Pushkar: A 'Very Special' Place

A few weeks ago, Austin, Oscar, and I headed out for a roadtrip to Pushkar, which is south of Delhi in Rajasthan.  Pushkar is a holy city in the Hindu faith and is most characterized by it's small but lovely lake and ghats where pilgrims go to bathe in the waters.  It's also famous for hosting Asia's largest camel and cattle fair, which was going on while we were there.

I think that Pushkar was a big hit with all of us.  Despite being a fairly major tourist destination both for Hindu pilgrims and for Western tourists, it's charming and essentially is a very small town.  We rolled in late at night and had to call to hotel for a motorcycle escort who guided us through the wending streets to our little hotel by the shores of the lake.  The hotel was bare bones, but clean enough and not too bad given the number of people in town.  We had a rooftop restaurant with a nice view over the lake and town, and were within walking distance of everything.  

On Saturday, we rolled out of bed, had breakfast and went to see the cattle fair.  Let's just say that there were a lot of camels in Pushkar.  And, most of them were being led around by the nose by leathery Rajasthani men with fabulous turbans.  Austin and Devindar sampled camel's milk ice cream and we did some shopping along the main thoroughfare.  Austin and Oscar were over that pretty quickly and soon said they'd meet me and Devindar later at the Pink Floyd Cafe.  I of course proceeded to amuse myself shopping for a couple of hours, and by the time we caught up with the boys, they were happy as clams, each with a 'very special' lassi under their belts and feeling no pain.  Needless to say, our afternoon proceeded at a langourous pace from that point forward.  I was hopped up on antibiotics and figured that adding substance abuse to my list of sins was probably not wise, so I got a spectator's seat for the duration.  The skies over Pushkar boast some of the best stars I've seen in India.  We ate dinner and played cards, watching the sun bury itself in the hills until we were sitting under a sparkling canopy.

On Sunday, the boys couldn't resist the pull of Pink Floyd and its tasty treats, so after breakfast, we detoured to the cafe for more lassi before we hit the road.  The crowds of people coming off of the main ghat were so thick that we had trouble pushing our way through.  I'm still not sure where the flood of people came from or went to, but for a few minutes we were awash in humanity - so very India.

Done with Pushkar, we decided to hit Ajmer before leaving the area.  I have to say now that it was my idea, and probably a bad one.  Ajmer has a famous Sufi shrine that was a pilgrimage destination in the Mughal era.  The complex of temples and shrines is supposed to be impressive and worth seeing, but it was not to be.  The security ladies there are serious.  I apparently had so much contraband in my purse (makeup, an umbrella, etc.) that they would not even consider allowing me in the gates.  Unfortunately, they weren' terribly verbal types, so I discovered this when they bear-hugged me and dragged me out.  Luckily, a quick flash of good sense came before my self-preservation instincts caused me to start using self-defense moves to extricate myself.  For some unknown reason, the only Hindi word that I could remember was "stop," which I settled for screaming at the top of my lungs.  Ugly, but effective.  The whole thing rattled me pretty badly and I'm no much of an Ajmer fan as a result.  But, it was a good reminder the feigning blythe ignorance doesn't always work in these situations.

The rest of our trip home was pretty uneventful, especially after that.  All told, Pushkar was a big hit with the boys, and I myself am a fan.  In the end, it seems like an oasis, with it's tiny jewel of a lake and star-ladened skies.  If you have the opportunity to go, you must.  Take a good book, go to the lake and perform a puja for your heart's desire, or stake out a seat in a rooftop cafe - Life could get a heck of a lot worse.

Taru's Engaged!

Taru, my friend and colleague, got engaged in Rohtak, Haryana on Sunday.  Austin and I headed out fairly early from Delhi, all decked out in our India gear - kurta pyjama for Austin; salwar kameez for me.  The banquet was intimate, with just family and close friends in attendance to witness the ring ceremony and exchange of gifts between the families.   Taru looked beautimous in a hot pink saree; Karun was handsome in a grey suit and lilac shirt.  It was an honor to be included with their family and friends on such an auspicious occasion. Mubarak ho.

Paradise, By Way of Dubai

Oscar, Heather and I took advantage of the long Diwali weekend to head out of India for the sandy beaches, sunshine, and tourquoise waters of the Maldives.  Since we booked everything the week of, our choices of travel times and prices were limited, but we didn't let that put a damper on things.  We ended up flying Emirates, via Dubai, and so were able to acquire two sets of passport stamps in one four-day weekend.

In the Maldives, we stayed at Chaaya Island Dhonveli, and enjoyed our all-inclusive little butts off.  There was truly nothing to do but 'eat, drink, and be merry' . . . Oh yeah. And sunbathe.  We all read a bunch; Oscar developed a gym habit; Heather went surfing with a bunch of Australians, and I went snorkeling in the lagoon. Very relaxing and much needed in the midst of start-of-quarter, performance-review madness.  I saw several sting rays and two of what I think were moray eels.  In addition there were tons of trigger fish, angel fish, butterfly fish, and at least three kinds of blowfish, one of which was about three feet long and wearing and awesome set of camouflage.  The other remarkable wildlife were the bats - not just nocturnal, we saw them out and about during the day much more often than we saw birds, and I'm pretty sure we also saw them fishing.  Very cool.  There were also tons of hermit crabs of all sizes.  On our first day there, Oscar and I were escorted through the bar by a hermit crab about the size of my fist.  Almost every time I went to pick up a shell, it would scuttle away into the underbrush.

After three days of swimming around the atoll, three buffets a day, and cocktails at sunset, we were forced to head back to the real world.  On our way home, we had a seven hour layover in Dubai, so we headed out of the airport and decided to poke around in the Mall of the Emirates.  We found ourselves a seat at the bottom of the ski run in the Kempinzki's Sezzam restaurant and I ponied up to a glass of Shiraz and the biggest (200 g), baddest burger that I have had in months.  Fantastico.  After puttering through the mall for an hour or so, we headed back to the airport to catch our flight to Delhi.  I soothed my nostalgia for home with a Starbuck's run...mmmm, decaf Caramel Machiato with soy milk. Yum, yum, yum.  A

Arriving in Delhi at 3am bites the big one, no matter which way you cut it, but we were able to get home, get some rest and, well, Oscar and I made it into work by 9am or so.  None too shabby.

Tantra and Temple Dust

This weekend, Oscar, Jody and I headed out for Orchha and Khajuraho to see the temple carvings and get away from it all a bit.  The rest of the Essel Towers posse went on prior trips, so I was fortunate to find two fairly new folks who wanted to go with me.  We took an evening train from Delhi's Nizamuddin station to Jhansi, and then headed into Orchha in a cab.  Our hotel turned out to be pretty nice, even though it wasn't the room in the palace that we were hoping for (seriously).  Since there were three of us, I booked the Heritage Suite at the Betwa Retreat, which ended up being a Mughal-style bungalow with a couple of rooms and a marble bathroom - none too shabby.  After a dinner of butter chicken, naan and Sand Piper beer (believe it or not, there's something other than Kingfisher in India?!), we hit the sack to get some sleep for our big trip to Khajuraho in the morning.

On Saturday, our "roll out of bed early" plans fell a bit flat, but we rallied and were on the road by around eleven.  Manoj, our driver from the night before, was our guide for the four-hour road trip to Khajuraho to see the temple carvings.  Khajuraho is most famous for it's 11th century Jain and Hindu temples with erotic carvings.  Of the original 85 temples, only 23 remain, but they're glorious.  The overall effect is not so much erotic as intricate, though many of the carvings drew as much warmth from their subject matter as they did from the setting sun.  We were fortunate to see the temples in the last three hours of daylight, which made the golden stones glow.  There were a few tour groups of Europeans, and several Indian families, but on the whole, the temples were pleasantly underpopulated.  Jody, Oscar and I sat on the plinth of one of the temples and watched the sunset over the Western temple group - absolutely amazing.  After the sun went down, Jody and I did some touristy shopping while Oscar tried not to get his pockets picked by the nine-year-olds hanging around the plaza.  For dinner, we headed to Mediterraneo and had pizza, red wine and apple pie a la mode in their rooftop restaurant, which was so good - even the cricket that took a nose dive down my shirt didn't put a damper on things.  After dinner, while Oscar and Jody went in search of an apertif, I had a very interesting tri-lingual conversation with some of the local guys who were studying to be government guides; trying to make my brain switch over into Spanish without mixing in any Hindi or English was pretty tricky, but it made for an interesting discussion.  Armed with mango juice and a bit of vodka, we started on the four-hour trip back to Orchha. Open container laws, what open container laws?  After one drink, I realized that I was outclassed in the beverage department and stuck to dj-ing with my iPod and portable speakers.  Our ride home was pretty fun, but not uneventful.  We got no less than two flat tires and finally had to stop to get both tires repaired at one of those Punjabi truck stops that are scattered along the highways in India.  We rolled into Orchha at about 1am and hit the hay, some of us harder than others.

