The End… Or Is It Only the Beginning

Bali, Hoi An, Jodhpur…Naknek?

Eh, it just doesn’t quite roll off the tongue like the others. Or have that same romanticism about it. But am I excited about another summer in Naknek?

I could some it up with the thought I had when I landed in San Francisco exactly one month ago:

“America… F*** Yeah!”

Is it really over? After years of dreaming, a year of planning and sixth months of doing, my trip around the world is finally over. And it feels like it never really happened.

The countdown to London 2012 is on. The countdown to my trip is over.

32,461 miles, 23 flights, 15 countries and nearly a year has passed and now I have truly come full circle. Back to where it all started, this Year of Rosie where I said screw it and decided to do all the things I’ve always talked about doing.

But before I head back up to the wacky world of salmon, I’ve had a month to reflect on what just happened over the last six months. What the hell did happen? I mean, I can barely remember it. Sometimes it all feels like a dream, just a big long blur of people and food and bus trips.

This is what makes traveling so addicting. You are on such a constant high when you’re on a trip. Sights, sounds, smells that make a place special. You inhale and soak them in and try to remember each moment. But then the second you leave that place and the sights and sounds and smells are gone, you can’t really remember exactly what it was like. Nothing can re-create that feeling, no matter how many photos you take or CDs of the local music you buy. You will never be able to take yourself back there unless you truly go back there. Which is why travelers keep going back. And back. And back.

My adorable Nana in Wales

I understand now what addiction to drugs must be like. Always trying to re-capture that feeling, and never being quite satisfied until you’re on that high again. I experienced a little bit of a let-down when I landed in California when it hit me that it was all over.

Even so closely removed from my trip as one day, I felt this emptiness and sadness and disappointment. A feeling of, that was it? It’s all over? All that planning and dreaming and all the money and effort… it’s just over just like that?

My trip was so stress free, so drama free that it seemed like it was too easy. Yes, I got bit by a dog and that was scary. Yes, I got violently ill in Thailand, but I kind of expected it. I never felt threatened, never felt unsafe, never lost anything or had anything stolen, never missed a connection, never had my bags not show up at baggage claim despite 23 total flights. My karma was so good, my luck so perfect, my timing and decision-making always right. I almost feel scared to ever travel again for fear of it all coming back around to bite me in the ass (which is exactly where those dogs could have bit me if my luck had been worse.

A beautiful spring day in London

I will pat myself on the back a tiny, tiny bit for being very prepared for my trip. I researched the crap out of this type of travel and about the places I was going to. But even for being a somewhat experienced traveler, I had never done a trip like this and had never been to any of these places and am an admittedly bad planner. I like to let things happen and leave some room open for changes of plans.

So for these reasons I can’t give myself all the credit. I felt the entire trip that I was being watched over and protected. From the St. Christopher necklace my friend Meredith gave me, to my feeling of connection with Vishnu, Buddha, Allah and every other God I came across, there seemed to be something or someone guiding me to the right people and the right places. From Trident Seafoods Greg in Bali, to Bong and Tang in Thailand to Marie in Vietnam and the California Crew of Jen, Megan, Nicole, Jake and Marcus in Udaipur, I was always put in the company of the most amazing people I could ever have asked to cross paths with as a solo traveler.

A last fabulous meal: tea and scones with clotted cream & jam in London

As for my own mental state, what I wanted to accomplish was to learn to slow down, appreciate everything more, find inner peace and calm. When I look back on my trip, I don’t remember any single feeling of stress. Sure, there were frustrations (namely in India with the staring and the begging and the nickel-and-diming) and there were moments of curiosity as to whether I was getting in a rickshaw with a genuinely nice person or a murderer. But stress? Nah. Never. Even the dog bite never felt like a catastrophy, just another typical travel obstacle you come to expect. It might be the beauty of traveling for so long. Miss a bus, miss a flight, big deal. It’s not like I was on a tight schedule and had to be back at work on Monday. I had the luxury of not worrying about much over the course of six months.

But there are the feelings you are not conscious of throughout a journey like this that do come to light when you are finally back home. You do have your guard up to an extent for a long period of time. You are always protecting yourself and your bags. You are always wary of whether you’re getting ripped off because you’re a foreigner.

Naknek doesn’t evoke the same sort of romanticism as, say, Bali or Istanbul. But I love it, nonetheless!

But the biggest feeling of all is just the release of adrenaline. I didn’t realize until I got home that you are truly on a six-month adrenaline rush where every single day is something new and exciting. Even the days when you do nothing – and there were plenty of days on my trip where I did nothing but read a book and chill out – you are still in traveler mode. You are still thinking ahead to the next place and your next exciting meal and you are still in foreign territory.

And then suddenly it just stops. And there’s a withdrawl. There is this sadness that it’s over and you can’t get it back. All those beautiful moments of traveler comeraderie, of connecting with a local in a foreign land of seeing some of the world’s most amazing sights are all behind you and you can’t ever get them back.

This trip gave me the courage to even ride a bike!!

But there’s something so great about coming home again.

When I landed in San Francisco, I was exhausted and relieved to have picked up my backpack from baggage claim knowing it had made it safely through the journey. I then lined up to get my passport checked, walked up to the nice man at security and handed him my passport.

He looked up at me and in the most sincere voice said “Welcome Home.” And I nearly got tears in my eyes. In fact, I have a little tear in my eye as I am typing this just thinking about it.

It was as if he knew what I’d just been through. It was so genuine and it was exactly what I needed to hear at that moment. I wanted to hug him and shout out GOD BLESS AMERICA!

You know, us Americans, we’re not so bad.

It only took 33 years, but I can ride a bike now.

Everyone that greeted me at the airport and over the next few days seemed so nice. We always joke about going overseas and pretending to be Canadian. But you know what, people love us. People’s faces light up when you tell them you’re American in these places. And American travelers were some of the nicest I met on my travels. We try hard, that’s for sure. I get the sense that we are more aware now of how we’re thought of around the world and that we want people to like us. And for the most part, people do.

And I like us, too. Especially the nice man at customs in San Francisco who made me feel so welcome and so happy to be home.

Since then it’s been a joy to catch up with so many people who I missed so much on my trip. It’s been so hard to put into words what the journey was like. Mostly it just felt like I’d seen people two weeks before not six months before.

It's people like Dayu that I'm going to miss

I can see differences in myself already. I’m much more patient, much more tolerant of little annoyances and much less likely to judge people right away. My palate has changed – I don’t crave sushi anymore – and I have less fear over taking on challenges (I finally learned to ride a bike two weeks ago…seriously). And I’m sure there are ways in which this trip has changed me that I won’t realize for months or years or maybe ever. But I know that I see the world through different eyes now. You can’t help it.

I’ve seen the way Indonesians smile through all the adversity of earthquakes, tsunamis and volcanic eruptions being a routine occurrence. I’ve felt the warm and welcoming vibe of the Vietnamese toward Americans despite the evils of our war with them. I’ve experienced one of the most crowded, foul-smelling and dirty landscapes on earth in India that still manages to inspire you and awe you by its beauty and vibrance. And I’ve been charmed by the hospitality and sweetness of the Turks with their sarcasm, their cheeky comments and their genuine friendliness.

People are good. Although not many are quite as good as Bong and Tang.

I think I probably came into this trip feeling that there were more bad people in this world than good but that’s completely changed. For the most part, people are good. And everyone on this earth wants the same thing, to find happiness. Whether they find it through religion, through food, through family, through love, we’re all basically after the same thing. All the people and places, the food I ate, the religions and histories I learned about, the sounds, the smells, they all gave me extreme happiness on a level I’ve never felt before.

After reading what I’ve just wrote and after skimming through the thousands of photos I took of the entire journey for the first time – with a little music from the Eat, Pray, Love soundtrack in the background, a book that inspired me before and during this trip in so many ways – it’s finally hit me what I’ve just been through. It’s easy over the course of six months to forget the little moments along the way that added up to one incredible journey, but looking back now on some of these moments – waiting out a rainstorm in Bali inside a temple with the monkeys, riding on the back of a motorbike through the pouring rain to Borobudur Temple, feeling the most relaxed I’ve ever felt after a meditation class in Thailand – when I really go back and think about these individual days and moments I can almost start to remember how I felt, how happy I was to be there and to be alive.

Great, great people.

You know how at the end of the World Series or the NCAA Basketball tournament they put the highlights together or roll the credits set to some emotional music in order to make you cry? Yeah, well that’s basically what I just did to myself and, yeah, I cried. And it was exactly what I needed to jolt me into reality about what just happened.

A lot of people never get to fulfill their dreams in life. I did. I feel so lucky to have experienced so many things and met so many people that will stick with me forever and that helped changed my life. I don’t know what the future holds for me but at this moment I don’t care because nothing will ever take away the joy I feel when I think back on this beautiful journey and the faces of the people who made it all possible, and that includes everyone from my family and friends who supported me along the way to the people in between that kept me safe and helped me realize what a truly wonderful world this is.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Gobble, Gobble: I Love Me Some Turkey

Alright, it is getting harder and harder for me to find the motivation to keep up with this blog (as evidenced by a full month going by since my last one) but it would do a disservice to Turkey if I did not get on here and at least try to explain how amazing that place is.

The Blue Mosque in Istanbul

I hadn’t planned on spending as much time as I did (two weeks) in Istanbul, in fact I originally wasn’t even sure I’d make it there at all. Originally scheduled to fly from India to Cairo and meet my friend Tegan there for a week in the Middle East, we smartly changed our plans after the uprising in Egypt and decided on Istanbul instead.

