#4 Gurus, body parts and Bob Marley

On my last day in Varanasi I went with Rajesh back to the city. He took me to get some henna and then sent me off on a walking tour of the oldest part of town.

Getting Henna in Varanasi
March 6, 2017

It was like a maze and there was no way I could have navigated it without a guide. The alley ways were very narrow and at times we had to squeeze past cows who have the right of way of course.

The walking guide was quite a character and unfortunately a bit creepy. He asked me if I was single pretty early on. Never a good sign. Then he really really wanted to take me to the karma sutra temple even though I said no many times. Something about him made me uncomfortable.

He kept on about it but I was determined not to endure that level of awkwardness with him. He went on to ask me a whole bunch of rather inappropriate and personal questions. Is it too much to ask to go on a walking tour without one's intimate history being examined I wondered?

It turned out when he wasn't trying to pry into tourists personal lives he was also a part time Bob Marley fan. He decided this was a good time to play some tinny reggae from his phone. So now not only was I getting the usual white tourist stares I was now also a tourist following a short Indian man in Ray Bans blasting Bob Marley. Fan-bloody-tactic.

The tour led us down to the ghats again and to the crematorium which I was morbidly fascinated by. I wasnt dissapointed! There were dead feet sticking out of the piles of wood and bits of bubbling roasting flesh.

The priest told me that the families are ok with tourists coming to look because they were so proud their loved ones had made it to the Ganges.

At some point during the day Mr Ray Bans and I got talking about gurus and palm reading as I was still thinking about what Mr Travel Agent had said in Delhi.

Varanasi seemed like a good a place as any to go to a guru especially because it is meant to be a very spiritual city. And of course Mr Ray Bans knew just the place. Mr Guru wanted to charge me an arm and leg to read my palm which was ironic because there were plenty of free arms and legs going at the crematotium. I bargained him down to 500 rupees from 1500.

He sat me down and took my left palm in his hand and began to tell me about my past.

He told me I was very independant and didn't like relying on anyone. It's a pretty safe bet when someone is travelling alone.

"You are like coconut. You put up hard outer shell but inside you are soft," he said in his gentle Indian accent.

He then told me I had some kind of intellectual/social job rather than manual labour. Again anyone can see that. My arms are tiny and my hands are callous free. I wasn't impressed.

Then he moved on to the present and said I'd had my heart broken three times and would have always problems with romantic relationships. But that I had a good relationship with my family.

According to him I wouldn't get any bad diseases but I would have issues with my lower back later in life and that I should do yoga. Given my height, that's another good guess. I'd also live until I was 85. Yippee!!

He finished by telling me I would have two children and would marry a younger foreign man in four years time. Hilarious. Mr Guru then tried to convince me to buy some stones that would help me with my unluckiness in love. I declined.

With that I left Mr Ray Bans, Mr Guru and lovely driver Rajesh behind in their crazy, hazy city of cows, cremations, palmistry and lassi and headed for Agra on an overnight train.

#3 A politically incorrect guide to the Ganges

When I woke up that morning on the train I had a quick panic that I was meant to get off at an earlier stop. Visions of  the little boy in the movie Lion flashed through my mind.

Not speaking Hindi has me in a constant state of uncertainty. I'm never sure if I've understood what's going on completely.

Any way it turned out I hadn't missed my stop and a lovely driver named Rajesh met me at the train station and took me into town. On the way he told me he was taking two other ladies around that day who were also from New Zealand.

He then tried to up sell a more expensive hotel to me but I declined and explained I was on a budget. He obliged but there was some problem with the checking in so he took me to the very upmarket hotel where the other New Zealanders were staying. I told him I was not paying any more as I had booked and paid for budget. He assured me this was fine.

The room was blinking amazing. King size bed, beautiful gold curtains with a blue sash, flat screen TV and a proper shower. After a good sleep, a hot shower and a solid breakfast of toast and omelet I was in a brilliant mood and thanked my lucky stars once again.

