Ascending to the heavens!

Trekking! As we set out for the Himalayas Monday morning, expectations were high and there was a static feel of excitement in the taxi taking us and Akio, our Japanese friend, to our starting destination, Naya Pul. Our itinerary was the popular Ghorepani-Ghandruk trek. This five day route promised to lead us through serene mountain villages and enchanted forests, while offering staggering mountain views. Many of the peaks can be seen from Pokhara, but the real giants of Annapurna and Dhaulagiri (ranked 10th and 7th highest mountains in the world, both above 8000 m) were obscured by lesser mountains as we started at about 1000 m at Naya Pul. We bid farewell to Akio, who was undertaking the longer and more ambitious trek to Annapurna Base Camp - A.B.C. for short. As the two of us set off alone towards Thikedhunga (1540 m), it dawned on us: our Himalayan adventure had begun.

Indian-posing with Akio in Naya Pul . It's chilly before the sun comes through!

We started along a gravel road, but when we pass this kind of scenery, it's OK.

Due to the geography of the Himalayas, distances are mainly given in hours rather than kilometers. We soon found that the trekking times given on our map did not correspond to our speed. Thikedhunga, which we thought would be our stop for the day, was reached in a couple of hours, and we decided to go straight for the next days' goal, 1300 meters higher up at the top of the hill, Ghorepani. There proved to be many steps to conquer on the way to the top - too many for me. I almost broke down in exhaustion at Ulleri (2070 m), and my spirits were low. Luckily Thomas, with the strength of a yak-ox, offered to help me carry my load. With his encouragement and help, we managed to climb the remaining 800 meters to Ghorepani, putting us a day ahead of schedule. We also enjoyed praise and respect (and sometimes disbelief) from the locals when we said we'd done Naya Pul to Ghorepani in one day!

Approaching Thikedhunga before noon; sleeping here is for wusses!

Spirits still high!

Double-packing on mystical elven trails.

The mountain villages we passed consisted mainly of tourist lodges, which would be our accommodation for the journey. Though it is mid-winter and low season with few to no guests at the lodges, we had company in the popular Ghorepani: two wi-fi-loving girls from Hong Kong and their extravagant porter/guide. They were ecstatic to find wi-fi at the these altitudes, but we chose to abstain from such luxuries.

An early evening (can't remember the last time I went to bed before 9 pm), made waking up at 5:30 a breeze - just in time to catch the famous sunrise at Poon Hill. At 3210 m it would be called a mountain any other place, but dwarfed by the surrounding mountain ranges of Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, it could hardly be called more than a hill. We left our bags in Ghorepani and hiked the 45 minutes to the summit - we had to take it slow, as we could start to feel the effects of the altitude! At the top there was a viewing tower and a tea shop, and though we had to share the moment with hordes of Korean and Chinese tourists, watching the first rays of sun gradually illuminate the snow-covered peaks was truly amazing.

Annapurna I soaking up the day's first rays of sun.
Fishtail, 6997 m., to the far right, is dwarved in comparison.

Arriving in Ghorepani wasn't the worst feeling!

Along the trail on day 2 - checking the map at one of the many rest stops,
with Annapurna South just doing what she does best.

We went back down to our lodge, had breakfast, and set off over a spectacular ridge. The trail led us through beautiful and quickly changing forests of different types. 30 meter tall rhododendron trees towered above us, but the ever-present Annapurna range to our left brought towering to a whole new level! Up and down steep hills we went, though we did not get the huge inclines we had encountered the day before. Taking it slow due to photo-necessity, altitude and occasionally icy and slippery trails, we were doing much better than yesterday. Since we were ahead of schedule we chose to step off the tourist track and do an extra circuit northward towards Jhinu hot springs. We left the main path at Tadopani and stopped for the night in the quiet, tourist-free village of Ghurnung, at the foot of Annapurna herself. The mountain air dozing us beyond measure, we struggled intensely to stay awake until 8:30! We decided not to set an alarm, and barely stirred for the next 12 hours.

Indian-posing as we leave Ghorepani and enter more enchanted forest.

Passing one of the many walking stick-armed Koreans.

Stepping off the beaten track took us to this kind of forests.

Ghurnung: Not Annapurna views, but more Annapurna spirit.

Lowering our weary bodies into the warm water of the hot springs the following day was every bit as good as we had hoped. As I lay care free in the pool by the roaring river I had an epiphany. I am now a firm believer in reincarnation through hot springs. We continued our trip revitalized, and no doubt I owe my thanks to the springs for giving me the strength to climb the 500 meters of steep stone steps that got us to Ghandruk (2000 m) that afternoon. This largeish village-town inhabited by the Gurung tribe offered further breathtaking views of Annapurna and Macchapucchre, the characteristic Fishtail mountain. Though I will not describe in detail the symptoms of the illness that got me this day (must have been something I ate), I was beaming with excitement over the landscape in spite of it. I can only imagine Thomas' joy, which must have exceeded even mine, as he was not bothered by any affliction.

