jonnytheroth's TravelStream™ — Recent TravelPod.com entries TravelStream™ news feed for member jonnytheroth on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/jonnytheroth en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Sun, 16 Nov 2008 18:53:53 -0500 http://www.travelpod.com Endding — New Delhi, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1226878380/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1226878380/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1226878380/tpod.html Sun, 16 Nov 2008 18:53:53 -0500 "It's Time...." - Jonny in India.
New Delhi, India

It's a little bit late, but heres the first bit of time I've had since getting back to properly take some time to write this down.

So I got on the train back to Delhi, a blissful 7 hours on the top bunk of a sleeper train, getting back to Delhi late was a little worrying, but I managed to secure a risk shaw to backpacker town, and eventually find a room to stay. The room was OK, it had a balcony. Unfortunately the room was very, very hot. I spent my last few days in India being ill due to some dodgy chapatti and dhal, and not sleeping due to the immense heat. I managed to meet up with Arnab, an old coursemate, for a few drinks which was nice. I bought some spices for back home, and generally just waited for the time I could go home. I was very hot, and annoyingly ill.

On the plane at last I watched a brief news segment on BBC news 24, it was about the effects of the credit crunch on the UK, and how it's hitting some people hard. They ran a brief clip of a couple and child on benefits, complaining about how desolate they were, and how they might not be able to feed their child. In the background was a dishwasher, a washing machine, a sky + box and a flat screen TV. "Sometimes I go to bed hungry" says one fat member of the couple, "Yeah, sometimes we both go to bed hungry" says the other, equally fat, member.

The distance between India and the UK may only be a days travel, but, in so many ways, it is another world.

Two sides of India:

One, deceitful, uncaring for their own country, substituting speed for safety every time and their irrepressible and despicable caste system. Two, very friendly, everyone will smile, and will chat to you if they can. There seems to be strong community and family values here, although not for the fellow human (outside the community/family).

I'll leave you with a few song titles for India:

'I don't want another curry'
'Fart or Diarrhea, the decision'
'Special price for you....and you and you and you and...'
'The life of a risk shaw driver'
'Do I look like I want sunglasses?'

Enjoy. Photos are now on my facebook.
]]> Beggers and white buddists — New Delhi, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222677780/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222677780/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222677780/tpod.html Mon, 29 Sep 2008 05:07:53 -0400 "It's Time...." - Jonny in India.
New Delhi, India

I've enjoyed my last few days in Rishiskesh, I decided to get meself a head massage, which was nice, although slightly disconcerting being taken down into a windowless room where some softly spoken man poured oil onto me head from what seemed to be a toliet bleach bottle. On hisdesk were all maner of bottles and odd looking instruments, he slaps the oil all over my head and hair, and its qutie pleasant. The head massage itself was ok, a bit like when the hair dressers give you a wash. Unfortunately I hadto spend the day with slick, oiled up hair, walking around looking like i'd just stepped out of the 50's.

Walking past beggers never gets easier, they line up on the two suspension bridges that cross the Ganges in Rishikesh. It's difficult because you retreat, within yourself, behind your eyes. It makes me feel like my body is fused of iron, and i'm hidding in it whilst my concious is in a storm. The rattling of the metal can and the beggers eyes staring are all you can hear as you walk away. It's difficult.

White buddists, or white hindus, are prevailent in Rishikesh, you can see them all sat cross legged on the beach of the Ganges as the sun sets, all lost in their own efforts to find Nirvada, or something, anything i'd expect. I can't but feel thaqt these people look down on me as a mere "tourist" not here for the spirituality this place exudes, as they walk around with their shaved heads, long beards and unwestern clothes, a disguise for them, I think, to something they once were and are trying to escape from. One guy from Belgium had been living in India for 25 years, living off dontations to the temple, he said that you have to cut all ties, all relationships, and thus his decision to leave Belgium forever. He mum died back in Belgium, but he didn't seem to mind too much. It is apparantly very much about the individual, and not the community or family, adding to my speculation of escapism. They're all, generally, one mantra short of an Osho meditation session, if you know what I mean. They're all trapped inside their heads and the clouds, and somehow have lost connection with the world, while they increase their connection with themselves.