It’s a city that’s always been very high up on my list, but I had no idea how incredible it would be.

As has seemed to be the case throughout this entire trip, things ended up working out perfectly when Tegan scheduled her flight and I changed mine and we happened to arrive from opposite ends of the world within half an hour of each other. It was so good to see my travel buddy who I shamefully had not seen in almost four years.

Me and my travel buddy

We realized immediately that the universe keeps sending us to Eastern Europe for our get-togethers for some reason: Croatia, Hungary and now Turkey… along with a random side trip this time to Bulgaria. And it never lets us down.

Tegan has also been smart enough to join me on parts of my travels when I’ve utilized my Marriott points from my days with the PBA. This trip was no different as I took my points down to pretty much zero (the end of an era, for sure) with a stay at the Marriott Istanbul Hotel Asia. In fact, the staff was nice enough to point out to me, as we were checking in, that while I was holding a Marriott Gold Status card in my hand, I had recently been bumped down to “silver.” Thanks, I really needed that punch in the ovaries.

Fish sandwich maker

Thankfully, they were willing to overlook it and still allowed us “Executive Lounge” access, one of the top perks of Marriott Rewards. This led to us stuffing our faces every morning with delectable Turkish treats, me being most enthralled by the large chunks of feta and the double cream and sour cherry jam on croissants. I loved Turkey already.

The only negative to this hotel was that it was on another continent. Literally. Istanbul is the only city in the world (as is Turkey the only country in the world) that resides on two continents. We knew this going in and knew the hotel was on the Asia side, but we didn’t realize how deep into Asia it was.

We arrived early our first day and after checking in and me taking my first normal shower (i.e., scalding hot with lots of pressure) in a couple months, we then ventured out to find our way over to Europe. After two mini buses, several helpful Turks and a ferry ride that included an in-person miniature juice-maker infomercial, we finally made it to the beautiful heart of Istanbul with its cobbled streets and imposing mosques.

First of many Turkish coffees

We wandered around, found our bearings and ate an amazing fish sandwich before heading over to the Galata neighborhood where Tegan had scoped out a good wine bar. And this is where we immediately learned about the exceptional friendliness and hospitality of the Turks.

Tegan, being a wine consultant back home, hit it off with the sommelier, Ilhan, who would immediately become our first friend in Istanbul. When they started to close at 10 p.m., a couple of Istanbullu girls saw us checking out our map and wandered over to us to ask where we were from and where we were headed. Next thing we knew, they were whisking us off to the “Golden Mile” to check out the bar scene, buying us a big bag of Turkish Delight before leading us up a flight of stairs to the very cool Araf bar where we drank our first Turkish beers and danced to a great Turkish folk band.

With out new friend Ilhan at Sensus wine bar

An hour or so later, spent from our respective flights, Tegan and I convinced our new friends that we needed to get to back to the Asia side and while they were down to party longer (despite it being a Thursday and them having to work the next day) they managed to haggle with someone to take us over to the Asian side, where they also lived.

A 25-minute and 25-Turkish Lira semi-cab ride later (about half the price it would normally cost), we were dropped off at the Marriott and our friends were insisting on paying the total fare for the ride despite our attempts to chip in. And this would set the tone for the Turkish way of treating guests over the next week for us and the next two weeks for me.

Friendliness and hospitality are two of the three Turkish traits I enjoy most. The third would be sense of humor. These people are hilarious. There were two things I was burned out on after a month in India: aggressive touts and sexually-harassing men, but the Turks have such a charming and hilarious way of harassing you that you not only don’t mind it, you start to enjoy it. At least, we did.

Token shot of spices in the Spice Bazaar

Let’s start with the touting. They are creative, clever and funny. While walking through the Grand Bazaar, past literally thousands of stalls, a one-block sample size might go like this:

Store 1: “Let me help you buy something you don’t need!”

Store 2: “Were you looking for me?”

Store 3: “Hey, now it’s my turn”

Store 4: “Are you from China?”

Store 5: “Excuse me, this way… don’t break my heart!”

And my favorite…

Turkish Tout: “Can I help you find something?”

Tegan: “No, we’re just looking”

Turkish Tout: “Well I’m just selling”

Hilarious. They are very sarcastic people and you can tell they just want to make you laugh. It was very refreshing for me after India.

Now, on to the sexual harassment.

Kitty warming up in front of a light inside Aya Sofia

I won’t go into the details of exactly what was said to us by a man at a café who was working the crowd trying to get customers to stop in, but let’s just say that if he’d said those things to us in America, we’d have had him arrested. In Turkey, it was just down right hilarious. He basically used every dirty word and phrase he’d ever heard in English and just kept upping the stakes the harder we laughed. And we were pretty much pissing ourselves. Ask me in person for details if you’d like them.

Moving on.

Despite the bitter cold in Istanbul, Tegan and I had a great four days exploring the city and making new friends. We went back to hang out with Ilhan and his staff of the wine bar our second night, made more friends with the staff of a restaurant over a hookah our third night but were particularly charmed by the cute lady who worked at the Marriott and who was over-the-top excited about having two young female travelers to share tips about Istanbul with rather the usual boring businessmen she must have to deal with most of the time. She told us about a couple of funky little neighborhoods to explore, which turned out to be great, but we mostly enjoyed her excitement at sharing her knowledge every morning before heading out for our mini-bus/ferry adventure from Asia to Europe.

Istanbul skyline at night

As much fun as Tegan and I were having in Istanbul, we love to see a new country if there’s one close, so we found a cheap flight to nearby Sofia, Bulgaria and decided we may as well do a little side trip. As it would turn out, it took us even less time to love Bulgaria than it did Istanbul.

As soon as our little Pegasus Airlines plane touched down in Sofia, the entire plane broke out in a resounding round of applause. And it’s not like it was a bad flight, in fact it was perfectly smooth. It just seemed like everyone was generally excited to be touching down in Sofia. It was adorable.

It's hard not to love Bulgaria

We found out immediately that Bulgarians are pretty hilarious in their own right… so totally against the usual stereotype of Eastern Europeans. While they may not have been as funny as the Turks, they were pretty darn close, starting with the guy at the front desk of our great little hostel. We had initially planned on spending a day in Sofia and then taking a day trip to nearby Macedonia to get another notch in our country belts, but we knew immediately Bulgaria was a place we wanted to spend some quality time in.

Armed with our map and list of the 46 places to see in Sofia, we worked our way from 1-27 the first day, falling just short of our goal to see all 46 in one day. But what we did see was incredible, topped off by Nos. 24-27.

I didn’t know anything about Bulgaria before arriving in Sofia and what we found out is that it’s a place with a lot of history and a variety of religions in one very small place.

Incredible St. Alexander Nevsky church in Sofia

As sunlight was fading on this Saturday evening and our legs were getting weary, Tegan and I wandered into the St. George Rotunda, a tiny little church from the 8^th century in the middle of a courtyard surrounded by old buildings. We walked inside and were treated to the end of a beautiful little ceremony inside this church that couldn’t have fit more than 20-30 people in it.

We then continued the tour up to a Russian Orthodox church where we saw and even more beautiful and moving ceremony which made my jaw drop. I could have watched it all night, but we had one more church to see on this night, the tops of them all – the St. Alexander Nevsky church, one of the most incredible churches I have ever seen.

Russian orthodox church in Sofia

We were lucky enough to catch yet another mass taking place, this one even more incredible than the first two. An unbelievable choir, perched high up in the balcony, belted out the most beautiful sounds that filled this massive church while we watched Bulgarians paying respects to God. None of these churches had seats, not even this massive one, just wide open space and a pew where people pay their respects one at a time. It was incredibly moving and powerful and I felt so lucky to be able to witness it.

It was fitting after having been in countless Hindu and Buddhist temples and Muslim mosques over the last few months that I would round it out with some Christian and Catholic churches in this religious smorgasbord of a city. Just in this one day alone, we visited a mosque, a synagogue, a Catholic church, a Russian Orthodox church and we also saw a Romanian Orthodox Church. It was incredible to see all these different versions of worship in one place.

I had so many thoughts going through my head while we lingered in that final church, but the one that couldn’t escape me was that everywhere I have been on this trip, God, in some form or another, has always been present. From Christchurch to Bali, Chiang Mai to Kuala Lumpur from Varanasi to Sofia, it’s pretty hard to deny a god exists on some level after all this.

Tegan and I hit the slopes in Sofia

No matter what form of God you believe in – and trust me, I used to doubt whether I believed at all so I understand anyone who does – something is there. And there isn’t just one God. There are many forms of “god” and they’re all right. It’s not a matter of which one is right and which one is wrong. Either way, some sort of higher power is present wherever you go

The thing Tegan and I have in common is that neither of us were raised with religion so we are both open minded about it and therefore both appreciate and are in awe of every arm of religion. We were both speechless at the beauty of what we saw that night and felt very lucky to experience something so special.

The tiny 8th century St. George Rotunda church

Sofia continued to surprise us the next day. In our lack of preparation in heading to this place, we failed to realize until our funny friend at the Hostel Mostel informed us that there is a massive mountain that Sofia sits in the shadow of. And with the weather being “F***NG COLD!” as said hostel worker put it, we thought, why the hell not trudge up that mountain and see if skiing (for Tegan) and snowboarding (for me) was not maybe in our future. And it was.

