Day 9 – AMS and learning from it. On the rest day in Dingbuche, Ian went for a bike for acclimatization while Christa rested her blistered feet. Ian climbed too high too fast and came back down with the worse AMS (acute mountain sickness) he’s felt yet.
Usually rest, liquids and food helped. But this time it didn’t. And its already been a day at this altitude. Hopefully the night will prove useful to help acclimatize. If not, its time to take some medication for AMS, diamox.
The porters have left for lobuche basecamp, 5 hours away. They carried the tents, the kitchen. And food. Very heavy stuff. We will do that trek tomorrow. They will come back for out packs in the morning. Very strong boys.
Previously, just remembered (see what altitude does?) we had passed the memorial for all the people who died on Everest.
DAY 1 Not that we’re in love with Thamel, but that’s where everything happens in Kathmandu. And it’s a pretty cool area.
We left Hasera with bittersweet good byes. Mito’s awesome food and Govinda’s uplifting spirit will be sorely missed. We head with Sujan, our volunteer coordinator who placed us there, to the taxi waiting for us that takes us back to Thamel.
We all meet up with our guide, Pema, who we’ll see everyday for the next 19 days. We say our farewells to Sujan and a big hello to the fanciest hotel we’ve stayed in this entire trip! We have beds with clean sheets. I mean, not clean and have a few stains; these were white! Actually, white! We have a shower head! 2 weeks of pouring buckets of water over you to shower is an experience, but certain luxuries are welcoming return. Hot water! Ian finally had a clean shave. Inclusive breakfast! Pleather chairs! Relatively speaking, “western” standards we grew up with at home. But load-shedding, was still there. Pema has arranged for us Zen Holiday to stay in. (Load shedding: When certain parts of the city shuts down electricity for a certain time for other parts of the city to have power) This begins Day 1 of our himalayan experience. Not a bad start.
“We’re the security for the trance party. Would you like to see our I.D?” Ram asked us. Usually, we’re asked to present I.D. This was a good rescue.
We were 7 hours away from host farm, Hasera, for one night to catch the end of this party, Universal Religion. One of the worlds highest altitude parties, this year was held in Bandipur, an area where most people jump start to their Annapurna circuit trek.
We were caught with a 1,500 (17 USD, very expensive in local economy) Nepali rupee taxi ride up the mountain from a city called Dumre to Bandipur after night has settle into the mountains. The road was a windy 7km uphill. Half way up, the taxi croaked on us. The driver lifted the hood and started fidgeting with the engine pulling out god-knows-what from who-knows-where in the engine block. The engine would not start. Other cars passed by roaring up the bend. More failed monkey mechanics and the driver calls someone.
As he was on the phone, we hear another car approaching. We took out the headlamp to shine the road to make sure people knew were right around the bend so they wouldn’t hit the passed out car. As the car rounded the corner, the headlights split up evolving into two sleek black motorcycles with even sleeker helmets and riders. They stop.
What coincidence that we ran into the head of security for the trance party! Ram, his name was. They threw us on the back of their bikes and we finished the last half of the ride on their motorcycles.
We turn left onto a dusty bump road and started seeing signs of tourists and Nepalese alike wandering abouts the gate of the party.
The stage at night
“They have no one day tickets” Ram informed us. “However, we are in charge of the wrist bands, so if you like, you can pay us 5,000 rupees.” That came up to 58USD. The normal ticket was 100USD. We agreed. We also think he just banked that money as private sale. We’re not concerned. We saved money. Police lined the entrance but Ram got us in without checking bags. A bit redundant to have security and police carrying rifles the size of their body.
The first people we spoke to, after eating some food, (it’s been about 12 hours). “What the *** are the organizers thinking?! Those wankers had 4 toilets for guys and 4 for girls for a party of 4,000 people. And they have no water to wash our hands with!” Justin and Simon both complained. 2 British guys, well seasoned into the party life.
We had a good laugh and then checked the washrooms. And what the **** are the organizers thinking?! Those toilets were FILLED to the BRIM with not only the usual toilet stuff, but of other should not mentions. Camping at the party would’ve been cool until there was no water and no nearby toilets. We were even planning on it, our bivvy sack, sleeping bag, fleece blanket and emergency blanket all part of the day bags.
