter of the flight fee in US dollars and told Chandra he should get that money from the agent if he had indeed paid for his own flight.  It was really an issue between him and the trekking company, but I felt stuck in the middle as the "rich American" who was being too stingy with her money.  Needless to say, I went to bed feeling a bit unsettled needlessly.  On the upside, I was able to take my first shower in five days!  Too bad all the clothes I had to change into were still dirty.

Day 10: Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Pangboche-Namche Bazar (3930m)

On the second day of our descent we walked all the way down from Pangboche to Namche Bazar.  The first part was mostly flat or downhill, then there was big uphill to Tengboche followed by a very long downhill that I remembered struggling through on the way up.  I hadn't remembered quite how long the hill was and I think if I had known how long it would go on at the time (about 1.5 hours) I never would have made it up.  The day ended with a bit of an uphill before it evened out getting into Namche Bazar.  There were quite a few people staying in our lodge, most of whom seemed to be on their way up, though I didn't really talk to any of them.  It was nice to see the guy who owned the place again as we had had some good chats before about his travels to the U.S.

Day 11: Thursday, December 8, 2011

Namche Bazar-Lukla (2840m)

We walked the final distance all the way from Namche Bazar to Lukla on the third day of our descent.  I had decided I wanted to get down early in case we had a problem getting a flight to Kathmandu and ended up being stuck in Lukla for a few days.  We had made it to Phakding by lunch and continued on the final three hours to Lukla in the afternoon.  I had forgotten that it was such a tough uphill climb right at the end since it had been a downhill walk right at the beginning on the trek on the way out.  It was interesting to pass places that I remembered seeing from the opposite direction such as "that was the place where we had tea on the second day" and "that was the rock wall we clung to to avoid getting gored by a yak horn on the first day."  It was also amazing to me how green and flowery everything was after the tree-less "moon surface" of the higher elevations.

Day 12: Friday, December 9, 2011

Lukla-Kathmandu

We were scheduled for the first flight out on Agni Air at 7:30am, but 7:30am came and went without a plane landing in Lukla due to fog and poor visibility in Kathmandu.  The two other couples staying at our lodge were scheduled on the first flight out on Tara Air at 6:30am so they received the call first to head to the airport once the first planes started arriving after 10:00am.  At about 11:30am, we got the call to go to the airport for our flight, which ended up not arriving until after 1:30pm.  At the airport, I ran into Brady and Jake who were also waiting for the same flight.  We angled our way to make sure that we got on that flight and then took off without incident shortly before 2:00pm.  We made it to Kathmandu about 25 minutes later and I was able to drop off my rented gear in Thamel before heading back to my guesthouse in the afternoon.

I've included a few additions to my previous post that I forgot to mention the other day.  If you've already read that post you may want to take a quick look back over it so you're not completely confused.  Pictures will be posted tomorrow after I get some sleep.  We had a 5+ hour blackout today in Kathmandu (power outages are a daily occurrence) so I wasn't able to get on my computer to post before dinner.

Trekking: Lukla-Dingboche

Day 1: Monday, November 28, 2011
Kathmandu-Phakding (2610m)

Walking across a deep ravine

We flew from Kathmandu to Lukla at 7:00am and then walked about two hours to Phakding at 2610 meters.  There was only one other couple - a British guy and a French girl - staying at the lodge with us.  I paid 200 rupees to take a hot shower (in an outdoor stall) because I hadn't showered in three days.  I don't really consider myself "princessy" but there is no way I could have taken a cold shower when it was so freezing outside.  Just washing my hands and dirty clothes in the cold tap water was bad enough.  My guide told me it was the last time I would have a toilet inside my room.  The lodge rooms weren't heated, but it wasn't too bad once I was inside my rented sleeping bag under a blanket.  I started to get a runny nose, which had me worried that I was coming down with a cold.

Day 2: Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Phakding-Namche Bazar (3440m)

The Sherpa capital of Namche Bazar

It was a tough climb.  We walked uphill (and across some crazy bridges) for most of the way from Phakding to Namche Bazar, the Sherpa capital of Nepal, at 3440 meters.  I had to hand wash some more clothes (mostly socks) in freezing cold water.  We arrived just after noon and planned to stay for two nights to acclimatize to the altitude.  We were the only ones at our lodge.  It was another freezing cold night without heat.