Sunday morning came bright and early, but we didn't see it until about 9am.  After breakfast and lots of beverages - tea for some of us, water for others - we packed up our bags and set off to see Orchha.  Home of the Bundela kings, Orchha like Khajuraho, dates from the 11th century or so.  The town is quite small and mostly devoted to small shops that cater to tourists, but it is settled at the feet to two large palaces, a group of cenotaphs, and several stately temples.  Given that we had a half day, we probably didn't do Orchha justice, but we still saw a lot.  We started by climbing the cenotaphs for a view out over the river.   After wending our way up and down teeny, winding staircases for a while, we headed back into town to see the Raj Mahal and Jengahir Palace.  All were amazing.  The palaces were like a child's fantasy fort come to life and without a safety harness.  You can climb in, around, over, under, across and through a warren of royal apartments, hammams, and audience halls.  In typical India fashion, it's user beware.  We traipsed across scaffolding and eventually found ourselves edging along the battlements to sit in a cupola on the exterior walls.  Throughout the palaces, there are fragments of azure, lapis and deep tourquoise tile work, and delicately carved balconies with screens that go just past your head so that the ladies of the palace could look out on the town, unobserved.  Everything is simultaneously in a state of decline and undergoing repairs, but the beauty of the buildings is striking.

After literally climbing all over the palace for an hour or more, we stopped into the restaurant at the Sheesh Mahal hotel, which is located in a wing of Jengahir palace.  This is where Austin, Mollie, et. al. stayed in Orchha, and where I'd tried to get us a room to no avail.  Jody went and inspected the rooms and declared them to be the equal of our room at Betwa Retreat, but no more, so I guess it all came out all right in the end.  By the time we finished lunch, and Jody had fed the mamma dog with a litter of puppies outside, it was time to head for Jhansi to catch our train.  Manoj got us there safely and we even had a spare half hour to check out Jhansi fort, before we caught the Shatabdi back to Delhi.  

I loved Khajuraho and Orchha.  I highly recommend going, if ever you have the chance.  I found myself sitting on the ramparts of this 11th century palace, looking out over the river and scattered temples with the wind eddying around me, and thinking, "I love India."  I cannot imagine having missed this opportunity.  Had I not come here for work, I probably never would have figured out how to get to India, and just think what I would have missed.  Amazing.

Lattes & Singing Bowls

A week or so ago, Heather and I took a quick trip to Dharamsala in Himachal Pradesh.  Dharamsala is the seat of the Tibetan government in exile, as well as being a hill station perched in the Himalayan foothills.  We flew up mid-afternoon on Friday and landed at Kangra airport, which is in the valley below Dharamsala.  Kangra was in the midst of a lazy summer afternoon, but as we wended our way up the mountain to Dharamsala, the fog laced cool fingers through the trees and coaxed the temperature down a bit.  Himachal Pradesh has made me feel right at home each time I've visited.  It's the home of morning fog, cool evenings, crisp apples and woodsmoke, which are all the more disconcerting for being found just beyond the sweltering plains around Delhi.

The Tibetan government resides in McLeod Ganj, which is aerie to Dharamsala's peak, and high enough to have it's own micro-climate.  We stayed at Chonor House, which overlooks the Dalai Lama's temple and residence. Chonor House is the top of the line in Dharamsala - it is very nice, but that fact argues for the whole scale having shifted a bit.  The hotel is run by the Norbulinka Institute, which is chartered with safeguarding and sustaining Tibetan culture.  There are beautiful Tibetan woodwork, applique, and paintings scattered throughout the hotel and each room has a particular theme.  The hotel shop and a store in town sell the beautiful clothes and handicrafts produced at the Institute; Heather got some lovely things and I was sorely tempted, but stuck to a silver ring and a book about Norbulinka.

Once we stowed our gear at Chonor House, we wandered into town to grab an early dinner and see what McLeod Ganj was all about.  The town itself is quite small, just 2-3 km of road wrapped around the hillside.  We walked to what appeared to be the end of the line, and then turned back to have dinner at J.J.I. Restaurant.  Apparently, it was one of the proprietors' birthdays and the staff, consisting of 4-5 members of a Tibetan boy-band, had been drinking all afternoon.  Needless to say, I don't really want to know what went into our food before we got it and things were a little shaky on the way to the table.  Probably the best response is to just say that the thentuk (Tibetan noodles) and hot honey ginger lemon tea tasted great and didn't make us sick - though we were on the lookout for trouble.  

On our second day in Dharamsala, we met up with the brother of a Tibetan doctor that Heather's aunt works with.  He was supposed to be a great English-speaker, married with kids, and very handsome...I think we hit 1 for three - not married, English a leetle bit shaky.  Kaldup met us midday at our hotel and treated us to a cup of tea at his apartment.  While we were chatting, it started to rain cats and dogs outside.  We hung out for a while waiting for it to pass before deciding to go boldly forth and strike out for the Dalai Lama's temple.  Kaldup took us on a path through the back alleys of his neighborhood that landed us smartly at the temple gates.  Along the way, the deluge continued until I had water running over the tops of my feet - no, Mom, no leptospirosis so far.

The Dalai Lama's temple complex has a small but evocative museum covering the Tibetan exodus and all that the Chinese have done to eradicate Tibetan culture.  You begin to understand Richard Gere's passion for the subject, however incredible the vessel.  I kept thinking, "someone needs to stand up for these people...why hasn't someone done something."  As a country that prides ourselves on resistance of the oppressor and fervently carries the standard of democracy, I think we may be missing a golden opportunity.  The temple itself is very simple, and very well attended.  Most of the community seems to come here for morning prayers, which made the people watching along Temple Road pretty spectacular over our lovely lattes.  I have to pause here and give a huge shout-out to Coffee Talk on Temple Road - best latte in India, hands down.  Heather and I were in heaven.  And the breakfast of omelettes and Tibetan toast was amazing too.  We liked it so much we ate there twice... yum, yum, yum.  After we finished touring the temple complex, the rain had slackened off a bit, allowing us to make it back to Chonor House and part ways with Kaldup without getting inundated.  After a cup of tea, a snack and an afternoon nap, we headed into town to do some serious singing-bowl shopping...whooo-aahhh.  We also ducked in to Jimmy's Italian Restaurant for a good dinner and a local jam session, which was a fantastic way to end the day.  I highly recommend it.  The only regrettable part of the day was hearing about the Delhi bomb blasts over dinner, and the mad scramble of text messaging and calls to make sure that everyone on our teams was ok.  We fell asleep to Blackberry vibrations as people checked in on one another - all present and accounted for, thank God.

On Sunday, our last day in Dharamsala, we headed down to the Norbulinka Institute itself with Kaldup, our local volunteer tour guide.  The Institute was beautiful; the temple there has some of the nicest paintings I've seen, and it was nice to be able to see the work the organization is doing to preserve Tibetan culture.  After the Institute, we visited a modern Tibetan temple down the road, complete with monk dormitories and light-up lotus lamps.  Back up the mountain to McLeod Ganj, another latte and some cake, and we were on the road again.  Wings up over Dharamsala and the Kangra valley....

Safe and Sound

This evening five bomb blasts went off in Delhi killing at least 10 people. They were placed in crowded public places with the clear intent to harm as many people as possible. They were placed in locations that I regularly go. If there ever was an illusion of safety here, it's pretty thin today.

Heather and I are safe and sound in Dharamsala, or MacLeod Ganj specifically, just down the street from the Dalai Llama's house. We've been madly text messaging people at home in Delhi and have managed to confirm that our roommates, drivers and most of our teams are safe as well. Please keep your fingers crossed that this remains the case.

'Nothing But Blue Skies...'

For Labor Day weekend, six of us headed out to lovely Leh, Ladakh for a restful vacation in the Himalayas.  Mollie and David flew up from Hyderabad; Heather, Austin and I represented the Gurgaon crew, and Austin's friend Jenni joined us from the States.  

When you fly into Leh, you arrive at an air force base.  There are two flights every morning between Delhi and Leh, and that's about it in terms of ingress and egress.  Leh is in a high valley which is bordered on all sides by steep mountain ranges.  As you come in, the plane banks sharply into the scoop of the valley, tracing a wingtip toward the sweep of the Indus river.  Our first day in Leh, we mainly stayed in town and visited sites nearby: Leh Palace, Stok Palace, Shanti Stupa, a temple and the main bazar.  Because the elevation is so high, it's not considered wise to do much on your first day, and we definitely were huffing and puffing a bit climbing steps.  