When the going gets tough...

...the tough get going!

The hot springs were at the bottom of this V-valley, so down we go. Bye bye, Fishtail!

The sun hasn't set on Annapurna quite yet...

The sunrises in the Himalayas are really something special and they never get boring. Though the extreme altitudes press the air up clouds inevitably hide the peaks through the day, the mornings are crisp and crystal-clear. We woke up early again and enjoyed every view Ghandruk had to offer, and after a long and pleasant morning with the locals we started off back down the 4175 stone steps (Thomas counted - an agonizing task!) that we had climbed exclusively for the sake of those views. We took our time heading towards our exit point, which we easily could have reached in one day if we had tried, but since we wanted an extra day in the mountains we stopped in Pothana, 1970 m. Along the way were lazy mountain villages, but as we moved away from the great mountains and towards civilization, we felt less and less in the wild. Following a jeep road, we were growing a bit bored, but things picked up again as a sign pointed us up more steep steps (now they are our friend!) to Pitam Deurali (2280 m). Here the forests again felt wild, Annapurna showed itself as a castle in the sky above the afternoon clouds, and we met a very friendly Nepali guide and Korean girl, who we decided to lodge up with in Pothana.

After a long night of card games and delicious food, we practically collapsed when we went to bed at 9:15. The next morning we again got up early for one last magical sunrise, before hiking the last two hours of village-flanked trails and steps down to Pokhara valley.

We don't seem to get tired of waking up to this.

Haze + sun + Himalayas = Lion King magic!

Back to civilization...

This kind of trekking in the Himalayas has become very easy for anyone, due to well-maintained trails, lodges with all facilities, and the possibility to hire guides and porters. We were very happy with our choice to go on our own, but it would be nice to get a little further away from the trails of the first-time trekkers and deeper in to the brilliant mountains themselves. I guess we'll just have to come back here, again!

Now we're headed to Chitwan National Park in southern Nepal. We've booked a three-day all-inclusive package trip, including rhino safari from elephant-back, crocodile-teasing from dug-out canoes, bird watching jungle walks with professional guides, and finally bus ride to the capital city of Kathmandu.

The Eagles Have Landed

A heavy burden has been lifted off our shoulders! We can breathe deep again, stretch our legs without bumping into people, talk to each other without having to scream, and quit being intrinsically skeptical to anyone initiating a conversation with us. What is this wonderful place, which clearly isn't India? It's Pokhara, Nepal!

Lakeside lunch. The sky is dominated by Himalayas and sun.

First things first: The trip from Varanasi to here was miserable. Our night-train from Varanasi to Gorakpur, which we chose specifically because it started in Varanasi and thus had a smaller chance of massive delays, was obviously massively delayed. We waited at Varanasi Central Station, only the train's second port of call, for four hours - from 11 pm to 3 am. We stayed awake for most of the time, as the speaker voice announced that "the train will be arriving shortly on platform 2" for more than 45 minutes.

Scheduled arrival in Gorakpur was 7 am, and with a two-hour drive from there to the border crossing at Sunauli, we were hoping on a scenic bus ride over the Nepali mountains, and an afternoon arrival in Pokhara the 25th. However, the clock ticked past noon, 1 and 2, and we stood at the second last station, only a few kilometers from Gorakpur, for over an hour. A rickshaw would have been faster! But we had met a very friendly and helpful Indo-Nepali family traveling the same way, and we figured we'd stay with them. We also met Akio, a friendly Japanese guy going to Pokhara.

By the time we got in a border-bound shared Jeep it was past 3.30 pm on the 25th, and the day dragged on past 4.30 before we were out of Gorakpur's traffic jam. The sunset scenery on the way north was lovely, but it was pitch dark when we got to Sunauli. There we were, in typical Indian manner, assaulted by competitive cycle-rickshawers and deceitful money exchangers (claiming not only that we'd need five times the amount of Nepali rupees we would, but also that we'd better give him all our US dollars as well...), and we lost our friend-family in the chaos. We feel like we've had enough of India at this point!

The bus we didn't take!

On the Nepali side of No Man's Land (a chaotic and misleadingly named stretch) we quickly realized that people actually wanted to help us rather than take our money, and in our India state of mind we probably came across as overly rude and dismissive sometimes. We can start acting like people again! We were lucky and caught the last bus of the evening to Pokhara, to arrive in the morning of the 26th. A bumpy, windy ride in too short and trickily reclining seats meant a mostly sleepless ride, but the (again much friendlier than we were used to) taxi drivers awaiting us in Pokhara took us and Akio straight to a good-value Lakeside (tourist downtown) hotel, where we treated ourselves to a few more hours of sleep.