Day 3: Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Namche Bazar (rest day)
It was cloudy for most of the morning.  We stayed in Namche, but hiked up to the highest airport in the world, which was really just a landing strip.  Since the weather wasn't great there wasn't much of a view and we didn't go up any higher. The clouds cleared a bit in the afternoon so I painted a mountain scene with watercolors.  I also went down into "town" to change some money and buy a neck wrap in the Tibetan market.  We were the only ones at our lodge once again.

The "world's highest airport" shrouded in fog

Day 4: Thursday, December 1, 2011
Namche Bazar-Pangboche (3930m)
We walked about six hours from Namche Bazar to Pangboche at 3930 meters, stopping for lunch in the village of Tengboche with its famous monastery.  It was about one and a half hours of uphill climbing before we made it to Tengboche.  It was pretty brutal.  At our lodge in Pangboche I met a British mother and daughter, Shirl and Flo, who were on their way back down.  They scared me with tales of medical centers and oxygen treatments in Gorak Shep.  I paid for another hot shower, my first shower in three days (and last for five days.)  My cold had morphed not only into just a stuffy nose, but also a hacking cough.  I started to worry that if I didn't get much better soon I would have trouble getting enough oxygen at higher elevations.

Taking a breather

Day 5: Friday, December 2, 2011
Pangboche-Dingboche (4410m)

A runner in the Everest Marathon

It was only about a two-and-a-half hour walk from Pangboche to Dingboche.  On the way, we watched runners from the Everest Marathon come down along the path from Gorak Shep en route to the finish line in Namche Bazar.  The first runners were Nepalese (who are obviously able to train in the mountains) and all of the Westerners trailed behind.  I made sure to cheer for every single one of the runners we passed whether they wanted me to not because I knew exactly what they were going through and there were no other spectators along the course aside from the trekkers.  I admit I did feel kind of lame huffing and puffing just walking along the path while they were all running the same route, though obviously in the opposite direction.  I suppose I had my cold partially to blame since I was still going through about a packet of tissues a day.  Once we arrived in Dingboche, I washed some clothes in a stream in front of our lodge because there was no running water up that high.  I met Donna from New Zealand who was finishing up a seven-month trip through South America and Southeast Asia.  I recognized Donna from our flight up to Lukla so she was on the same pace as us, but was forgoing a second "acclimatization day" and heading up higher the following day.

Day 6: Saturday, December 3, 2011
Dingboche (rest day)

Hiking with yaks near Dingboche

We had a second rest day in Dingboche to acclimatize, but spent the morning walking up and down a nearby "hill."  We never made it to the top, if there was a top, but after my guide told me the view didn't get any better if we went any higher, we just arbitrarily decided to head back down after about two hours of climbing to 4800 meters.  That night we met a group of four Australian medical students - three guys and one woman - who had just arrived at our lodge and were thus one day behind our schedule.

My hands are now freezing cold (that whole "no heat" thing) and it's about time to order dinner.  I will finish up the second half of the trek once I make it down to Kathmandu in another day or two.  Plus I will post pictures at that time once I'm back on my own computer (I only took about 300 or 400... haha - half kidding).

Trekking to Everest

So, mid-trek I am actually able to get on-line from a computer in my lodge.  The owner is letting me use his laptop, but unfortunately I am not able to upload any photos.  I will try to get on wifi in another village so that I can e-mail myself photos from my phone and add them to the post.

Once again I nearly missed an international flight on Saturday because I didn't get to the airport early enough.  In this case, I think I could have gotten to the airport in New Delhi six hours ahead of time and it still would not have been enough time.  My cab was about half an hour late picking me up for the hostel so I arrived at the airport only about an hour and a half before the flight to Kathmandu.  However, the line for check-in was so long that in half an hour I had barely moved an inch.  Luckily at that point the airline let me skip to the front of the line.  Then I had to wait to pass through immigration in a line that was just as long and also not moving.  I finally went to the "special assistance" counter and though the agent originally indicated for me to get back in line, he finally processed my passport when I pleaded with him that my flight was boarding.  The next hurdle was security.  They had to open all my bags and look through all my cameras and electronic equipment before concluding I didn't pose a threat.  The agent claimed my gate was close by, but it turned out to be on the other end of the terminal.  I just made the final boarding call, though once again I wasn't even the last person on the plane.