Leh has a distinctly different feel from the rest of India that I've seen.  It is very arid with huge snow-capped mountains surrounding small villages, monasteries and towns.  The aesthetic is much more East Asian in terms of style and color pallette, and the people have features more similar to Tibetan or Chinese people.  Weather-wise, Leh is considerably cooler than what we're used to in Delhi.  Even in early September, we were somewhat bundled up in the evenings and early mornings.  For me, it felt more like home.  Even the flowers in the gardens are the same ones we would grow at home - bright, bolting, zinnias, dahlias, cosmos, and marigolds peeked out of yards everywhere we went.  I had the sense the crisp Fall frost would soon put an end to the abounding color, but it was lovely to behold while we were there.

On our second day, we got up at the crack of dawn to drive out to the Nubra Valley.  About four hours by car from Leh, Nubra is a hub for trekking, camel safaris, and generally communing with nature.  We decided to just do a day trip, but another group from our office went and stayed in the valley itself for a day or two.  It's hard to imagine what that might be like to do that - Nubra seems really remote after the hustle and bustle of Delhi.  The drive itself is beautiful, crossing the 'world's highest motorable pass,' and wending its way down into the valley.  It was so bizarre, after months of warmth, to find ourselves in a snow storm.  The high, puffy white clouds, set in azure blue skies over dun-colored peaks scattered with snow, created a vista unlike any I've seen - truly amazing.  The drive was also punctuated by a bit of humor, from my traveling companions of course, but also from the signs placed by the local road authority - some excerpts for your reading pleasure:

• Don't gossip, let him drive
• Be gentle on my curve
• I'm curvaceous, go slow
• After whisky, driving risky
• Better Mr. Late, than late Mr.

In Nubra, we took a brief (45 minute) camel safari that was supposed to drop us off at Deskit monastery and instead left us in sand dunes about 2 km away.  The camels were bactrian or two-humped camels and very furry.  My camel did NOT like his hump touched, and since they were all tied together on short leads, there were a lot of near misses as one camel would tend to tinkle on the foot of the trailing camel's passenger.  It may not sound like much fun, but it was.  After the safari, we grumpily hoofing it through the dunes to our car and continued on to the the monastery at Diskit.  The monks here were friendly and let us come in and observe their midday meal, which smelled great.  I can hardly imagine such a solitary life, but the beauty of the surroundings and the solitude do tend to put one in a contemplative mood.  We lunched on thukpa and momos in Diskit town and were back on the road back to Leh by mid-afternoon.  When we got back to Hotel Lasermo, we were pretty pooped and late-afternoon naps were in order.  I hunkered down with my book and a pot of chai until the posse was ready for dinner.  Thanks to the Canadian contingent (David), our choice of dinner establishment was made via Canadian rochambeau - instead of rock/paper/scissors, it's cowboy/bear/damsel.  We had a good dinner at Summer Harvest and then went early to bed to prepare for another early morning the following day.

On day 3, we set out for Pangong lake around 7am, again with our trusty driver Sonam and the hotel's Scorpio.  We drove into the mountains for an hour or so, but near the main pass to cross out of the valley in which Leh sits, we were stymied by snow.  Now me, I was ready to skip the lake when the road turned white and we were able to make snowballs at a roadside pit stop.  Everyone else, however, was ready to go on, but that didn't last long.  Near the top of the pass, the paved road ended and the snow was slick enough that the car was fishtailing a bit - not an amusing experience with no guardrails and hundred-foot drops to one side.  We actually left the driver to turn the car around and walked back down to the paved road - "the better part of valour is discretion."  In the end, I think the re-route made us better off.  Rather than another 4+ hours driving in either direction to see the lake, we stopped at two of the major monasteries, Chemde and Thiksey, on the Leh-Manali road, and had lunch at the Chambra Hotel, which had a lovely garden with picnic tables for us to eat at.  The monasteries were beautiful - with very elaborate Buddist paintings and statuary.  I wouldn't have wanted to miss that.

All too quickly, our Leh adventure was coming to an end.  We ran our last few errands - Ladakhi hats and Kashmiri honey for me - and headed to Dreamland Restaurant for dinner.  We were joking that our restaurant choices got incrementally better with each meal, with Summer Harvest, Chambra Hotel, and Dreamland being the three best.  After a game of gin over ginger honey lemon tea, we were early to bed so that we could get up bright and early for our 6:50am flight back to Delhi.  All in all, I loved Leh.  It was really different, and consequently a good break from the rest of India.  Since it's snowbound for most of the year, I was glad that we were able to squeeze in this trip before winter sets in for good.  I also have to give a shout-out to my traveling companions - Mollie, Heather, Austin, David, and Jenni might be one of the best road-trip posses ever - good humor, jumping and 'Evita' photos, bush-peeing expertise, rocking out to ipod speakers in the car - what more can you ask for?

The Nehas Do Pondicherry

A few weeks ago, my team hosted a conference in Hyderabad, and most of the folks flew down from Gurgaon to attend.  Austin and I had been talking about going to Pondicherry, since it's a farily short hop to the south and east.  Before we knew it, we had 10 traveling companions signed on for a road trip, including all three Nehas from my team - Neha A, Neha S, and Neha T.  

From Hyderabad, you have to travel to Chennai (Madras) and then continue on to Pondicherry via bus or car down the East Coast Road.  Our orignal plan was to take an overnight bus to Chennai, and 9 of the folks did that; from Chennai to Pondy, we planned to rent cars and drive.  However, we weren't able to get enough bus tickets for the whole team (darn it), so Austin and me, and the two drivers, Taru and Divya, flew at the crack of dawn on Saturday morning to Chennai to pick up the cars and meet the bus.  We went through some shenanigans to find the rental car company, get gas, and find the bus station, only to find out that 'The Nehas' and their traveling companions were somewhere in downtown Chennai.  I need to stop here and pay homage to Google Maps and my Indian Blackberry.  The cell-tower triangulation on Google Maps was good enough (pinpointing our location within 3 meters for most of the trip) that I was able to navigate us through Chennai and on to Pondicherry, just by using Google Maps on my Blackberry.

Once we had the whole crew assembled and brunched, we were on the road again, headed for Pondicherry.  The East Coast Road is phenomenally good, by Indian standards, so the trip went fairly smoothly. We rolled into Pondy in the late afternoon, and after checking into our hotel, headed for the promenade along the beach.  Pondicherry is famous for two things - being the last French colony in India, and being home to the Utopian community of Auroville.  It also happens to be right on the coast of the Bay of Bengal, with beaches nearby.  In Pondy itself, the beach is rocky, so it's more for taking in the view than soaking up the sun.  After shopping around town and getting blessed by Lakshmi, the temple elephant, we headed to Rendezvous for some of the French cuisine that Pondy is famous for.  In the end, my traveling companions stuck with the Indian food, but I had a lovely Chicken Cordon Bleu and was pretty happy with life in general.

Our trip was short and sweet, so on Sunday at midday, we had to head back for Chennai.  After cafe au lait and croissants for breakfast at Le Cafe on the beach, we packed up our things and headed for Mahabalipurum, which is a beach town about 1 hour south of Chennai.  Mahabs, as it's known, has actual sand beaches and the most lookey-lous I have seen anywhere in India.  We went to the public beach to spend an hour or so enjoying the surf and sand.  The lighter skin of my traveling companions apparently was tremendously exotic to the Tamil locals, and it didn't help that all of the girls were frolicking in the waves.  I learned this trip that people on the beach in India swim in their clothes, not in swimsuits.  The only time that I'd been to the beach here, prior to Mahabs was in Goa where, apparently, the strong expat influence has changed the beach culture to be more Western in style.  

After everyone on the team went swimming in their clothes, we found a resort where folks could clean up and headed for a late lunch.  Unfortunately, we miscalculated time a bit and ended up having to take the food to go and leadfoot it out of town to get everyone back to Chennai in time for their flights.  We screeched to a halt in front of the Chennai airport and 10 girls and 2 guys poured out of the car, racing for check-in.  We were just in the nick of time.  The Nehas and posse made their flight by minutes, and Austin and I cruised into our flight just 30 minutes later.  Whew!  I would like to go back to Pondicherry sometime and do less of a speed round, but I'm really glad that I got to go, and it was fun to see the town with my team.  Vive la France!

The Vagaries of Indian Travel

I knew the day before Indian Independence Day was probably not a good day to go anywhere when they decided to close our whole office an hour and a half early because of traffic caused by extra border checks. Then, to top it off, the monsoon rain that has been noticeably missing from Delhi skies decided to arrive with a vengance. By the time we left the office at 4pm, the water was lapping over the curbs and creeping toward the lobby of our building. Only the fearless squeegee boys beating it back prevented our building from becoming like a canal home in Venice.