We started doing the hike down the road to search for a place to stay. And wouldn’t you know, every place is full. It really didn’t come as a surprise though. Our last ditch attempt after an hour of wandering around, we went into the nearest hotel to the party to ask for rooms. Obviously full. But we had to ask anyways. Half jokingly, Christa said “Can we just sleep on those couches?” (In the lobby)
Yes, best hotel room ever.
The receptionist looked at us all weird. We started walking out and he called us back in. He lead us into the luggage storage room opened the door to reveal a mattress. “You can stay here for 500 rupees.” That was about 6 USD. With a washroom nearby in the lobby, that is all we needed. We put down our day packs and headed into the party.
The main (and only) stage had a… uh… flower? column? covering the dance floor. As far as trance party designing goes, South Africans have a pretty intense decor reputation set out for them. And so a South African designed the stage for the party. It was magnificent and indescribable.
The music was, well, psy trance. Too bad it wasn’t progressive or goa that we both enjoy more. But at this late at night – or early in the morning – deep psy was pretty called for. Everyone was jiving to the heavy bass. Lekker… Finally a legit party and to make it more epic, it was at the jumping off point to the Annapurna Circuit. A high altitude party. Ha!
In the daylight, we had to figure our way down the mountain (7km of windy road), find a bus to Kathmandu, find a bus to Banepa and then find a bus to Hasera farm – 7 hours away.
Stage during the day on tear down
We strapped our sandals, hiked up our bags and started marching down as the other party go-ers lined up for the bus that never came. Not too soon after we started walking, a jeep pulled up. Filled with party people shoved in the front, the back seats, and the bed of the truck. We hopped on the back. Ian couldn’t fit as there were too many people. So he stood with one leg in the bed, and held onto to the roof rack of the jeep. The road wasn’t only windy, but also very bumpy. It was quite the work out to hang on.
Getting down to Dumre again wasn’t so bad, and finding a bus to Kathmandu was even easier. 4 hours later we landed in Thamel, the hipster and touristy part of Kathmandu. We went back to our favourite Korean restaurant. Really, the only Korean restaurant we knew. We were craving MEAT. “SLAUGHTER A COW AND LEMME AT ‘IM!!!” screams the stomachs. Except we got pork, sam gyeop sal. Whoo!
Ian hitching a ride down the mountain
We called our host father at the farm, who was in another part of Nepal on a business trip. “All the buses to Hasera have stopped running now.” Govinda said. We were caught in Kathmandu for the night. Not a big deal, we already knew the Thamel area and knew exactly where we wanted to go stay for the night. Thamel Guest House.
The first time we went there, the bar owner, Biki, told us about the party and said that he’d be there. So we went to him. And wouldn’t you know, Ian’s stomach decided to crap out on him from the party food. Ha! Really, isn’t that surprising.
We didn’t stay the guesthouse the first time because it was a little manky. But this time, we did. 400 rupees. Winning! Until we turned on our lights to see the room afterwards. There was load-shedding at the time, so the lights at the hotel didn’t work. (Load shedding: When certain parts of the city shuts down electricity for a certain time for other parts of the city to have power)
We saw the state of the room and it was the mangieous rooms ever. We would’ve rather stay in the storage compartment. The carpet was stained with years of wear. The bed was clean-ish, but we revealed the stained sheets. The washroom leaked something awful. The walls everywhere was peeling and clearly poorly patched up. The water from the tap had physical debris flowing out. And the shower tap kept leaking to leave a fresh puddle of water on the floor. Whatever, it was one night.
Ian passed out immediately while Christa stayed up to people watch.
The next morning, we came crawling back to Hasera. We missed Mito’s food and Govinda’s uplifting and never-ending humour. And it was time to get Ian better, again.
“Yololo!” Govinda shouted. Best word ever you’ll hear on the farm, because that meant “Food is ready!” Mito, Govinda’s wife, prepared possibly the best food ever. After a semi-relaxed morning of work, we get pretty much the rest of the day off. Or we could choose to do more work if we wanted to.