As soon as I hopped in the taxi with the two New Zealand women the one I will call Sheila #1 exclaimed, "You came to India in your own?! Are you fucking mad?"

The only people I've had tell me that travelling in India alone is a bad idea have been New Zealanders. We are a timid bunch it seems. Everyone else hasn't blinked an eye with one Indian man even congratulating me for travelling without a partner.

The women were classic middle aged, upper working class, white women. They smoked like chimneys, swore, gossiped and cackled like hyenas. Luckily the driver took all their very politically incorrect comments about his people and his country with a grain of salt.

They were finding the rubbish and noise a bit confronting which was understandable. I hardly noticed it any more and for some reason it never bothered me.

I kind of wish it did shock me. It should shock everyone. We share this planet and we need to look after it.

However there is a sense of hopelessness when you realise that your tiny country of four million people vigilantly washing out their two peanut butter jars a year is doing very little when millions of people in India are too busy struggling to survive to worry about anything else. It's not their fault. Change has to come from the top.

So the two cackling Sheila's and I were taken on a tour of Varanasi. It is a very religious city and has more of a rural vibe than Delhi. There is a slower pace of life and you can actually see the blue sky.

Our driver told us that his brother spent three months in prison for accidentally hitting a person with his car. Rajesh had to pay a large fine for him to get out or he would have been in there for up to five years.

That afternoon we visited the Mother of India temple where I spied a snake charmer outside. I was almost beside myself with excitement. Dad had asked for a snake charmer picture last time but I never saw any in the South.

My conscience completely desserted me and I happily took photos of these poor snakes and the monkeys on chains. The gentleman had put make-up on the monkeys faces and they looked incredibly strange. The snakes must have had a horrible time stuck in a bag all day and then provoked by their owner for tourists amusement.

I fell a little in love with the female monkey. I gave her some pats and she climbed up on my knee and didn't want to get off.

I told her she was beautiful and that eveything would be ok.

"Is she happy?" I asked the man.

He didn't answer me. I think he was insulted by my question.

Despite this I still gave him 100 rupee for letting me take photos. After all everyone is just trying to survive.

He told me he had been bitten many times by his snakes but he didn't die because he tied off the bites quickly before they entered his blood stream.

That evening Sheila #1, Sheila #2 and I went down to the Ganges for the evening 'festival' which happens every night.

Evening time on the Ganges. March 2, 2017

We hopped in a boat and I dropped a candle into the river as a blessing so the God of the Ganges would protect Mum during her operation back home.

Sheila #1 suggested I ask the gods to break up her son and his girlfriend. Charming.

The Ganges and surrounds were beautiful in a dirty, ugly, messy way. But that is life and in its entirety life is beautiful. I couldn't quite believe I was really there. I'd seen it on TV and read about it and now I could actually touch it and smell it. It was a surreal feeling.

By this stage I was getting a little tired of the Sheila's complaining. Sheila #1 was hungry and bored and didn't want to stay for the festival.

It was embarrasing the way she spoke about Indian people and their culture and frustrating that she was not willing to see any beauty at all. The fact she was a New Zealander made it even worse. We have a reputation to uphold!

When the festival was over we had dinner together and they cackled and smoked away until the resturant closed and I could escape to my room.

The next morning I met Rajesh at 5.30 am to go on another boat ride along the Ganges to see the sunrise. It was stunning and this time I was alone so could appreciate it better.

Sunrise on the Ganges, Varanasi. March 3, 2017

It was so peaceful watching people and animals on the ghats and not understanding most of what was happening. There were people chanting and washing laundry as well as people bathing in the river. Dogs ran around in packs and I even saw a dead cow floating down the river at one stage.

We had a brief look at the cremation area of the ghats where the bodies are burnt. We didn't get up close and although I was dying (pun unintended) to see the bodies it seemed quite disrespectful to go any closer.