If you had told me back in November when I was taking a surfing lesson in Bali that later on this trip I would be snowboarding, I would have laughed my ass right off. But, there we were, wearing our brand new Puma puffy coats, our gloves and hats purchased in Istanbul and Tegan in her hot ear muffs, heading up the funicular to the top of 7,000-foot Mt. Vitosha to spend a day on the slopes.

I had not snowboarded in about seven years so I was a little nervous, to say the least. In fact, I was very close to wimping out but thank god Tegan made the decision for me that I WAS going snowboard and I really had no choice. As we headed up the lift and we got higher and higher and the mountain looked steeper and steeper, I became more and more terrified as I tried to remember exactly how to do this. But once I finally got off the lift successfully, strapped on my board and made my way a little way down the hill without killing myself, it all came back to me and I remembered how much I absolutely love this crazy sport.

Back in Istanbul, some incredible steaming hot meat

The run was long and a little icy and fairly tough to navigate – we had our share of falls – so we only took two runs before retiring to the lodge and chowing down but it was an amazing day. Neither of us thought in a million years we’d be skiing/snowboarding on this trip and it was certainly a memorable day.

We finished our 1-46 tour of Sofia that night, then chilled out at our hostel before heading back to Istanbul the next morning.

Whirling dervishes

After some final sightseeing and of course some final kebabs, baklava and Turkish coffee, our time together sadly was over too quickly. But not before we cured our sore skiing/snowboarding muscles with our second visit to the incredible Turkish bath, where we were scrubbed clean and bubble-bathed by some big, fat Turkish women and then given an amazing massage. It was a perfect bookend to our trip, since we visited the bath our first and final nights together.

Since Tegan had an early wake-up call the next morning (5:30 shuttle) we decided to just stay up and enjoy some Turkish nightlife. We found a great little bar across the street from the hostel we had checked into, this time right in the heart of the city. We smoked some hookah, drank some beers and listened to some great Turkish music with some Spanish people and the hilarious staff who would later become my good buddies.

Hookah and chay. A perfect night cap in Istanbul

Back on my own the next morning, I had a decision to make about my next week. Stay in Turkey until heading to London as planned around March 17, or try and head somewhere halfway in between, like Rome or Paris.

While the prices of flights helped make this decision, it also kind of made itself. After hanging out for a couple more nights at the hostel, I was asked by the nice manager if I wouldn’t mind moving rooms. While I was more than happy to do this, deep down I was so annoyed that I had to move my bag ALL THE WAY DOWN THE HALLWAY. I think this pretty much summed it up that I was burned out on packing, unpacking and moving every few days and that it was probably a good idea to just stay in Istanbul another week and chill out.

Good call.

I could have easily spent a month in Istanbul and still not been ready to leave. What an amazing city. By the time the week was over, I felt like a local.

The Blue Mosque

Tegan and I joked how there are so many different little neighborhoods in Istanbul that we would look back at the previous couple days and think, wait, was that a different city?

I had my favorite neighborhoods, my favorite little cafés and my favorite restaurants. I ventured to some of the less-touristy areas and started to get at the heart of this amazing city and its wonderful people.

One such area I visited and, in particular, one restaurant I stumbled upon just happened to be a place my beloved Anthony Bourdain visited whilst in Istanbul and I didn’t even find out until after the fact. That actually kind of freaked me out. I think I’m on to his scent.

This restaurant happened to be in an area where most people who move to Istanbul from Eastern Turkey live. I saw a great little square under the old aqueduct on my way to the incredible Chora Church and wandered around, finding a little restaurant with a patio that caught my eye. Lots of locals were seated outside so I grabbed a seat and immediately realized that, just 10 minutes outside the city, there was very little English spoken.

Baby lambs were born to be in my belly

The nice man who came to my table looked at me and said “Turkish kebab?” and I said YES! And just minutes later he brought out what would turn out to be the most delicious thing I ate in Turkey and one of the top five things I ate on this whole trip: baby lamb kebab. Let’s just say I went out of my way again later that week to devour another.

While I finished my meal and washed it down with a chay, two guys seated behind me asked me where I was from and then asked if I wanted to join them. They looked nice enough so I pulled over a chair (well, they did, I sat in it) and we ended up having a really nice chat. They could not understand why I was in this neighborhood since they apparently never see tourists there so I explained to them that I had been there for quite some time. In the middle of another cup of chay and some great conversation – they filled me in on Turkey’s bid to become EU (they think they won’t get in because they’re a Muslim nation) and why Turks are so nice (they credit it to their Muslim faith), fittingly the call to prayer came over the speakers and they excused themselves. As they said, “God trumps everything, even nice conversation with tourists.”

And then, just to drive home the point of how nice Turks are, they insisted on paying my bill. God bless Turkey. (Or Allah Bless Turkey?)

I continued on and saw the beautiful Chora Church, a couple other mosques and took a long walk around the “real” Istanbul. I have to say, the first time I was in a Muslim nation on this trip (and in my life), I was a bit startled by the call to prayer and frankly a bit uneasy. As an American – and maybe just as a Westerner – I think we have an unfair misconception of Muslims because of some unfortunate extremists. And I could see this prejudice in some other people during my time in Turkey.

Blue Mosque... again

One night as I sipped a glass of wine while watching the sunset, some Germans  came in and sat down near me. When the call to prayer came over the speakers a few minutes later – and I was enjoying the soothing nature of it – one of the Germans yelled out to the waiter “What are they always shouting about?!” (Rather ironic, coming from a shouting German). I found myself immediately defending it, particularly since the waiter couldn’t understand what she was asking (or frankly what she was shouting about). It is a beautiful sound, especially when you know the meaning of it, and as the weeks went on, I found myself looking forward to the sound of the prayer throughout the day.

Jebus be watching you

I made some regular friends around my area… the incredibly nice man in the carpet shop with hats from sports teams all over the world in his window. They guys at the restaurant/bar across the street from my hotel, who taught me a dance to a little Kurdish song “Semmame” (please watch the video in this link, it sums up why I love Turks). And by the time I finally had to leave after two glorious weeks, I was on the verge of tears saying goodbye to all my friends along my little street.

My final morning I took a walk along the shops near the Blue Mosque and I was putting some lip balm on as I walked by a store with the shopkeeper standing outside and I absolutely knew what was coming…

“That is not necessary for you!”

I couldn’t help but laugh and as I walked down the street with a huge grin on my face, the next tout said

“What is it that makes you smile?”

“Turkish people!” I replied.

And indeed, they did make me smile throughout these two weeks.  And the thought of them and my wonderful time there always will.

Here’s a link to photos from me and Tegan’s week in Istanbul and Sofia

And a link to photos from my final week in Istanbul

The Blue City: Cure for the Blues

Okay, I thought I was just getting cranky and sick of traveling, but it turns out, Agra and Jaipur are just a pain in the ass.

As are Indian men.

The Taj lives up to the hype

Of course, the Taj Mahal is absolutely incredible, breath taking, awe-inspiring… you name it. It’s one of the things I most wanted to see in this world and it didn’t disappoint. It’s hard to believe it was built so many hundreds of years ago and yet still looks so perfect. It’s so much bigger in person, more delicate, more impressive than you can imagine. And it’s particularly touching when you realize this architectural marvel was built solely out of one man’s love for a woman and out of his heartbreak after her death. You stand there and hope that maybe someday —-

HELLO!! MADAME?! HELLOO???!!!

Ugh, shut the #^%$& up!

This would sum up my time in Agra and Jaipur.

There are more than 1 billion people in India and I think approximately 995,475,237 of them have stared at me and/or taken a photo of me over the last week.

For the entire six days I was in these two places, I found myself feeling a little, um, annoyed. Okay, a lot annoyed. Okay, I was pissed off. I understand that I may look like an alien to these people, and I expected some staring, some attention, some people wanting to take my photo. But this was a little excessive.

Even the kids in Agra are annoying. But they make for good photos

Agra is not the nicest place, to begin with. It’s a pretty gritty town which makes for an interesting contrast when you exit the quiet, peaceful palace of the Taj Mahal and are bombarded with touts and rickshaw drivers who don’t just yell out HELLO?! MADAME!! HELLO?! but they follow you, get right up in your face and persist whether you ignore them completely or say NO several times.

The Agra Fort and Taj Mahal were incredible, as were a couple smaller Mughal temples in the town, but they were really hard to enjoy with teenage boys following me around constantly, taking my photo and just generally harassing me. Even the kids in these places were hard to like, begging for money, chocolate, pens (?!) and not leaving you alone until you had to yell at them and literally shoo them away like flies.

Some colorful Indian ladies at the Taj

I thought maybe I was just in a bad mood, suffering from burnout or just being a wuss, so I gave myself a pep talk the morning I arose for sunrise at the Taj. You know it’s bad when you have to talk yourself into having a positive attitude about seeing one of the wonders of the world. And, again, the Taj didn’t let me down, but the overall experience didn’t feel like it should have.

Jaipur was a much nicer place overall than Agra, and had some beautiful sites – the Amber Fort, the Hawa Mahal and the Old City’s pink walls and buildings – but it was more of the same annoying pestering that I was just fed up with. People – specifically kids – want money for everything. You ask them which direction something is and they want money for pointing. It’s constant nickel-and-diming and it gets old after a while. I had talked to several different people since Varanasi who, when I told them my itinerary of Agra-Jaipur-Jodhpur-Udaipur for my final two weeks, each said “You will love Jodhpur and Udaipur” intentionally leaving out Agra and Jaipur. And now I see why.

