Windmills Hotel Lahore

... br><br>The next day was a busy one that started off with disappointment. The Lahore Museum was closed for some unknown reason. I was only able to stand at the gate and take a few pictures of the beautiful red brick building. From there it was on to the old city which was filled with narrow winding streets filled with all sorts of sights and smells that could have easily belonged in a previous century. The people were all very friendly, if a bit shocked by my presence ...

... as the weather is much warmer and should be like that for the rest of my travels. It was sad to leave, but I was accompanied to the border by M and another friend who's a rickshaw driver. I felt quite apprehensive about leaving them and going back into India - but after my visits to the visa office I knew I was coming back - I'd already arranged another entry and another 3 months here when I leave India in June....I love this place.

... You will visit Badshahi Mosque, Lahore Fort a treasure of Moghul architecture from the early 16th century to 18th century (takes about 1½ Hours to visit), and Anarkali Bazaar a Bazaar with big activity and colorful streets. Half day City &amp; Museum. Visit the Lahore ...

... pass within a hair's breadth of each other. The first few days with our driver, I just closed my eyes when we were out on Cavalry Road, or downtown near Liberty. Oh, did I forget to mention motorcycle milkmen? I did. Throw those into the congestion mix as well. Quite a sight. One of the things Adnan wanted to do for me while we were in Lahore was to buy ...

So --Updates: 1) Emirates is an amazing airline. In economy they treat you like Business class. The staff are wonderful, and the food is amazing. My first choice for flying to Europe and South Asia. 2) The horrid sickness/ dizziness that comes with jumping 10 time zones seems to have gone away, with the help of my good friend ...

... I had no idea what I was ordering but for 30 rupees I got a plate with curd, fruit, salad, hot spices and some sort of dumpling all mixed up, weird but strangely nice. When I got back to the hostel I was made a delicious crepe by one of the French guys staying there and enjoyed some Sufi music from a guest band that had been invited to perform - and I even got dragged up to dance - badly... Over the next few days I explored the city - walking down to the ...

... It usually involves some great traditional drumming and dancing, and goes all through the night. It appeared to me to be an excuse for the young people in Pakistan to get together and smoke joints while listening to music. It wasn't really my scene, but I was happy to talk to some locals, though the conversations were somewhat depressing. As he lit up a joint, one particularly disillusioned college student told me that the only good thing about ...

... be praised --no more devotees can molest me -- or so I thought. Past the last few steps to the street I felt a hand on my backside and without hesitation I spun around, hit him in the arm and yelled, "SHAME!" I continued forward and when I turned to look back several men were gallantly defending my so-called honor and berating him. We cram 5 large westerners in a rickshaw that seats 2 and choke away. Turning onto the paved roads not more than a few blocks away we slow down ...

... for 300 rupee --ready tomoddo." In the drive back to the hotel, I thought of tipping him and I certainly hadn't thought of that earlier. I thought, "It's just a dollar -- shouldn't I just do the right thing?" But that didn't work either -- I couldn't decide really if he'd earned it --if it really was the right thing. And so I changed the question: "On second thought, isn't the kind thing better than the right thing?" I believe it is -- I gave him 100 rupees. Christina

... late last night. I thought my business class upgrade a most auspicious omen and with several flutes of Moutard for courage I inhaled deeply as the cabin door popped open and I, now had the coveted position of being the first to exit --alone. <br><br>I'm also the first and only person in customs and as I hand over my passport I scour the men in the distance with their long Punjabis waving their handmade signs -- and I cannot see my name on any of them. As I come nearer I look more ...