When I got to Kathmandu I made the stupid mistake of accidentally deleting the address to the hostel from my phone.  I knew approximately where it was so after quite a bit of inquiry, my cab driver and I found the location.  It was actually more a home stay than a hostel since the owners live in the house and cook breakfast and dinner for the guests every day.  The proprietress, Sarita, was also nice enough to bring me into downtown Kathmandu to start looking into trekking companies to book my tour.  We rode in a small tuk-tuk bus and on the way back crammed into the front seat of a somewhat larger mini-bus.  There were so many people crammed into such a small space, but I guess the people who live there are just used to it.  I had a chance to go around to about three different places to get tour rates before we had to head back for Sarita to cook dinner.  I shared the meal with an Indonesian girl who is studying in Kathmandu and a retired Dutch couple who are volunteering at a school there.  After the meal, I had about four cups of Sarita's delicious homemade chai tea.

The next morning, I went back into Kathmandu in the tuk-tuk bus (called a tempo) and started going around to more trekking agencies.  I decided to book a tour with an agency that had a group from the UK that had just left that morning, which I could hopefully catch up with.  The tour agent then took me to a trekking shop to get everything I needed to hike.  I ended up paying way more than I would have liked on boots, thermals, socks and a pair of pants.  I also rented a down jacket, a sleeping bag and those stupid hiking poles that look like cross county skiing poles that I always make fun of people for using.  The shopkeeper had to talk me into getting them and boy am I glad he did.

At about 5:00pm, I went back to the trekking agency to pick up my tickets and permits.  When I got there, the agent had some bad news.  He told me the tour group from the UK didn't want to wait for me and so I was going to be on my own with another guide.  He wanted me to pay for half of the guide's flight since that wasn't factored into the original cost.  I was pretty upset because I had wanted to go up with a group and didn't feel like paying the extra fee for him mistake.  In the end, I paid for about a quarter of the ticket price in US dollars.

Bright and early on Monday morning, I left for the airport for my flight to Lukla.  I had left about 10 minutes late and then went to the international terminal instead of the domestic one.  So I was about half an hour late to meet my guide when I finally got to the right place.  I didn't see anyone waiting for me and started to worry that he had given up on me and left.  I didn't have my airline ticket so I couldn't even go inside the terminal to see if he was there.  I thought our flight was at 6:00am and was sure I was going to miss it.  Then I started to think that maybe the guide wasn't coming at all.  I furiously thought about how I was going to back to the trekking agency to give the owner a piece of my mind that afternoon.  Then finally a guide showed up and when the security officers asked his name, he confirmed he was my guide, Chandra.  It turns out our flight was actually at 7:00am and we were supposed to meet at 6:00pm.  Crisis averted.

We flew the 23 minutes up to Lukla and safely landed at one of the most dangerous airstrips in the world (whoops Mom and Dad... forgot to mention that.)  We then hiked from Lukla up three hours to the next village where we spent the night.  The next morning we started at the crack of down for the long and strenuous hike up to Namche Bazar.  After just about five and a half hours we arrived at our lodge.  On the way, we had the chance to see Everest from afar for the very first time.  One more of the items on my "List of 25 Thing to Do Before I Die" (not to be confused with my "Top 10" list for this trip)--See Everest--has been checked off.  Today was a rest day to get acclimatized to the altitude.  We are at 3,440 feet and have about 2,000 more to go.  We went on a short hike today up to the highest "airport" in the world, but it was too cloudy to have much of a view.

I will try to write another update at some point before the end of the trek.  We should arrive at the base camp in about four more days!

Old and New Delhi

I arrived in Delhi, India at about 9:30pm on Tuesday night, which translated to 4:30am Australia time.  I was pretty exhausted when I got off my second flight after traveling for nearly 19 hours.  I had arranged an airport pick-up from my hostel so I called after picking up my luggage to tell them I had arrived.  They told me to stand outside by the big pillar next to (some word I couldn't understand).  I left the terminal and discovered that there were quite a few big pillars and they all seemed to be for taxi pick-up.  I wasn't sure how they were coming so I instead crossed the street and stood where all the passenger cars were pulling up for arrivals.

