Moshi Part One – Life in the town and around

Well, what a time in Tanzania we have had. We are now in Sumbawanga, near the eastern shore of Lake Tanganyika after leaving Moshi almost two weeks ago. We stayed in Moshi for over five weeks—becoming local-like—and loved it. But our time there had to end.

This post is part one of a three part series on our life in Moshi. This first post covers our life in the town, the hostel, and around. The second covers our time volunteering. While the third covers our four-day wildlife safari to Tarangire, Serengeti, Ngorogoro National Parks.

Exploring the double streets of Moshi

Moshi is a funny little town, full of a mix of locals in need, locals with money, tourists passing through on their way to climb Mt Kilimanjaro or safaris nearby, pesky tourist touts chasing our dollars, and volunteers like us. Few would call the town pretty. But it definitely had its own character with dusty streets and friendly locals calling us mzungu—meaning white person.

It is dominated by two parallel streets—double road and single road—and the towering snow-capped beauty of Mt Kilimanjaro behind. There are pleasant cafes serving local coffee and attempts at Western and Indian foods. Service is often slow and sometimes meals are missed, particularly if Mary—an volunteer at our hostel—was ordering. Pole sana—meaning a sincere ‘very sorry’—Mary.

Dalladallas—local minibuses—ply the streets with activity and noise while traders sell anything from boxer shorts and second-hand shoes to TV antennas and bananas on the footpaths. There are many clothes makers, building suppliers, electronic stores, and phone agents around. And it was difficult to miss the mix of cultures: with Hindu and Sikh temples, Muslim mosques, and Christian churches all vying for followers.

Electricity is sporadic though and security a concern everywhere. Most banks have smiling armed guards. All windows are bared. And even locals avoid walking around at night. And although we had no security breaches ourselves (luckily), one volunteer at our hostel got his wallet stolen while riding a dalladalla and another, her purse on double road. Pole sana again.

So that was our town: the dusty streets of Moshi. And at its centre—at least for us—was Hostel Hoff.

Making friends at Hostel Hoff

Hostel Hoff was a great home—and we made loads of friends.

The hostel is actually a three bedroom house that sits in the northern end of Moshi. There are two canvas tents and a small ablution block (with another two small rooms) in the backyard for more guests and two giant mango trees in the front. Along one side there is a sloping lawn with a volleyball net. Out back are a concreted outdoor dining area and a dart board. People prepared our breakfast and dinner, washed our clothes, cleaned our rooms, and kept us safe at night. Not too shabby really.

Food was solid too. Pancakes, fruit, toast, eggs, and hot drinks for breakfast. Rice, beans, potatoes, pasta, fish pie, more fruit, and meat for dinner. Although some meals were a bit hit and miss, there was always plenty to eat.

Everyone staying at the hostel volunteered. Some teaching and others helping out at orphanages or running courses for local woman. And everyone was foreign. Most from Europe, including from Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Germany, the UK, and Switzerland. There were also a bunch of Canadians, a couple of Americans, one Australian, some Israelis and another Kiwi. If nothing else, we gained a number of couches to sleep on in Europe!

Most of our weekdays were spent volunteering (see our next post) and chilling out. Reading and watching movies was common. But drinking even more so; there were several passable bars in town and always someone keen to share a beer so we visited them regularly. On weekends we went on missions (see below), played sport or drank some more. We even found a place to watch the rugby during the world cup.

It was student flatting life really with the added bonus of being in Africa.

Missions around

Moshi is well located for missions—and we went on several. Some successful. Others not.

On our second day in Moshi we took a dalladalla into the hills below Mt Kilimanjaro to find a waterfall. Feed by snow-melt and over 20 meters high, it offered spectacular views. But for the locals, it offered (equally) spectacular views of barely-clad mzungu ladies bathing (albeit briefly) in its waters. That is the cost of visiting such places, I suppose. We get to walk through villages, take pictures of smiling children, and practice our Swahili. While the locals are entertained, by us.

Another success was our overnight camp at the volcanic Lake Chala—which straddles Tanzania’s northern border with Kenya. Popular with tourists and locals alike, the lake is guarded by a rocky ridgeline covered in light vegetation that is home to various monkeys and other wildlife. At times crocodiles have been seen in the lake. But after assurances that none were now present, we braved the refreshing waters. Elephants do graze on the plains below, however. And offered us great sport as we tracked—at a safe distanced—their progress through the sparse African savannah.