I had a fantastic day of sightseeing my first day in Jaipur with a driver someone recommended in Agra. But even he started getting annoying by the end of the day, thinking we were on a date by the end of it. Really, do you put your arm around all the people you take on tours?! After politely declining his advancements, he then sulked the final hour of the tour and I was officially annoyed again.

Jaipur's Hawa Mahal

Needing to not see anyone or talk to anyone my final day in Jaipur, I decided to head to India’s most famous movie theatre to take in Patiala House, a dorky Bollywood movie I wanted to see since the preview ran before the first flick I saw back in Mumbai. Problem was, it was Sunday afternoon so there were literally hundreds of other people at the movie, all excited to stare at me and take pictures of me in the lobby while waiting to enter the theatre.

Jaipur's pink old city from Hawa Mahal

I could thankfully escape for an hour (before much of the same during intermission) and then another hour for the end and enjoyed the cheesy, but entertaining, movie which was more the singing-and-dancing variety than the last one I’d seen (though not nearly as good). Still, there was enough unintentional comedy to cheer me up, and the sweet couple sitting next to me did the same.

Still, on my walk back to the hotel and the next day at the train station, I couldn’t help but have this nagging feeling that something just wasn’t right. I didn’t like this bad vibe I was getting from India and that I was putting off at the same time. I wanted to think better of India and of this experience. I hoped Jodhpur and Udaipur would find a way to come through.

—

And my, how much things can change in one week.

Now I know that I wasn’t just in a bad mood those six days. This much was confirmed by the beautiful, relaxing, blue city of Jodhpur – ironically the perfect cure for the blues – the peaceful lakeside city of Udaipur and, more importantly, some confirmation of how annoying all this attention can be from three fellow California girls I met on the way to Udaipur.

Well, hello Jodhpur!

It took mere minutes of walking through Jodhpur’s calm, quiet (by comparison) and friendly narrow streets of the old blue town to restore my faith in India and humanity in general. It was such a relief to be able to walk around the crowded alleys and not be bothered at all. As people walked by me and said “Hello!” or “Namaste!” my first day, I kept waiting for the inevitable follow up question or comment or to actually be followed, but it never came. They just genuinely wanted to say hello and that was it. I knew I was going to love this place.

All I wanted from Jodhpur, after having my nerves frayed to the ends and being on the verge of wanting to scream at or punch somebody in Agra and Jaipur, was to just relax. Mission accomplished.

Though it didn’t happen without being tested, of course.

The Blue City from the fort

I took my first – and only – train journey in India from Jaipur to Jodhpur, a simple five-hour trip. Other than a two-hour delay, which allowed the men of India two more hours to stare at me and take my photo, it was a pretty seamless trip. I was in AC Two-Tier class, which features two levels of beds rather than seats, not necessary for my mid-day trip, but still nice as it gave me a chance to stretch out and relax and just stare out the window, with the added privacy of a curtain to cordon off any potential staring.

I gave myself another pep talk and told myself I absolutely had to have a good attitude for this final week in India in two places I felt would be good to me if I went in with the right frame of mind.

I arrived in Jodhpur and unfortunately my hotel, which previously said they could pick me up, now said they could not as I was two hours late and the driver was out with someone else. No biggie. I grabbed a rickshaw for a bumpy ride through the narrow old town streets which was reminiscent of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride at Disneyland.

Beautiful kids of Jodhpur

I then arrive at the Cosy Guesthouse, where I had made a reservation a week in advance, followed up with an email for confirmation twice and was ready to just dump my bag, take a shower and chill out. Problem was, since I was two hours late, they decided to give my room away. But, they did have space on the roof if I wanted it!!

I had read on the guest house’s website that they had tents or beds available on the roof for ridiculously cheap, but obviously I was more inclined to have an actual room. But at this point, with it pushing 8 p.m. I really didn’t have a choice.

The first option they showed me was laughable. About an 8-foot-by-10 foot strip of cement on the very top of the five-story building, where they said they’d drag up a mattress and a pillow. Uh, no thanks.

Then they showed me the level below which was still open air, but there were three make-shift beds with nice blankets, plush pillows and mosquito nets, topped off with a fantastic view of the city and the incredible Mehrangarh Fort. A couple of German men occupying two of the three beds? No problem, I’ll take it. It was only for one night.

While I didn’t have the greatest sleep of my life, it was such a neat experience to sleep on a roof and listen to the sounds of the city (mostly trains coming and going and dogs barking, but still). Waking up to the sunrise over the fort and seeing the breathtaking blue city before me was well worth the $1.75 I was paying for the spot (seriously, $1.75).

Not a bad room for $1.75

I headed down to the “roof top restaurant” just below the actual roof top I had slept on and had a big cup of chai and chilled out on the fabulous balcony overlooking the city. I finally had that feeling of relaxation I just recently had in Varanasi but had lost in Agra and Jaipur.

While the lovely staff here of young men prepared my new room, I headed into town to the post office to ship one final package of beautiful Indian goods home before coming back to find that I still had an incredible view to go along with a beautiful little room just above the restaurant.

Kids playing cricket in Jodhpur

I then ventured out into the old town bracing for the worst but I was immediately greeted with the warm faces and smiles of the Jodhpuri people. It felt so quiet and the people were so sweet. I felt a little pang in my heart every time an old woman or a young child or – gasp – a teenage boy would walk by and say “Namaste.” I wanted to hug each and every one of them.

I stumbled upon a couple markets and glanced in some shop windows and to my surprise, I was not only not pestered, I was virtually ignored. Shopkeepers not acknowledging me?! I felt almost slighted. But then I thanked god that not everyone in India is as aggressive and annoying as they are in Jaigra. They didn’t follow me, they didn’t grab me, they didn’t stare at me… ok, maybe a little of the latter, but it just felt different there. It didn’t feel at all threatening. I felt at ease and comfortable with these people. Maybe the most at ease I’ve felt in my three weeks in India. I could wander the beautiful blue alleys aimlessly without the fear of, well, anything. It was heaven. I was happy again and I knew it was because this place was just very welcoming.

And with blue being my favorite color, I shouldn’t have been surprised to fall in love with this city. It really is intensely blue, with the Cosy Guesthouse topping them all.

Cosy Guesthouse

The views from the roof there were about as good as they got in the city and with there actually not being a ton of sights to see, it was such a great relief to just chill out on the little cushions at the restaurant, drink chai, talk to fellow travelers and take a deep breath and be thankful that I could end my time in India on a high note. I do love the people of India (most of the time) and I didn’t want to leave here with a bad feeling about them or their country. The sweet people of Jodhpur, especially the staff at the Cosy Guesthouse (cosy, indeed!) more than restored my love for this place.

—

I expected my final few days in Udaipur to be very quiet and relaxing. Being in what’s called India’s most romantic city (I wouldn’t really call much of India “romantic” but, yeah, this place is), I figured I’d just hang out by the lake, get a massage, get some reading done and relax before my final month of this adventure.

Funny how a flat tire can change everything.

I boarded a bus at 7:30 a.m. for what was supposed to be a five-hour journey to Udaipur. I have had some pretty amazing luck with transportation on this trip, taking countless bus journeys and not once having the slightest issue. But on this day, it all caught up to me.

Thankfully, it turned out to be one of the best things that happened on this entire trip.

Shocking.

About an hour into the bumpy ride on the rickety old bus, there was a loud pop and I honestly was not the least bit surprised. After about 30 minutes of waiting around, it was decided that the tire was unfixable and we would have to wait for another bus. Not knowing how long this would take, I headed outside with Marcus from San Diego, who I’d met at the bus stop, and who ended up sitting at the front of the bus next to three girls who were also from California.

This was a strange turn of events. After meeting hardly any fellow Americans in my previous five months of travels, it was strange enough to have five of us in one bus going from Jodhpur to Udaipur, but for all of us to be from California? Definitely kismet.

I had to first apologize to the girl I had kind of snapped at earlier in the morning who was upset (understandably) at having to pay 10 rupees to store our backpacks on a seat on the bus. I made a comment that it was only 25 cents, but as soon as I said it, I felt bad for letting my early-morning bitchiness come through, so when the bus broke down I was happy for the opportunity to say sorry.

New friends and Uno!

Thankfully, she accepted and that was how I met Jen, along with her sister Megan and their friend Nikki, three of the neatest people I have ever met.

When the new bus arrived, well, it wasn’t exactly new. And it wasn’t exactly empty. Actually it was the opposite: about as rickety as the other bus and completely, stuffed-to-the-gills full. This was a sleeper bus so there were rows of seats as normal with sleeper chambers above. After shoving our bags (for free this time) into a dusty compartment under the bus, we squeezed our way on board and braced ourselves for five or six hours of standing, with the fear of Indian men having free reign to grope.

Instead, some nice old man abandoned his sleeper compartment, and next thing I knew, I was whisked away up into safety and privacy with my three new friends where we would spend the next, oh, 7-8 hours becoming fast friends.

We were obviously all anxious to vent our frustrations over Indian men, because over the first few hours we talked non-stop about the staring, the photo taking, the general uncomfortable feeling of being a woman in India. We swapped all our travel stories and while the ride was anything but comfortable (or without incident as we had to stop for another break down two hours outside Udaipur), it made for a very fast trip to connect so instantly with these cool chicks.

It was just so nice to meet other women who felt my pain as it is very hard to explain how aggravating the attention can be. Unless you have experienced the constant leering and pestering, you really cannot understand how exhausting, and violating, it can be. I feared that I was just being over-sensitive, but it was nice to get the confirmation that it is, in fact, creepy.