After a few minutes a man came up to me and asked me where I was going.  I told him I had someone picking me up because I figured he was trying to get to take his cab.  After a few more minutes, it appeared that my driver still hadn't arrived and I had no idea how I was going to find him in all of the traffic madness.  I bit the bullet and called on roaming charges from my cell phone (there was no pay phone outside) and was told to stand by Pillar 1.  I tried to explain that that was for bus service, but finally grudgingly crossed the street to the pillar.  Then the man who had approached me originally came toward me and I realized he must have been the right guy all along.  He brought me to a car with a driver and I took off with the two of them through the streets of Delhi.  About 10 minutes into the ride, it dawned on me that they could be kidnapping me and there was nothing I could do about it.  Even when we pulled into a parking lot that looked more like a construction site than a building complex, I wasn't sure we were in the right place.  Fortunately someone then came out of the hostel to greet us.

When I got to my six-bed dorm room I was the only one in there and I fell asleep within minutes... only to be awakened every two hours throughout the night as one after another guest arrived and turned on the light.  The fourth and last person showed up probably around 7:00am.  I guess that's the price you pay for staying in a hostel and I could always have put on my sleep mask if I'd had enough motivation.  By about 8:30am I was up for the day myself and down for breakfast in the lobby.

Following breakfast, I went with the four guys who had arrived in my room overnight to the Garden of Five Senses just down the street from our hostel.  I'm not quite sure what the five senses were exactly.  Sight I got, but the only scent I really smelled was that of food and the only sound was that of other people talking.  I touched a few plants for good measure and ate some samosas from a food stall, which I guess counts as taste.  The garden was nice, but it was so arid that it wasn't like gardens back home.  The area also seems to be a big make out spot as we kept running into couples while walking down a wooded path.  I had the most fun while sliding down a conveyor belt slide that was supposed to generate electricity, but had long since been broken.

After the garden we took the metro to an area near Old Delhi and walked to the Red Fort.  Along the way we were walking down a major road that was so jam packed with cars, tuk-tuks, food vendors and pedestrians that it was nearly impossible to get through. When we arrived at the fort we saw a massive (red) structure that is 2.5 kilometers in length.  We decided not to go inside out of protest after discovering that the local admission price was 10 Rupees and the tourist price was 25 times that at 250 Rupees.  We later learned it was the same deal for all the World Heritage sites in India.  I know that most Indians are a lot poorer than visiting foreigners so it makes sense, but still doesn't seem quite fair after we've come all that way.

We headed back early that day, enjoyed a free dinner at the hostel and then went to bed a bit early.  On Thursday, I woke up with a case of the Delhi belly, but still decided to drag myself to the Qutb Minar with about five people from my hostel.  The minaret is apparently the tallest free-standing stone tower in the world.  The Quwwat-ul-Islam Mosque right next to it was the earliest mosque built by the Delhi Sultans in the 1100s.  Given my state of distress I had a bit of trouble really getting into what I was seeing and had more fun taking pictures of the funny-looking Indian squirrels.  The thousands of school kids at the site had more fun shaking our hands and taking our pictures.  At times it was hard to tell what the main attraction was--the mosque or us gringos.

After leaving the Qutub Minar we took the subway even farther out to the Akshardham Hindu Temple on the banks of the Yamuna River.  The temple is only six years old, but it is incredibly ornate with elaborate carvings in sandstone in marble.  It only must have cost about a trillion dollars or so to build.  Security is also incredibly tight around the complex.  You can't bring in any bags or cameras so photos were obviously out of the question.  You also had to go through a full-body pat down that almost felt like it crossed the line even though it was conducted by a woman.  Since we didn't want to leave our bags at the coat check, two of the guys agreed to wait outside while the rest of us went in.  Following the temple visit, everyone else went get something to eat in the main commercial center called Connaught Place, but I was feeling so bad that I decided to go back to the hostel with one of the other guys.  We had plans to go to one of the big malls and try to find some American food to eat for Thanksgiving dinner, but my hostel mate fell asleep shortly after we got back.  I resigned myself to a free dinner of rice and gruel (as I called it mainly because I didn't know what was in it rather than that it tasted bad) at the hostel. Happy Thanksgiving to me!