Austin and I made a run for the cab, hoping that Devindar would be able to pull it up to the curb, but no dice. Wearing sandals, and with Mom's warnings about leptospirosis fresh in my head, I very quickly realized that I had no choice but to shuck off my shoes and wade through it all to the car. Once we were safely ensconced in the cab, it took us more than 45 minutes to creep our way around the corner and one exit down the freeway to Essel Towers. We had already decided that to get to the airport for our 8:40pm flight to Hyderabad, we should leave the house at 5:40 - that's right, three hours in advance, when the airport is maybe a 20 minute drive away. By the time we had packed up, grabbed a snack and reassembled at the curb, the water in Essel itself was more than a foot deep. We surfed Lake Essel successfully and wormed our way into the solid jam of traffic outside on MG road.

All in all, it took us more than two hours just to reach the offramp for Indira Ghandi International. As we're sitting at a standstill with exactly one hour until our flight and 3 km of standing traffic in front of us, Devindar suggested that we make a run for it, so that's what we did. Devindar hoisted my wheelie on his back, Austin and I grabbed our backpacks and bags, and we hoofed our way through mud puddles and traffic, about two thirds of the way to the airport, before hailing an incoming cab and chumming a ride the rest of the way. And...we made it! Devindar is, as always, my personal hero. Poor guy, it's his birthday and he's puddle-jumping with my overstuffed suitcase on his back, and all with a smile on his face. Austin and I washed our feet in the bathrooms and were 'Flying the Good times' in no time at all.

With what we thought was the biggest hurdle behind us, we settled into Hyderabad for Thursday night and Friday, and got ready to go to Hampi for the weekend. Mari and Lindsay, two colleagues coming in for a conference, joined us for a Chinese dinner before we headed out to catch our overnight train for Hampi. But au contrare, mon frer... it was not to be. We get to the train station and, 'so sorry, but your train car is not here and all trains to Hampi have been canceled.' Apparently, as we found out later, the river in Hampi has flooded, so the railroad siding is impassable, our hotel is closed....you get the picture. Thankfully, we figured this all out after unsuccessfully trying to jump on an overnight bus and before hiring a car to drive us to Hampi. This is the second time that my travel plans in India have been a total wipeout, and I'm over being shocked by it. Here's hoping that next weekend's trip to Pondicherry goes more smoothly. I think India is deepening my faith in serendipity. Yeah Hampi would have been nice to see, but swamped Hampi and a cramped overnight train - not so great. Instead, I'm off to have a 200 rupee massage, courtesy of my employer, get my toes done, and have some blouses made at the local tailor. Tomorrow, it will be sleep in, gym it and have a champagne brunch. Can I complain - I mean really?

'There, But For The Grace of God...'

A fire broke out on an overnight train traveling from Hyderabad through the state of Andhra Pradesh this past weekend. Two colleagues from our Hyderabad office are missing and feared to be dead. The speed and brutality with which life can be snuffed out here are breathtaking. I thank God for my country with its hundreds of seemingly-fussy laws intended to protect consumer safety. Anyone of us may die tomorrow and accidents happen everywhere, but I feel relatively assured that when my days end, it shall not be in trying to pry the steel bars from the windows of a burning train car.

Please take a moment to wish Hari, Roshni and their families well. In a country that believes so deeply in karma, any good wishes can only help. I sincerely hope that we'll see their safe return, but failing that, I hope that they are together and at peace.

My Name's 'High' and Yours is 'Maintenance'

This past weekend, Heather and I headed out to Shimla, which lies in Himachal Pradesh on the slopes of the Himalyas. Shimla is what's known as a 'hill station' and was the favorite summer get-away during the British Raj. It has been known as the 'Queen of Hill Stations' and is much-favored for it's cool, crisp weather and British architecture. There are several ways to reach Shimla, of which an express train from Delhi and a connecting toy train from Kalka is probably the best. However, with only a two-day junket as a possibility, we ended up deciding to drive up on Friday night after work. And so the adventure begins....

The drive up from Delhi was fairly uneventful until we reached the Himalyan foothills and started the climb up to Shimla. Though we had the usual Indian road trip fun along the way: a bike-full of Indian stud-muffins blowing us kisses, the Indian Oil restroom in Kalka with the most prolific and vibrantly-colored collection of bugs I have ever seen (I'm to a point now where I see this as a plus in a bathroom, as long as none of them crawl on me), and near-death experiences every 3 to 5 kms. Once we left Kalka and paid our HP states taxes, the road increased its pitch to a stunning degree. I have to say that, in general, HP made me feel right at home - winding roads a-la Highway 17, blue-green conifers with mist hanging amongst their branches, roadside stands with piles of crisp apples, and wonder-of-wonders - true blue skies with puffy white clouds. On our way up, the majority of the journey was in pitch darkness. We passed the time singing along to my iPod's 'Music to Drive Home By' playlist. You have to love Devindar - he speaks only some English, but that didn't stop him from contributing back-up vocals to 'Black Horse and the Cherry Tree.' That always makes me smile. The road was super-duper winding, which for me was absorbed and buffered by the velvety blackness around us. Devindar, however, was not so lucky. Poor guy got carsick. Twice. I've told him I think this might be a bit of a liability for someone in his profession, but he assures me that, as a flatlander, he is rarely bothered by this. I've prescribed ginger candies and no more long road trips with 'Meather' - we'll see if that cures him.

We rolled into the Oberoi Cecil in Shimla at about 1 am, only to find that, despite being 30% occupied, they'd given us the 'best' room, without a view and hovering only two floors over the road. Ugh. The room itself, in true Oberoi fashion, was very nice, so I made one attempt at an upgrade with the guy who showed us to our room, and once rebuffed, settled down to brush my teeth and use the facilities. Heather prowled around the room, miffed at the poor service and inflexibility of an Oberoi staff and eventually decided to object for sport. Admittedly, they showed a chink in their armor when the night manager called me, post valet piss-off, and asked if we needed anything, could she 'send the chef to our room,' etc. Knowing her adversary was back on her heels a bit, Heather went in for the kill - 'We expect a better room...,' 'I'm sure that you can do better,...' --- Needless to say, due to my fearless companion's indomitable spirit, we were quickly ensconced in a top-floor room with a view out over the valley. That's us - 'High' and 'Maintenance.'

The next day, we made good use of that room and slept in until about 10 am, before rolling downstairs for a very nice buffet breakfast. The dining room at 'The Obs,' as Heather calls it, looks directly into the tree tops, so we ate our breakfast surrounded by mists and lovely filtered light. And they had warm croissants with strawberry jam. Life just doesn't get much better than that. After breakfast, we got cleaned up and rolled out to meet Devindar. Our initial objective was Mall Rd. for shopping and sightseeing, but Devindar suggested that we go to the HP state museum that was just up the hill from where we were staying. We scaled a small mountain to get there and discovered a small but charming bungalow of artifacts, paintings and coins. On the way back down, we encountered the kind of cluster... you can only find in India. A delivery truck had tried to pass a parked car without enough space, and now about 10 people were conferring on how best to rectify the situation. Since the entire road was blocked, we climbed over the railing and goose-stepped along the edge until we could get back on solid ground. Ahhh, India.

Post-museum, we debated a wide variety of options and finally settled on driving to Kulfri, which is apparently a skiing spot during the winters. In typical fashion, insert several traffic jams, one or two wrong turns, and much debate before we arrive at our location. Kulfri turned out to be an absolute mill of people and ponies. Absent snow, Kulfri is apparently where folks go to traipse into the wilderness on horseback. By the time we got to this point, Heather was having no part of a pony ride, or a Yak ride, which seemed the more-appealing option to me. On a side note, real yaks - gorgeous. You've never seen such a silky mop of hair on an animal. I wish I could have gotten pictures, but in the interest of domestic tranquility, we went on our merry way. On our way back to Shimla, we attempted to get into the Oberoi's Wildflower Hall for a drink and snacks and were somewhat politely and very soundly rebuffed. Let me take a minute here to say that, I don't care how ritzy a hotel is or how posh their usual clientèle, I have NO respect for an institution in the hospitality industry that doesn't actually exude any welcome whatsoever. If their reception of us is any indication, I would never, ever spend money at Wildflower Hall, and I would think twice before choosing an Oberoi again - the saving grace being Ms. Priyanka Singh's late-night room upgrade and gracious care of us at The Cecil. Take a Taj hotel any day.

Thoroughly disgruntled by now, we headed back to Shimla to attempt Mall Rd. On the way there, we stopped at the Radisson, which a colleague at work had told me was famous for their trout, which is caught in local streams. Again, no room at the inn - they're all booked for dinner. But, huzzah! Their bar is open. And, their super-friendly and accommodating staff go the extra mile to whip us up a couple of trout dinners. So, along about 5:30pm on a Saturday night in Shimla, Heather and I ponied up to a basket of fries, two cocktails, and the best trout I have ever had. Replete and much happier, we shared a warm brownie and brightened our outlook on the day considerably.