I decided to eat an Indian again, I went to a plush restaurant near my hostel, and ordered the "chef's special biryani" whats in the chefs special? I ask, vegetables, comes the reply. I can't help thinking the chefs special merely means 10 rupees more than the vegetable biryani, I order it anyway. It comes, dripping in oil. I'm getting suspicious now. It's as though when I walk into any restaurant the waiter sees me and thinks "Gees, that guy is seriously lacking in his oil intake! Hey VJ, get the especially large vat of oil for this one!". I can't finish it. Is it such a crime to've been in India for 3 weeks and still think the best curry i've had is from a classy little place called 'Venice Pizzas' on Kirkstall road in Leeds?

I'm back in Delhi now, after my time in Rishikesh and I feel like i'm just about getting into the swing of things, the swing of India. Tomorrow I fly home. My last India trip post will be inthe coming days.

- Jonny
]]> Rafting the Ganges — Rishikesh, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222435500/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222435500/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222435500/tpod.html Fri, 26 Sep 2008 09:45:53 -0400 "It's Time...." - Jonny in India.
Rishikesh, India

Havn't been up to too much really, walking around Rishikesh watching the priests read from huge old books, others asking you to get them a coffee. This is a really relaxing town, nestled in the Ganges valley, it's a place where a week could easily slip away in the sun, or on one of the many sandy beaches along the Ganges.

I went for a 26km rafting session down the Ganges, it was great seeing the valley from teh bottom up and experiancing the rapids. The dingey really does take a pounding as you fly almost virtically downwards into a rapid, manically paddling yourself.

Afterwards I returned to the hostel, where a group of Indian politians had essentially taken over, apparently they were all there (about 20 + families) to elect a new chairman for which they had to come to a hotel by the Ganges for 3 days. So far i've seen them sitting around, eating, drinking and being loud. I got talking with one of them, and he invited me to have lunch with them, I never decline a free lunch. Then one of his mates - another 'politian' came over and I was reliably informed that he was an astrologer and that he'd beable to tell me about myself from my hand. It was free so I didn't mind. He told me 4 things:

1. I came from a weak family background.
2. I had many struggles in my life
3. That I had to struggle through education and to get into education.
4. That my future was bright.

He then asked me if what he said was true, and not wanting to hurt his feelings said "maybe a little", but essentially everything (except the future I hope) he said was the opposite of me. So that was nice.

India is actually really nice, once you know where to go, i'm not saying its the travellers paradise of Thailand or Malaysia, but I think you need to give credit where its due. I'll enjoy the rest of my time here, but then it's back to Delhi for the remaining few days....

Life is interesting.

tra
]]> Risikesh — Rishikesh, Uttarakhand, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222320120/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222320120/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222320120/tpod.html Thu, 25 Sep 2008 01:48:48 -0400 "It's Time...." - Jonny in India.
Rishikesh, Uttarakhand, India

And so I left my luxury guest house room. Luxury? I hear you cry, Jonny doesn't 'do' luxury, but yes, I have to say I caved in when I came to this guest house and the owner told me I could have a 'normal' room for 400 rupees OR pay an extra 50 rupees for LUXURY. Now, I have a feeling the Indians have got the wrong end of the stick when it comes to luxury, or maybe someone has masterfully changed the deffinition in the dictionary, for, apparently, luxury now means that you get to have a large hole above your guest room door. And i'm not compaining. It was a nice, circular hole.

I made my way to the trainstation, passing the usual groups of women with virtually anything you can think of balanced on their head, the hindu priests walking with all their self important wavey hair and the odd purveyor of all things plastic in this world. Goats and goat herders walking along the tracks, their backs filled with soil as some more construction works goes on India style. Carridges packed at the seems with people, chucking their rubbish out to the delight of the many, many rats scuttling along the tracks.

I found my train and got on, hit by the stench of the onboard toilets as I went, the trains are actually very big, along the ceiling are many fans and 2 rows of 3 seats each side. The chairs however are just slightly too small, so that each person gets to snuggle next to their compatriot, which is lovely if your compatriot is a middle aged, fairly large man. Here I met Igor, a tall dark man from Chilie, who i'm now travelling with.