When we finally arrived in Udaipur, we joined up with Marcus and the California quintet then headed toward the hotel I had booked, which Jen had also booked for the following night when her fiancé would arrive. While Marcus ended up going with the hotel across the street, Jen stayed with me for the night and Megan and Niki stayed across the hall and we would all become one big happy family.

A beautiful day in Udaipur

Our group of five grew to six the next day when Jake arrived and for the next three days we had an absolute blast just chilling out in the beautiful, relaxing, and amazingly clean city of Udaipur. We joked that it didn’t at all feel like India, which was probably exactly why we all liked it.

I should point out that the three girls are also on a six-month journey like me, but they are only about two months in. All in their mid-20s, they also like me just quit their full-time jobs and decided to take the trip of a lifetime. They had spent about three weeks in Sri Lanka before coming to India and have a little more time there before heading to Nepal and then the Middle East for the rest of their journey. They are such hilarious, smart, fun girls to travel with and if I didn’t have things planned over the next couple months that I have to follow through on (and if I wasn’t running relatively low on money), I would honestly join them for the rest of their trip.

Megan trying to hide from Indian men

They are such great travelers, not afraid to split up at times during the day and do their own thing or to sit at the same table together and just read their respective books. They love to eat. They don’t like to party and drink a lot. They read the same books (Nikki and I were both reading Anna Karenina). They like to just sit around and play cards and laugh. It is really hard to find people who travel the same way you do, but we all meshed so well together – as did Marcus despite his being much older than us – that it was just such a special connection. The four days hanging out with them were definitely four of the best days of my trip and made my final four days in India very memorable.

Being around them definitely re-energized me and made me feel like, wait, could I keep doing this for a lot longer if I was with a group of people? I thought I had hit my wall and that maybe six months was enough for me, but maybe it’s just that six months alone is enough. I definitely haven’t felt “alone” for very long on this trip, maybe a couple weeks in Thailand on the beaches and then a week or so in India when I didn’t meet many people. I have met a lot of people along the way, and a handful of people I’ll always stay in touch with, but these four days definitely reminded me how much richer life is when you can share it with people you click with.

The Cali Crew waiting for the bus

We had a good balance of being touristy and being relaxed in our three full days together. We took a boat ride around the lake to the Jagmandir Palace the first day. We had a nice adventure the second day, taking the public bus three hours through little villages and windy mountain roads to the beautiful Jain temple at Ramakamur. This included an interesting journey back on the public bus, which was an hour and a half late and then overflowing when it did arrive. It was my first overflowing-Indian-bus experience and it didn’t disappoint in terms of “Welcome to India” value. I didn’t quite feel like it was the complete India experience until I’d been through both the flat tire and the overloaded bus experience. Check and check.

We got onto the bus and had to push our way through people to get a spot standing in the aisle. We then hung on to the rails for dear life as this packed bus struggled its way up this steep mountain pass, winding its way along the one-way road as we prayed it didn’t either roll backwards or flip over the cliff, especially the times we squeezed by oncoming buses and cars along sharp turns. After we finally made it over the pass, passengers finally started exiting and we slowly got to a more breathable amount of people until suddenly seats actually opened up and we made it safely, if not annoyed after one of us (Nikki) had to deal with a probably 12-year-old kid doing some not-so-subtle harassing of her with his wandering hands.

After we unwound with dinner and some hookah, we spent the next day – our final day together – doing some serious chilling out. We slept in, ate a nice breakfast, did some shopping then got massages before watching a little India-England World Cup cricket with the guys who worked out our great guest house, then enjoyed another nice dinner and some card games before all saying goodbye.

Udaipur at night

Marcus headed off on the night train to Jaipur, Jen, Megan, Nikki and Jake took the bus to Pushkar and I wandered around the streets alone again, doing some finishing touches on my India shopping and sipping a final cup of chai. It was strange being without the five of them as it seemed so natural, like we were all travelling together. I guess us Californians just have a special bond.

Thankfully, Jodhpur and Udaipur were the perfect ending to my time not just in India but also my solo time in the middle months of my six-month trip. I met some amazing people along the way but now I get to start seeing some amazing people that I’ve gone too long without seeing.

I’ll meet my friend Tegan in Istanbul and spend a couple weeks in Turkey before heading to England where I’ll see my good friend Steph in London and my cousin Sian in Leicester before seeing my lovely 91-year-old Nana in North Wales. And then it will be back home where I admit, I am very looking forward to seeing so many more familiar faces.

As I arrived at the Mumbai airport from Udaipur for a 10-hour wait before heading to Istanbul, I started feeling nostalgic about India. As much as this place can frustrate you to no end, there is a lot of beauty in not just the vibrant colors of the country but also in the sweet people who make up the majority of the population and get overshadowed by a handful of not-so-great people. The month went by so fast, but it was about all I could handle on my own. I came here as the ultimate challenge to myself and passed. As everything on this trip has been, it exceeded all my hopes and was even more beautiful and fulfilling than I dreamed it could be.

I made my way to the waiting area at the airport, but just before I got there I was stopped by a man who asked me to pay 60 rupees.

“For what?” I asked.

“For the waiting room.”

“I have to pay to wait for a flight?”

“Yes, more than five hours, you must pay.”

“Well, that’s just stupid.”

“Madame, it’s Mumbai.”

As I cracked a little smile, I looked at him and he looked at me and we both said…

“It’s India!”

Agra photos

Jaipur photos

Jodhpur photos

Udaipur photos

Varanasi – I Need a Thesaurus

I am running out of superlatives, running out of creative ways to say “this place is amazing/fantastic/magical” and running out of energy to put together complete and coherent sentences so let me just say that Varanasi, India, has to be up there among the most unique places – if not THE most unique – on earth. And I say this not just because I am prone to making absolute statements about everything, but truly, it is, as my friend Sonya put it (I’ll leave it to my friends to start describing these places for me): magically random.

Varanasi and Ganges view from my guest house

Varanasi is one of the oldest cities in the world and it is one of the holiest cities in the world. There is this incredibly eerie quiet to it, but there is also the constant distant sound of Hindu chanting, singing, praying that provides an incredible soundtrack to life there.

The people of Varanasi will all stop and talk to you about the culture and spirit of their city, how everything is God. Food is God. Money is God. They talk about how much they love their mothers and how important their family is and about good karma. Everyone will tell you these same things, from eight year old kids to 70 year old men. And it’s not just what they say, it’s how they say it with such peace and purity. And they will always greet you with a smile and a “namaste.”

I was picked up at the airport by a driver from my guesthouse and a man named Deep, who was the first person to give me the gospel of Varanasi. After 30 minutes of gushing about his hometown, Deep fell immediately into a deep sleep. A sign of what Varanasi can do to you.

Sunrise view from the guesthouse

We then arrived at the insanely crowded Old Town, more crowded than usual because it was Saturday and a Muslim festival was taking place. One of the great things about Varanasi is that while it’s largely a Hindu place (the lord Shiva apparently founded the city over 5,000 years ago) there are also large pockets of Muslims, Christians, Buddhists (it was founded here), Sikhs, Jains, the list goes on. It is just a place where you can come and worship and feel connected to god no matter what god it may be.

Since the taxi couldn’t get through the Old Town, Deep grabbed my backpack and we jumped in a cyclo rickshaw for a few minutes, then pushed our way through hundreds of people before heading down some narrow alleys that don’t even fit rickshaws until we came to the beautiful Ganpati Guesthouse, one of my favorite stays on this trip.

Early morning religious ritual

My first order of business was to book a train in three days to Agra, a 12-hour overnight journey which I was a little nervous about. Little did I know I should have booked this about a month in advance. The trains were full and this sent me into a bit of a panic as my only options seemed to be a train to Delhi and a flight to Agra or a train that left from a station 30 km away and at 1 a.m. Not a good start to my stay here.

Fortunately fate intervened and it ended up being the best mistake I’ve made so far. After I relaxed for a couple hours on the balcony overlooking the Ganges, I met up with Deep who was going to show me around at sunset to watch the nightly Hindu ritual on the banks of the river.

Boats on the Ganges

First we had to pick up three Austrians who had also arrived that day and after telling Deep my issue with Agra, he had a solution. My Austrian buddies had assumed the same thing – that they could buy a train ticket a few days in advance – so they were resorting to hiring a car to drive them the 10 hours to Agra. Seeing as how they’d probably welcome a fourth person to cut the costs, I invited myself and needless to say they welcomed me to come along.

With that settled, we watched this incredible ceremony before calling it a night as we were planning on getting up at 6 a.m. for a sunrise boat trip down the Ganga.

This just says it all about Varanasi

Unfortunately a miscommunication put me in the wrong place the next morning, but Mistake No. 2 in Varanasi also panned out fairly well.

Instead of a boat ride, I took a long stroll down the Ganges along the ghats (sets of steps) and watched the incredible life of Varanasi go by. Men bathing in the river, little kids selling candles to set adrift in the river for good karma, bodies being burned, men brushing their teeth in the water next to the burning bodies, goats and cows, cricket games and of course religious rituals of all kinds. I walked up and down the ghats for about four hours and could honestly have done it all day. There is always something to see and something to take a photo of. The colors and the people are so vibrant. And with it being Sunday, there were more people and more rituals than usual.