Mall Rd. was chaos. The incline to get to the summit is steep enough that there is a paid lift that you take to get up there. Once at the top, there's a nice overlook, with a big Christian church. There were tons of Indians on holiday, complete with cotton candy, looky-lous, and drunken boys. But, on the whole, mostly harmless fun. Heather and I picked up some nice shawls and a few woolen caps that are typical of HP. I must pause here to admit that I have a reputation in India that has grown to somewhat terrifying degrees. We were walking along Mall Rd., and this guy that looks somewhat familiar approaches Devindar and says that he knows me. I do a double-take and realize that it's the cousin of my shawl guy at Dilli Haat, Mansoor. Super small world. And of course. we go to his stall and buy a couple of things. Now, if this were the first time this had happened, I wouldn't be so sheepish, but it's not. Last time I was at Dilli Haat, I was helping one of our visitors negotiate for some traditional paintings only to realize that the guy was the same vendor that Shannon, Lauren and I met in Udaipur. And he recognized me! Good gawd. 'She Who Shops A Lot' for sure.

Tuckered out from our long day bumming around Shimla (I know, we're hopeless wusses), Heather and I headed home and went early to bed. Our Sunday was pretty great, to a point at least. We got up, went to the gym, swam in the lovely Oberoi indoor pool, and then headed back for more lovely breakfast, which we then topped off with massages. Mmm, mmm, good. Relaxed, replete, and smelling pretty good, we packed up our things and headed back to Delhi with Devindar, and proceeded to re-knot most of the muscles that had been unwound during the massage. Let's just say that HP's winding roads are better cloaked in darkness. The up-close-and-personal viewpoint that we got on the way downhill in bright daylight didn't do much for our charming natures. Even I, with unshakable faith in Devindar, was a little spooked by the process of wending our way around all of those curves. It goes something like this: every third car is a large Punjabi truck, and we simply can't wait behind one of those, can we? So, as you approach the hairpin turn, you honk, pull alongside the truck, and then drive directly in front of it at the apex of the curve. Needless to say, if anyone is coming the other way and doesn't harken to the honking, you're toast. With each iteration of this process, Heather is increasingly displeased. I am holding on for dear life and enjoying the fresh air. Mostly. But, you can't fault the results. After watching Devindar (and all the other cars and buses on the road) repeat this process over 100 times, we sailed unscathed into Kalka and were back on flat land. The rest of our trip was fairly uneventful. We stopped for dinner at Gulshan dhaba, which is a super-famous roadside stand/restaurant, and had dal makhni, naan, and palak paneer. Heather got put off of her food by the super-chauvanist stare fest emanating our way from the table behind us, so our visit was short and to the point. We were quickly back in the saddle again and headed for the NCR (National Capitol Region), and another destination crossed off of my list. Shimla is like a little bit of northern CA hidden away in India. If I get homesick, you might just find me making the climb again to get a crisp apple and feel the cool fog curl itself around me.

Jaipur Road Trip

In June, right before coming home for 4th of July and our management conference, I went to Jaipur for the third time with Austin, Mollie, Louise, and Cindy who was visiting from Mountain View. After driving down from Gurgaon on a Friday night, we landed, softly, at Le Meridien Jaipur. I swear their web site outright lies and says they're in downtown Jaipur, which is not the case. However, thanks to Austin's Starwood membership, we were quickly ensconced in two of the plushest suites I've seen in India. Since we had Devindar with us, being outside of town wasn't too big of a deal either, so it all worked out in the end.

On Saturday morning, we rolled out of bed around nine, had our breakfast and headed for Amer. I had been there before, in February, with Heba, Heather, and Pallavi, but this time we were more at our leisure with the whole weekend in front of us. I discovered that there was a fort that we'd completely missed the first time - Naigargh Fort, which was beautiful. Amer Palace and Jaigargh Fort were beautiful, as they were the first time. Austin, Mollie and Louise insisted on going up on the battlements at Jaigargh Fort and copying the pose that I used in my photo for our web site at work. It looks pretty funny now that it's uploaded, especially because Austin reports to me and his picture and mine show up on the same pages. After puttering around Amer most of the day with our guide, Ragu, we made the obligatory stop at one of the tourist markets that is wildly overpriced. We made a quick trip of it, but it was cool to see them making the Jaipuri woodblock prints, and hand knotting silk and wool carpets. We made a quick pit stop at Le Meridien and then headed for downtown Jaipur to do some shopping at the main bazaar. I was on a mission to get a Rajasthani tie-dye saree, and although Mollie and I waded through a sea of beautiful silk, I didn't quite find the right one, at the right price. I did get some lovely hand-worked silver earrings, which Devindar was sure weren't real, but I have which I have on good authority ARE real - I'll let you all be the judge when I get home. Anyway, few people have the shopping stamina that I have, so we were fairly quickly on our way to Choki Dhani for dinner. Choki Dhani was a bit nuts. I guess the good news is that it was mostly Indians in this mock Rajasthani village, but with the liberal interpretation of standing in line, the somewhat muddy grounds, and the sheer number of people, it was pretty chaotic. The few other Westerners that were there were escorted around looking waif-like. After having a traditional meal, which we ate entirely with our hands, we went to get mendhi done. By this time we were hot and fairly well tuckered out, so we headed back to the hotel and crashed for the night.

On Sunday, we decided to see downtown Jaipur. Since I had been to the City Palace before, Devindar dropped me off to do some shopping while the other folks headed off to sightsee. I bought a bunch of Rajasthani parasols for the Montgomery girls and me. It was great fun picking them out from the bundles and bundles in the shop. At one point, I had a whole room full of vibrant parasols spread out at my feet. So fun. Devindar helped me negotiate, so I got a good deal too - what a team! After our shoppping, we picked up the other four and headed to the Gaitore Cenotaphs to do our last bit of siteseeing. The cenotaphs are where Jaipur's rulers were cremated in the last two centuries. The site itself is set outside of the city on the way to Amer. All of the structures are elaborately carved out of white marble and quite beautiful. The overall effect is pristine, but Devindar and Ragu told us that it's traditional for Hindus to bathe after going to such a place, literally to wash the death and bad karma from their bodies. From my perspective, it seems a lovely and quiet place of remembrance. After Gaitore, we set off for Niro's to have a late lunch and gird our loins for the trip back to Delhi.

And then the real adventure began....

So, after dinner, we drove through Jaipur to drop Mollie off at the airport so that she can fly to Hyderabad and then we headed back towards Amer to catch the Jaipur-Delhi highway. We got about 10 minutes away from the airport before Mollie finally reaches Devindar on his phone (Austin's was on silent - nice) and tells us that her flight has been canceled. We do a 180 and pick her up to bring her back to Delhi with us. We're on the road again and then outside of Amer, I suddenly hear a very quiet "oh shit" from Devindar, and the car rolls to a stop. Austin, ever the intrepid photographer, caught them moment on video:

Luckily, Devindar was able to call in a favor from our guide, Ragu, and he showed up within a half hour in a Jeep, and proceeded to tow us by wiring the bumpers of the two cars together. If it sounds flimsy, it was. All of us, save Devindar, hopped into the Jeep, and watched Devindar do the cab-driver equivalent of the 'walk of shame,' steering and breaking the Innova as it was being towed. Now, I'm not sure exactly why this was a better option than having Ragu bring a container of gas, but beggars can't be choosers, I suppose. Whooeee, did we give Devindar a lot of crap - all the way home and then some. But the fun wasn't over, no sireee Bob. We got back on the road again, only to find ourselves at the back of a huge traffic jam as we neared the boarder. Devindar assessed the line of trucks and cars as a minimum 45 minute or more wait and, as we approached a break in the median, threw on his hazards and pulled onto the wrong side of the freeway. As I was sitting in the front passenger seat, I got a birdseye view of the action and very quickly began to see my life flash before me in the headlights of the oncoming cars. The crazy thing it, this apparently didn't phase oncoming traffic at all. They did honk at us, but generally, everyone stayed well out of our way for the 1-2 kilometers we traveled until we could pull back in line ahead of the jam. I sincerely hope that Devindar never, ever does that again, but I can't fault the effectiveness of the methodology. This one goes down in the books as the road trip to end all road trips. I think I'm ok for a while without another dose.