On (Black) Friday, I was feeling a bit better and headed over to Connaught Place with another American girl who had just arrived the night before. We ate lunch--my first Indian meal in a restaurant--and tried to find a local bazar, which turned out to just be a bunch of cheap men's clothes.  We then sat in the park in the center of Connaught Place until we started to get weirded out by the antics of some of the men around us.  Meredith went back to the hostel and I met up with my friends, Vikas and Sarah, from New York who happened to be in town visiting Vikas' parents.  We had drinks at a "Western"-style coffee shop and then browsed at a nearby antiques market where Sarah, the interior designer, looked for some new ideas for her design work.  It was really great to see them and get another little taste of home for even a short time.

Yesterday I left for Nepal and will now be embarking on a two-week trek to the Everest Base Camp starting early tomorrow morning.  Since I don't anticipate having access to the internet and won't be bringing my computer, I'll catch you all up when I get back!

Ups and Downs

I have to admit that before and even while I was in Australia I started to get a bit homesick and road weary.  For a while I was even wandering if I could make it a full year.  Since I haven't booked the tickets for the second half of my trip yet I was starting to think I maybe I would cut it a bit short.

When I arrived in Melbourne I had a bit of a rejuvenation while staying with my first couchsurfing host because her home was so homey and comfortable (though cold).  It was also nice walking around her neighborhood with the warm, but not hot, sun shining down and the scent of spring flowers in the air.  It reminded me a bit to literally "stop and smell the roses."  I also picked up and started reading Eat, Pray, Love (a book I had not previously read and which did not, contrary to popular opinion, influence my decision to take this trip).  I only got through the "Eat" section in Italy and part of the "Pray" section in India before I moved on from that house, but it did have an influence on my view on my travels.  The entire time the author was in Italy she did not go to one museum.  She did spend a lot of time walking (and eating) her way through Rome, but she did not put pressure on herself to see and do something monumental or important each day.  She even quit her formal Italian lessons midway through upon finding it took time away from her actually getting out and speaking the language.  I was taking it easy and not doing much my first few days in Melbourne and taking in the author's perspective made me feel like this was actually okay.

Then things started to go wrong again--my computer broke, I was stressed about money in pricey Australia and constantly worried about arranging the next place I was going to stay.  My newfound zen perspective suddenly went right out the window.  Of course there were still many good moments--dressing up on Halloween, going out sailing, working on the vineyard.  And I started to get excited again about my upcoming plans just by watching Nat Geo Adventure at Lachlan and Dan's house.  And episode of "Anthony Bourdain" actually made sad I'd already come and gone from Bangkok.  By the time I got to the vineyard in Orange I was in a much better place again, having settled on a plan for the rest of my time in Australia that saved me money and allowed me to relax a bit in the beautiful countryside in spite of the five hours of daily farm work.  Meeting up with Becky back in Sydney was also a nice sense of home that made me feel like I'm not always all alone by myself out there on the road.

I realize it seems quite selfish and petty of me to be complaining about this amazing opportunity I have, but there's just no denying that it's not all sunshine and roses (see second paragraph... haha) all the time.  I know I'm still putting a lot of pressure on myself to make the most of every day and not waste a single second, but it's really hard to maintain that intensity and be "on" all the time.  I know it sounds totally silly since I don't have a job, but unlike people with jobs I don't feel like I ever have a "weekend" off.  I spend nearly every day either sightseeing, making travel arrangements/dealing with logistics back home or in transit.  Sometimes it's a little bit of all three.  As I continue on through these next eight months, one of my goals is to give myself more breaks every now and then and actually be okay with it instead of laying the guilt on myself.  We'll see how that goes!

Sydney and Melbourne, Part Deux

After five days in Orange, I headed on the train back to Sydney on Wednesday afternoon to pick up my passport and theoretically my new computer that was supposed to be shipped to my childhood friend, Becky's, house.  Becky and her husband, Anton, had offered to let me stay at their place for a few nights and also to sign for the delivery.  Since I had missed my bus, it was already dark by the time I arrived in the western suburb of Macquarie Fields where Becky lives so she graciously agreed to pick me up at the station.  I had a late dinner and we caught up a bit before heading off to bed.  Of course my computer had not yet arrived as it was supposed to on Monday since Apple claimed they weren't able to get ahold of me to "confirm" my order even though I had been responding to all their e-mails.  Apparently ordering and paying for something on-line is not good enough.  No, they actually need to hear my voice over the phone so they know I'm a real, live human person.  Or something like that.