4WDs are great fun, especially when roads are muddy—and this is exactly what we found when looking for coffee plantations on the lower slopes of Mt Kilimanjaro. Many roads in Tanzania are made of dirt. So when it rains a thick layer of muddy goo forms on top. But our driver / guide was undeterred, forcing his Landcruiser from bank to bank as he slide up (and then down) the road. Several times locals were roped in to help move the car out of ditches and car overheated more than once. So, eventually giving up, we glided back to Moshi to drown our sorrows over milkshakes.

Another failure was our trip to the nearby town of Arusha to watch the Rwanda genocide trials. Some courts are notorious for holding sessions that are closed to the public—and it turns out that these trials are no exception. We got to the court early; the court was in a private session. We were told to return later; we did, but the court was in another private session. After lunch, the same deal. There was really nothing we could do. So we returned home to Moshi a little dejected.

* * * * *

So that is Moshi. Look out for our next posts.

Love to all,

xxx

New Photos

Hi Guys

Just a quick post to let you know we've finally added the photos from the last few weeks in India and our brief stop over in Cairo.
We will write a post about what we've been up to in Moshi, Tanzania when we get motivated in the mean time enjoy the photos

xxxxx

The last of India: Jaisalmer, Jodhpur, Udaipur, Mt Abu, Ahmadabad, and Mumbai

We have been slack with our blog posts.  We are now in the Tanzanian town of Moshi, having flown here (via Cairo) from Mumbai just over a week ago.  We plan to stay here for about a month, volunteering with kids during the week and going on safaris—meaning trip in Swahili—on weekends. 

Future posts give more details on Tanzania while this post tells of our final few weeks in India—which were action-packed.  We rode camels, explored forts, and walked streets in Jaisalmer, Jodhpur, Udaipur, and Mt Abu, and stopped off in Ahmadabad before acting in Mumbai.

Camels safari in Jaisalmer

Eli here.

Jaisalmer is impressive.  A golden fort, stone walls, merchant-commissioned havelis, and tourists—all surrounded by the Thar Desert and hundreds of wind turbines stretching all the way to the Pakistani border.  We stayed five nights, four in the city and one in the desert.

Our first stop was the Jaisalmer Fort—our favourite so far.  Built in 1156, its crumbling walls and bastions stand atop a hill, high above Jaisalmer city.  People still live inside manning hotels, restaurants and sari stores.  There are several Jain and Hindu temples, a Maharaja palace museum, a post shop, and numerous auto-rickshaw drivers.  We spent several hours wandering the fort’s stone-paved alleyways; spying cannons on corners, and the Jaisalmer standard high above.

The palace itself is well restored and maintained. The carvings were spectacular and the paintings and mirror work stunning. Overcoming our aversion to audio guides, we greatly enjoyed donning the headphones and hearing the history of the place.

Rain is not common in Jaisalmer.  But it was when we where there.  One particular downpour while we were in the fort led to a flash flood.  Foot-high waters raced down the fort’s steep entry ramp as bystanders sought shelter among alcoves.  Exciting as this was, it was not our only adventure...

Camels are unique beasts.  Hairy with attitude.  Lanky with a rhythmic, lurching walk.  Why would anyone want to ride them?  And into the desert no less?  Well that’s what we did on a two day safari.  And we loved it!

Heading west, we rode into the sandy scrub that is the Thar Desert.  Passing goat herds, foxes, and vegetable plantations, we arrived at our campsite set against a collection of Sahara-like sand dunes.  Our guides made meals of Marsala chai, chapatti and curry as the camels swatted flies.  And our camels carried us with limited complaint.

We slept on the dunes.  A sunset, a sunrise, stars, and a spectacular lightning show kept us entertained.  While rain and accompanying winds kept us busy holding the makeshift tent together.  But we slept well. Well I did at least, Claire not so much.

Before returning to Jaisalmer, we stopped at the small village of Kuldhara.  Now abandoned, villagers left in the 1600s after then Prime Minister Salim Singh pushed for higher taxes.  Some houses have been restored for Bollywood film sets.

Our next stop was Jodhpur—a seven hour bus ride away.

Forts in Jodhpur

Jodhpur is dominated by its huge fort and blue buildings.  Its streets bustle with traders selling fresh vegetables, hot chai, and cell phones.  Cows slow traffic and leave mess.  And children ask for money and pens.  We stayed three days in the city taking in the major sites.

Set high above Jodhpur on a rocky ridge, Mehrangarth Fort is enchanting and popular.  Its large gates and 36m high wall guards a collection of palaces and courtyards.  A large collection of relics, including weapons and armour, adorn many rooms.   And comfortable interiors show off the Maharaja’s extravagance.  The fort also houses an important Hindu temple.

