Bikaner

We took a bumpy night train to Bikaner, a dusty desert town in Northern Rajastan. While not unknown to foreigners, it is somewhat off the main tourist trail, and the locals were absolutely fascinated by us. Walking around the old city we were bombarded with cries of "Hello!", inquiries regarding "Which country?" and requests for "One photo?". In Africa we had developed a strong suspicion of anyone who was overly friendly, but in India we have come across countless people who are genuinely curious about the strangers in their midst and it is a real pleasure to share a short conversation (or, when words fail, a game of charades) with those we meet.

Bikaner has an ancient fort, the Junagarh, and our tour around its lovely palace evoked a good sense of the majestic lives led by the Mughal emperors and Maharajahs who ruled here. Several rooms were preserved with as they had been at the time the palace was inhabited, decorated colorful paintings and ornately carved furniture, while others showcased collections of weaponry, costumes and jewellery. We were most impressed by the facial hair of the Maharajahs, with their bushy, up-turned mustaches and woolly side burns. They even used a special spoon to avoid dirtying their coiffed whiskers when slurping soup!

There are also some beautiful Jain temples in Bikaner, including one that was reputedly built with thousands of tons of ghee in the foundation. We cannot confirm the ghee, but the temple does have some colorful paintings, including a series depicting the punishments that be expected if one does not follow the so-called 12 vows. Live a chaste life, or you may be thrown naked into a swimming hole filled with serpents in the afterlife...

Gil also took a trip to Deshnok to see the Karni MataTemple, one of the more unusual temples in all of India. According to legend the rats at this temple are reincarnated story tellers from the 14th century. And, the place is indeed full of rats! This is not for the sqeemish. The rats are fed and cared for, and can be seen running all over the place, often near your bare feet (shoes must be removed at the temple entrance). Its also a very popular pilgrimage site. There was a line of devotees stretching out the door, waiting for their chance to enter the inner chamber, and be blessed among the many rats.

Jaipur

We arrived in Jaipur on Thanksgiving and decided to treat ourselves to an "expensive" (meaning over $10...) dinner out. We picked the most obscure place we could find, a revolving restaurant on the top floor of the tallest - and ugliest - building in town. I had a cold and had taken some medication in the hopes of being able to taste our meal, but it didn't mix well with spinning, so Gil was stuck finishing the many creamy and buttery dishes we had ordered on his own. Needless to say, both of us found ourselves in a proper post-Thanksgiving dinner comatose that evening.

Jaipur provides a pleasant mix of old and new India. Modern cafe chains and mobile phone centers happily share the city with classical palaces and timeworn bazaars. A walk through the old city, painted cotton-candy pink, brought us past stone carvers and bangle makers, sari sellers and tea wallas. It also brought us past several architectural wonders, like the Isawri Minar Swarga Sal minaret, which we climbed to the top of for 360 degree views. We also visited the intricately carved Hawa Mahal, which was built for the royal ladies so that they could watch the goings-on of the city below while being carefully shielded from reciprocal glances in accordance with purdah, a custom adopted by the Rajputs of Rajasthan from their Muslim brothers.

A highlight of our time in Jaipur was our visit to Jantar Mantar, the largest of the five observatories built by Maharaja Jai Singh II. The observatory contains scores of antiquated instruments used for measuring time down to the second and meticulously tracking the course of celestial objects through the sky. It was a fascinating place to explore.

The rest of our time in Jaipur was spent trying to secure a SIM card for our mobile phone, an activity that involved an unimaginable amount of red tape (and a little begging). If you give us a call, we'll know it was worth all of the hassle. UPDATE: New number in Thailand - 011 66 853646741

Agra

Gil and I are officially ready for reality TV after our trip from Varanasi to Agra.

We took a rickshaw from our hotel to the train station and soon found ourselves stuck in stand-still traffic. Having no clue how far we were from the station - but knowing we had very little time to get there - we jumped out and ran the next 2 kilometers, wielding our packs around cars, bikes, and cows with fearless determination. We were already late, but held on to the slim chance that we'd find our train in similar condition.

We made our way towards the platform (the one furthest from the entrance, of course) and frantically asked anyone and everyone who crossed our path if they knew about the train. One man shouted, "Agra? It's that one!" and animated toward the opposite track. The train was already moving and starting to pick up speed. As the last car passed in front of us, I resigned myself to staying a few more days in captivating Varanasi. But Gil would not give up so easily. He ran to catch up with the train, grabbed hold of the caboose and pulled himself through the doorway. I knew I had to follow his lead and managed to hoist myself up as well, encouraged by the cheers of onlookers. We have matching scabs on our elbows to prove it.

We found ourselves in an empty (and dark) luggage cart. I leaned around the corner to ask a man in the next car up if this was the Marauder Express and was informed, "no, it's the Jaipur Express". I immediately burst into tears. Our adrenalin was working overtime from stress and physical exertion, and now we were stuck on the wrong train!