Waking up the next morning in Pokhara was magical. The sun was warm, the brilliant, snow-capped Annapurna peaks of the Himalayas were stunning in the not-to-distant distance. Pokhara lies on a picturesque lake and is a tourist's haven, the streets lined with trekking shops, trekker's grocery stores, traveler bookshops, tour operators, hotels and restaurants with fresh lake fish on the tempting menus. We chose to spend the day quietly and recharge our batteries, the main activity of the day being renting a wooden boat and paddling on the lake for an hour. But eager to make the most of our limited Nepal time, we booked a paragliding trip for the next day, and decided on a five-day trek starting the day after that!

It wasn't exactly a canoe Uncle Cornell, but we enjoyed it anyway.

The trek we chose is known as the Ghorapani-Gandruk trek. Its highest point is the underwhelmingly named Poon Hill, at just over 3200 meters (10500 feet), which allegedly offers spectacular views of Annapurna. We decided to go without a guide and porter, as it is a very popular route, with villages along the way and well-used trails. It won't be a true wilderness experience - at the world's most popular trekking destination you have to spend quite a few weeks and quite a few thousand dollars to get that - so for the price and the time we have this seems like a great trek. Though tour operators urged us to use their services, no one found it strange or reckless that we set off on our own, and since there's little chance of severe altitude sickness on this trip, we'll carry our own backpacks.

So we leave tomorrow morning. The backpacks are packed, we've rented down jackets and sleeping bags, and bought a map and some provisions. Today we've been paragliding, as seen below. It was totally awesome and adrenaline-inducing, giving us but a taste of the Himalaya-views. If we come across an internet cafe with actual functioning internet, we'll upload a video also :)

Very ready!

Thomas' trusty tennis shoes. Today: Paragliding. Tomorrow: Trekking.

Till after the trek!

India In Retrospect

On the eve of our departure for the Nepal border, we're reflecting a little over everything we've experienced on our almost 4 weeks in India. "Too little time", we always tell people when they ask why we haven't gone to this place or that, and why we have to leave so soon, but we both feel like we've made the most of our time. Of course there are loads more places to see, India is an enormous country, with far more people, far longer distances, far bigger cities, far more fantastic sights than we were imagining. "Seeing all of India" would take for ever, and frankly, it would be quite an exhausting journey.

The traveler, with Lonely Planet and a handful of string beans
(10 rupees for three days' worth of heavy munching), resting in Agra Fort.

Travelling like we've been doing, with a couple of days in each place, is great in that it lets us fit in a whole lot of highlights in a limited amount of time, and we have certainly been lucky with our pick of visits - every place has been a true highlight, it's impossible to compare or rank them, and no visits have felt like a mistake, no stops have felt too long. On the other hand, ever since Goa and Hampi we haven't really taken the time to settle in and get to know a place properly, we've just taken in the best of the cities, allowed ourselves to be pampered, eaten at the best select few restaurants, visited the very best sights. Also, although every stop has been entirely unique, something completely different, they've all been India. Even Goa. Here in magical Varanasi, the holiest of holy cities, a place unlike any other on earth, it's also just another Indian stop: The food is fantastic but getting familiar, the streets exhilarating but always stressful, the people we meet have the same customs, the same good and bad habits. We've had our mind set on Nepal for the last couple of days, anxious to move on. It may sound strange that we were discussing the practicalities of Himalaya trekking while watching the Ganges river evening ceremony, but that's the case.

So what have we loved the most about India? Here are some points we want to highlight, that we've kind of brushed by lightly on the blog so far.

The food

Oh my goodness, where to begin. Ever since we got to Goa, with its tourist-friendly (but entirely new to us) menus, we've been wowed by Indian food. Although dotted with burgers, pizza and pancakes, Goan cuisine specialized in coconut sauces, tangy spices and fantastic, fresh sea food. We'd usually order two different curries to share, along with some rice, chapati or naan bread (garlic naan, more often than not). Hampi, still tourist friendly, gave us a good taste of the famous south Indian cuisine. One favorite from here is the masala dosa, a thick-breaded wrap with filling veggies inside. Moving away from the tourist places, we got a better impression of Indian everyday cooking, and street and train food (we've been extremely careful). They like breading and deep-frying stuff, and the steaming hot, triangular samosas for 10 rupees (1 NOK) are hard to resist. There's also the ever-present chai, a spicy tea with milk and sugar - the latter in absurd amounts if it's pre-mixed; I prefer it when they bring you the sugar bowl separately, and you can choose to add less than the five tablespoon standard.