Our other major site was Jaswant Thada—a peaceful white marble memorial to Maharaja Jaswant Singh II.  Built in 1899, the memorial has views of the city and intricate lattices.  Many Indian tourists visit the site.

There are other minor sites in Jodhpur, but we gave these a miss.  Instead, we spent the rest of our time wandering the streets.  One of our favourite stops was the Shri Mishrilal Hotel—a popular hole-in-the-wall shop selling creamy makhania lassis: a yoghurt drink laced with saffron, cardamom and cashew nuts.

From Jodhpur, we bussed further south to Udaipur.

Romance in Udaipur

Claire here.

Supposedly India’s most romantic spot, Udaipur is popular with Indian tourists.  There are lakes to walk around and palaces to explore.

The Lake Palace hotel; one of India’s most expensive hotels (we didn’t stay there) and famous for its starring role in the James Bond movie Octopussy dominates the lake around which the city sits.  Once again the city consisted of winding narrow streets bustling with activity and loud noisy colourful temples.

We explored the surrounding area on foot and bikes visiting gardens left over from the maharajas rein and a neighbouring lake overflowing with water for the first time in many years—much to the joy and marvel of the locals.

Eli’s top choice of sights in Udaipur was the Maharaja’s collection of classic cars including...(I’ll let him tell you)...a 1938 Cadillac with modifications, a 1956 Mercedes Benz 180D and the 1934 Rolls Royce Phantom II used in Octopussy.

My top choice was an Indian cooking class.  Run by the lovely Sashi—a woman who has overcome many odds.  We learnt a huge variety of Indian dishes and then proceeded to stuff ourselves silly eating the results.

Walking in Mt Abu

Our last stop in Rajasthan was Mt Abu where we headed to escape the heat.  At an elevation of 1200m, Mt Abu is the only hill station in the state and thus is a magnet for Indian weekenders and honeymooners.  Knowing we were nearing the end of our trip we used the opportunity to eat as much Indian food as possible and visit just one last temple complex.

The Dilwara temples are Jain temples on which building began in 1031.  For some reason the carvers who completed the decorative work on the temples were paid by the size of the pile of dust they created resulting in some of the most intricately carved stone work you will see anywhere in the world.

Being so high, Mt Abu has some impressive viewpoints.  Most importantly, its sunset points—of which there are a few.  The only downside is that every other tourist—western and Indian alike—find these sunsets equally appealing and clog the roads with people trolleys and horses racing to find the best spots.

Next we headed south to Mumbai, stopping off at the main city of Gujarat province, Ahmadabad.

Stopping over in Ahmadabad

Eli here.

Ahmadabad is a useful stop off when travelling north or south, but not much else.  There are few attractions and the city is relatively boring.  We stayed only one night and visited only one site: Sabarmati Ashram.

This ashram was Ghandi’s headquarters as he fought for Indian independence from the British during the 30s and 40s.  Now it is a museum dedicated to his life—and his successes.  His house is here, complete with cutlery and a chair.  And much of his library remains, as does a copy of a letter he wrote to Hitler in the build up to WWII advising against aggression.

Acting in Mumbai

Mumbai was a blast.  We stayed five nights, making the most of Mumbai’s clean footpaths and orderly traffic.

We’re not ones to boast, but we are now movie stars...well, Bollywood stars at least.  As India’s equivalent to Hollywood, Bollywood turns out an impressive number of movies—most involving a compilation of dramatised songs tied together by some tenuous love / action story.  As such, there is a constant demand for extras, including foreigners.  And this is where we come in. 

Every week casting agents prowl the streets for tourists to put on black suits and flashy dresses and stand (or dance) in colourful movie sets.  Some agents—the smart ones—even target tourists before they check in to hotels.  This happened to us.  We were given roles in a movie about a wedding, which is presently called Shaadi Fast Forward. (Movie names tend to change many times before they screen).

Our scene was set in a London nightclub; where the famous Indian actress Bipasha Basu danced in the centre dressed in white while we held fake drinks made of coke, water and food colouring around the outside.  The set was orange, green, and white and the music became repetitive as each take only lasted a few seconds.  There were dancers, extras, stage crew, and a very particular director—over 100 people in total.

Organisation was an issue, however.  First, there was a lack of clothes and makeup.  Second, we didn’t get on set until after 8pm—having arrived at the studio at 9am.  And third, there was confusion on set about whether we should dance or stand still during filming.  But despite the confusion, we enjoyed the experience.

Eating food is one of our favourite past times—and Mumbai did not disappoint.  On our first day we were taken on a tour of parsi cuisine by our dear friend Sarosh, eating such foods as patra ni machhi (steamed fish wrapped in banana leaf) and mutton dhansak.  On other days we ate Afghani kebabs, south Indian dosas, and Guajarati thalis—all in an effort to leave a lasting taste of India in our mouths.