I opted not to do any more sight seeing whilst in Varanasi and just soak up everyday life instead. Despite things being comparatively cheap EVERYTHING costs money, even using a public rest room, so you soon get through it.

Rajesh took me home and I spent the rest of the day happily writing about everything that had happened so far and cheekily hand-washing all my clothes in the bathroom. The amount of grime that came out of them was impressive! The inside of my nostrils were coated in Delhi grime as well and you don't want to know what the bottom of my feet looked like.

What are we doing to our beautiful planet? How do we stop it?

Trevor from Australia and I agreed on one thing. There needs to be a major shift in how we organise society. We can't keep this up forever.

Unfortunately he didn't have any answers and neither do I although he believed he should be in charge.

As leader of our singular global authoritarian government Trevor from Australia can fix all our problems. If only we'd take him seriously...

#2 'Money Temple'

After such an eventful first day in Delhi I was less enthusiastic about life the next morning.

Nodi knocked on my door and gently urged me out of my room by 10 am. He dropped me back at the booking office on his scooter where Trevor had spent the night smoking pot and watching the men gamble.

I waited for my itinerary to be printed which took ages. Whilst I was waiting I chatted to Trevor who told me he was going to be the world leader one day.

After having recently watched a lot of Louis Theroux documentaries I kept an open mind and probed a bit deeper despite my crazy alarm bells ringing. He explained he was studying politics and economics at university in Australia.

He'd had a vision when he was 17 of a symbol similar to yin and yang but different which he worked on until he had a visual depiction of the 'natural order of things,' with positives and negatives.

He showed me how it happened to look like a person with a head and a body and told me this was no coincidence. It was very complicated but it did make sense in a way. I was fascinated and asked him what he wanted to do with this knowledge and what his ideal outcome was. It may have come out a bit patronising but I was having difficulty keeping a straight face. He could tell I wasn't convinced.

He told me that it was a loaded question. People love to say that when they know you're a journalist especially when it's a perfectly valid question that makes them uncomfortable.

He said he wanted world peace and that he was going to be an advocate for this belief system. Brilliant.

Mr Travel Agent then suggested we go on another tour of old Delhi which I agreed to as I wanted to see the Red Fort.

After sitting in the Travel Agents for hours waiting for something to happen finally another man from Ireland came in and was convinced to go on a tour with us. I was relieved because I couldn't face spending any more one on one time with Mr 'Trevor from Australia.' I think the Irish guy also sensed Trevor was a bit crazy but he was new and fresh and enthusiastic about India as I had been the day before.

I let the two of them sit in the back of the taxi. I just couldn't figure Trevor out. He kept giving money to beggars yet said he had lost all his money. He seemed to think he was some kind of prophet and gushed over Gandhi when we visited a Gandhi memorial.

At the Red Fort in old Delhi we discovered Cannabis plants growing wild like weeds (ha ha) in the dried up moat. Brilliant line of defense I thought. Get your enemies so stoned they don't want to attack any more!

That day we also visited the spice markets by bicycle rickshaw. It was the Irishman's first day in India ever. Our rickshaw driver took us into oncoming traffic and Mr Irishman was finding it all spectacular which was quite hilarious.

The rickshaw driver was pointing out all the temples on the way and at one stage he pointed at a bank and said "money temple" with a big toothless grin. I caught the giggles after that. The joke took me by surprise and he was very pleased he had made me laugh so much.

That evening I was put on a train to Varanasi which is famous for being on the banks of the Ganges. I say 'put on the train' because amidst the chaos you are forced to pay a porter to help you find your train carriage. It takes a bit of getting used to relying on other people and then tipping as well when you are used to doing everything yourself.

I was quite exhausted by this stage so fell asleep on the train very early before food was even served.

I woke up a little while later to a boy presenting me a tray. In my sleepiness I presumed, embarrasingly, he was selling me something so shook my head and said no thank you. Then as my eyes adjusted I realised it was food, apologised and gratefully accepted it. The boy just stared at me like I was a complete moron. And rightly so.