We were volunteering at Hasera Permaculture farm. We went through a company called Volunteering to Learn. Rolling hills with huge mountains in the distance surrounded the farm. But their gigantic size makes it seems like we could reach a hand out and touch the top of one of the snow capped peaks. In just over a week, we’ll be working our way up one of those peaks. But for now, we were busy digging up onions, garlic, and feeding chickens and petting the cows.
When we arrived, we happened to jump right into the end of a workshop where we get to design our own permaculture farm from 2 days of workshop. Both of us had a lot of ideas on how to be hippie and in the end our house was bomb-tastic. Urban farming with veritcal gardens and seasonal green houses with a pond inside. Badass.
The view from the farm
We got to experience local rural village wedding as well. It was an arranged marriage and a simple one. Nothing flashy. We took a stroll down the road and then down through other farm fields. It lead us to the family’s farm where the wedding was held. Colours decorated the trees and incense filled the air infront of the family’s Shiva temple. The couple sat side by side while family members on both sides took their turns blessing them while someone recited incantations and prayers.
Few days later, we got to celebrate Hanumans birthday, the monkey God who rescued Shiva’s wife, Parvarti, from Sri Lanka. We walked with Govinda, our host father, to the village Hanuman pagoda. People were already in deep incantation, burning incense, throwing blessings onto the Hanuman and into the fire sending it up to the Heavens for him to receive it.
Traditional village wedding
These experiences were something few people get to do. To live right in with the family in a rural village in Nepal. We were expecting hard work and hours in the sun. However, what we got was more of becoming part of the family and local community. After the wedding, when we arrived at the temple, we recognized many people from the wedding and they recognized us (Wasn’t very hard).
Vishnu’s commerical potatoe fields needed to be harvested. He was one of the lecturers at Govinda’s farm during the workshop. We got a chance to repay his kindness by helping him harvest his humungous farm. Just fields and fields of potatoes. Even though he lectured at the permaculture farm, he needed commercial farming and so used chemicals. He knows the detrimental effects, but it’s the only way to provide locally grown potatoes in the local region. Otherwise, potatoes aren’t naturally grown in Nepal. We got to work alongside family and friends of Vishnu. It was quite a humbling experience as people older than us tear up the ground as we struggle to keep up with the work.
Vishnu’s fields
After our 2 weeks of living at the farm, we exchanged very bittersweet goodbyes. Our experience was over, but not forgotten. It was a very rewarding experience that will sit with us through our lifetime. Our eyes turn over to the peaks in the Everest mountain range. Onward, journey!
Lumbini. Not so shortly after we crossed the border, we settled in a quiet town where Buddha has been proven to be born in. Nothing spectacular. A few temples all very dedicated to Buddha from each Buddhist country in the world. We saw China, Korea and Nepal before we decided it was too hot to bike around anymore. Here it was still 40 degrees. Not what we bargained for, weather-wise.
We retreat back into our room play in the shower, aka wash our clothes. It was about time we had fresh clean clothes again. All hand wash, courtesy of the hotel shower. Just don’t tell them. Shhh… We head to Kathmandu 2 nights later.
Trinkets in the market
It was a 10 hour bus ride starting from 7:30am and arriving at 4pm. Kathmandu, Thamel. One of Ian’s favourite city so far in the trip. It trumps Varkala and Jaisalmer. The gear stores, for one, and secondly, lots of swanky restaurants, bars, and other establishments, straight up our alley. We were starving for meat. We found a Korea BBQ restaurant. How fitting! We’re fresh out of Korea, we know the dishes, and we know how to eat it. We had sam kyap sal, and so gal bi. *Drool*
Afterwards, we found a live band playing in the local pub. It happened to be Nepals New Year, and people are still out celebrating. We met a couple of nice Indians and hung out with them for the better part of the night.
The next day, we head out to meet our trekking
Our host family in Kathmandu
guide, Pema, for our 19 day trek to Everest Base Camp (EBC from here forth). We finally get reunited with our climbing gear. 40kg total, including ice axes, harnesses sleeping bags, shells, down jackets, snow pants, boots… etc. The total list is extensive. We organize all our paperwork and discussed about how to arrange the visa extensions that we need and where to meet. We also bought our tickets to South Africa, after much anticipation from Christa’s mother. We started all this first because we won’t see Pema until after our volunteership.