Walking is also a pass time, but I would be lying if I called a favourite (especially for Claire).  Mumbai is home to many Victorian buildings that can be (and were) seen on foot.  The Prince of Wales museum, the High Court of Bombay, the Victoria Train Terminus, and Mumbai University are all stunning examples with high arches and stain glass windows.  The nearby Monetary Museum gave an intriguing 2600 year history of India’s monetary system, including the world’s smallest coin—which is only a few millimetres wide.

Other sites included: the washing Ghats of Mahalazmi Dhobi where hundreds of shirts, dresses, and sheets hang in the sun; and the markets of Mangaldas and Crawford where Indians come to haggle over everything from animal cages to sari material.

*  *  *  *  *

India was great, but it had to end sometime.  And it did with our Egypt Air flight to Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania via Cairo.

Love to all,

xxx

Our Rajasthan adventure begins: Jaipur, Pushkar, and Bikaner

Our India adventure continues. Read this post to hear all about our time in Jaipur, Pushkar and Bikaner.

Jaipur

Claire here.

From Delhi we headed southwest on the train to Jaipur. After a late night catching up with Uryia we were glad for our comfy air conditioned carriage complete with complimentary breakfast, chai, water and newspapers. A little bit of luxury after too many bumpy bus rides!

Jaipur was once a walled city; but with massive population growth it now sprawls well beyond its huge defensive walls. Sometimes called the pink city due to its pinkish-coloured sandstone buildings, the old city of Jaipur is now a chaotic jumble of bazaars and old buildings set to a soundtrack of traffic noise and honking horns.

There are a number of impressive buildings built by various rulers to visit inside the old city. We started with Hawa Mahal—a tall building on the corner of the main intersection build in 1799 built specifically so the royal women could watch the life and processions of the city. Several stories high but only one room deep, it has many shady alcoves with tiny windows from where the royal ladies could peep out at the city below without being seen.

Right next door to Hawa Mahal is Jantar Mantar—an observatory built by the founder of Jaipur Maharaja Jai Singh in 1728. Not really my thing, I stuck to the shade while Eli inspected the huge instruments that measure time and eclipses, mark the passing of the zodiac, and plot celestial bodies. They were certainly impressive both in size and their alleged accuracy.

Our final historic building of the day was a climb to the top of Iswaru Minar Swarga Sal (heaven piercing minaret) for views over the whole of Jaipur.

That evening we dined at Thali House. Thalis have fast become one of our standard meals. Usually served on a metal tray with little depression for each dish, they usually consist of 2 veggie curries, dhal (lentils), rice, chapatti (bread) and curd (yoghurt). The best ones are ‘unlimited’, meaning all you can eat. Thali House had particularly enthusiastic waiters meaning our plates were replenished frequently and many, many chapatti were eaten. A tasty and satisfying meal for less than $2 each.

Amber Fort is yet another one of India’s impressive forts. Situated at Amber, a short distance from Jaipur, it is built from a beautiful honey-coloured stone and sits imposingly on top of a hill overlooking the town. It features multiple courtyards surrounded by intricately-carved and decorated stone terraces and archways leading to various royal chambers.

From Jaipur it was another bumpy bus ride to the Hindu pilgrimage town of Pushkar.

Pushkar

We tend to do a bit more research about accommodation in India before arriving in each new town than we have in other countries. This is how we found the very welcoming and accommodating Hotel Everest—which was our base for our stay in Pushkar.

Set around a small lake completely encircled by Ghats for bathing in the sacred waters, Pushkar is a small town that caters to an eclectic mix of tourists and pilgrims. Religious edicts state no meat, eggs or alcohol; yet we still ate and drank well in many restaurants around town.

Pushkar is a pleasant place to simply wander around exploring the many temples set among the winding streets. We also found a hotel where non-guests could swim and enjoyed a pleasant afternoon escaping the heat by the pool where a family or tortoises reside.

Bikaner

Eli here.

Bikaner is a funny city with its crumbling brick wall and dusty winding streets, camels tow fresh fruit and building materials and auto-rickshaws get in fights with motorbike riders—but it also lacks tourists, which we appreciate. There were two main attractions for us, so we stayed two days.

Our first attraction was Junagarh Fort—an imposing fort with luxurious palaces, watch towers, a large symmetrical garden, and many rooms of history. There were many Indian tourists but only two other foreigners; all admiring the mirror-tiled private chambers of Maharaja Gaj Singh or the intricately carved arches leading to the hall of private audience. Although the fort has its moments, it doesn’t really compare the Amber or Jaislamer forts (see next post).