After dinner I fell asleep again to the soothing motion of the train, hurtling towards the unknown, and the second day in India came to an end.

View from the spice markets into the streets below. March 1, 2017 - Old Delhi 

 Looking towards New Delhi. March 1, 2017 - Old Delhi

Spices for sale 

#1 The first 48 hours

The first guest house in New Delhi

Feb 28, 2017

 Sufi Shrine

Feb 28, 2017

In a way it seems silly to be using words to describe India. There just aren't enough to give any reader who has not already travelled there an idea of what it is like.

It is a country for the senses. India needs to be smelt, tasted, seen, heard and felt.

It is also a country where time dissolves.

Last time I was in India I came believing all the usual things about westerners coming to find themselves. I hoped I would maybe find myself, whatever that means, or at least find some kind of clarity, but of course I didn't. Finding yourself probably requires a bit more effort than just showing up. There wasn't even much of a culture shock. This time I came not wanting or expecting anything as it was just a stopover on the way to Nepal but soon enough I was under India's spell again.

Travel always makes me aware of luck more so than when at home and it seemed to start immediately when I was seated next to a very interesting Belgium guy on the flight from Auckand to the Gold Coast who had just finished a one year working holiday in New Zealand. He had loved his time in NZ and his positivity was contagious. It wasn't long before my fears of the unknown slowly evaporated and
I felt very lucky to have such good company right from the start of my trip.

Travel also exposes you to the best and worst of humanity. The best started before I even got to India in Australia when a fellow passenger had his water bottle taken off him in customs. He was asking the cafe worker if the bottle of water he had picked up was the cheapest around and the lovely man behind the counter paused for a second and then said, "Just take it. Welcome to Australia." Such a tiny gesture yet so big at the same time. The fellow passenger, who was obviously on a pretty tight budget, walked away with such a big smile.

The worst of humanity I can see in myself. I walk past beggars and feel very little emotion. I think putting up an emotional wall in these situations is my default survival tactic.

The Belgium guy and I had a long stop over in Kuala Lumpur airport. We discovered a movie room and spent the time eating, looking around the airport, using the free WiFi and me trying to get him to teach me some phrases in French. He also told me this past year in New Zealand was the happiest he's ever been and wants to keep travelling for as long as he can.

After he left for the Philippines I still had eight hours to go so I attempted to read my book. I felt very old fashioned as everyone was on some kind of device. In classic Malaysian style there were designated charging stations for devices but none of them worked. I've learnt it's best to embrace this kind of thing as there is nothing you can do. I found it kind of hilarious and entertaining watching everyone test out the power points and then retreat defeated just as I had done hours before hand.

Finally it was my turn to board the plane. The nerves were back and I began to feel uncertain about travelling alone again.

With a few deep breaths and a quick mental pep talk I was on my way to New Delhi, India.

I managed to sleep most of the way and woke up in time to catch a glimpse out the window of a mass of orange light and haze that is Delhi from the sky.

It looked quite beautiful. Tiny clusters of lights were sprinkled amongst the darkness. A hint of the organised chaos we were about to enter.

As soon as I arrived, time did that dissolving thing again. There is never any rush, yet everything seems effortless, and runs like clockwork.

Customs was quick, my bag arrived and a driver from my guest house was there to meet me. 

As I trotted along side him on the way to car I felt a huge sense of relief. Delhi wasn't scary. I'd done this before. The warm, hazy air and traffic noise made me so happy to be back.

In the van I revelled in the feeling of being a passenger in a vehicle in India and surrendering your fate to the powers that be.

The guest house was down a tiny lane in New Delhi with no name and through some large iron gates. Scooters, dogs, rubbish and people were everywhere even at 11.30 at night.