Monkey temple
This volunteership, we’re heading out to Kavre, just a few kilometers away from Kathmandu, but still a small remote farming town. Some nice mountains out there supposedly. Before we get shipped out there, an awesome host family welcome us into their house for 3 nights. We prepared traditional Nepalese food with the family and they taught us some basic Nepalese.
The volunteer organizer, Sujan, showed us around many many temples. “City of Temples” is Kathmandu’s name. And it certainly lives up to its name. “Oh, it’s a live sacrifice”, the Sujan said as we walked by a puddle of fresh blood on the ground. Hindu’s in the city were celebrating a festival. We came in when they were getting the cow ready. The goat had already been sacrificed.
Biggest and oldest temple in Kathmandu
The legs were tie up first and then the cow was shoved onto the ground. They made sure the legs were securely fastened. A Hindi Nepalese pulled out a pokcet knife and lifted up the chin. Makes the first slice and the crowd takes a step back as blood sprayed everywhere, his shirt, the temple, his arms and right around the crowd. The cow didn’t make a sound, but you could hear it screaming from the eyes.
The Nepalese man took a cup and collected the blood the was spraying from the jugulars and splashed it on the temple. He did it twice. The neck was still attached, but the esophagus clearly exposed and the blood gurgles out as the cow desperately tries to breath. As the cow inhaled, it drew more blood to the lungs and was trying to cough it out. Finally, the Nepalese man fully decapitates the head as he jams the knife into the neck and rips off the head. He places it on the temple alongside the goats head. Cow has been sacrificed.
For more pictures of our trip in Nepal, check out:
Varanasi was a scorching 42 degrees and it showed no signs of relief until the odd hours in the morning. We decided it was enough and took the 8am train (when the heat was still somewhat bearable) to go to Nepal. This isn’t as un-common as we originally thought. A lot of people do this trip. From Varanasi, we took a 4 hour train to Gorakphur. We were lucky to find an express train that stopped only twice, otherwise it would’ve been a 6 hour trip.
From Gorakphur, we found a bus that went to Sunauli. It wasn’t hard. When we got off the train from Gorakphur, touters were coming up to us “You going to Nepal? Take our bus!” The bus stand, though, was right infront of the train station and it wasn’t necessary to listen to touters. We asked a few people which bus went to Sunauli and they directed us in the right direction. There were touters though, trying to get us to their private company buses that cost 1,000 Rupees. About 12 dollars. But instead, we found a bus for 80 Rupees. Just over 1 dollar. This bus though, really isn’t that nice. We put our luggage on the roof and were literally crammed in the back corner of the bus. Leg space is non-existent. You literally sit up 90 degrees to give some room for your knees. And the Indians will just keep piling on the people and shove you futher into the corner of the bus. We were on that bus for 3 hours in the baking heat of 40 degrees of the day. Longest 3 hour bus journey of our lives. Fun!
The streets in Sanuali Crossing
Once we arrived in Sunauli, at 3pm we decided it was time to have the first meal of the day since 6am wakeup. We went to a nice little hotel restaurant called Indo-Nepal. We realized afterwards it was recommended by Lonely Planet guide book.
Winning!
Soon after we found ourselves in the India Immigration Office getting a stamp out of India. They told us that Indian Rupees are illegal in Nepal and we have to change everything before we cross the border. We found a money exchange on the India side. Changed money, haphazardly because Ian was all tired and cracked out at that point. Christa is more on the ball.
The end of India and beginning of Nepal
The time came to walk across. Christa was expecting x-ray machines and border patrol. But really, the border simply said “India Border Ends” There’s a bit of a no-man’s land and then another sign “Welcome to Nepal” Tons of other people are also walking, driving, and taking rickshaws across the border seemingly unchecked and unbothered by the border patrol. However, tourists stand out and we were told to go to the Immigration Office on the Nepal side. A quick form fill out, stamp and we were sent on our way. It took us a 8 hours of travelling to cross the border and into our lodging in Lumbini in Nepal.
This trip diary is a brief reflection on my trip to Varanasi, India, visiting the burning Ghats and the Ganges river. It only took 14 hours on a train straight. We took a sleeper train, which provides beds. But it certainly doesn’t provide the quietness of a good nights sleep. We pull into some obscure train station at 7 in the morning and transfer trains and kept going until 11:30.