Our second attraction, and perhaps the bigger of the two, was Karni Mata Temple—a temple devoted to rat worship. Not surprisingly, Claire gave this one a miss.

Now these are not your average good-looking (and clean) white rats. No, they are the particularly more grotesque-looking dirty grey rats with messy hair and evil eyes. I am not a rat expert by any means, but these were ugly rats. Perhaps the use of less appealing rats is designed to test ones devotion: the uglier the rat the harder it is to worship so the easier it is to separate out the true follows from imposters. But despite their appearances, true followers believe that these rats are reincarnated relatives of Karni Mata; herself an incarnation of the Hindu deity Durga.

The temple is small by our standards, with only a few corridors of black and white checked marble floors and an inner sanctum guarded by large silver doors. The rats are well looked after though. Holes are cut in the walls so that they can roam freely. Worshipers dispense sugar balls brought from the stalls outside. And temple minders leave large bowls of milk in the corners.

But the temple is not for the fainthearted. It smells. Rat droppings are everywhere and the sugar balls make the floor sticky when you walk barefoot, as required. A rat running over your feet—which happens regularly—is good luck and spotting a white rat—which I did—is even luckier.

Another minor attraction was the Jain temple of Bhandasar—which, with floral carvings and painted stories, is stunning. The ground floor houses minarets of the sentries of the gods while the roof offers views of the city.

Bizarrely, legend has it that 40,000 kg of ghee was used in the mortar instead of water. In food ghee works. But in buildings it does not. Apparently the floors of the temple gets greasy on hot days. The question remains as to why one would use ghee in the first place...

We liked the city, but are unlikely to return. Something about the combination of heat and lack of attractions makes it a ‘oncer’.

* * * * *

We are currently in Jaisalmer; read all about our time here and our camel safari in the Thar Desert in the next post. Coming soon.

Love to all,

xxxxx

Our Indian sojourn continues: Manali, McLeod Ganj, and Amritsar

Well, what a busy few weeks on our way here to Pushkar—a small town in eastern Rajasthan. First, Claire went to hospital in Manali with ‘Delhi belly’. Then we just missed the Dalai Lama in McLeod Ganj. And, finally, we were inspired by the Golden (Sikh) Temple in Amritsar.

But before telling these stories, I should tell you a little more about our time in Agra...

Agra take two...

Claire was so focused on talking about the Taj Mahal in our last post that she forgot about two other important sites: Agra Fort and nearby Fatehpur Sikri.

Agra Fort is a majestic red-sandstone fort and palace just west of the Taj Mahal. Surrounded by double outer walls, the fort houses a series of interconnected tunnels, towers, and rooms. Much of the interior is made of white marble and decorated with mosaics, arches, and balconies. There are private and public halls, a ladies bazaar, an elephant fighting pit, and several mosques. And it offers unobstructed views of the Taj Mahal. It makes for a pretty impressive prison really—which was the fate of one of its rulers, Shah Jahan, who was imprisoned by his son in 1658.

India is dam hot in summer; and Agra Fort is no exception. Crowds brave the heat with umbrellas and turbines while entrepreneurs profit from it by selling iceblocks and cooled coconut. It is not surprising that the moot surrounding the fort was dry—and had been for long time.

Fatehpur Sikri is a fortified ghost city just west of Agra. Once the capital of the Mughal Empire, the much revered ruler Akbar made the simple mistake of building the city where there was no water.

But his mistake does not detract from the city’s architectural splendour. Palaces and pavilions, mosques, gardens, an ornamental pool, and an astrologer’s kiosk make for enticing viewing. Arches lead into alcoves that lead into stone columns. Some have intricate carvings while others are protected by blue Persian roof tiles. And, apart from the odd Indian tourist, the city was relatively empty when we visited. The only real pain: the constant demands for our used entry tickets made by local kids.

...now, back to Manali, McLeod Ganj and Amritsar.

Hospitals in Manali

As Claire noted earlier, we nibbled our way through street food in Delhi. This may not have been our best idea...

Claire is usually a complacent traveller on long, bumpy, dusty, crowded and hot overnight bus rides. But not this time. After a restless sleep bussing north from Delhi to Manali, Claire began showing the classical symptoms of the infamous tummy bug, ‘Delhi belly.’

Upon our arrival into Manali it became clear that she was not well. This diagnosis was confirmed after she was admitted to an emergency room the next day with dehydration and acute gastroenteritis. The cause: unknown but presumed to be Delhi street food. Fortunately her stay at the hospital was brief (about 3 hours); and after some intravenous fluids, antibiotics, and some prescription drugs, it was back to bed for her.