As soon as I arrived the owner of the guest house, Nodi, was out the front to meet me and took me to my room. I was so happy to see a bed but I was not to sleep just yet as Nodi had other ideas. Before I really knew what was happening I was on the back of his scooter and we were heading to a place to get maps. I'd never been on a scooter before and this seemed a strange time for firsts after such a long day but it was fun anyway.

Experience warned me this was probably some kind of deal he had with a friend to make money but I agreed to go as I hardly had the energy to argue.

 A man with a beard and wearing one of those mafia type hats greeted me at shop with 'Tourist Office' on the window. He really did look like some kind of gangster and had a vaguely Italian appearance with a gently curved nose and olive skin but I trusted my gut and didn't feel I was in any danger.

He ushered me into his office and asked me all the usual questions. 

Then he asked me about my plans for India and I told him I had none. In no time at all he had mapped out a train intinerary and I was to meet him at 9.30 for a tour of the city the next morning.

I asked if I could sleep on the itinerary part first as I knew my brain wasn't up to making good decisions and he was very obliging. Later he would tell me this was all part of his sales technique. "You have to make them feel comfortable," he confided. Clever. I am still unsure if taking tourists straight there after they have been travelling all day is part of their sales technique or just that Delhi is a city that never sleeps and everyone is just trying to make a living.

The next morning I woke up very early and was rearing to go. I wandered around the guest house which had an outdoor courtyard and roof top terrace. As I waited for my ride I struck up conversation with a nice Japanese man who was in Delhi for a yoga course. After a short conversation he lit up a ciggarette and the sweet and not unpleasant smell of 'ganja' clouded the courtyard. 

A small part of my brain was surprised, a bigger part found it hilarious and the rest was concentrating on keeping a polite expression on my face.

Nodi took me back to the booking office and again I was ushered into a room and supplied with piping hot chai and some kind of delicious lentil and naan combination for breakfast.

After looking at the itinerary, and making sure Mr Travel Agent knew I was on a budget, he booked a string of trains that would take me around the golden triangle of North India. I decided its best to just let things unfold in this country and accepted his itinerary and price. 

Soon I was in a taxi with two lovely German guys and a kindly looking driver with an unusual looking growth on his left ear that I couldn't stop looking at, honking and swerving our way through New Delhi traffic to the parliament buildings. I won't bore you with all the details about the things we looked at. It was all very touristy and you can easily Google it yourself if you want to know all the main sights of New Delhi.

The most interesting thing was getting to know the German guys and talking to our driver.

He told us the elections are coming up soon. I asked him if people like the current politicians. He laughed and said, "In every country politicians are not good." Classic.

We also visited the Lotus Temple which is exactly what it sounds like. It is a Bahai Faith temple and shaped like a lotus flower. Quite an impressive feat of engineering and design. What was even more impressive was that it was someones job to shush people inside . Hilariously one very studious looking woman took her job so seriously she even shushed a crying baby. Meanwhile a very chirpy sounding bird sang its heart out in the roof and got away with it.

That evening the two German guys left to catch a train to Varanasi and I waited in the office with Mr Travel Agent. He told me I should come experience 'indian nightlife' with him. 

I was already tired but didn't know the way back to my hostel and didn't want to miss out on anything so I agreed. Whilst I was waiting in the office I saw a grey haired western man with a beard looking as bewildered as I imagine I did when I first arrived at the office.

I gave him a polite smile which he took as an invitation for conversation and next thing he was introducing himself as Trevor from Australia and telling me he had found this amazing book. He showed me a coffee table type picture book about India that really wasn't that amazing. Mr Travel Agent informed me that I would be going with him and Trevor to listen to some music tonight.

I told myself that was fine. After all I am here for new experiences and to meet new kinds of people. Well...Trevor certainly was a new kind of person I was to discover later.

After some consideration I have decided to include the next part in the blog because I feel it is important to have authentic truthful accounts of experiences and leaving this part out would be dishonest. Just keep and open mind and remember this is India as you read on. Also...don't worry Mum and Dad. Have faith that you raised me to be sensible.