We get into Varanasi with 40 degree weather waiting for us. The rickshaw goes only to a certain part of the city and then we walked the rest of the way in. Varanasi is a very holy city with the Ganges running through it. In fact, Indians abroad order specially water from the Ganges for their different celebrations. Along the banks of the the Ganges are hundreds of Ghats (stairs leading to the water for whatever purpose, bathing, washing clothes, or what have you.)
Our hotel balcony overlooks the river and the Varanasi Ghats. Looking to the one side, there were hundreds of people in celebration. To the other side a never ending horizon of Ghats. But no time for that now. Sleep was calling. None of us slept a wink through the whole night of ear shattering cackling, jostling and tossing of the train.
Other parts of the ghats where it’s empty
Taking a stroll down the Ganges river takes you through some of the most colour views in India. We hopped onto a boat at 6 in the morning to catch the views of the locals at the Ghats. Mainly, they bath in there and wash clothes as well. We saw a boat river taking sips out of the Ganges too. The Ganges is regarded as one of the holiest rivers in India. So people would cremate their loved ones right on the edge of the river.
There are 5 things they don’t burn though. 1) Children 2)Pregnant women 3) Animals 4) Lepers 5) Holy people. For these 5, they tie a stone and drop them into the bottom of the Ganges. Now you can imagine how long they’ve been doing this for. And you can imagine the pollution it creates (on top of an already pretty polluted city). Let’s just leave it at the fact that it’s not uncommon to see carcasses floating down the Ganges or a stray dog eating a half decayed cow on the banks of the Ghats.
Live cremations
The Burning Ghats attracts the most attention as bodies are publicly cremated. It is a very lengthy process with lots of rituals. The very very poor people stay near the Burning Ghats waiting to die, as they don’t have family who can pay for them to be burned. It was explained that it took 200kg of wood to burn a body fully. The men would have the chest cavity remain, and the women, the hips. Because of our labour, that’s where the most bone density is.
The burning doesn’t smell because they use different woods for the burning. A mixture of Banyan tree wood, mango tree and sandal wood. But sandal wood is incredibly expensive, so they just use the powder of sandal wood.
Bathing in the ghats
Regardless, Varanasi has proved to be a good final last stop before we hop on the train and truck North into Nepal to escape this incredible heat. Hotter than the fort in the desert we just came from. Whew!
You’ve seen it in pictures. You know it by name. And you know the country just by looking at this building. The Taj Mahal. And it was about time we finally saw it. This is pretty much the only reason to come to Agra. That and it’s lesser known things, like the fort and gardens.
Ian didn’t expect himself to be incredibly excited. After all, it’s just another monument. It was also reaching 40 degrees at the heat of the day. Not the funnest time to go wandering by any means. And to top it off, the crowds have dispersed, as it is low season, but by jove! if they’re still isn’t a huge line up to go through security. All the reasons were there to not expect a huge “WHOA”. First of, did we mention the ridiculous price of 750 rupees? The locals pay only 20 rupees. Really, 750 rupees is about 15USD. But this has a sneaky upside to it. Because tourists have to pay 750 rupees, we are considered “high value ticket holders” so we skipped the lines and jumped right ahead through security (in hind sight we could’ve), going into the mausoleum, and entering through other high traffic areas.
So that was a little silver lining. Also, going after the heat of the day… is still hot. But at least you’re not wandering in direct sunlight at 2pm in 40 degree heat. And if you’re a photographer, you’d know that around starting at 5pm is the best time for photography too as it has the perfect lighting.
Sun setting on the Taj
With that, we enter the Taj Mahal. Sure the crowds were a little tough to push through. And sure we waited inline to get to a photographic area and then to be bombarded moments later with the locals. And sure we were shoved off immediately by impatient people (tourists alike). But despite all that shoving, pushing, heat, and expensive tickets, seeing the Taj will make you forget ill fated situations that’s part of seeing something this iconic. Awe.
As the sun crept up to it’s evening glow, Ian started running around trying to take advantage of the lighting. He couldn’t contain his excitement.