The train filled quickly close to departure, mostly with fat middleaged men, all wearing shirts with a pen and notebook in the front pocket, and 70% of whom had dyed their hair. The man sat next to me, across the asile, had a particularly striking ginger colour to his vastly receeding locks, a gaunt man who was playing games on his phone. Theres no chance of you going hungry on Indian trains, the many food sellers make sure of that, walkiung up and down the train shouting their own mantra of food, some are quite interesting to decipher. "Tarraa marrta zoooop" one says, going up at the the end, this is tomato soup man. My particular favourite was one with a rather high pitched voice shouting "chiiiiiiiips, crisppppies", I enjoyed that.

The train hurtled across India, which I could see passing from the open doors, and then night decended and the train ran through the blackness of night, only emphasising the speed at which we were going, and my fears that Indias rail infrastructure could not possibly cope with such speeds.

But it could, and I arrived safely in Harawad (sp) and quickly found a tuk-tuk to Rissikesh, then quickly found a nice hostel.

The views from my romo the next day were of the Ganges, or Ganga, with forested hills rising each side. It's quite massive, and quite lovely. This place exudes relaxation, the perfect place to come after the hectic schedule i'd been keeping. It's a very spiritual place, home to yoga and meditation courses galore. In the evening I sat on the garden infront of the hostel, and watched the sunset over the Ganges. The priests with their vibrant clothes washed, prayed and meditated on the beaches across the river, the evening light catching their robes as they dried their robes in the sun. Down the valley I could see the first suspension bridge of Rishikesh, Ralam Julah (sp) and saw the siluhettes of the many people, carts, cows etc walking across, and beyond that the dome of a temple vanishing into the distance.

All in all, I 'm happy to've upped sticks and come here for my last few days in India, this is a different side one that may change my outlook (on India).

looks like i'm off rafting on the Ganges! Tara!
]]> To Delhi — Delhi, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222094580/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222094580/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222094580/tpod.html Mon, 22 Sep 2008 10:44:54 -0400 "It's Time...." - Jonny in India.
Delhi, India

OVerland to Delhi.
]]> Jaipur — Jaipur, Rajasthan, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222092240/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222092240/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1222092240/tpod.html Mon, 22 Sep 2008 10:42:15 -0400 "It's Time...." - Jonny in India.
Jaipur, Rajasthan, India

....we travelled bumping along a motoway as it was being built, through lush hills,and the occasional sand dune dotted with small trees, the transport infrastrucure of this part if the country seems to be being modernised, we've been travelling between fairly major cities in Rajastan, and generally the traffic is light. This raised 'motorway' is the first i've seen in India and shows the beginnings of development (atleast interms of infrastructure) in the transport sector. We eventually cameto the end of the under-construction motorway, we knew this because it essentially ran into a mountain, then we had the precarious task of driving down from it back to the roads below. Nothing ever stops in India, and deffinitely not when safety can be compromised for speed.

We arrived at Jaipur, the largest city in Rajastan, and saw another huge fort and ramifications looming ahead of us. As we got out of the car around 3 beggers of different socio-demographics swarm us notioning to their desert wind weathered mouths for food, the types of begger are, the street urcin child, the lady (usually drapped in some vibrant sari which makes you feel less bad for no giving), insane men wearing very little and the disabled. I may talk about beggers matter-of-factly but I think this is how you have to look at the situation. There are many, many broken lives in India, many, many outcasts and many, many terrible stories of calamatous lives. The problems run deep, deep into the cultural fabric of India, and theres no hidding our western shame when we ignore a begger.

My philosophy is that the worlds poorest have to be helped from the bottom up, and that starts with kids and with education. If everyone in the western world sponsored who could afford it (99.999%) a child through education that would not've otherwise recieved, it the world's problems would be reduced markedly. As this is what I feel, this is what I do, sponsoring kids through plan international (www.plan-international.org/ 12 quid a month).

Anyway, our hotel had a great view of the fort from the rooftop, and sitting there as the sunset and the kites flew over the fort, you can distance yourself from the putrid filth and smells that are Indian streets. This particular fort is very well defended, being almost entirely surrounded by hills and walls around the hills, but isn't quite as impressive as the enitrly formidable fort seen at Jophur.