This left me with some alone time to fill. Most of it was spent exploring Manali with its cool climate, fast-flowing river, pine-tree covered ranges, and mix of Buddhist and Hindu cultures. Gompas—not unlike those in Nepal and western Sichuan province—are draped in colour prayer flags in the Tibetan area of town while the Hindu temple of Hadimba nestles between pine trees and is decorated with woodcarvings and bull horns further up the road.

The people are friendly enough; with tourism an important trade for the town. Stores selling Tibetan clothes and Hindu paintings line the muddy streets, while food vendors offer Indian sweets, samousas, and masala chai.

Owing to its relaxed vibe, Manali is also a bit of backpacker ghetto. Many foreigners come here to smoke dope and be lazy. Others come for paragliding, zorbing, canyoning, and other outdoor activities. But we fall into neither category. Instead, we were transit travellers: seeking to head further north to the Buddhist-influenced city of Leh in Ladakh province.

But, unfortunately, the weather was not on our side as heavy rains closed the temperamental Manali-Leh highway. So, after Claire recovered, we instead bussed west to McLeod Ganj—home of the Dalai Lama, the exiled leader of Tibet.

Buddhism in McLeod Ganj

McLeod Ganj is one of the wettest places on earth. Even more so than the west coast of New Zealand’s South Island. And it showed: it rained on every day of the four that we stayed.

Fortunately it has good drainage. Sitting atop a ridge just north of Dharamsala and nestled amongst pine forests, McLeod Ganj was originally established as a British garrison in the 1850s. Now it is home to the Tibetan government in exile, including its leader the Dalai Lama—who, unfortunately, was away in Europe during our visit.

Tibetan influence is everywhere: with prayer flags, red-robe-wearing lamas, stupas, and momo-selling food vendors dotted around. But so too is the presence of Indians who trade with Tibetans and tourists alike. The two cultures seem to fit comfortably together, for now. But there must be a tipping point. How long I wonder before local Indians begin to protest the growing number of Tibetans?

There are many important sites in McLeod Ganj. The Tibet Museum was well worth the sobering visit. Photos and film of atrocities and protest after the Chinese invasion of Tibet in 1949 show the plight of many innocent people. It is truly distressing how little the West got involved.

Also, a walk around the Tsuglaghang complex was rewarding. The complex includes the Dalai Lama’s residence, his government’s secretariat, and several gompas. Many Tibetan pilgrims—and tourists like us—follow the semi-wilderness path that snakes around the outside of the complex.

Apart from walking the streets of McLeod Ganj, our only other adventure was a short loop walk through pine forests and the nearby villages of Bhagsu and Dharamkot. Views along this walk are normally inspiring. But when the weather sets in the views are less so. We got the latter.

We have experienced many religions (and cultures) during our trip; and so after leaving McLeod Ganj for the Sikh city of Amritsar (in Punjab province) further south it was time to say goodbye to another, for a while at least—Tibetan Buddhism.

Sikhs in Amritsar

Sikhism is a relatively new religion founded in Punjab province in the 15^th century as a reaction to the caste system. Many devotees wear turbans of all colours and all believe in reincarnation and karma—much like Buddhists and Hindus. Spiritual idols are called gurus and the Sikhs’ holiest shrine is the Golden Temple in Amritsar—and this is what we came to see.

It is a magnificent temple complex and free for all to see. A gleaming two-story golden temple stands in the middle of a sacred blue pool and is reached along a narrow causeway packed with pilgrims queuing to enter. The temple is made of marble and the pool is surrounded by a wide walkway. Some pilgrims bathe in the sacred waters while others rest under archways away from the sun. A loud continuous chant echoes around the complex and everyone walks barefoot with headscarfs.

The complex also houses museums, a tower, the Sikh parliament, and dorm rooms. But perhaps one of the more interesting dimensions to the complex is its dining hall—which offers free meals to all. It is a massive operation serving more than 60,000 vegetarian meals per day to pilgrims sitting cross-legged on the floor. Making the most of the opportunity, we ate dal, chapatti, and rice pudding for lunch with the masses.

The other main attraction of Amritsar lies 30 km west of the city: the India-Pakistan border closing ceremony at Wagah. The ceremony is pure theatre. Just before sunset every evening, border guards from both countries engage in an exchange of loud salutes, comical goose-steeping, trumpeting, gate opening and closing, and flag lowering. There is some kind of rhythm to the exchange. But we were unable to pick it.