Once Mr Travel Agent had finished work he invited Trevor and myself upstairs and proceeded to roll a very fat joint.

I had already made it clear I wasn't going to be participating in this particular activity and that was fine with him.

I was very aware of keeping my wits about me and had made a promise to myself I wouldn't do anything that could make me more vulnerable than I already was when travelling alone.

I asked him a little incredulously if people get in trouble for having weed in India as it is still very much illegal.

He replied, "No. Just don't smoke it in public and no one worries."

After a while chatting upstairs and watching card tricks by one of his employees we took a taxi somewhere. I have no idea where we went and could not find it again if my life depended on it.

Mr Travel Agent led Trevor and I down some long winding alley ways lined with stalls selling religious merchandise and arrived at a Sufi* shrine.

*Sufism is a religion. Google it to know more. I had to as well.

Before we left the office, the employee who was showing us card tricks told me he knew things weren't ok for me at home. I can only imagine he meant Mum being sick and told me to listen to the Sufi music and I would feel cold inside and then I would feel better.

I asked him how he knew things weren't ok at home and he just smiled and said he sensed these things and to go enjoy the music.

So I did. Well I tried. I was feeling so exhausted by this stage I couldn't appreciate it properly and Trevor was beginning to get on my nerves. He kept saying how 'devotional' he felt and how spiritual he was. I had really had enough of it all by then and couldn't wait to get home. Something about Trevors story didn't add up but I couldn't figure out what was the truth and I still can't. 

Previously he told me he lost all his money when he first arrived in India in a hotel scam and had only booked his ticket to India one week ago. He had done no preparation at all and didn't understand the money so handed over a large chunk of it in the first hour.

I asked how he had come to see Mr Travel Agent and all he would tell me was that they had a spiritual connection and he was his 'brother.'

Mr Travel Agent then took us back to the office where we had dinner with his staff and he kindly walked me home.

There 'Mama,' Nodi's mother, was waiting for me and she was angry because I was back so late. By this time it was 12am. Mr Travel Agent said some angry words back to her in Hindi and left. It was then that I realised Mr Travel Agent was very short and not as tough as he appeared sat at his desk. Also he was going bald which was why he wore the hat all the time. It appeared to me he had shrunk as the day went on and I saw him in a completely new and vulnerable light. Poor Mr Travel Agent. He also had had a long day and now he was getting yelled at by a scary old Indian woman.

Earlier in the night he had asked to see my right palm. He looked at it and murmered "oh no. I don't want to tell you."

I looked at him in horror.

"What is it?" I asked. "Is it something bad? Please tell me?"

He had wandered out of the room and said over his shoulder, "It's not bad. Just something you need to change. I'll tell you when I'm high." But he never did.

Adventures in Hampi, Bangalore, Ooty and Mysore.

As time ticks on India never ceases to amaze.

After a great time in Goa with the most attentive hosts we could have wished for, we took a sleeper bus to Hampi. 

Hampi was what I'd been looking for without realising it. The dramatic landscape and ancient ruins were unlike anything I'd ever seen before. 

We arrived early in the morning just before sunrise and were greeted by about 20 desperate rickshaw drivers. Tired and grumpy, we chose the least aggressive of the drivers and made our way through the dark to our hotel. 

Later that day we explored the ruins. Monkeys were every where and as a guide told us the next day, "This is their kingdom, we just share it." 

A 'security guard' took us up to the highest temple. Before we set off we made sure to ask if he charged for his tour but his answer was very vague. We saw other tourists without a guide and would have rathered explore on our own but he wouldn't let up so off we went. 

He turned out to be a genuinely kind man who was very keen for us to get pictures at every possible lookout point. He also took us into a secret cave. "Secret place, secret place." He kept saying. "Without guide, people walk straight past." Inside the cave he lit a match so we didn't bump our heads and gave us a blessing. Afterwards he brought out a rusty old donation can. In the dim light we rummaged in our bags and I found some coins. He gestured that Melissa do the same so she extracted what she thought was a 10 rupee note. Later that night we discovered she had actually donated 1000 rupees (NZD $20) to the gods by mistake! 