The delicious meal at Ganga Fuji in Varanasi was quite representative:
From top left: Vegetable raita (tzatsiki-like side), spinach mushroom curry, kashmiri curry,
garlic naan, and a colorful biryani (rice dish)

Even after moving out of the strictly vegetarian areas, we've steered largely away from meat. Partly because of the slightly higher risk of insufficient preparation, but mostly because we simply haven't missed it much with all the amazing and new vegetarian dishes. We've grown to just use the hindi names for our favorites: Aloo gobi (potato and cauliflower), fried dal (lentils), anything with palak (spinach), and anything Kashmiri (a style that usually includes adding some applish fruit and cashewish nut to the dish in question). It's been fun discovering the regional variations as we traveled through the different states. Gujarati food (sampled in Ahmedabad), lighter, sweeter and seemingly prepared with extra care, was a pleasant surprise. Rajasthan brought meat back on the menu in the form of mutton - often much more tasty than the rather half-hearted chicken dishes. For while strict veganism is found only in patches, the aversion  towards eating the holy cows and pigs is all over India, and this has given rise to loophole inventions such as chicken burgers and mutton bacon!

The famous Blue Lassi lassis. This is from our second visit.

The last one that needs a mention is the lassi: a milkshake-like drink/desert based on curd (natural goat's milk yoghurt) and added any variety of flavor. Favorite flavors have included cardamom, mango, pomegranate and Gujarati special, but the India-wide search for the best lassi undoubtedly reached its conclusion here in Varanasi, at the well hidden yet well visited Blue Lassi. They are hand-churned on the spot in hand-made clay pots, and over 70 varieties are on the menu. After waiting for ages in the tiny, blue room overlooking the street where funeral processions regularly march down to the burning ghats, you get ridiculously excited when your dream-combination lassi (pomegranate-chocolate? blueberry-orange? saffron-pistachio?) arrives overflowing in the clay pot. And it's so, so good. But Blue Lassi masterpiece or regular plain, I'll miss them.

The history

We've taken in so much history while we've been here, and India has so incredibly much to offer in terms of old stuff. There are 30 world heritage sites, for starters. Rather than giving a history lecture here, I'll mention how neat it has been that the different places we've visited, snapshots around the country in between skipping large stretches, have offered us glimpses into so many different historical eras. We've traveled from the Portuguese colonial churches in Goa, to the temples and palaces of the Vijayanagar kingdom (ca. 15th century AD) in Hampi, from the Victorian London-influences in Mumbai to long-lost civilizations on Elephanta Island, from the Arab feeling in Ahmedabad's mosques and walls to Udaipur and Agra's decadent maharaja legacy, and the holy Ganges in Varanasi, as old as the Hindu religion itself. Supplemented by a few museums and a very helpful guide book, it feels like we've been learning by osmosis while we've been here, just soaking up information. And we've stayed clear of the famous "temple fatigue", where one amazing site just blends into the next, though I have a feeling the Nepal stay will be dominated more by adventure than sightseeing.

This magnificent mosque stands right next to the Taj Mahal. Ever heard of it?
No, neither had we.

Temple fatigue? From Hampi.

The smiles

We've been whining about many Indians, and my oh my can the rickshaw-drivers, vendors, scammers, massagers, hagglers, horn-honkers and paan-spitters be annoying. But there have also been plenty of times we've been blown over backwards by how helpful and genuinely friendly Indians can be. Some I'll remember for a while are the people running our hotel in Sawai Madhopur, who shared their fire with us and taught us some Hindi, the socially, artistically, environmentally conscious restaurant owner who took us for the artisan tour of Udaipur, the student in Mumbai who stopped us on the street only so he could practice his English and show us around town for the afternoon, Manoj of course, and the many families we've met on our train rides, who with limited English always would talk to us as much as they could. While I was feverish on the train from Hampi to Mumbai, Alex was dancing Gangnam Style all morning long with the kids in the neighboring compartment!

Curious Indians seem to associate only one thing with Norway - the midnight sun and all-day nights for a few weeks in the far north. But they've got it a bit wrong, and they always ask us something along the lines of "Is it true that they don't have day and night in Norway?". Others don't know Norway at all; they don't understand that we've answered their question, and keep repeating "Your country! Your country!" until we pronounce "Norway" with a rolled R, and say "North Europe" or something. Among the tourist profiteers most will claim they have a friend from Norway, and we've heard that many of the people constantly asking to take photos with us (some don't even ask first, they just rudely grab our arms and point at the camera) do it to be able to brag to friends or show future customers their European friends. But then again, the laughs shared by the locals over cups of chai are sweeter than even the chai itself.

Happy kids in Hampi.

Okay, till next time India. It's been great. Now: Nepal ohoy!

Impatient pilgrims

As we arrived in the holy city of Varanasi on Wednesday morning, we were immediately overwhelmed by even more ferocious cab drivers than in Agra. Getting used to this, we walked over to the official prepaid taxi stand, but ended up with a higher price than what was offered from the touts! Confused, we went with the prepaid anyway, and set off towards Varanasi's old town. To our delight we found the rickshaws of this town to be unequipped with car horns! This is undoubtedly to preserve the holiness of the area around the Ganges river but we say: "Well done, Varanasi!"