The following day, I got the good news that my passport was ready and after spending the morning trying to sort out my computer issues (Apple finally processed my order and promised the delivery would arrive on Friday) I headed into Sydney.  I was still nervous about my visa because the website just said the "application" was ready for collection as opposed to the actual approved visa.  I can change the dates of my flights (for a fee), but not the routing so I didn't know what I was going to do if I wasn't allowed into India. I headed to the consulate first and nearly cried with relief when I was handed my dual-entry visa allowing me to leave for Nepal and then come back into India.

After picking up my passport I tried to contact the director who I had worked with on the Hong Kong shoot who lives in Sydney and Cam from Bangkok to see if they wanted to meet up.  I left a message for Paul saying I would call back and told Cam I would try to stop by the bar where he had started working near Darling Harbor.  It was rainy and grey out so instead of heading right to the bar I decided to go the Opera House and get a tour of the inside.  I caught the last tour of the day and was able to see Concert Hall, Opera Theatre and small Drama Theatre below the Concert Hall.  They were doing sound checks and starting a rehearsal for a Tim Finn concert that night so it was kind of cool to actually hear some music being played in the hall even if it was just disjointed drum and guitar riffs.

After the tour wrapped up I saw that Paul had e-mailed me to say he had been around during the day, but couldn't meet up at night since he had to leave early in the morning for a shoot.  I felt bad for not calling him back sooner, but I guess that's the price you pay for not having a cell phone.  I then headed toward Darling Harbor and tried to find the bar where Cam was working, but wasn't able to track him down.  Then my phone battery died so I couldn't even get into my e-mail to find his number again to call.  Since it was getting late I decided to head back to Macquarie Fields and call it a day.

On Friday, Becky and I waited around all morning for the computer to arrive while Anton worked on building a new retaining wall for their poll outside. By midday, the shipment tracking didn't even show that the package was on a truck so I knew there was no way it was getting there by the end of the day.  I called Apple and told them to cancel the order realizing I would have to buy the computer in Melbourne.  The woman on the phone said we should just refuse delivery when the package arrived and Apple would refund the money once it was returned.  With no need to wait around any longer Becky and I left to go to the Mount Annan Botanic Garden, which is the largest botanical garden in Australia.  It obviously features native plants, but is a bit more wild than the Royal Botanic Garden in Sydney.  We first walked along a woodland trail where we saw a pretty big monitor lizard and then went into the Big Idea Garden, which is supposed to educate people about sustainable landscaping.  Our final stop was the Water Garden where a wedding (or at least wedding photos) were in full swing.  We saw a lot of eucalyptus trees and cool-looking banksia plants.

After leaving the gardens, we went back to the house so that I could pack for my overnight bus to Melbourne.  I decided to book a bus because it was less than half as much as a last minute flight.  I knew it wouldn't be the most comfortable night sleep, but that I could make do.  Before going to the bus station, we stopped off at a hotel bar to meet one of Becky's co-workers for a drink.  We ended up rushing to make the bus, but luckily arrived with minutes to spare.  Once I boarded, the bus driver proved to be quite chatty, which got me quite worried about getting a decent night sleep.  He then put on a movie, which further added to my concern.  Once the movie ended, I had started to drift off to sleep until around 11:00pm, we stopped at a rest stop and the driver went on for about five minutes before letting everyone off the bus.  I was now really worried that he was going to make a big "to do" every time he stopped the bus.  Luckily, he quieted down and I was pretty much able to sleep until we started approaching Melbourne early in the morning.  I still crashed for a few hours once I got to my friend Lisa's house where I was staying until my flight to India.

Once I woke up in the afternoon, I went down to an Apple reseller and was pleasantly surprised to find out there was a sale going on so the Macbook I wanted was almost $100 off.  I still ended up paying a little bit more than I would have if I had gotten the education discount I had been able to get on-line, but it was better than nothing.  I spent the rest of the afternoon at the State Library of Victoria where I walked through an exhibition on post-war photography in Melbourne.