The next day we did a cycle tour of the rest of the temples. That afternoon we whiled away time by sitting under a tree by the river and chatting with the local children who were all very curious about where we were from. Hampi exists mainly for tourism so the children have learnt various phrases like "What is your country?" and "What is your name?" They were all so sweet and had lovely manners. 

Many of the young boys sold guide books and postcards for pocket money. They were grand little sales people, greeting us with "My friend! Postcard? Very cheap, only RS50!" Despite the fact we had already bought postcards we ended up buying a more off one little guy whose persistence was extremely impressive. Plus we felt sorry for him because he had stubbed his toe running around the temples. "RS100 many happy me" He repeated over and over until we couldn't find it in our hearts to say no. 

Despite Melissa's generous gift to the gods she fell sick that evening with a rather violent stomach bug. We decided to postpone our bus journey for one day so she could recover. Nothing is worse than having a stomach bug in a place with a broken toilet! We moved to a cheap and cheerful hostel that had monkeys on the roof, a gecko in the corner and a working bathroom.

When Melissa had recovered we set off to Bangalore by taxi to save time. Arriving in Bangalore after Hampi was like driving from Whangarei to Auckland. Suddenly my new camel leather sandals felt inferior under the glare of the branded neon signs.

We immediately hunted down a McDonalds and giggled at all the new Indian flavours on offer. I chose a McChicken Maharajah with peri peri chips. Unfortunately that night it was my turn to get sick and let me tell you peri peri chips are just as spicy the second time around. 

Bangalore passed in a haze of sleep and nausea for me. Melissa explored the malls a bit during the day and in the evening we ventured out for dinner although I couldn't stomach anything other than a coke. 

That night we took another sleeper bus to Ooty. This time I was so exhausted from the bug I slept deeply the whole trip. Ooty is lush and cool with rushing waterfalls and deep valleys. We discovered we could walk to our accommodation which meant we had the satisfaction of escaping the over-eager rickshaw drivers. 

We decided to do some 'trekking' as thats the thing to do in Ooty apparently. So we teamed up with another couple of girls and took a guided walk up the highest point in South India. On the way up I discovered I wasn't feeling 100% which made for a challenging climb. 

That afternoon we arranged for a driver to take us to a Tiger reserve. We chose to do a mini bus tour which lasted 45 minutes. 'Animal sighting is purely luck' the signs depressingly warned us as we boarded the stinking hot bus. As luck would have it the majority of the other passengers were over excited adolescent males. They hoicked and spat and laughed as my hopes of seeing a tiger quietly dissolved. 

Barely 5 minutes into the tour our bus gave an unhealthy sounding hiccup and refused to move. So back to the depot we went to get a new bus. To make a long story short the tour narrowly avoided being a complete waste of money as we did see the blur of a leopard out the window. It was hunting deer and we disturbed it. The sound of people shushing each other was louder than the boys giggles. 

So that was Ooty. Christmas eve arrived and we hopped on yet another dreaded bus to Mysore to meet our friend at her parents for Christmas. 

Christmas day was very different from form home. We visited a palace in Mysore accompanied by our amazing hostess Ragini and her room mate Lalitha. We also spent some time at a beautiful little market. Later that evening Lalitha gave us henna tattoos and we relaxed in front of the TV. 

So that's it for now! I hope this has been mildly interesting to read and I apologise in advance for any awful typos. I really can't be bothered proofreading it so please accept this in it's raw original form from the key pad of my phone on a mattress in Mysore.

Love Ayla

Gorgeous Goa

Hello again,

Well we have moved on from Mumbai now and arrived in Goa last night. Our Bollywood experience was interesting to say the least. It really isn't as glamorous as we imagined.There was a lot of sitting around. We did got to talk to other traveler's though which is always good.Unfortunately they didn't give us enough food and the director was a tad abusive to his staff but we are glad we did it. 