We knew we'd entered the 'golden triangle' that is the tourist trap of Agra, Jaipur and Delhi, as we got hasled constantly to buy this and that, over here 'no' has an entirely different meaning, apparantly it means "Goodness! how wonderfully impressive you little Taj Mahal snow globe with flashing light is you have there, please continue to try and sell it to me for a sum 1000x its worth".

The girls get more attention than I do, but then they bring it on themselves.

We stayed in Jaipur for 2 nights, mostly shopping and relaxing, the driver taking us to ridiculously elaborate, expensive, empty and sterile tourist malls to collect his dropping us off fee, we walk around trying not to feel too "backpacker in an executive suit".

We then took the trip to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, which we paid around 10 quid to see, whilst ignoring the touts and guides all wanting our attention, a particularly sticky guide was the subject of Sarah's "If you attempt to be my guide one more time i'll kill you" eyes. He didn't bother much with us after that.

The Taj Mahal itself is impressive, though not very impressive, it does work well with any weather, the perfect backdrop, but i've seen it now, taken the photo, and I don't think i'll be coming back to see it again. Worth a little look though.

Said goodbye to Emmy and Sarah, as they continued to Thailand (after stopping at some missionaries with wierd accents) and also said bye to the driver, which required the tip giving. I hate the tip culture, it can spoil relationships very easily, how do you know what a good tip is? They're already getting paid..... Our way is much better. Dunno if the driver liked or didint like his tip, at one point I thought he was goingto demand more, although this might've been mis-coimmunication.

I stopped off at my delapidated hotel, and stood in my empty little delapidated hotel room and wanted to go home. But now i'm off to Raithsdffdf (can't remember the name) in the mountains in the northish of India, and get my first taste of Indian 2nd class train travel tomorrow. I'll be sure to let you know the hilarious situations I get myself into there.

- Jonny
]]> Down the road to Jodhpur — Jodhpur, Rajasthan, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221668940/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221668940/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221668940/tpod.html Wed, 17 Sep 2008 12:50:14 -0400 "It's Time...." - Jonny in India.
Jodhpur, Rajasthan, India

We drove down to the famous city of Jodhpur, the blue city, so called because some time ago the inhabitants decided to paint all their houses sky blue. We climbed up to the massive fort that hangs over the city, quite an amazing fort actually, the biggest in Rajastan, totally formidable and actually was never captured by force ( The british assumed control back in the day).

Up on the impressive ramparts the view is astounding, the city glows blue in a maze of tiny, medieval streets. Emmy and Sarah were stared and laughed at (never heard the end of that) because they were "showing off their flesh".

Anyway we saw the sun set over the city and got in the car for the next trip to Udapur, a most romantic city. Inbetween I have sevear Delhi Belly, and whats the best remedy for this? I think we all know, 5 hour trip in a car over a bumpy and swerving road. Excellent. I've been desperately trying to eat non-greasy food, which is a major challenge in this grease laden country, they seem to cook quite a nice dish, and then pour a vat of oil over the top. Possibly to hide the actual taste?

Driving down the roads you experiance many different landscapes, we drove down into a valley surrounded by hills and lus vegetation, not quite dissimilar to the UK, quit pretty really. Roadkill identification is a fun game, donkey? dog? camel? who knows but it is most deffinitely dead. You also see many bloodied animals that have had a near miss, animal lovers, please don't got to India.

Udhappur had the most uninsteresting palace, but the views of the surrounding lake were spectacular, a famous hotel seemes to float in the middle, the water lapping at it's base. We stumbled upon a bollywood production. such a magnificent array of colour witht eh back drop of the lake was spectacular, I think one of the "stars@ fancied me. Actually i'm sure of it. Yes, a Bollywood star fancied me.

We then went to a dance and puppet show in an old Haveli, the setting was as fantastic as the dances, multicoloured women spiraling around at dusk, with the backdrop of the old ruins of the havali.

We have now just arrived in Puskar, a temple laden village, we're staying in an amazing hotel, top notch with swimming pool t'boot.