The old town proved to be inaccessible by rickshaws anyway, so we went on foot the last part and entered the really narrow streets in the riverside area by the ghats - wide steps leading down to the sacred river. After checking in to friendly Teerth Guest House we went for a riverside walk down to the ghats. Among the never ending stream of flower-sellers, massagers, boat drivers and souvenir vendors, devout Hindus would bathe by the riverside, while mumbling a silent prayer to one of their many god aspects. The biggest culture shock however, was when we wandered over to Manikarnika Ghat, one of the famous burning ghats. Hindus believe that being cremated on the Ganges river ends the cycle of rebirth. Pictures of the funeral pyres were strictly forbidden, but we could stand as close as we wanted and watch the partially burned bodies.

The river Ganges, as photographed by a friendly Korean girl.

The ghats are an explosion of color and sound.

For dining in Varanasi we were immediately attracted by the Lonely Planet-recommended Brown Bread Bakery. We headed for it both for breakfast and second breakfast, but had a hard time picking it out from all the opportunist neighbors ("Brown Bread Akery" and such) taking advantage of the tourist flow. It was certainly delicious though, we'd been missing brown bread. We also made a similar pilgrimage to Blue Lassi, allegedly the best lassi shop in India. This one also beautifully exceeded expectations, but accompanied by tourists with their nose on the same page as us in the same guidebook, we felt kind of silly. We've been looking in a few book stores for the Lonely Planet guide for Nepal, but maybe it's just as well that we never ended up buying one! Yes, you might miss a couple of gems, but it's not only positive either that the tourists are all channeled to the same places.

Not sure why I couldn't rotate this!

At nightfall we grabbed a cup of chai at the main ghat and sat down to behold the nightly river worship ceremony. Hundreds of people gathered on boats out on the river, others crowded together on the ghat, while others found good views from a balcony, like us. The ceremony was led by seven men on small platforms, performing synchronized movements with accessories like peacock's tail fans, candle-fountains, Shiva-snake torches, flyswatter-pompoms etc., accompanied by ringing bells and music of worship. It was quite the sight.

The goings-on at Dashashwamedh Ghat every night.

After the ceremony we went to one of the many restaurants offering live Indian classical music. We really got lucky - Ganga Fuji restaurant isn't in Lonely Planet, but was awesome enough to have name-mimicking impostors and messages from happy customers lining the walls. The owner was incredibly enthusiastic about his cooking; when we asked him to recommend dishes for us he bubbled over of excitement, describing the ingredients and cooking method in colorful and mouth-watering detail! The food was every bit as good as promised, one of the best meals we've had in India, and the music in the background and other happy guests (among which were the first other Norwegians we've met!) created a great atmosphere.

For the next day we had booked an early morning picnic and boat ride on the Ganges from Brown Bread Bakery. Yes, the view was lovely from the river and the breakfast was delicious, but it all got rather overshadowed by the fact that our rower was a seven-or-so year old boy! It wasn't all to nice munching your sandwich while the little kid was rowing as hard as he could upstream. Motorized boats chugging and emitting black exhaust also wrecked a bit of the charm.

Morning on the Ganges. The burning ghat is in the background, if you can
see past the big strong man in front of the boat obstructing the view.

The rest of the Varanasi day was spent soaking up the ghats, blogging, another Blue Lassi and another concert at Ganga Fuji. We met backpackers spending a month or more here, and I can understand it. It is a spectacular place. For us, however, it was also the last stop before the eagerly awaited Nepal, so we're departing already tonight!

Taj Mahal - like a boss

"Agra, Agra!" I heard through my deep sleep. A man was standing over me, but hurriedly exited the train when he saw I had awoken - we had arrived. As our shivering selves departed from the station on Monday morning, we found Taj Mahal's hometown covered in mist. The first thing that struck us was the aggressiveness of the local rickshaw drivers. Through India we have gotten used to hollering cabdrivers, but I guess the 3 million annual tourists (tripling the local population) have made the competition and greed reach new heights.

We arrived at Kamal Guest house after repeatedly denying the driver's suggestions to take us to other places where he, no doubt, would have received a commission. The morning fog lifted and we had breakfast at Kamal's rooftop restaurant. With the beautiful view over Taj Mahal, the long awaited destination felt suddenly close, like we could just reach out and touch it. The surrounding area, known as Taj Ganj, resembled more a small town than a large city with its small alleys and the 500 meter car-free zone around Taj Mahal.

Alternative means of transportation dominated the Taj-vicinity,
such as cycle-rickshaws, electric taxis, and dromedaries.

To avoid the crowds, we decided to wait with the main attraction till Tuesday morning and fled from the street vendors and cab drivers through a serene park which led us to Agra's fantastic Mughal fort. Emperor Akbar (not Admiral, for the Star Wars fans out there) rebuilt this old fort and made it his palace when Agra became the capital of his empire in 1558. It was later expanded by his grandson, Shah Jahan, and became Shah's prison when he was overthrown by his power-hungry son Aurangzeb. From his tower the imprisoned emperor would gaze upon his favorite wife's newly finished mausoleum: the Taj Mahal. The fort's splendor will forever be overshadowed by the world famous Taj, but the complex' many beautiful palaces and audience halls were nevertheless well worth a visit.