Bright and early on Sunday morning, I joined Lisa and her friend on a surfing trip down in Torquay one-and-a-half hours south of Melbourne.  Lisa loaned me a surfboard and a spare wetsuit, but I was still freezing cold once we got into the water just after 7:00am.  I learned very quickly that I am apparently no good at surfing.  The first beach we went too was a bit too calm and overcrowded so we left there and drove five minutes down the road.  This second beach had a bit more wave action, which might not have been the best thing for me.  I was able to paddle out, but was having trouble even timing it right to catch a wave.  Then at one point, as a bunch of waves broke around me, I kept getting knocked around and started swallowing a lot of water.  I was actually a bit scared and paddled back to the beach for a bit to take a bit of a breather.  I did eventually go back in, but never managed to stand on the board.  The closest I got was one time on my knees before I lost my balance and fell off.  In spite of my failure, I think I would like to try surfing again, though I definitely need some lessons.

We finished by around 9:00am because Lisa's friend had to get back to Melbourne, but in the late morning I met up with a friend I had met through Ross's roommate when I first arrived in Australia.  Toby and I drove about an hour down the beginning of the Great Ocean Road from Torquay.  Our first stop was a golf course that is always filled with kangaroos.  Of course, my camera battery was dead so I had to use my cell phone with its crappy zoom app.  The picture I got is the worst ever, but at least it proves I saw kangaroos in Australia!

After going down along the coastline, we headed back into town through the surrounding rainforest.  Toby had run a race that morning and I had also been up really early so we crashed back at his place for a few hours in the afternoon.  Then in the evening, Toby had a free ticket to a benefit for the Sea Shepherd organization, which fights against Japanese whaling in the Southern Ocean.  I decided to go along and buy my own ticket.  It was a fun night with some live music and a number of Australian celebrities who I had never heard of.  The event was held at a venue owned by a former Australian Football League player who was the MC, the Australian comedian, Dave Hughes did a stand-up set that was pretty funny and Sea Shepherd founder, Paul Watson, gave a good speech about the organization's mission.  After the fundraiser ended I stayed in Torquay for the night and then took the train back to Melbourne on Monday morning.

Before leaving Australia I tried to take care of all of the little things that I knew would be harder to do once I left the "Western" world again.  As a result, I spent Monday afternoon getting my hair cut and having couchsurfing host/computer guru, Ross, copy over my old hard drive onto the new computer so I would still have all my old data.  On Tuesday morning, Lisa's housemate was kind enough to drop me off at the airport on the way to visit his mom, but I STILL almost missed my flight.  I made the mistake of standing in the regular check-in line instead of the web check-in line (even though I had checked in on-line) because it looked much shorter.  However, it also moved much slower.  In the end I was one of the last people to check in for the flight.  Then the line for immigration was miles long.  It turns out I wasn't the only one who had issues, though, because they ended up holding the flight for some passengers who were also delayed getting to the gate.  I've got to say--this flying internationally every few weeks is not getting any easier.

An Orangewoman in Orange

I think it boded quite well that the town where I ended up going to volunteer as a WWOOFer was named Orange since I am a distinguished alumnus of the Syracuse Orange(men).  I arrived in Orange on the afternoon of November 11th via train and coach (bus).  The proprietress of Lofty Vineyard, Loretta, came to pick me up at the station and bring me back to the farm.  The vineyard is located on the top of a hillside with a beautiful panoramic view of the vines and valley below.

The first day I arrived, I was reprieved of any farm duties and was able to relax and get to know two of my fellow WWOOFers, Marylaine from Holland and George from England, once they came in from their afternoon shift in the vineyard.  That night Loretta and her husband Charlie, the winemaker, went out for dinner so Marylaine, George and I made our own pizzas out of French flatbread and a wide array of toppings.  For dessert Marylaine had made Dutch cookies which disappeared in a matter of minutes.

In general, WWOOFers work four to six hours a day on organic farms in exchange for their room and board.  At Lofty Vineyard, we worked five hours each day--generally three in the morning and two after lunch.  The rest of our afternoons were free.  When I woke up on Saturday morning, my first task was to dig a hole around a leaky pipe in the front yard so Charlie could get in there and repair it.  Loretta loaned me an old pair of paints, boots and dish gloves, but I stupidly wore my own shirt initially.  It was quite a challenge to get down to the pipe because it was next to a tree so I kept hitting tree roots and the hole continuously filled with water.  After not too long I was pretty well covered in mud and made the wise decision to change into an old shirt to finish the job.