Colorful sign on the ghats

The burning of bodies is something you obviously don’t see every day, but because it is such a common occurrence here – and such an important thing for Hindus – you don’t feel at all disturbed by it (or at least I didn’t). The body is brought down to the Ganges on a wooden stretcher (swathed in cloth) by two men who first douse the body with water from the river. It is then stacked on top of a pile of wood and lit on fire while family members watch. Burning usually takes 2-3 hours, after which the ashes are placed in the Ganges. This is such an important way for Hindus to move into the next world that many terminally ill people come from all over the country to die here.

Kids playing cricket

Interestingly, there are six types of beings that are not burned: children under the age of 10, women who were pregnant, holy men and animals (all considered pure) along with people bitten by cobras (they’re revered in Hindu religion) and lepers (it’s believed that being a leper is a result of bad karma from a previous life so they don’t get the privilege of the burning ceremony. Sad).

I will say that while the burning of bodies didn’t bother me, what really made me get a little catch in my throat was when I saw what they do end up doing with babies who have died. While on a sunset boat ride my final night, my boat driver said “look at that boat over there… baby.” At the bow of a row boat carrying about three people was indeed a tiny baby swaddled in cloth. The boat driver rowed to the middle of the river, calmly picked up the baby and tossed it into the river, then sat back down and rowed back to shore. It was done in such a methodical, nonchalant manner, which made it a little difficult to watch.

Sadhu

Moving on from that… near the end of my sunrise to now mid-morning walk, I ran into a little fella named Roy about the age of 12 who asked me where I was going. I told him I was looking for a place called the Brown Bread Bakery and he said it was at his ghat so he would show me the way.

He led me up the stairs and through some alleys before we finally came to the place. And for some reason, after spending just 10 minutes with this kid, I felt an instant bond with him, so much so that when he sat down at the table with me and didn’t show any indication of wanting to leave, I was actually happy for his company and wanted to treat him to something for his help.

Roy ordered a Coke and I got an amazing cheese plate (CHEEEEEESE!! How I have missed you) and we talked about life and of course about the heart and soul and culture of Varanasi. He told me all about the ritual of the body burning and was quite the educated and well-spoken little man.

Good karma candles

Roy then walked me back to my hotel but offered to show me around a little later that afternoon. I told him I’d take a rest and think about it and he went back down to hang out along the river.

After a shower, I sat on my balcony and read for a while before I noticed some rumblings down below. First there was a dispute between a young man and an older guy, the latter of which apparently stole some money from the former. The young guy came down and starting beating on the old guy’s back while he was bathing before running off. A crowd gathered around the old man but nothing happened until a few minutes later when he finished his bath and started walking away. This time the crowd surrounded him and an older guy grabbed him, reached into his pockets to recover the money and promptly slapped the guy in the face. Awesome!

After that settled down there was another ruckus, this time involving a few water buffalo locking horns and then staging their own version of the running of the bulls down along the river. Ah, Varanasi!! 

I then noticed Roy among the crowd down below and he noticed me as well and signaled for me to come down. I was just about done with my book so I wrapped it up and met Roy and his brother downstairs to see some temples. There’s nothing better than a 12-year-old tour guide!

Exhausted from a long day and early wake-up call, I said goodbye to my friends and headed back to my favorite spot on the balcony. There is something about Varanasi that just makes you stop and think, about everything and about nothing. It stops you dead in your tracks and you just feel at peace sitting and pondering life and religion and death. If you don’t believe in God, or some kind of higher being before coming to Varanasi, you will after.

My buddy and tour guide Roy

As I sat on the balcony and struggled for solutions to some pressing issues in my life (though nothing is admittedly too pressing on a six-month vacation), I realized that the one thing that unites us all throughout the world as human beings (lucky goats, they don’t have problems) is that we are ALL searching for answers. I have observed so many religions on this journey – from Muslim to Hindu to Buddhist and beyond – and all of us have fears, demons, questions we can’t answer and this is why we turn to a higher being, to faith, to whatever god we worship to help us make the hard decisions and to comfort us when we are lost. It gives us hope. It helps us make a little bit of sense out of this world that seems to make no sense at all at times. Whether we worship Buddha or Allah or Shiva or Jesus, we are all looking for the same thing: guidance, comfort and assurance that we are doing the right things.

Sunset boat ride on the Ganges

I was not raised with religion in my life at all. I have always been intrigued by it, though, and always wanted to grasp on to some kind of faith. And I admit that faith has waxed and waned over periods of my life. And shamefully it has mostly waxed, as I’m sure it does for a lot of people, when I really was at my wits end and almost completely out of strength to get through life on my own. And every time I have turned to whatever god it is up there that I believe in (because I’m not sure what it is, but I know there’s something there) I have been pulled up from the depths and rescued from the point where I didn’t think I could get back up.

I don't want kids. I just want goats.

I still think organized religion has its flaws, as evidenced by how many wars and conflicts are based over religious differences. A place like Varanasi, where so many different religions mesh together in one of the world’s holiest places, has not even been immune to it, with Islamic terrorists bombing temples here in 2006. I wish everyone could put into perspective that we are all in the same fight together. We are all lying on our beds or sitting on balconies – like I did on this night – wishing we knew solution to <insert problem here>. We are all looking for a little guidance in our lives so who cares how and from whom you seek it?

You can feel it in the people of Varanasi that they get this. Everything here is about ritual, about religion, about God. Everything is a spiritual act. Even the animals seem to carry this spirit about them, you can’t help but wonder if they’re incarnations. They seem to almost make eye contact, give you a head nod and smile at you as you walk by. They will brush up against you (or even downright rub up against you like some frisky goats). It’s not like the rest of India where you see the odd cow or goat here and there on the streets. Here, you truly feel like you co-exist with them. At every turn in the narrow alleys there’s a cow or a goat just hanging out.

Woman and dog on the ghats

I heard a lot of great things about Varanasi before I came here, but two things that stood out from fellow travelers were these: “If you don’t get mentally, emotionally and spiritually inspired there, you’re probably not alive” and “something just happens there.”

Both are true. I just felt different there. I can’t explain it, but it definitely feels like “something just happens there.” Something spiritual, peaceful and magical. Something very unique, that is for sure.

Click on this link to view all my photos of Varanasi since there are just too many to upload here.

Blah, blah, blah, I love (insert city here)

Since I am frankly tired of hearing my own voice, which means that you must be too, I’m going to bypass writing my usual wordy, rambling blog and just post a couple thoughts and my photos of Mumbai.

I never would have thought I’d say this, but after Chennai, Mumbai was a breath of fresh air – literally and figuratively. The first thing I noticed on the one hour-plus drive from the airport into town was a garbage truck – in fact many garbage trucks – something I didn’t see in a week in Chennai. My first impression of Mumbai was that it was nicer, cleaner, safer and friendlier than a lot of other cities I’ve been in, in fact I’d much rather come here again over, say, Kuala Lumpur. And that continues to be my feeling after four days here.

While all you seem to hear about Mumbai is the slums and the contrast of rich and poor, it seems that they co-exist seamlessly and you don’t really notice the poverty here as much as I expected. It is a beautiful city with some amazing British colonial-era architecture, the people are super nice and helpful and the food is fantastic.

In addition to the main sights in the city, I also caught a Bollywood matinee (for $1.50) which was an amazing experience. While it was all in Hindi and nearly three hours long (they have a 10-minute intermission!) it was entertaining for not just what was going on up on the screen but also in the crowd (people having loud conversations on their cell phones, yelling at the screen and mocking the actors).

I also spent some time at the 140-year-old Dhobi Ghat, Mumbai’s massive open-air laundry with hundreds of men hand-washing clothes in over 1,000 troughs.

Anyway, since I have nothing interesting to say at the moment, except that I love India, here are some photos from Mumbai. Next it’s off to the holy city of Varanasi where I’ll get to watch some bodies being burned in the Ganges on Valentine’s Day. How romantic!

Also, in honor of my World Champion San Francisco Giants, I’d like to keep a running total of Splash Hits (and I don’t mean home runs hit into McCovey Cove… WINK!). So far, we’re at two in 11 days. Not bad, I say!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Incredible India, Indeed

“What is it that’s drawing more and more people to India? For many it’s the challenge of getting up close with one of the planet’s most intriguing countries … and quite possibly unraveling oneself along the way. But in all its chaotic glory, you’ll soon discover that India is an eternal – and if you tune into its unique rhythm, curiously melodic – work in progress. Indeed, for many visitors this is precisely what makes her so deeply rewarding, so surprisingly addictive. Ultimately, it’s all about taking a leap of faith and surrendering to the unknown: this is the India that nothing can ever prepare you for because its very essence – its elusive soul – lies cradled in its mystery.”

- Lonely Planet

I couldn’t come close to putting into such eloquent words as the Lonely Planet in describing why I wanted to come to India. And specifically why I wanted to come here alone.

Auto rickshaws in Chennai

While this entire trip is a challenge on its own, there is something about coming to India that feels like the ultimate challenge. That’s why when I first arrived here, for the first time on this trip, I am not afraid to admit that I was afraid.

I think I’ve had a touch of denial all along about the fact that I was nervous in coming to India by myself, but on my flight over from Bangkok I allowed myself to give in to and embrace what I was feeling: a little bit terrified.

It’s always the fear of the unknown that gets me the most. What was I going to see, hear, smell after all the hype about how crazy India can be? I expected a mass of people. I expected to feel overwhelmed. I figured I’d have a little bit of culture shock.