Further down the tracks, the train came to a stop and a shot-gun brandishing police officer came to retrieve us. I wondered what sort of trouble we might be in for, first, leaping onto a moving train and, second, not having a ticket. But, the officer was very kind and, as we were actually on the correct train, simply showed us to our car and said goodnight. Such is India where the biggest stunt of our trip seems to be an everyday occurrence.

We arrived in Agra to a chorus of shouts from touts, for the home of Taj Mahal is probably on of the the most tourist-filled cities in India. But our first glimpse of the Taj from the roof of our hotel reminded us what all of the fuss is about. It certainly is a vision of grace.

Described as the "ultimate tribute to love", the mausoleum was built by a 17th century Mughal emperor named Shah Jahan for his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal. The tomb is made of white marble and inlaid with semi-precious stones. Yet it's beauty does not lie in its decoration, but rather in its architectural symmetry. The four sides of the mausoleum are identical, and the structures and reflecting pools that surround it are designed to provide further balance and harmony to the complex. It undoubtedly deserves its reputation as the 8th wonder of the world.

The Taj, however, is not the only reason to visit Agra. There are several other mausuleums that are stunning architectural works in their own right, including the tomb of Itmad-Ud-Daulah (often called the "baby Taj") and the tomb of Akbar, Shah Jahan's grandfather. The imposing Agra Fort is also an important monument, with it's labrinth of palaces and courtyards laid out across the river from the Taj. Shah Jahan was imprisoned here until his death by his son, Aurangzeb, but at least he could spend his days gazing out at his life's most magnificant work.

Varanasi & Sarnath

Varanasi is one of the oldest cities on the planet. It is also one of the world's great religious and cultural centers Set upon the banks of the revered Ganga (Ganges) river, a holy place of pilgrimage for Hindus. It also has important ties to Buddhism and Jainism and is home to the largest residential university in Asia, Benares Hindu University.

Like Jerusalem, you can feel a certain energy in the air as you walk down by the ghats (stairways) that line the Ganga. But it's not just faith that resonates, it is the breath of life itself -the life-giving force flowing through the currents of the river. Along with those performing puja (prayers and offerings), you find people going about their daily activities - bathing, washing clothes, refreshing their cattle. There is no doubt that the people and culture of Varanasi are inextricably linked to the Ganga.

We were very lucky to be in Varanasi during a beautiful and moving Hindu holiday observed by married women. Wives fast for three days to pray for the long-lives of their husbands and children. One man we spoke to explained the importance of the festival to us in this way - "We have arranged marriages in India and for the first couple of years you do not know your wife and cannot really love her. But then she fasts for you, and slowly, you fall in love."

During the fast women come to the Ganga to make offerings of food and prayers. Typical of the Hindu religion, which encourages people to determine their own personal approach to worship, the ceremonies we observed varied from family to family. Some women painted the soles of their feet red and showed respect to their mothers and aunts by touching their feet and then their own hearts. Others crawled down the Ghats on their bellies, systematically pressing their foreheads to each step after being turned in a circle by their loved ones.

The fast is broken at dawn following the third day and women and their families wait patiently at the Ganga for the sun to rise over the opposite river bank. We took a boat ride to experience the ceremony up close and were amazed at the sea of colorful saris (traditional Indian dress) that filled each ghat. When the sun finally burned through the smog, it was greeted by whoops and hollers of praise. Women again presented a basket of fruits, vegetables and flowers and poured milk from a brass pitcher into the Ganga. They then returned to their homes with their families to eat!


Such displays of faith are not just evident during festival times. There is a nightly puja ceremony performed with much pomp, and more humble prayers are being offered nearly every second of the day. It is one of the most auspicious places a Hindu can die and so many people make the sojourn here at the end of their lives in the hopes of ending the cycle of birth and death. There are several ghats that are used exclusively for cremation and you can view the fires burning throughout day and night. It's not uncommon to see bodies draped with vibrant cloth being carried through the twisted streets of the old city, or to come across a husband or son who has shaved his head in mourning.


According to tradition, some people may not be cremated and so their bodies are simply placed in the Ganga to decay. We saw one of those bodies float past us on our boat trip. It was disturbing, but it was all part of the fascinating glimpse we were given into this culture's attitude toward death - one that is characterized by much less fear and a lot more acceptance than ours typically is.

We also took a trip to Sarnath, a town a few kilometers outside of the city. Sarnath is the place where Buddha gave his first sermon, and so it is a holy pilgrimage site for Buddhists. There are some ancient Buddhist remains, a small museum and a green park, as well as several modern temples. It was particularly interesting to compare the different temple styles used by the Chinese, Thai, Japanese and Tibetan Buddhists.

We filled the rest of our time in Varanasi visiting temples, trying to find an ATM that would give us money and sending a package back to the States. India can be a frustrating place at times, but it's certainly never boring....

Kathmandu

We arrived back to an illuminated Kathmandu, with homes and businesses strung with flower garlands and lights for Laxmi Puja, the third day of the Tihar festival. The puja, or prayer, involves placing a trail of red mud (along with flowers, fruits and candles) at the entrance way of the home to invite the Goddess in. Because Laxmi is the Goddess of Wealth, many businesses also perform puja in hopes for a successful upcoming year and nearly every store front in Thamel (the tourist area of Kathmandu) was decorated.