What is the Taj Mahal? It’s a building constructed in memory of a 3rd wife by the Maharaja (blah blah blah) But because the Maharaja took the taxpayers money to build it, the son (who succeeded him) decreed that he should be locked up for life for selfishly using the taxpayers money. Boy, if politics worked like that today! To make it a double whammy, he was locked up in the Fort across the way in perfect line of sight to the Taj. He had to suffered that sight until he died 8 years later.
View of the Taj from the prison
Now? Now the Ministry of Tourism is using the entrance fee proceeds for maintenance and upkeep. They even declared the space 500 meters around it the “pollution free” zone. So only electric cars, bicycle rickshaws, and horses are allowed in. This is to attempt and keep the Taj Mahal from turning colour from the pollution. And since the Ministry of Tourism is maintaining it, I guess in the end the Taj returned back to it’s people.
2 nights were plenty. We were itching to go to our last city. One of the holiest cities in India. Varanasi.
The air force streaked across the sky more and more often the closer we approached Jaisalmer. Military bases litter the eastern side of the city, the direction in which we were coming from. Pakistan is on the west side of the city by a few hundred kilometers. But that’s close enough to have the military presence for a quick response in case Pakistan decides to strike.
We were warned about the very aggressive touts that were in Jaisalmer. And forewarned we were. To the point where we booked a pick up from the hotel, which turned out to be a good idea. As the bus pulled into the bus stop aka, side of the road, the rickshaws appear from thin air along with their drivers. I didn’t know rickshaw drivers were even on the bus until Neil was stopped by one before he had a chance to even get off. As soon as Ian got off, he was shoved with brochures “Tokyo Palace.” Not a surprise as everyone thinks he’s Japanese. Like, com’on, look at him. Asian; Korean, Japanese, Chinese? Chinese is usually the last guess for some odd reason.
We fight our way to the back of the bus to take our packs, while the rickshaw drivers were cutting us off. They would throw their pitch, we’d walk around them.
“Where is our damn driver?!”
Some incredibly cute calves
Suddenly, a driver comes up to us and whips out a paper with “Christina” written on it, our friend who had booked the hotel and pick up. We all ignored the other drivers and went straight for him. Ian got lost in the confusion as someone grabbed his arm and tried to pull him aside. A quick smack on the wrist and a “I don’t want no trouble, just let me go” did it. The experience there was so chaotic. Hands in face, grabbing, people shouting at you all trying to get your attention and business.
The rickshaw sputtered to life and we were off. We get into our hotel in the morning and sat down for a meal. A quick consolidation of plans and in the afternoon, we were off to see some of the sites of Jaisalmer.
Alladin street-scapes
Jaislamer looks like the romanticized version of Alladin, but in real life; minus the flying carpets and genies. It was a desert city. The old city had very tight streets the width of a cow and amazing drivers; rickshaws and motorbikes alike, squeezing through and honking. Ropes spanned the top of the buildings with clothes drying in the desert sun, while other ropes had a canopy to provide some relief from the sun as it casted a hot shadow on the ground.
And then there was the fort. A living fort from the 1600 if not older. Most the city spills outside of the fort now but everything is planned around the fort. The fort sustained numerous battles and it was evident in its bloody history. And now, the battle its fighting is against water damage as the ancient walls give way to landslides because the foundation had had simply enough of the fort. But the city is repairing it to keep it alive as there are businesses and people living in the fort.
The view of the fort
2 days later, the skin on our bums were chaffed off by the day long camel ride into the remote desert. We started early in the day to beat the desert heat. We sat under a nice big tree for lunch after 2 hours on the camel. We had lunch around 11. Our guide, Dellboy, tied – effectively – handcuffs to the camels feet to prevent them from running away too far while we ate. We set off again at 2 in the afternoon. So much for beating the heat. Even the camels didn’t want to go into the sun.
It wasn’t too much later when we arrive at our sand dunes for the night. By this time, everyone was groaning from pain, in their derriers, their legs, their back, and pretty much everything. A safari it was, but we weren’t warned about how painful riding a camel is.
The formation of the caravan of camels
The camels lay down for us to get down, slowly in agonizing pain our legs swung over the saddle. The handcuffs were put on the camels again, and shame, we saw one camel try to jump with joy that his work was done, but only to find he could only hop. Slightly. And then he was sad again.