I'll keep you informed...
]]> Jeselmer (Desert city) — Jeslemer, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221494760/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221494760/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221494760/tpod.html Mon, 15 Sep 2008 12:34:29 -0400 "It's Time...." - Jonny in India.
Jeslemer, India

....eventually we made it to Jeselmer, an Indian desert city near to the boarder with Pakistan, desert cities are realisically what you would think, lots of orange, sand coloured housing with rugged dusty streets. Our driver took us to a restaurant he thought was good (turned out he just had some mates there) which gave me Delhi belly. Delhi belly is not nice. Essentially everthing that comesout of your 'hoohaa' looks like curry.

Anyway, I worked my way around the old Havali's there (getting a touch bored of them now) and wondered upon the fort which springs up from the ground. This fort looks almost identical to those sand castles you used to make when you went to the beach when you were younger (or in my case a couple of weeks ago), and shines with a depp orange glow during sunset. The old city is anchient and still has it's old open sewer network inwhich the dogs and pigs of this world like to take a dip.

Cow dung pellets are sun dried for later use as fuel, as under the stained yellow clothes overhanging the street the market busy's itself selling handicrafts.

"Hello, where you from?" - a sound I hear everywhere but which I usually ignore as it's someone selling me something..

"Hello, I no want money, talking for free" - I hesitate, maybe they just want to talk

"I'm from the UK" - I reply tenatively. He was me now, I could be wasting valuble photo taking minutes.

" bad bombs in Delhi, tourist no come anymore, probably 50% less!" - I'd heard about the bombs from our driver, relieved that i'm many miles away from the insanity that has probably ensued there since.

"OK, you like pretty things? I take you to my shop you see pretty things" He notions to the back of the motorbike he's riding wanting me to come aboard. There's no way in Rajastan that i'd get on the back of that motorbike. At this point I obviously realise he's selling something so give a repost.


" I hate pretty things, they give me nose bleeds!" - and with this I walk off. I have a little toolbox of getting rid of people like this, if they say " You no like Indian people/India" as they try to grapple conversation out of me " No, I really don't" is my very effective reply.


Anyway, so we took a camel safari into the dunes of the Thar Desert, a few kilometers from Pakistan, the desert is amazing, apparantly the temperature rose to 45 degrees whilst we were plodding along, the desert has few dunes but walkng in just a few of them really opens your eyes. As you ride across the open scrub land you can see in the distance the smooth golden curves of the dunes rising on the horizon, there smiliarity to the human body lying down is quite astounding. And then, stand in the middle of the dunes, with noone else, time does not move. The wind slowly changes the dune forever, the ripples every slowly advancing as each grain of sand is picked up and deposited, almost like a lake. Walking in the desert and rding a camel into unknown terratory i've never felt so much like Indiana Jones, the desert is something i've wanted to see for along time, and it does truly run on the sands of time.

We plodded (Camels deffinitely plod) to a village ( mud huts/farm sort of set up) and had a bite to eat before setting up our open air camp in the dunes over the ridge, there I was thouroughly knackered, possibly not from the camel ride itself but the heat. I'm not designed for such temperatures. We gazed at the full moon and smattering of stars, the dunes becoming silver slopes in the moonlight.

Then we were attacked by dungbeetles. Dungbeetles arn't dangerous in the slightest, they're just massive and manage to crawl into your shirt/trousers ect.... thouroughly unpleasant while you're trying to sleep, at one point I woke up to find my face actually restin on one. Lovely. Anyway in the distance the thumping of another distant camp floated over the still sands, gipsey's were having a party, dancing and singing around a fire. A part of me wished me there, but the other was still in wonder at lying out in the open in the middle of the desert being visited by dung beetles.

The next day we drove 5 hours to Jhotpur.


]]> Enchanting city of Manewa — Manewa, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221238320/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221238320/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221238320/tpod.html Fri, 12 Sep 2008 13:25:26 -0400 "It's Time...." - Jonny in India.
Manewa, India

So we escaped Delhi on the 3rd day, we bought an excursion around Rathystan (sp) for 10 days including a camel safari into the desert. We're being caufeur driven in an AC car, our little man driver 'smiley' as I liked to call him (he had a perminant frown) attemped to drive off with us into the desert, but he broke the car just outside Delhi ( we had to push it along the 'motorway'). The car was dead, and so we waited in the backend of nowhere for a new car and new driver to arrive, both were better than the last, and so we began.