The fourth day of Tihar involve more door-to-door singing in exchange for gifts of money. It was adorable, for the most part, but possibly bordered on begging (or extortion...) when it involved 40-year-old men rather than children. The last couple of days also involved lots and lots of illegal Chinese firework. We felt like we were in a war zone, and if it weren't for the holiday joy enveloping us, we might well have gone mad from all the noise.

The final day of Tihar is very endearing, and involves sisters and brothers giving tikas and gifts to one another and praying for the long life of their siblings. What a nice idea.

I wasn't feeling well, so we spent a few extra days in Kathmandu relaxing and recovering. This gave us the chance to visit a few sites around the city as well, like the palaces and temples of Durbar Square and the lovely Swayambhunath Stupa pearched on a hill at the western edge of the city. The latter is also referred the Monkey Temple because of the thousands of monkeys that dart up and down the stairways and swing from the trees. We could sit and watch those comedic creatures all day.

After one last western meal (pizza), we were finally ready to leave this travelers' haven to face the mysteries of India. If our bus trip to the border - enlivened with thousands of chirping chicks and a cadre of bearded sadhus (ascetic holy men) - is any indication, we are in for one heck of a ride....

Pokhara

Pokhara is a very laid back city on a lovely lake surrounded by green mountains and the snowy white Himalayas beyond. It was a great place to relax after our trip and we took a couple of days off to do just that.

It happened to be the beginning of Tihar, a very colorful 5-day Hindu festival. The first couple of days are devoted to the worship of various animals - crows are worshiped on the first day, the second day is for the dogs and cows get special treatment on the third day. People set out special food, place flower garlands around the animals' necks or paint red tikas on their foreheads for long life. There is a temple in the middle of the lake that we went to by boat, and there were many Hindus visiting it to make offerings to the birds and fish that surround it.

On the third day Laxmi, the Goddess of Wealth, is also worshiped, making this one of the most important days of the festival. Young people sing songs and dance from house to house giving blessings in exchange for gifts or money. This was the day we happened to leave Pokhara for Kathmandu, and we quickly discovered that the young people in the villages along the route have developed a much more profitable version of this age-old custom - these days, they drape a rope across the road and don't let your vehicle pass until you've made a requisite donation to the singing and dancing hordes! It was a very funny sight to see, but a bit frightening at times to see speeding trucks and buses play "chicken" with a bunch of money-crazed teens.

Annapurna

In Dharapani we said 'goodbye' to the Manaslu Trail and 'hello' to the Annapurna Circuit. It was liberating to shed our tents and porters to become a slimmer and more nimble party, and after camping so many days, the tea houses we stayed in felt surprisingly comfortable. Many had electricity, hot showers, real beds, and a varied menu. Sure enough most of them offered apple pie (or pye, phi, pii), none of which were quite as good as mom used to make. You could also get a beer that somebody carried up the trail for several days on their head, but at about $3 it was by far the most expensive thing on the menu.

But, this so-called "apple-pie trekking" was a mixed blessing, as the trail was quite crowded and the traditional ways of life we saw in Manaslu have long been transformed or supplanted by the lure of the tourist industry. It's hard to begrudge the modern-day improvements this influx of money has allowed, but I fear that it may lead to an eventual downfall in the end - the government is currently building a road along the trail and I can't imagine that many foreigners will want to spend weeks trekking through small villages that they can drive to. But, perhaps the road will simply mark another transition, because on foot or by car, the Annapurnas undoubtedly contains some of the most magnificent scenery in the world.

One of our favorite parts of the trail was a side trip that took us through Upper Pisang to Ghyaru, an small village perched high on the mountainside. The village is reachable only after a long slog up a series of steep switchbacks, which meant that we got to explore its intricately carved buildings and spin its prayer wheels undisturbed by the masses. It was definitely worth the climb just to take in the spectacular sunrise views of Annapurna II and IV, a vision that truly made us marvel at the awe-inspiring beauty in this world.

Although the Thorong La pass is nearly 500 meters higher than the Larkya La, it proved much easier for us to ply our way to the top. The snow was well packed and we were much better acclimatized - Oren pretty much danced up and down the mountain, he was so relieved not to have AMS! A bit of a party ensued at the top of the pass, with everyone celebrating the pinnacle of their long and difficult journey. The descent was steep and punishing on the knees, but delivered us to Muktinath, one of the holiest pilgrimage sites for Hindus and the original purpose of the Annapurna trail. An entire complex of temples (Hindu and Buddhist) have been built around a natural flame that emerges from the ground and people travel from all of the world to pray in this very special place.

Two days later, we reached Jomson, the ending point of our 23 day trip. We were tired and proud, and a bit sad to see our trek come to an end . We flew in a small 15-seater plane to Pokhara, which made me feel as if we were in a toy plane, soaring over a toy model of the earth below, complete with miniature mountains, rice terraces and evergreen trees. It was a surreal experience and a fitting conclusion to our time in Shangri-La.