Busy Chennai

But landing in Chennai may have been the best thing for me, as I thought it might be. It’s big, but it’s not Mumbai or Delhi big. I arrived to a calm airport late at night and it really just felt like any other place in the world.

And while I expected to feel a lot of things upon my arrival in India, romance wasn’t one of them. But when I climbed into the classic Ambassador Grand taxi, fell comfortably into the cushy back seat and the driver blared a sultry South India duet on the radio as we whizzed in and out of traffic with the windows down and the cool night air blowing in my face, I felt completely at ease and overwhelmingly happy to finally be in this crazy place.

I felt like I was in an old Bollywood movie.

Classic cabs at the train station

After the short but magical drive, we arrived at the gated entrance to my home for my first week in India, the YWCA Guesthouse. You know I’m not a religious person when on the way over I kept racking my brain for what the “C” in YWCA stood for. Whoops!

When I arrived, the manager had me sign into the guestbook and I noticed that the person who had checked in right before me listed Seattle as his hometown. Just a minute later, a man came into the lobby who I recognized as the older American gentleman who had been sitting across the aisle from me on the flight from Bangkok. Turns out he was the guy from Seattle and turns out we were neighbors at the guesthouse. What are the chances?!

As I would find out the next morning over breakfast, Ed has spent some time living in Seattle, but grew up in Chennai, lived in several other countries throughout his youth and now resides in Hanoi as a missionary, just like his parents. His kids both went to UW and he goes back to Seattle occasionally. He gave me some good advice on the area and we had a nice chat before he had to catch a train down south to do some work.

Woman doing laundry, maybe, on the train tracks. Only in India.

I wanted to spend my first day in India doing absolutely nothing and just soaking in the fact that I was, in fact, in INDIA. So nothing is exactly what I did. I had breakfast, read for a few hours in the beautiful courtyard, ate my first Indian dinner, read some more and crashed early.

I woke up the next morning with some serious butterflies. Because I came into the city at night, I had no idea what the place looked like. I was really anxious to just get out there and see India after hearing so much from other people and imagining so much in my own mind about what it would actually look, feel, sound and smell like (I don’t plan on actually tasting India itself, just the food, I hope).

Chennai Central Station

It’s probably a good thing that my first order of business here was getting my final dose of rabies vaccine. This way, I could take my first auto rickshaw ride, see a little of the city and get my bearings before walking around solo for the first time.

I arrived at this very modern and busy hospital not far from the hotel and saw immediately what everyone has talked about in describing the people of India as “some of the loveliest people in the world.” I have seriously heard these exact words several times and it’s very true. They look lovely and they treat you in such a sweet manner, for example the lady in the pharmacy just gentling touching my elbow while asking me to please wait outside for my anti-foaming-at-the-mouth medication.

While waiting for said medication and standing in the busy lobby full of women in their beautiful saris and men having animated conversations in the smooth Tamil language, and still feeling slightly jittery, I decided to just close my eyes, clear my mind and listen to the sounds of India. Suddenly I felt completely relaxed.

Marina Beach, Chennai

A few minutes later, exactly one month after my little incident in Chiang Mai, I was finally mentally (and hopefully physically) free of rabies.

I grabbed another auto which dropped me off at a travel agency where I wanted to book a couple day trips for later in the week. After accomplishing that task, I looked around and seemed to be in a good part of town to take my first wander in India and that is exactly what I did.

Not really knowing where I was and not armed with a map, I just started wandering, knowing that if I got in a place where I really didn’t know where I was, I could just grab one of the thousands of rickshaws roaming around and head back to the hotel. But I thankfully never needed to. I made my way through some amazing streets full of all the things I expected to see here – cows, people sleeping on the sidewalk, lots of garbage, cheeky young men yelling out “hello beautiful” – and some things I wasn’t expecting to see – several goats just roaming around – before finally coming to a landmark I recognized: the beautiful central train station.

These kids wanted me to take a photo of them and I obliged. Love the serious looks, and the leisure suit on the left

Feeling a bit hungry, I decided to venture inside for my first real meal in the heart of India (a YWCA buffet doesn’t count). Having had good experience with train station food on this trip, I ventured toward a food stall where a group of men were gathered around with a beautiful looking plate of food. I pointed to it and ordered the same, and it turned out to be fantastic. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was (I now know it to be my favorite of south Indian fare, idli) and not only was it delicious, my stomach handled it just fine. Another mission accomplished.

I ventured back out of the station and feeling a bit tired from my first foray into Indian life, I decided to try and find my hotel. Much to my surprise and delight, as I walked away from the station I looked up and discovered I was on the road my hotel was on and just 15 minutes later, I was at my little home sweet home, that I will admit has the feel of a mental institution (probably appropriate for how I was feeling when I first got here). I can’t stop picturing Ace Ventura visiting the Shady Acres Mental Institution every time I walk down the sterile white hallways.

Marina Beach

And I have to say, I was about as proud of myself as I’ve ever been for conquering my first day in India and was relieved to finally have those first day jitters gone.

And now one week into my time here, I feel just as comfortable as I was in Indonesia or Thailand or anywhere else on this trip. But there is still something so unique about India that you never quite feel 100% sure of yourself. As much as the first week was a success, I know there will be some shocking and trying moments over the next few weeks here. But I also already know that I love this place. In fact, I am already feeling a little sad that I am down to just three weeks here. I’m pretty sure this won’t be my only trip to India.

Silk sari store

I think part of the reason I have already, and many people do fall in love with India is for the very fact that it IS challenging and thus you feel rewarded when you figure it out. It’s every contrast you hear it is. You inhale some beautiful smells then a minute later inhale some that make you want to hold your breath for the next three weeks. You see beautiful, happy people and then you see people lying on the side of the road, not sure if they’re alive or dead. In the midst of India’s fourth largest city, I have seen cows (sadly, eating garbage), horses, goats, pigs and monkeys, to just name a few. You walk past poop of all kind, dead animals. It is harsh, that’s for sure. But it is alive and vibrant and it just feels, looks, sounds, smells and tastes exactly like you imagine India to look, sound, smell and taste (the food, that is, for the latter).

I think it was really good preparation for me to have spent so much time in SE Asia before coming here because a lot of the things that are maybe hard for people to handle in India – the garbage, the smells, the noise – I dealt with there, albeit on a smaller scale, but enough that I am a bit desensitized to them.

Pondicherry

And while I was already hit with a little “Delhi Belly” as they call it, on just day three, I think food-wise I got a bit warmed up there as well, at least to the spiciness. I was eating dinner at the guesthouse the other night with a woman who actually lives in Chennai and she was surprised I was eating the food with such ease as she felt it was too spicy for her. This surprised me because as someone who is usually sensitive to spicy food, I didn’t find this particular dish spicy at all.

I also think spending this week chilling out in Chennai was one of the best decisions I’ve made on this trip. While I took a couple day trips to the temples of Mamallapuran and to the town of Pondicherry, for the most part I have just relaxed and re-energized myself for the transition from Southeast Asia to India.

Baby chai

It was nice to be settled into one place for a full week for a change. Throughout my time in SE Asia, with the one exception of Ubud where I stayed seven nights – every 3-4 days I was packing and unpacking and moving off to another place. As much as I relaxed in each place and never felt exhausted or overwhelmed from all that moving around, I think in the long run it will be better for me to have taken this week off to just relax as India is a bit more exhausting on the whole than SE Asia. While there were days in those 2+ months where I would walk around sometimes for 7-8  hours in a day, I feel you can really only do about 3-4 maybe 5 hours tops here before it all just gets to be a bit much. So while I don’t at all feel burned out now, it’s better to take a little preventative measure this week by taking a deep breath rather than just diving head first into India.

Chai wallahs

And I really did dive head first into SE Asia and never really stopped going for it the whole time I was there, and in every way. In terms of being adventurous with food, and trusting people and the whole nine yards, I kind of threw caution to the wind a lot of time there. I just felt very comfortable and trusting of the people and the place. Not that I don’t feel that way here, but I do find that every day I need to kind of dip one foot in the water and ease into it, gradually going in up to my knees, then wading in up to my waist before finally feeling comfortable enough to stick my head under the water (without allowing any to actually get in my mouth, of course).

But now I really do dive headfirst into India as I leave the friendly confines of the YWCA and fly over to Mumbai to begin my three week tour of the north. It will go fast as I am kind of doing a whirlwind adventure from Varanasi to Agra to Jaipur and Jodhpur before finishing in Udaipur. Before I know it, I’ll be greeting my friend Tegan in Istanbul (we decided to forgo our previous plans in Cairo for obvious reasons) and this crazy adventure will be almost over.

My YWCA buddies (no, that's not Gabe Kaplan, unfortunately)

I’ve made some great friends here at the YWCA – Daisy from Chennai, Dorthe from Copenhagen, Louise from Ottawa and Ilene from Florida – and also met some amazing people on my two day trips mid-week. Surprisingly, on both trips down the coast, I was the only foreigner among Indians from all over the country, many from Calcutta who work in Chennai. They were so friendly and welcoming to me, trying so hard to use what little English they knew to make me feel like a part of the group. I could tell they felt bad for me being alone – not realizing that I am just a tad bit used to it by now – but I appreciated how sweet they were in looking after me.

But as much as I have enjoyed this week, I am ready to leave Chennai. It will probably always hold a special place in my heart as the place that popped my Indian cherry, but it’s certainly not a place I would recommend anyone to visit. Unless, that is, you want the real India, because this is as real as it gets. And having survived my first test in India, I feel ready for what the north has in store for me.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Expectations Surpassed

Expectations can be a dangerous thing. Now at the ripe old age of 33, I’m learning to temper my expectations for things, but sometimes it just can’t be helped. You hear about a place from so many other people or you dream of seeing it for so many years that you can’t help but form an image in your mind of what you think or want it to be like.