Things I brought back from home

There are those that say we are what we eat. Some say you can know a person by their iPod playlists. You could make an argument that what I buy is fairly revelatory of who I am. So, make what you will of this short, but oh-so-sweet list. In no particular order:

• Kraft Mac N' Cheese
• Herdez Tomatillo Salsa
  
• Reduced Fat Skippy
• Mariage Freres tea
• Pesto sauce
• 4 Seed Compagnon from Kelly's French Bakery
  
• Couscous
• Hot Tamales
• Ghirardelli dark chocolates
• Marini's salt water taffy
  
• Tide with color-safe bleach
• Dryer sheets
• Hand sanitizer
• Cotton t-shirts and skirts
• Clippy hangers
  
• My iPod mini, completing my iPod family in India (iPhone, Shuffle, Mini, and me)
  
• Shoes and iPod speakers for Austin
• Gifts for my driver's family & candy for the guys at the house
  

Toes South Down the Ganges

Fresh off of the Tin Amigos tour, I decided to hit the road with my roommates. With the hot weather in full swing, we headed for Rishikesh to do some white water rafting at the gateway of the Himalayas, and perhaps to experience yoga at one of the bjillion ashrams lining the Ganges. Louise, Austin, Heather, Elliot (a short-term visitor from Mountain View), and I headed out on Friday afternoon with Amit, Heather's driver. Train is probably the best way to get to Rishikesh, but with five of us and erratic train timings, we decided to go for the comfort of a mini-van and a driver we knew. It took us about 7 hours, but we arrived on Friday night to clear, cool air, a starry sky, and a rustic, but nice place to stay - the Ganga Beach Resort. After announcing our intention to go rafting in the morning (which the staff promised we could), we hit the sack.

The next morning, we slept in and rolled out in time to make breakfast. When we went up to the front desk to formalize our rafting arrangements, things started to get a little dodgy. What had been sure-fire rafting reservations became vague possibilities. Then we started a three way dance of disaster between me, the booking agent in Delhi (who we also asked to reserve the raft), and the hotel. In the end, we got it settled - 2pm at the entrance of the hotel, a raft and van would be waiting. We headed into Rishikesh to check out a few of the sights and get oriented, before meeting our guide for the afternoon rafting trip.

When 2pm rolled around, we headed back to the hotel, but no raft awaited. We hung out for 20 minutes or so, and decided that maybe we needed to check a little further down the road. What ensued was the wildest goose chase I have ever been on. With cell phone connectivity only possible every 5 km or so, we proceeded down the road based on instructions from our ever-helpful hotel staff. We end up going to the farthest town on the rafting route, trying to contact the person that the hotel referred us to, getting nowhere, of course. Then, we get told to back-track to the next-to-last launch location, where a 'yellow raft' will be waiting for us. We careen madly down the road to the aforementioned launching spot, only to be told that our boat left just 5 minutes before we got there. At this point, it's close to 4pm - our whole day has been shot, waiting for rafting, driving toward rafting, and then yup, you got it - literally 'missing the boat.' Needless to say, we're p-i-s-s-e-d. India 2, Expats 0.

After drowning our woes in the hotel pool, which was pretty green, but had plenty of chlorine to compensate, we headed into Rishikesh to try and find a good place for dinner. We chose Chotiwala, which is pretty famous and supposedly a good bet for Indian food. For those of us who stuck to the house specialties, we did fairly well. For Elliot and Louise, who are not lovers of Indian food, the Continental choices were less fortunate. In fact, Elliot's macaroni and cheese and Louise's cheese and onion mashed potatoes were so indistinguishable that the waiter couldn't even tell them apart to deliver them correctly. Nonetheless, we rebounded with aplomb, and even found another rafting company to take us river-rafting the following morning.

On Sunday, we got up bright and early and headed (along with two random Indian guys and our guide) to the Marine Drive launch site. It took some time to get the boat blown up, gear on and safety briefing complete, but in fairly short order, we were drifting down the river, enjoying the sunshine. The rapids on the river have names like "Roller Coaster" and live up to their billing. Some of the waves we went through were well over our heads and doused everyone in the boat. But, our guide seemed more than capable and, while we got some solid thrills, we never came close to flipping the boat, which was definitely a possibility. When we came through the last large rapid, the river widened and slowed to a meandering pace. Our guide encouraged us to roll out of the boat and float downriver in our life vests. The water was cool, and that close to the Himalayas, fairly clean. I laid back and let the Ganges carry me along - not a bad way to spend a Sunday morning at all. At the last bend in the river before you reach Rishikesh, a rock promontory overhangs a deep pool. Every boat on the river was pulled up so that eager rafters could take the plunge. It was scarier than it looked, but lots of fun; the life vests make you pop up like an oversized cork, but even still, it seems like it takes forever to get back to the surface. Back in the boat again, we wended our way around the last few bends of the river and were deposited, soaking wet, on the steps below our hotel. We made our soggy way upstairs to get cleaned up and check out. India 2, Expats 1 - rafting mission accomplished.

As a parting shot, we decided to have lunch in Rishikesh before heading back to Delhi. At the base of one of the footbridges which cross the Ganges, we found a little grass shack with a river view and... Mexican food! That's right folks, I ponied up to the table for a 'burroto' and my first taste of Mexican food in 5 months. And, to top it off, they served the best cold coffee (like a coffee milkshake) that I've had in India - mounds of icy, coffee-flavored loveliness, literally spilling over the edges of a chilled stein. Whooeeeee....was it good! Score one for the good guys - India 2, Expats 1, Lonely Planet 1 - for the Mexican food, and we'll call the weekend a success.

Tin Amigos - Ranthambore and Tigers!

The distance from Jaipur to Ranthambore isn't great, but it takes forever and a day to get there over some of the worst roads I've seen in India. You're lulled into complacency by the fact that most of the way there, the road is wide and well-paved. But then, you get to a point, literally a fork in the road, where things begin to deteriorate, rapidly. The last few kilometers to Ranthambore are pretty rough, I think because they are working on improving the road. We were driving on a bi-level gravel bed that will eventually be a road, along with every kind of traffic that you can imagine - water buffalo, camel carts, trucks, motorcycles, pedestrians, and then some.

Despite a loooong drive, we arrived safe and sound at Dev Vilas just in time for lunch. The hotel was a pleasant surprise. Located just outside of the park entrance, it provided great access to Ranthambore, and the rooms were some of the largest that I've stayed in, in India. Although the accommodations were simple, everything was very clean, the staff was nice and the food was good. They have a small, but nice, swimming pool, and there's even a resident elephant that was part of the owner's mother's dowry.

We kicked off our stay with an afternoon safari, and finally, yes finally, saw.....TIGERS! We were really lucky and got a good guide and a good draw for a zone within the park. As compared to Corbett, Ranthambore is smaller in acreage and more densely populated with wildlife. They've also created some man-made watering holes near the jeep tracks, so your chances of seeing the tigers are better. At first, we spotted two tigers at a distance in some brush. We watched them for a while, but when they didn't seem inclined to move out into the heat of the day, we continued on into the park. However, on the way back we passed through the same area and this time the tigers had moved to the watering hole and were much closer. The pair that we saw were a brother and sister, about two years old, so not mature, but still very big cats. We hung out for quite some time, just watching them bathe and play with one another. The tigers are graceful, in the manner of a highly-trained athlete or prize fighter, and they're fascinating to watch. It's as if my tabby cat, Teddy, just got blown up to jumbo size - you have this odd urge to pet them, because they seem just like big kittens, at the same time that you realize you're observing a finely honed killing machine. It's eerie, and it definitely makes you understand how those stupid people who get too close to the animals at the zoo, or in nature parks, end up in such predicaments.

We were pretty thrilled with our safari and made our way back to the hotel on a high. We were really lucky as well, for although it seemed like tiger sightings were there for the taking, it had actually been over three days since any of the guests at Dev Vilas had sighted a tiger. The staff looked absolutely relieved that we'd had success. We spent our evening with a swim and cocktails under the stars, and concluded it with a lovely dinner in the dining room. We hit the sack pretty early so that we could be up and at 'em bright and early for our 6am safari.

On day two, we didn't have as much luck - no Tigers. We explored a different zone of the park, high on a ridge overlooking the area we'd been through the prior day. It was beautiful, and we again saw lots of wildlife - parrots, spotted deer, peacocks, and a golden oriole. I enjoy the safaris, but when they're not fruitful, you get tired of just looking so hard. I almost didn't believe it when we did see tigers, since it was my 5th try or so. However, all of the eye strain was worth it in the end, and despite the fact that we didn't see tigers the second day, the trip was definitely a success - whew! I felt somewhat redeemed as a tour guide, given all of the issues we had with the first leg of the Tin Amigos extravaganza. After our safari, we got cleaned up and had lunch, and then headed back to Jaipur for dinner and some turbo sight-seeing at the City Palace. Shannon and Kevin were ready to hit the road, but Lauren and I still managed a speed round of shopping that yielded silk dupattas for me and Mom, and a silk bed cover set for Lauren. Devindar, prince among drivers, was helping us negotiate to get the best prices. The coverlet seller was driving a hard bargain, and Lauren wasn't sure if Devindar was making any headway, in his polite way, so she stepped in and offered a new price of 2200 Rs. Little did she know that Devindar had already locked in a price of 1800 Rs. Devindar kind of shook his head and got a good giggle out of it, but moral of the story is - let Devindar do his thing, no matter how antagonistic or unproductive the negotiations appear to be.