There were like separate 16 palaces inside the fort.

And the squirrels were cool too.

After exploring the refreshingly tourist-free shops of Sadar Bazaar we ended the night at Yash Cafe, which also claimed to show movies at the guests' demand. Through the proprietors' rather loud conversation, we barely caught the story of (Stephanie Meyers', as it later turned out) "The Host". The movie, whose plot admittedly had potential, was rather daftly executed, and we left before the end.

An early rise on Tuesday secured a view unobscured by the masses of the picture-perfect Taj. Only the Japanese photo-pros shared the grounds with us - we are truly perfecting the art of tourism.

What's that? Oh, that's just one of the seven modern wonders of the world behind me.

Many faaar better writers than me have tried to describe the beauty of the Taj Mahal so I won't even try, but suffice to say we were extremely pleased with our visit. Our satisfaction was even more enhanced when, as we sat down for our rooftop breakfast, the skies opened and pouring rain came down on us. Imagine if we had postponed our visit just an hour more! With light spirits and mission accomplished we decided to take a much needed break, and spent the rest of the rainy day in various restaurants playing chess, watching movies, reading and of course eating delicious food, before hopping on our night train to Varanasi.

Four is company

DISCLAIMER: Disaster! When we sat down at the Internet Cafe in Sawai Madhopur and connected our memory cards to transfer photos, the local anti-virus program perceived our benevolent memory cards as threats, and proceeded to corrupt both of our SDs! We therefore regret to inform you that we are unable to provide original photos at this time, and all photos are taken from generic Google searches.

That said, let's get on with the next part of our exhilarating adventure. It's time for stories from the quiet village of Bundi.

When Thomas and I got on the train from Udaipur to Bundi, we half-expected another 5 hours of stares, whispers and "Poto-pleas" from the locals. (Even though Indians can be very friendly, we also do encounter this unexplainable behavior quite a lot.) Instead we ended up in a compartment with two amiable and very British Brits. Adam and Leo, both 18, are residents of Yorkshire and would become our travel companions during our three night stay in Bundi. We got to the station at 10.30 in the evening and shared a chilling rickshaw ride to the city center. What met us was a ghost town with everything, even our guest house, shut down. It wasn't even 11! We called for an early night and decided to meet up again for breakfast at the Englishmen's guest house.

On Thursday morning the entire valley was filled with an enchanted fog and we ate our rooftop breakfast at Leo and Adam's hotel shivering, unprepared for the sudden change of temperature. Suddenly, the spell lifted and a stunning view was revealed to us.

Generic picture #1: Bundi Palace and the overlaying Taragarh Fort.

How's that for dramatic effect? Anyway, we instantly knew that we had to explore this fort complex as soon as the weather cleared completely.

We explored the city center in search for warmer clothing, and stumbled across a kite store. Everywhere we have visited in India we've seen kids flying kites, and we all felt that the joy of flying one was a gap in all our childhoods that needed filling. Full of confidence we bought some cheap kites and wandered over to a dirt field to fulfill our dreams of soaring.

Generic picture #2: Kite-filled fun!

Alas, our rose-tinted dreams were soon ran into the ground. Kite-flying was not as easy as it seemed. Also, some local, obnoxious teenagers arrived at the scene. They quickly stole the show and crashed our kites into the nearby lake.

Disappointed, we drowned our sorrows in lassis and delicious Nutella and banana pancakes at the local backpacker-friendly Tom & Jerry's cafe. The mood was brightened by the soothing, self-picked tunes of Amy Winehouse and Led Zeppelin.

The fog had now lifted completely and it was time to explore the hill fort and palace. The abandoned palace had very few restrictions and we were able to explore practically every bat-filled corner of the place. But it was first after the steep climb to the top of the hill that our wanderlust was really satisfied. The massive complex of abandoned forts nearly felt like wandering straight into Middle Earth. No pictures can capture the essence of being able to wander the 700 year old ruins and imagine the musty rooms and battlements at their full glory.

Generic picture #3: We had to clamber through a similar hole in the gate to enter the fort complex.

We ended yet another fun-packed day at a lakeside restaurant, and decided to rent bikes to explore the surrounding countryside the following morning.

Biking through serene villages and bumpy dirt roads off the beaten track was quite an adventure, but without our personal pictures the stories fall rather flat. In short, we frolicked in abandoned ruins and mysterious lakes, but we all knew this care-free atmosphere couldn't last. It was time for us to move on, and on Saturday morning we took the bus to Kota with a connecting train to the town of Sawai Madhopur. Here we would embark on a quest with a single goal: to spot a wild tiger in India's largest tiger reserve, Ranthambore National Park.