The exchange is not just between border guards. In fact, the ceremony has become as much as spectator activity as anything else. Large grandstands have been built on both sides of the border to watch the ceremony where crowds exchange cheers and compete in flag relays. But despite the good nature of both sides, it is clear that the Indian supporters far outweigh their Pakistani counterparts.

We thoroughly enjoyed the event, as much for the organisation required to seat all the Indian supporters as for the ceremony itself.

After the excitement of Amritsar, it was time to head back to Delhi on our way to the fort-covered state of Rajasthan.

Delhi

A short stopover was all that was required of Delhi before heading to Jaipur, Pushkar, and further into Rajasthan.

We had two missions: visit the Red Fort and meet our friend Uryia. The fort was nothing special so I won’t bore you with the details.

After both were complete we moved on: leaving behind India’s capital, which for me was nothing special but not a drag either.

* * * * *

Pushkar is an attractive town. But we won’t stay forever: next we head to Bikaner and further west into Rajasthan in search of more forts and camel safaris.

Love to all,

xxx.

Varanasi, Agra, Delhi

This is a pretty short post but once again we are further in our travels than in our writing. We are currently in McLeod Ganj home of the Dalai Lama enjoying another little bit of Tibetan culture to make up for our lost trip to Tibet.

So here it is the first little taste of India. More to come soon; I promise!

Varanasi

After a less than fantastic night’s sleep at the border town of Bhairahawa we were up early and across the border in the rain for another long bone shaking bus ride to the Indian city of Varanasi.  The only word to describe Varanasi is overwhelming.  One of the oldest cities in the world and one of the holiest cities in India, Varanasi assaults all your senses.

Sitting alongside the Ganges River the city is a pilgrimage site for Hindus who come to bathe in the river’s sacred water; thus it is teeming with people all heading along the narrow streets towards or away from the river.  Also considered an auspicious place to die, the river is lined with cremation sites where bodies are openly burned.

Certainly an intense way to start our adventure in India: our time in Varanasi was spent exploring the narrow streets of the old city.  The streets are messy, noisy, and crowded.  Cows defecate everywhere and munch on rubbish left behind by an uncaring public.  But people walk on through.  Pilgrims wear orange and walk with painted faces and flower baskets full of holy (Ganges) water.   Others clap gongs and other noise-making devices in some—as of yet—unidentified rhythm.

After a very rattly overnight train trip we arrived in Agra.

Agra

People pretty much come to Agra for one thing: to visit the Taj Mahal.

It’s hard to know what to write about the Taj Mahal.  Everything has been written before and everyone has seen the photos.  It is an exceedingly beautiful building.  But somehow I was not a blown away as many previous visitors were.  I found it a bit lifeless (apart from all the tourists); unlike many other places we have visited it doesn’t breathe spirituality it’s not alive with worship and meaning.   It sits surrounded by its gracious gardens somehow apart from the scruffy city surrounding it.

 And there you go. I may be the only person in history to go to the Taj Mahal and write a less than stellar review.

Delhi

Everything we had heard suggested Delhi would be a pretty intense experience: mayhem.  However we actually found it not as bad as we expected...obviously we are now seasoned travellers whom nothing fazes!  We stayed just one day in Delhi.  But, being a Monday, none of the major sights we open so we spent the day wandering the streets of Old Delhi taking in the sights and smells of the spice and cloth markets, nibbling on street snacks, and generally taking it all in.

******

Coming up next Manali and Mcleod Ganj with a detour to the emergency room

Love to all

xxxx

The last of Nepal: Chitwan National Park, Pokhara, and the Poon Hill Trek

A whirlwind tour—we are now in Dehli, India at the start of our tour of the subcontinent. We have already visited the Hindi cultural hub of Varanasi and the magnificent Taj Mahal of Agra.

But those adventures are for our next post. Below we tell of the last of our time in Nepal: tiger chasing in Chitwan National Park and trekking around Pokhara.

Chitwan National Park

Eli here.

Chitwan National Park is a magical place—and home to some impressive animals: wild elephants, rhinos, and tigers to name but a few. We based ourselves in Sauraha (on the northern border) and spent one long day exploring the park and another looking at nearby attractions.

Day one. Seven am was our start time: with two park rangers as our guides we set off for a 10-hour trek. Although animals are harder to spot at this time of year—due to the tall native grasses and the monsoon weather—we weren’t disappointed with the animals we found.

First, gharial crocodiles slithered their long bony bodies back into the river after being disturbed by our canoe-based arrival into the park. Next, a herd of spotted deer bolted—albeit in a circular path around us—after hearing our intrusion into their morning feeding. Monkeys were spotted from time to time swinging high in the tree tops. And little red and black winged-insects were unintentionally squashed as they ate rotting fruit that lay below our feet.