A beer boy appeared from thin air (I don’t know if it’s the Alladdin spell in the desert, but people seem to do that here…) Everyone bought a beer from him to watch the sun set on the desert dunes. The sky turned red and the scarabs crawled out from hiding. You know those little beetles you saw in The Mummy? Yeah, those black beetles came out. And they bite. But they don’t dig into your skin though, luckily.
The black beetles drinking liquids
As night settled herself over us, dinner was served. And we served the scarabs as hundreds and thousands, possibly, decided to test if we were dinner. We sat under the brightest stars we’ve seen in over 2 years. Star gazing was definitely on the agenda that night. Each of us pretended to know what constellations we were talking about and pointed out shooting stars. Christa missed every single one. The moon didn’t rise until the morning, so we had a whole night of bright star gazing.
We all slept in a plastic bag with raised edges to that the scarabs couldn’t crawl in and into our blankets. The desert was cold at night. Dropped down into the mid teens. But in the day, mid thirties. To be expected, but to experience it was brutal.
Camel safari through the dunes
The moon rose at 4 am, and then the sun rose an hour later. Dellboy, our guide, rose with the moon and started making breakfast for us. Tea was ready by the time we wanted to watch the sunrise. But only Ian was up for that. After boiled egg breakfast, we were back on the painful saddle. Luckily we took the short half day back. We met up with the jeep after an incredible 3 hours of pain.
We shot back to the city and settled ourselves into the fort this time. We had to spend a night in the old fort. And this was an old city. Everything was stone. Our hotel was right against the wall of the city so we could look over the desert from our small window in our room. The building the hotel was in spans over 3 centuries old. The roads inside the old city was the width of half a cow and only motorbikes made it through. Not before running it’s tires all over the cow dung which was plentiful. Open defecation is popular.
Sunset in the desert
The experience of staying in the fort is pretty unique. The sad thing is, inside the fort, it’s completely based on tourism. There was not a single local shop for local people who don’t want any trouble there. Christa went with our friend Christina to get a full body ayurvedic massage for post-camel safari comfort.
Next day, we got on the night train to a very iconic city in India; Agra.
An agonizing 5 hour train ride from Jaipur proved to be disastrous, for our stomachs anyways. It was hot, stuffy, and the stomach provided no relief from the heat or discomfort. The sleeper trains that were seemingly comfortable for 15 minutes was very uncomfortable within 1 minute. We had 5 hours to go.
We get into our guesthouse in Jodhpur, eventually, and literally just exploded. Literally. We tagged team the toilet and beat the crap out of it. Or more accurately the crap was beaten out of us. Our friend from across the hall and up one floor could hear us. It was fantastic. We started our anti-biotics when we got into the guest house. We were smart enough to pick them up before we left Korea. Finally using them. Ian, the Canadian had a fever and felt cold in 30+ degree weather, while Christa was feeling hot. The room had a fan with one speed. No compromise. We slept for the whole afternoon and night and into the morning, while occasionally waking up to use the toilet. We took the pills when we need to and drank liquids as much as possible. There’s nothing more fun than having your food trying to kill you while travelling. Finally, near the morning, Ian had enough strength to go to the roof top restaurant while Christa had already felt a lot better from the anti-biotics. Ian thought it was a great idea to let the stomach bug stew in Jaipur.
The most that Ian saw of Jodhpur was the toilet walls of the guesthouse while Christa managed to go zip lining down the fort wall of Jodhpur. This fort was the same fort that Bain escaped from in Batman: The Dark Knight Rises franchise. Also, Christian Bale (Batman) escaped from by free soloing up the prison walls and making his leap of faith to freedom.
Christa ziplining
Zip lining down the wall proved to be the biggest attraction in Jodhpur. It was slightly expensive, but there are 6 levels to zip line down. Took 45 minutes to get all the down. You get to control the speed of your descent with a brake. But if you slow down too much, you won’t be able to get to the last platform, which forces you to go a little quicker. But it’s no problem if you don’t make it across. Someone comes to your rescue. Ian hung out in the toilet at the guest house.
Finally, after 2 nights, on the 3rd day, it was time to move. The desert was calling. The call of the desert fort in Jaisalmer was beckoning us. It was time to go.