With our Rajasthani road trip coming to a close, we headed back to Delhi and the bubble of home. The next day, I went back to work and the Tin Amigos headed to Amritsar for night-viewing of the Golden Temple and the show at the Wagah Border. On Friday, Devindar took Kevin, the girls, and a shopping list and ran errands in Delhi all day. I joined them for one last Indian dinner at Balluchi, and the we were off to bed. Eight AM, the Tin Amigos depart Delhi, leaving an exhausted and very-happy me, and a just-plain-exhausted Devindar in their wake.

Three cheers for friends who'll travel halfway around the world to see you - huzzah, huzzah, huzzah!

3 Amigos - Ranthambore

Tin Amigos - Agra

After one night's sleep in my Gurgaon bubble, we were on the road again, bright and early. This time we headed south to Agra, then on to Jaipur and Ranthambore - a proper Rajasthani road trip, complete with a mini-van and my ever-patient driver, Devindar.

Our first stop of the trip was Agra, about four hours south of Delhi. Agra is a paradise of Mughal architecture. I had heard from friends that it wasn't a very pleasant city, but I found myself liking it. Surprisingly green, the streets are lined with trees, and though there's the normal chaos of any Indian city, it seems to essentially be a normal, mid-sized town. We started off at Sikandra, with Akbar's Tomb. I hadn't even heard of the tomb before, but I truly loved it, and though it may be sacrilege, I actually preferred Sikandra to the Taj. It was largely empty, save a few lovebirds hanging out in the arcades around the tomb, and the colors are the deep, rusty red that is so common in Mughali architecture, as well as creamy whites and bold blue and gold. It's just beautiful, and you can go down into the crypt to the grave site itself. When we were there, one of the attendants was chanting prayers to show off the booming acoustics of the room. It's amazing to think the monument itself is well over four hundred years old, and yet still enjoys significant numbers of visitors and a degree of deference that is often not shown to more modern heroes.

After Sikandra, we headed to the main event, the Taj Mahal. To try and minimize the impact of pollution on the Taj, no fuel vehicles are allowed within a certain radius of the gardens and buildings. What this boils down to is that you have to pay a ridiculous fee for an electric golf cart or a camel cart to take you the last 200 yards to the Taj. But, it's still peanuts in the grand scheme of things, so we quickly got over it. Having left Delhi at 6:30am, we arrived at the Taj in the heat of the day. Even still, it was chock-a-block with Indian tourists, and everyone clambering over one another to get the perfect picture. We joined in the melee and took our turn taking pictures. The Taj is lovely. It's somehow smaller than I expected, but every bit as beautiful as it is storied to be. I imagine that Shah Jahan envisioned it as a serene place, but that's not true in the peak of tourist hours. When I go back, I would either like to try to get one of the special full-moon tickets, or go at dawn or dusk, when the air is cooler and the gardens more empty. After wandering through the gardens and inside the mausoleum with our guide, we were pretty beat. The Indian sun drains you quickly, and we very soon sought the shade of one of the arcades surrounding the garden, and admired the Taj again from afar.

Post-Taj, our guide took us to a shop where he claimed the very descendants of those who built the Taj continue to work. We saw a nice demonstration of how piedra dura, the precious stone-inlaid marble in the Taj, is made and then were expected to buy samples at truly exorbidant prices. I quickly made my escape, grateful for the edification, and for escapting with my wallet. We headed out of Agra on the Agra-Jaipur road, with Jaipur as our final destination for the evening. Along the way, we stopped briefly at Fatehpur Sikri, a city that the Mughals built and then abandoned after just 13 years. The city still stands, almost in its entirety, and the mosque is an active place of worship for both tourist and locals. Although it's beautiful, especially in the late evening light, there are more vendors, touts, and hangers-on per square inch in Fatehpur Sikri than anywhere else I've been in India. And, they do not leave you alone. Needless to say, it got old really fast. I was glad that we stopped, but even more glad to get on the road again.

Another four or five hours and we were safely ensconced in the Hotel Narain Niwas Palace in Jaipur. A former maharajah's palace, now turned Heritage Hotel, the Narain Niwas occupies a whole city block in downtown Jaipur. Though it could have been cheaper, and perhaps more posh, I really loved the garden restaurant, the quaint buildings, and the very accommodating staff. We had a good night's rest, and an ample breakfast before heading out to Ranthambore, by way of Lassiwalla, best lassi shop in Jaipur.

Tin Amigos - Udaipur

Udaipur is built on the banks of several lakes in northeastern Rajasthan, just a short hop from Delhi. Tiny streets wind through crumbling Rajput palaces down to the lakeshore, and the town is chock-a-block with artists' galleries. Thanks to the many expats who went before me, I had a great recommendation for a place to stay. Now, bear in mind that Udaipur is home to what is ostensibly the best hotel in the world, the Oberoi Udaivilas. But, I resisted temptation and was super-glad that I did. Instead, we stayed at the much smaller and wonderfully charming Udai Kothi. This was one of my best hotel experiences in India - the staff are great, the restaurant has really good food, the view is amazing, and the price is right.

We rolled into town on Friday afternoon and proceeded to have a very low-key two days. Perhaps the most pleasant surprise was how great the rooftop restaurant was at Udai Kothi. After getting settled, we wandered upstairs to find a charming oasis right on the roof of our hotel, complete with a beautiful view of Lake Pichola and sittar players. The ambiance alone would have made it a fantastic find, but in addition, the Udai Kothi is home to the best ever cheese naan - I still haven't found it's equal, and trust me, I've been looking hard since we left - and really good Butter Chicken. So yummy!

We started our second day observing the troupe of monkeys that were cavorting through the garden of the hotel. Unfortunately, Delhi Belly claimed its second victim of the trip, and Lauren stayed in bed for the day. Shannon, Kevin and I made our way to the City Palace and spent a few hours going through the buildings, and enjoying the view over the city. On the way back to our hotel, we went through a few of the art galleries and Shannon and I negotiated for a traditional painting that depicts Lake Pichola and the Lake Palace. I'm pretty sure I got taken for a ride in terms of the price, but oh well. Converted to USD, it was still really affordable, and much as I hated to admit it, I did pick out one that was clearly better quality. That evening, we made a feeble run at creativity and ended up going right back to our lovely rooftop. This time, we got smart and reserved the cupola table with a mirrored ceiling which overlooks the lake. You could not imagine a more idyllic or romantic spot to have dinner. Just beautiful.

On our last morning in Udaipur, we had a nice breakfast at the hotel and then grabbed our cab to the airport. We budgeted time to visit the Monsoon Palace, Sajjangarh, which sits on a mountain overlooking Udaipur. When we got there, the palace was completely empty, so we had a leisurely stroll around the building and grounds, and watched a family of monkeys bask in the sun by a well. We wound our way down the mountain with plenty of time to spare and made a stop at a craft village called Shilpgram. The place was definitely touristy, but we had a nice guide who showed us buildings and handicrafts that were representative of Rajasthani tribal culture. And, Lauren got to pet a camel (and didn't get spit on), so we were good to go. A quick jaunt to the airport and we were rapidly bumping our way through some turbulence on our way back to Delhi - phase one of the journey complete.

Tin Amigos - Mumbai!

Mumbai was a great place to recover from our crushed Kerala expectations. We flew "The Good Times" and arrived on a lovely Tuesday morning. After some cranky cabbie negotiations, we were soon our our way to the Taj Mahal Palace and Towers. I think I've been forever spoiled. When you start with one of the best hotels in town, how do you ever downgrade? Our rooms were on the 17th floor, overlooking the Gateway of India and the harbor - just beautiful.

We spent the afternoon wandering the Colaba Causeway and having a few beers and some snacks at Leopold's (Shantaram fans will recognize the famous bar from the novel). It's smaller than it seems in the book, but definitely a local expat hang-out and a great place to while away your afternoon. We even strolled through Sassoon docks where the fishing boats come in. This is high on my list of things that I would NOT have been doing without Kevin along, and it may have been the most odoriferous mile in Mumbai, but the waterfront was still pretty, with brightly colored boats and trucks pulling up with their loads of fish.

I have to pause here and say that, although this is probably not technically true, I felt as hot as I have ever been in my life in Mumbai. It's just steamy; you can't step outside without immediately feeling like a dim sum bun. We would practically dive through the revolving doors at the Taj each time we got back. Thankfully, the Taj has a great pool, so we were able to cool down every evening before tackling the trek to dinner. Our first night, we ate in the Taj at Wasabi by Morimoto, which is owned by Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto. The night we ate there, Chef Morimoto himself was in residence, supervising the making of our sushi. It's the first time that I've seen someone star-struck by a chef. We tried to get Kevin to ask for a photo, or "snap" as they say here, but our shy guy was having none of it.