On the tiger trail

Our last stop in Rajasthan was the rather inconspicuous village of Sawai Madhopur. We spent one night here on a single quest: a glimpse of the famous and nearly extinct Bengal tigers. Sawai Madhopur is the nearest village to Ranthambore national park and tiger reserve, which at the last counting was home to 28 tigers. Although we knew the chances of spotting a tiger were slim, we were both looking forward to a jeep safari, to see the beautiful scenery and wide range of other wildlife in the park.

Let's pay these guys a visit. You know, since we're in the area.

On our first afternoon in Sawai Madhopur I went for a long run, choosing a deserted side road towards a mountain resort or something. The minute I turned off the main road, a true adventure began. Across the trail in front of me dawdled wild peacocks, on my right a couple deer with long, straight, black horns, on my left a dozen or so strange horse/cow/antelope-like creatures peacefully grazing. If I looked too long to one side I'd miss something on the other side. Overhead colorful parrots were squawking, and quail-sized flightless bird were trodding alongside me. I had no idea what all these animals were, but was completely overwhelmed by how much wildlife there was to see! My hopes for the next day were high as I ran back towards the firey sunset. Pardon the language, but it really was a run I'll remember a long time! I couldn't wait to find out more about these animals - but first, a digression.

Common though they may be, they're awesome
when you unknowingly jog by a herd of ten of them!

That evening, as Alex was using an ATM in the village, I was enthusiastically ushered into the neighboring shop, by a very friendly jewellery artist. Looking bewildered at me as I had been sat on a chair by the counter, Alex was also dragged in, and before we knew, we were sharing a cup of chai with our new friend Manoj. We talked for a long time, and Manoj offered to cook us dinner. It had grown late though, and we agreed to take him up on it the next day. So instead he sent us with one of his, um, henchmen, to a recommended local place for dinner. (Although the calmest and friendliest personality in the world, he had kind of a head honcho-style in the way he got people to wait on us - fetch us chai, wait for us at the restaurant then drive us back to the hotel, etc.) An unexpected but delightful twist to the day! The night ended around a bonfire on the porch of the hotel, learning some hindi from the hotel staff. They were our age, and we were the only guests, so we had a fun evening with them.

Before our afternoon tiger safari the next day, we went to the Ranthambore fort, on a mountain overlooking the national park. By Lonely Planet's recommendation, we drove out there by 20 rupee shared jeeps (while looking for them the rickshaw drivers were offering the ride for 1000 rupees), and had to stand on the back of the jeep for the bumpy 40 minute drive. Quite the roller coaster! On the way we saw lots more of the animals I had seen while running, most of them were pretty common.

A helpful sign read "Caution: Depth of the pond is deep".

When we got there we were overwhelmed by how many Indian tourists there were, from all over the country. But while we were there to see the enormous 10th century fort, the Indians were there for the sole purpose of visiting its Hindu temples. They hurried in packs straight up the hill to the tacky, neon light-covered, vendor-crowded temples, threw garbage everywhere, gave chips to the overweight monkeys, and giggled and pointed and occasionally harassed the white tourists (us). There are certain aspects by the culture here we don't appreciate as much. So yeah, the fort was cool, though not quite what we expected.

Alright, safari time! We were picked up at the hotel in a 6-seated Gypsy safari vehicle, and driven directly to Ranthambore. The leaves had fallen off the trees all over the deciduous forest, making wildlife spotting easy, and the canyony, hilly landscape was spectacular. We saw lots of grazing animals - our naturalist guide (who spoke hindi 99 % of the time), informed us that some of the animals we had been seeing were Sambar deer, nilgai and chital. We also made stops as we came across a wild boar, spotted owl and more peacocks. But although we were deep in tiger territory, the closest we came to actually seeing one was territorial claw markings on trees along the road. Returning we felt the safari was slightly anticlimactic, but all in all as expected. The excitement that comes with the knowledge alone that there are tigers to see out there, is certainly to be cherished - despite the heroic efforts of India's nationwide Project Tiger, there's no denying that the future of these iconic creatures looks rather bleak.

Alas, this was not our fortune.

Back in Sawai Madhopur, we went over to Manoj's shop again. Thrilled to see us, he took us to his small apartment and made us a lovely vegetable dish with chapati. As we sat on a newspaper on his floor and ate with our fingers the food that he had cooked us over his one-burner gas stove, we really marveled over what a little friendliness and openness can do! With his wife and family back in a village in Rajasthan, he had shops in different parts of the country and traveled between them, depending on where it was tourist season, and told us that he would make new friends and cook for his foreign guests almost every evening. All we can say is that he with his little gestures makes very many people very happy! Anyone going to Ranthambore - look up Manoj Sharma's shop, next to the ATM ;-)

With leftover chapati from Manoj in our pack, we went to the railway station to catch our sleeper train to Agra. Although it was nearly three hours delayed in the cold, foggy night, Agra is where we are now, and Taj Mahal awaits tomorrow morning. Future posts will contain original photos, what a shame with this memory card issue! We hope to salvage the (admittedly rather awesome) pictures from Bundi and Ranthambore when we get back.