The scenery was stunning, iron board flat land with an even spread of lush trees slowly dissappearing into the haze in the distance, groups of huge concrete towers stretch to the sky. I later found that these towers are the brick making industry of India. As we drove further into the county the land became arid and desolate, the lush trees slowly becoming thorny, britsle trees, and the land gave way to pockets of orange sand. Driving down those endless roads that emptied into the distance ahead splashes of vivid colours spot the landscape. Women dressed as multicoloured as the land was stark, a focal point on every horizion. Huge camels with lolling mouths are attached to large wagons and trudle along, generally carrying a man with a rather jaunty mustache who'll wave and smile once he sees us (or rather the girls). Further into the desert the trees give way to bushes, and sand dunes rise where once there were grassy hills, and small wooden huts spring up.

We eventually get to our destination after 9 hours, though it goes quickly with such an interesting landscape to view, a small bustling city of Manewa, many Havalas are here, these were once rich places where merchants built their homes to represent their extrodinary wealth. These havalas are a rich tapestry of texture and colour within the city, most look old and worn and give an enchanting, exotic and romantic feel to the place. It's possible to see beyond the run down architecture and you can still feel the wealth that once was so free in this, now very poor place that realies on tourism.

We stayed in a renovated havala, it was amazing, inside are 2 courtyards with the sky above, open roofed, the stars are the celing at night. To me the house resembled a persian palace, and as we sat on the roof at night, staring at the midnight skies silhuetting the fort that once defended this grandeos place a hindu priest from the nearby temple warbled a lulaby over a speaker, filling the night with atmosphere beneith the moonlight.

It takes time to recognise where you are, practially in the middle of the desert, this whole place explodes with exotic flavours of a noble past that once was.

Generally the people here are nicer than in Delhi, they're happy to see you and most are just saying hello, rather than "hello, look at my shop" or anyother amount of underhand tactics at parting ourselves with our money. Having said that a young boy, who at first we ignored, figuring he wanted money, eventually charmed us into going to his families restaurant and buying a tapestry from him. Although I have to say the taperstry was of fine stitching and even finer price for my western standards. The restaurant was on the rooftop, looking out over the whole city, the food was fabulous and cheap, I can't complain!

Today we drove hours through the desert to the "rat temple", yes, it's a temple full of rats.
]]> Delhi — Delhi, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221059520/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221059520/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jonnytheroth/13/1221059520/tpod.html Wed, 10 Sep 2008 11:29:52 -0400 "It's Time...." - Jonny in India.
Delhi, India

Delhi, capital of India, the rhythm and beat of this place surrounds the dusty, cramped roads, every mode fighting for position. I actually don't know quite how to put into words the feeling walking down one of the main shopping roads, I guess it's sort of like a vein, the blood pumping through the city, the streets are alive. Every imaginable colour, action, smell can be seen and smelt every second, each blink of the eye gives a different picture, a thousand different life tales, youth and age, saddness and happiness, chaotically complex. It's as close to life as i've got, it doesn't seem real, it's as if you've stepped into a film and you're the star finding your way through the dumdrums of Indian life. The streets are not just for selling, they're also workshops, people making metal sheets, bathroom taps, refurbishing old engines all next to one another with the odd soclicitor section where theres about 20 people all sat next to a typewriter waiting for their next customer.

Walking down this road you get kids begging you for money, school kids bugging you to take their money, the odd sunglass' seller optimistcally seeing whether you're a buyer (wearing sunglasses), people trying to strike up conversation inorder to get commission for a trip or purchase, and then people who are just genuinely helpful (difficult to differentiate).

It takes a while to fully adjust to staying here, eventually the choas washes over you, you have to succum to it, as do you the soaring heat compounded by the movement of 100 people, cows, rickshaws, bicycles, people with no legs, taxes and sellers pushing, like enforced osmosis, into each other. It is exhausting, but exhilirating.

Today we booked our trip into rathestan, first stop, tomorrow, a dusty, medival desert town, I ofcourse shall keep you up to date.
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