But our most exciting find came a little later. After reaching a hide for a break we were quickly, but quietly, led to a nearby mud pool where a rhino was bathing. Excellent hearing and smell but poor vision meant that the usually temperamental animal made a steady retreat further into the thick grasses. Just our luck!

Our brief encounter raised our adrenaline. But, unfortunately, we found little else except for more bolting deer and swinging monkeys. We did trail a series of (fresh) tiger paw prints—which got us excited for a while—and dine on fresh mangos that our guides knocked out of trees with large trekking sticks.

But between the leeches, the hides, and the monsoon downpours, we still had fun.

Day two. At lunch time every day domesticated elephants bathe in the river that borders Sauraha. Popular with tourists, we were happy enough watching people fall ungracefully into the waters.

But our elephant encounters weren’t over. Next, we biked to the nearby elephant breeding centre where keepers care for elephants of all ages. These elephants mix with the wild population in Citwan National Park.

But, despite the keepers’ efforts, the centre was not impressive. Elephants were chained to wooden poles on small grassless mounds. Some had both legs chained together and all were separated. Most swayed in a semi-hypnotic dance just before feeding time—behaviour typical of captive animals.

There was one baby elephant that was free to roam, but hid behind its mother (and other relatives) as tourists walked by.

With our wildlife viewing complete, we bussed to the lakeside city of Pokhara—about six hours northwest of Sauraha.

Pokhara

Resting beside Phewa Lake, Pokhara is a quiet little city with short buildings and snaky streets. There are samousa stalls, over-stocked outdoor stores, and empty hotels. Locals sell anything from silk scarfs and pastries to paragliding trips and non-metered taxi rides, but struggle in the tourist offseason.

We stayed five nights in total; spending our days wondering the streets, drinking marsala tea, and preparing for our Poon Hill hike (see below).

One day I went on a solo mission up to the World Peace Pagoda. Funded by the Japanese Buddhist Association, this little—by our standards—pagoda was well-proportioned, white, round, and golden. With a stray dog as its protector, the pagoda overlooks Pokhara and the surrounding valleys. And when the weather is good—which it wasn’t—it offers stunning views of the 8000 plus meter high Annapurna and Manaslu ranges.

By the time I got there, I passed a troupe of monkeys looking for trouble, several couples struggling to ride scooters up the gravel path, female Chinese tourists in high heels holding cameras, local kids asking for lollies and pens, and a collection of huts and corn plantations.

On the way back to Pokhara I stopped off at the overhyped Devi’s Falls—which although misty and raging were nothing compared to waterfalls back in NZ.

Poon Hill

Claire here.

The negotiations on lengths of treks in Nepal began weeks in advance. It’s fair to say that walking is not my favourite activity, especially up hill. And I’ve done my fair share of walking up hills in the past 7 months. We finally decided on the 5 day 4 night Poon Hill trek. I conceded we didn’t need a guide.

The two days before we left I was sick, just a cold and a bit of a fever but definitely not fantastic. The day we left I was feeling a bit better and we made good time getting to our proposed night destination by lunch time. After lunch we decided to push on knowing that the next part was step and getting some of it under our belt would make tomorrow a bit easier.

By mid afternoon my cold was catching up with me and I was ready to stop so we found a lodgein the village of Ulleri where i hit my bed and pretty much stayed there until the next morning. The clouds, drizzle and steep steps continued the next morning as we made our way to the village of Gorapani. Once again I hit my bed to rest up while Eli decided to climb Poon Hill. A short walk from Gorapani Poon Hill is actually quite a high mountain by most countries’ standards at 3210m. The weather meant that there were none of the supposedly spectacular views to be had.

The next day with the weather still bad we decided to combine what was supposed to be 2 short days of walking into one long one and make for Ghandruk. The weather actually cleared a bit as we approached Ghandruk and we caught our first small glimpses of the towering Annapurna ranges surrounding us. I was feeling significantly better than I had the previous 2 days but I had lost my voice making for a quiet afternoon walking for Eli.

The final day was wet, wet, wet; making for very slow going down the slippery steep steps. We made it down to the village of Naya Pul just in time to jump on the bus back to Pokhara.

Our final day in Pokhara was a relaxing one before we jumped on the bus the next morning for a long journey to the Nepal- India boarder.

* * * * *

We both love India. But our time here must end. After finishing up our tour of the north west and western parts of India, we are flying to Tanzania for a month of volunteering and a sojourn around neighbouring countries. We can’t wait!

Love to all,

xxx