Northward Bound

We grew quite fond of our heroic travel agent in Palolem. Where others failed (or gave up instantaneously, after misspelling the name of our destination and concluding that no trains were available), he tried combination after combination of dates, classes and stations, and always succeeded in getting us tickets. Although there were no direct trains available, he managed to get us to Udaipur in Rajasthan, which we had decided upon as our next stop after Mumbai, first by train from Mumbai to Ahmedabad, and then by sleeper bus from Ahmedabad to Udaipur in the evening. The journey northward would span two nights, but we happily accepted, as it gave us an interesting extra stop on our trip.

Yes, hello, we're checking in now from the white city Udaipur.

Ahmedabad is the capital of the Gujarat state, a chaotic and much too quickly growing city of five million people. Of the wall that once encircled the inner city, only fifteen huge stone gates remain today, standing as islands in the never-ending traffic craziness. But the people there are incredibly friendly: As we were struggling with our backpacks down the river of people, cows and motorbikes towards the city centre, two locals maneuvered us deftly past stalls and through side streets to the bus station. While on the crowded bus, the conductor jumped out and ran with us between the moving traffic on the street to get us on to the right connecting bus. Several other times were we wowed by how friendly and helpful the locals were - and never with any ulterior motive to sell anything or scam us, as was so often the case in Mumbai. We were also glad for a taste of the Gujarati cuisine, which is lighter, sweeter and less spicy than other Indian food. The first lassi (Indian yoghurt based drink) with wine gums and ice cream was quite a surprise!

Despite several old mosques and forts, the number one thing to see with only one afternoon in Ahmedabad was for us Sabarmati Ashram, Mahatma Gandhi's headquarters for 15 years during the Indian independence fight. The complex, which was home to both a small museum, Gandhi's spartan house and other buildings in the commune, is on a lovely spot by the river and a tranquil break from the bustling city. His actions and teachings are very inspiring, but we both find it strange how Gandhi is so highly revered in India, while the Indian mind set is in striking contrast to Gandhi's principles. The constant deceit, haggling, trickery and scamming which is so annoying for tourists, as well as all the crime and corruption hindering India's development, seems to be so contradictory to the teachings of its national hero.

Gandhiji in his garden.

The evening grew quite cold as we hurried on to catch our night bus to the white city of Udaipur, and by the time we arrived there at five in the morning, another hundred and some miles farther north, we were both chilly in our sweaters. The open-rickshaw drive from the bus stop to our guest house in single-digit temperatures was nothing short of frigid, and our all-marble room seemed like an icebox - the past weeks of paradise have taken the viking out of us! But when we got out the next day after sleeping in for the best part of the morning, the sun was high in the sky and our fears of freezing to the marble melted away.

The saying "never accept candy from strangers" can't possibly apply when they're as cute as this.

Both omelet, temperature and view are satisfactory. Alex consults Lonely Planet for the day's itinerary.

Our guest house is in Lal Ghat, a very touristy and busy, but also very convenient, central and pictoresque part of town. We went to one of the many rooftop restaurants and took in Udaipur in its full beauty: white marble palaces, temples and walls along the lake in the middle of the city, a sandy haze from the desert mystifying the hills and lakes in the distance, the iconic Taj Lake Palace hotel, the bridges and channels giving it a Venice-like feel. Udaipur is the city featured in the Bond film Octopussy, which screens at pretty much every guest house pretty much every evening. We watched it last night over dinner, after a long day of sightseeing.

The floating palace in Udaipur, in the Bond movie the headquarters of the femme fatale organisation Octopussy.

They've learned that many guests like Bob Marley, 100 rupee thalis, and watching Octopussy every night.

The city palace is the home of the longest continuously ruling dynasty in the world, the Maharajas of the Mewar kingdom. These tiger-hunting, treasure-collecting, palace-building, grotesquely rich megalomaniacs are still influential in Rajasthani politics today, but the city palace has been opened to the public and turned into a museum and royal wedding location. It's majestic and imposing on the hilltop above the lake, a true palace in size and grandeur, pillars and turrets and courtyards and golden chambers making for quite a tour. However, we shared the premises with a bit too many tourists and a cacophonous wedding rehearsal procession. We also took a stroll through the winding, narrow streets of the town to the palace's vintage car collection, and visited the slightly quieter Hanuman Ghat on the opposite bank of the lake.

Sunset photos, for your viewing delight. Yes, I'll get around to cleaning the lens.

For today we've booked an artistic tour of the city - a four hour round trip visiting local potters, painters, puppeteers and more, which has received good recommendations. Looking forward to that! In the evening we catch the train to our next stop, Bundi. It might be a little early, I'd love another day or two in this magnificent city, but we're on a tight schedule, with several other places in Rajasthan we'd like to see before we depart from Agra (spoiler alert!) in one week. Stay tuned!