Today we rode an elephant at the Tropical Spice Gardens. It was a 400rs entrance fee which included a 45 minute tour and really good lunch. We also tasted the local beer which killed any bugs we might have had. Later we visited Old Goa and saw the body of St Francis Xavier. He is displayed once every 10 years so we are lucky to see him. Goa is very Catholic. The houses are beautiful and the Portuguese influence is clearly visible. Tomorrow we will go to the beach and see what all the fuss is about.

Goa is fascinating and peaceful after Mumbai. Palms line the streets and Buffalo roam freely. We are thoroughly enjoying ourselves and everyone we meet is so helpful.

I am writing this from a tiny internet cafe and Melissa is patiently waiting beside me so I will leave you now.

Bye!

P.S We took a 16 hour bus journey yesterday and our bus broke down two hours from our destination. We have learnt a very useful phrase over here: "Chalega". It translates to "No problem." The Indian version of "She'll be right." Just like in New Zealand this is more than just a phrase. It's a way of life.

Mumbai adventures.

It's been almost a week since Melissa and I arrived in Mumbai, India. So much has happened I don't know where to begin.

Mumbai has been good to us. Everyone we have come across has been so helpful and many people have gone out of their way to look out for us.

Before we arrived, people told us what India would be like... There were many negative stereotypes and I am happy to report none of these have proved to be true.

Our first day in Mumbai was spent taking a taxi tour of the main sights. We visited the hanging gardens, Doby Ghat (the largest laundry in Asia), and drove past a section of the slums.

Our taxi driver gave us a really good deal including the tip and dropped us off at our uni friends place in the western suburbs of Mumbai.

Day two included a trip to the beach. Beaches in Mumbai are very different to those in New Zealand. We were expecting a lot of rubbish and sadly that was what we got. Swimming was out of the question.

We visited a Hare Krishna temple that afternoon followed by an hour of class in an Indian school. The friend we are staying with is a teacher and invited us to interact with the children. It was library hour so we read aloud with them. So far I think that has been one of the best experiences of the trip.

That evening we wandered around the suburbs trying to understand Indian city life. There is too much going on explain to give an accurate picture so I suggest you all come and see it for yourselves. The smells, sounds, flavours and colours of India are so rich and alive. At the end of the day the cities essence remains on your skin in a thin grey layer.

Our short stay in Mumbai has already given us so much to think about. One day in Mumbai is equal to a week at home from the sheer amount of things to see and do.

One evening our friend took us on the train to Marine drive. We watched the lights of the city and bought some bubble mix from a person on the street. We passed a happy few hours blowing bubbles. It really is the simple pleasures in life.

The next day, Thursday, Melissa and I took a public train on our own to the gateway of India. There were large crowds and people trying to sell us photos, postcards, blessings, tours etc . we are learning how to be very assertive here!!

We had planned to visit Elephanta island but we had left it too late in the day. On Friday we returned via rush hour public train. Quite the experience! Again assertiveness is key to enjoying this place. It pays to be relaxed and sure of yourself without being rude. Once we had pushed ourselves on and off this train we bought economy tickets to Elephanta island. As it turns out this is rather unusual for tourists as the 'luxury class' is only slightly more expensive. We are so cheap. It paid off in the end though as we got to hang with local families.

Elephanta island is a series of large, ancient, carved caves. We wandered around for about two hours. The Lonely Planet suggested we didn't take a guide which took some effort as they were very friendly.

The day ended with a train ride home where we made friends with two local girls who spoke excellent English.

There is so much more I'm sure I've forgotten to include. It has been difficult to update this blog as we have been so busy!

Tonight we have been invited to be extras in a Bollywood film! I am way too excited about this. We have to stay up from 11pm to 8am which might be difficult after the day we have had!

Any way I'll post again soon!

Chalti hoon. Xx