After I finished my digging, I joined Charlie in the winery to help clean up and wash some of the work spaces.  I then spent the afternoon helping Charlie's friend, John, to pull empty barrels of the racks in the barrel room and wash them in preparation for the next batch of wine.  We had a nifty machine that Charlie had borrowed to clean out the barrels that worked kind of like a car wash.  Unfortunately some of the barrels were a bit stubbornly dirty, but we had to wait until the end of the day to clean them with hot water.    To use the hot water you had to turn on some sort of generator in the machine, which created a strong fuel smell.  We decided that was probably not the most appealing for visitors coming to taste and buy wine in the the Cellar Door tasting room next door.

I ended up working a bit long on Saturday afternoon because I didn't want to leave John by himself with the barrels.  By the end of the day, though, I was rather tired and my arms were sore from all the heavy lifting.  That night Loretta made dinner and I finally got to try some of the vineyard's wine.  Charlie poured some Chardonnay and one of his red blends, which led us to drinking long after dinner had ended.  Loretta started putting old records on the player and we listened to music until the wee hours of the morning when we finally headed to bed.  Of course, Charlie was up at 6:00am in the fields with the vineyard.  The rest of us slept till nearly 9:00.

On Sunday, I worked out in the vineyards for the first time, desuckering the plants.  This basically entailed cutting off all of the small branches and growths that were coming out of the trunks of the vines and sucking energy from the rest of the plants.  Marylaine and George had electronic clippers, but I was using manual ones so my hand was a bit tired by the end of the day.  George, who was feeling the pains of the late night, took a long siesta and ended up working in the winery with Charlie in the afternoon.

That afternoon another WWOOFer, Sarah from Germany, arrived in Orange.  She had the day off, but joined us out in the vineyard desuckering on Monday.  Then on Monday night, a fifth WWOOFer was added to the crew.  Nicolas from France made us all feel rather dense when that night at dinner he started waxing on about the percentage of oak in the wine we were drinking.  Apparently he was from a fifth generation winemaking family.  Sadly, Charlie was out of town at a conference for the week so there was no one else at the table with whom Nico could truly confer.

While I was WWOOFing, I would head out every day after work on a "kangaroo hunt" in search of Australia's famous animal.  Sarah started joining me and just about dusk we would walk to the paddock on the edge of the property to try to catch sight of the hoppers.  The first two nights we had no luck and by the third day I was ready to give up.  Then George decided he wanted us to show him the spot that Charlie had told us was the ideal place for seeing the hoppers.  We headed out yet again and paused midway down the hillside to try to see the 'roos in the valley down below.  For the first ten minutes or so it seemed as if our luck was going to be the same as before.  Then all of a sudden, George pointed to the top of the hill and said, "hey I think I see something."  At first I thought he was bluffing, but sure enough there appeared one and then two and then three kangaroos coming down through the woods.  They seemed to be watching us as much as we were watching them.  Of course, my camera chose this exact moment to stop functioning properly.  Eventually, the kangaroos made their way down to the bottom of the hill and we watched four of them hop past, though George swears there had been as many as seven at one point.  It was definitely quite a sight and once and for all dispelled my theory after the first two failed attempts that kangaroos are just a myth.

During my final day at the vineyard, Loretta agreed to let me film a short segment on WWOOFing with hopes of submitting it to the Travel Channel.  By the time I finished filming, ate lunch and went back to the vineyard to get signed releases from my fellow WWOOFers, I was running late to catch my bus back to Sydney.  Loretta drove as fast as she could to the station, but just as we were approaching we saw the bus heading out in the other direction.  It was the first time since I started traveling that I have actually missed my ride.  Luckily the nice man at the ticket counter let me exchange my bus/train ticket for the next direct train to Sydney for only the additional cost of the ticket.  On the way home, I saw dozens more kangaroos hopping off in the distance.  This time, the train was moving too fast for photos.  Despite lack of photographic evidence, I promise, they do exist!