Our second day in Mumbai was spent over breakfast buffet and on a ferry ride to Elephanta Island to see the cave temples. Being out on the water was a nice break from the closeness of the city. I think I lost half the water in my body on the way up to the cave temples, but they were beautiful (and cool) once we got there. It definitely whetted my appetite to go and see the cave temples at Ellora and Ajanta, which are UNESCO sites and supposedly phenomenal. By the time we got back to the Taj, we had our first travel casualty...Kevin got sick and was down for the count (about 24 hours). Do you still call it Delhi Belly in Mumbai? Shannon, Lauren and I entertained ourselves with dinner at Indigo in Colaba, and by a solid day of massages and sunning ourselves by the pool - life is rough all over.

We rounded out our Mumbai experience with dinner at Bademiya, a hoppin' street cafe in Colaba, and an evening of bootleg Bollywood in our hotel room. Little did I know that Shannon would sucker for the melodrama, action, and hot bods that is Bollywood - I've created an addict. With Kevin slowly rejoining the living, we packed up and headed for Udaipur, and the next leg of the adventure.

3 Amigos - Mumbai

The Tin Amigos

I've had my first visitors from home! Mad props to Kevin, Lauren and Shannon for trekking halfway around the world to see little ol' me. It was so great to have familiar faces around (and jokes, and harrassment). I took a week and a half off of work and we set out to see a fair chunk of India. This is the first of several installments of the Adventures of the Tin Amigos (3 amigos).

Kevin, Lauren and Shannon arrived on Sunday the 13th of April. Their first 48 hours in India were typical in that nothing happened exactly as it was planned to happen, and I had my first real face-to-face encounter with the vagaries of Indian travel. Their first day, we rented and rode an elephant, spent 5 hours at champagne brunch, made three trips to the airport to try and find their lost luggage, and went clothes (and bikini) shopping, in anticipation that their luggage wouldn't arrive (which it didn't).

The next morning, with four wardrobes cobbled together from my closet, the Janpath mini-market, and Ambiance Mall, we showed up at the New Delhi domestic terminal to catch our plane to Cochin for beach-going and houseboating. Here's something of the conversation I had as I tried to check us in for our flight:
Jet Airways dude: "Ma'am, you've missed your flight; it left two hours early..."
Me: "Umm....It's 6:30 am and no one notified us that the flight time changed...?"
Jet Airways dude: "Go see the woman at the first desk and she will assist you."
(I explain the situation to Jet Airways woman #1, she passes me to Jet Airways woman #2)
Jet Airways woman #2: "Ma'am, the Cochin airport has been closed and your flight has been cancelled."
Me: "Oh, ok. When will the airport re-open?" (I'm thinking 2-3 hours here)
Jet Airways woman #2: "Ma'am, it will be closed for at least 2 or 3 months."

Our first well-laid plan bites the dust - BIG time. No Kerala for the Tin Amigos. We retreated to the guesthouse to regroup and plan. After some discussion, we booked the best hotel in Mumbai and made a plane reservation on Kingfisher airlines (yes, it's a beer and an airline - 'Flying the Good times') to go a day early, extending our stay to three nights. We then headed off to sightsee in Delhi - Humayun's tomb, Qutub Minar, a little shopping at Dilli Haat and Punjabi By Nature for dinner. Kevin and Lauren fell asleep sitting up as we drive home from dinner - T-r-o-o-p-e-r-s. The next day, Tuesday, we hop a mid-morning flight to Mumbai without incident, and without Tin Amigos' luggage - Yay Kingfisher! We love the Good Times! Boo British Airways baggage handling and American Airlines flight delays. And, yes Mom, I really do have enough clothes for four people.

Ending Radio Silence

So, if you read my blog semi-frequently, you've probably been wondering if I fell off of the face of the earth, or finally met my maker in an autorickshaw, or went AWOL somewhere deep in the Indian hinterland. None of these in fact occurred, but my best creative efforts have been a bit stunted by about five rounds of Delhi Belly. The only blog titles I could think of ran along the lines of, "Sick and Tired, of Being Sick and Tired," and who wants to read that? But, I'm getting back on the blogging bandwagon, and for those of you who like my ramblings, more content is coming soon to a theater near you. In short, in the past 6-8 weeks, I've:

• earned myself the nickname "Petri" and developed an intimate understanding of the Indian antibiotic spectrum
  
• explored three new cities (Mumbai, Udaipur, and Agra) and miles of countryside in between - I love a Rajasthani road trip!
• hosted three friends from the US for a two-week, whirlwind tour of India
• seen TIGERS!
• had at least 3 boozy brunches
• ridden an elephant (again)
• bought enough kurti and chapals (sandals) to open my own store (as per our house staff - "Dad, did you tip them off - are they going to start calling me 'Imelda' too?...")
• ridden the Delhi Metro - the most fun a girl can have for 6 rupees
• and much, much more...

And so, I promise to get busy blogging very soon, and as you can see from the above, there's lots to talk about!

Go, Go, Goa!

Being this far from home, one has a tendency to cleave to one's countrymen. So, when Geoff, one of the ex-pats from Hyderabad put out an invitation to go to Goa for the weekend, quite a troupe was rallied. I spend the last 10 days working from our office in Hyderabad, which put me even closer to Goa, so I decided to go along for the ride.

We flew to Goa on Friday night, headed for the town of Anjuna. From the airport, Anjuna is about an hour's drive outside of town, along the coast. Even the drive itself is beautiful. Stark white churches, remnants of the Portuguese influence in the area, stand out against the dark green of palm trees. The weather and flora are noticeably more tropical - there are plumeria trees, hibiscus bushes, and coconut palms. We arrived in Anjuna just past sunset and headed into town for dinner at the Oasis German bakery and cafe. In the end, there was a crew of about eleven of us for the weekend, with nothing on our agenda but beach, sun, sand, and having a good time.

On Saturday, we rented scooters and headed down to Anjuna beach for the day. The beach is a long strand of sand, cut into crescents by black rocks and wave breaks. At the edge of the sand, one little grass shack after another offers snacks, drinks, or bungalows for weary beach goers. We ambled our way to the end of the beach and parked ourselves in front of the "Happy Hours." Ronnie, Kelsey, Scott, and Geoff quickly joined up with some local kids playing soccer on the beach. Heather let herself be convinced to get a massage on the beach, and me, I sipped my fresh coconut juice and delved into Passage to India.

We stayed on the beach until sunset, enjoying the warm water and sunshine and then headed back to our hotel to get cleaned up. Heather and I walked to Ingo's Saturday Night Market. Getting there was a little scary - the roads are d-a-r-k in Goa. But, we arrived safely and without too many detours. In general, Goa is chock-a-block with Westerners, and Ingo's is a mecca for that crowd. There are food stalls for French, Italian, German, and Indian food, live music and tons of great stuff to buy. Heather had an avocado sandwich that mysteriously didn't have any avocados. I had a thin crust cheese pizza which was fantastic. Mmm mmm good. The price of goods, unfortunately, is also toward the tourist palate - definitely not local rates. However, there was still good stuff to be had and I was just glad that I now know the difference between a good price and a bad one. Heather and I bought some cleverly-designed backpacks from an Australian woman, I got a pair of gold yak-leather flip flops, and three necklaces made of sunset-colored chunky glass beads. Heather bought some fun skirts and a very cool pair of sandals. Replete with shopping satisfaction, we headed back to the hotel to rinse off and steam in our room. A very good day.

On Sunday morning, we were on Heather time and consequently got up early. It was beautiful out, so we headed back to Oasis for a breakfast of cheese omelettes and banana lassi, and then tooled around Anjuna and Mapusa on our scooter. Mad props to Ms. Heather for taking on the driver's role. I decided to stick to back-of-the-scooter driving. Goa traffic is awesome - we came around a bend on the scooter to find ourselves dodging about seven Yaks of varying sizes - Mooove over!

After our scooter tour, we met up with the entire crew back at Anjuna beach as they finished a late breakfast. We staked out a few beach umbrellas and settled down to enjoy our last few hours in Goa. Unlike the previous day, we had lots of company. There were quite a few little girls selling jewelry, offering to do mehndi, and generally wanting to chat with the foreigners. We succumbed to the offer of mehndi. The guys started it, oddly enough, with ethnic arm bands, and a huge dragon. Several of us girls were quick to follow with more traditional floral designs on our hands. The mehndi in Goa is black in color, whereas traditional mehndi is done with the reddish natural henna. Before I leave India, I'd like to try getting proper mehndi, but this was a great way to spend an afternoon on the beach.

Tanned and tired, we piled into a jeep for the ride back to the airport. Heather and Scott headed out to Delhi, and I went back to Hyderabad with the group from there. Goa was great fun - I think it will very shortly be unbearably hot, but we really enjoyed the beach and having a lazy weekend.