Beyond words and expectations

Two things over the last couple weeks that have not only met but gone way beyond my expectations: The food in Vietnam and the amazing temples of Angkor Wat.

In general, this trip has far exceeded all my expectations. The people I’ve met, the places I’ve seen, the food I’ve eaten… they have all gone beyond my hopes for this dream trip. Really the only disappointing thing has been my experience in Thailand and at first I thought maybe my expectations were too high. But having had just as high – perhaps even higher – expectations for other places (Indonesia, Vietnam) and having them not disappoint makes me think it was something more.

Was it just the unfortunate experiences I had (getting sick, getting bit by a dog)? Was it the fact that beach destinations aren’t ideal for solo travel? Was it just that after Indonesia, anything would have been a let-down? Or is it just a place that’s a bit overhyped? Whatever it was, I can handle a little let down with Thailand when just about everything else on this trip has gone about as perfectly as it can.

Also beyond words.

The three weeks in Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia between leaving Chiang Mai and arriving back in Bangkok were three of the best weeks of my life. There seemed to be a constant stream of new people coming into – and sadly in most cases out of – my life. Every meal seemed to top the last. Every city felt like one I wanted to linger in for a few more days. And my propensity for taking time to just chill out grew with every new place.

It got so good, I started to feel like I lived there.

Hoi An, my love

I was bumping into friends on the street, meeting up with others for dinner and drinks, and I had my favorite little cafes where I would settle down for a couple hours with some coffee and a dessert and just watch the world go by.

I really got the “do I live her?” feeling in Hoi An, not just one of my favorite places on this trip but easily one of the coolest places I’ve ever been.

Montreal Marie had arrived a day before I did, so I when I got into town, we met up for a coffee and then joined up with a couple of French people she had met in Hanoi. We strolled around the beautiful little streets and along the river and checked out an art gallery before Marie had to part with these two and meet up with another French couple she had met in Hanoi for dinner.

Ladies talking in Hoi An

She invited me to join – with the caveat that the conversation would be almost entirely in French – and I was all for it, as I’m used to being the oblivious bystander while people speak in foreign language around me from living in Japan and Austria. And I love the sound of French, so it sounded like a nice evening.

We met this adorable old couple at the Cargo Café, which would become my regular spot in Hoi An, and enjoyed some amazing food and I picked up some words here and there, while Marie occasionally translated, making for a lovely first evening in Hoi An.

An organic farm in Hoi An

The next day Marie and I met up at 8 a.m. for our big day at the Red Bridge Cooking School. I had wanted to do a cooking class somewhere on this trip since they are so prevalent throughout Southeast Asia, but I was never inspired enough in Thailand to go through with it. After hearing about the Red Bridge from a couple girls on the Halong Bay trip, and then reading about it in Lonely Planet – not to mention realizing how amazing Vietnamese food really was – it was definitely time to get it done.

We had a great day, visiting a local market to buy ingredients, checking out an organic herb farm and finally heading to the peaceful Red Bridge School along the river, where we made four amazing courses, including pho and shrimp cooked in banana leaves. The ingredients here are so fresh and healthy, the herbs and spices so beautiful, they satisfy all of your senses, not just taste (although that one is ultimately the happiest).

Local market in Hoi An

After devouring our creations, we took a boat ride down the river back into town, where Marie and I and our new Austrian friend from cooking class, Frankie, walked around town to collect our respective items at the local tailors. I had heard from so many people that I needed to get clothes made in Hoi An, as they specialize in custom made clothes shelled out in good quality in 24 hours. I wasn’t originally planning on getting anything made, but after seeing the quality they produced for such cheap prices, I couldn’t resist. Two beautiful winter coats, one women’s style army jacket (she just looked at a photo I printed from the Internet and banged it out perfectly) and two pairs of linen pants: $110. And most importantly, all fitting to perfection. Unreal. And the ladies are so cute, you just want to go back again and again.

Danger!

Marie had to head down to Saigon that night, so Frankie and I grabbed dessert at Cargo before heading back to our respective hotels since we both had to get up early for day trips – with different companies but at the same time – to nearby My Son temple.

We figured we’d bump into each other there but if not, planned on meeting up for dinner later that night. Surprisingly, I never saw her there, but managed to make friends with a nice guy, Steve, from Switzerland who has been living in Sydney for a few years. After checking out the beautiful temples – although I’ll admit at this point I was a little templed-out – we headed back to town and he joined me while I picked up my second coat… and of course he was then convinced to get one of his own. I’m telling you, it’s addicting. You kind of feel like a rock star or a model getting your measurements done and having the ladies tell you how nice you look. They sure are shrewd saleswomen in this part of the world!

With the town suffering a random power outage, we parted ways to our respective hotels, but talked about meeting up later that night, either with Frankie for dinner or some drinks after. I went back to my hotel to see if I had an email from Frankie, but unfortunately, as it turned out, the power outage kept her from getting online to shoot me a message.

Beautiful, fresh ingredients of Vietnam food

Instead, I decided to head down the opposite direction of town from my hotel where there was a tiny restaurant Anthony Bourdain had visited that specialized in crab in tamarind sauce. Having been introduced to the glory of tamarind by Frankie, I ventured out for a walk down to this restaurant that didn’t seem from the address to be too far from my hotel.

As it turned out, it was a more than a half-hour walk, but it was a pleasant walk through some beautiful rice fields. I finally reached the tiny little place and checked out the menu, and to my horror the prices were very expensive. Not having been able to get money out of the ATMs due to the power outage, I feared I had walked all that way for naught.

Wowowowowow.

As I sadly looked at the prices of the crab (I mean, it’s CRAB, I should’ve known better, even in Vietnam) that came to about US $15 (300,000 dong), the friendly woman working there asked me if I wanted to sit down. I told her I didn’t have much money and asked if there was an ATM close by. She said that sadly there was not, then asked me how much I had. When I said 230,000 dong (about $11), she said “okay, okay” and sat me down at the little picnic tables in what looked like the front driveway of their house. Nothing like bargaining for your food in Southeast Asia!

I ordered the specialty and out came this massive whole crab, smothered completely in this absolutely unbelievable Vietnamese relish with lemongrass. The dipping sauce of tamarind, lemon and ginger was beyond words. This was absolutely, hands down one of the best things I have ever eaten in my life… I may go out on a limb and say it was THE best.

Beautiful colors of Hoi An

After making an absolute mess of myself and loving every minute of it, I thanked them profusely (I was the only person dining there so I got special help in the form of one young worker cracking the piping hot crab open for me) and headed back toward my hotel, one happy little piglet.

I still hadn’t heard from Frankie but did have an email from Steve so we met up at 9 for drinks with a couple German girls he’d met somewhere in his travels. It was my first official “night out” since arriving in Southeast Asia.

Night out in Hoi An

We checked out a couple of great bars in town, one spilling over with travelers, another a mix of tourists and locals, before the Germans called it a night. Steve and I then made friends with a hilarious local dude, hopped on the back of his and a friend’s motorbikes and went on a wild ride through the market – of course closed at this point – ducking our heads to avoid knocking off the tarps covering the now-empty stalls.

You're welcome

We arrived at another crazy little bar with Vietnamese cowboys dancing on pool tables, and talked to a nice older Aussie couple who were riding Harleys around the Vietnam. It was quite the night but this old lady can only handle so much excitement, so we finally called it a night around 3.

After spending three crazy days feeling like a local in Hoi An, I was looking forward to spending my final day there just cruising around the tiny streets and soaking in my last hours in this amazing town that I could have spent weeks in – or really could live in. I visited Cargo again and had one last dessert (I went there so many times, the little girl trying to sell bracelets would see me, roll her eyes and turn toward other tourists she knew she had at least a fleeting chance with) and picked up my final articles of clothing before shipping them home.

My favorite little spot in my favorite little town

While walking around town, I of course ran into Frankie, as you do in the middle of Vietnam, and she was happy to see me since she felt bad about not being able to get in touch the previous day. I was glad to see her too and we were able to say a proper goodbye before she headed back to Vienna. I then ran into a couple of English guy’s I’d met in Halong Bay, then a Swiss guy I had met way back on the slow boat in Laos, and we chatted for a while before I went off for my last meal in Hoi An, prawns in tamarind sauce. Good lord, I love this place.

I jumped on a quick flight to Saigon, where I would re-connect again with my buddy Marie. She had found a hotel whose owner was fluent in French, so being a French-speaking gal she booked it and I went ahead and booked the same place since we’d be hanging out in Saigon for a couple days before finally going our separate ways.

I will miss this place

Trouble was, Marie didn’t realize until she arrived that it was literally right next to the airport. As in, when Son, the owner, said he’d pick me up, I figured it would be in a car, but no… he met me there (as did Marie) and we walked to the hotel. Hilarious! The airport is surprisingly small for such a big city, quite close to downtown (although with the insane traffic takes about an hour) and is right in the middle of a busy area with a mall and lots of food stalls and restaurants so it wasn’t a bad location at all.

Son and Marie

After dropping my stuff, Son and his son (who both speak some English too) took us to dinner down the street. How often do you get to go out with the hotel owner and his son?! So great. They were such nice people.

The next day, Marie and I grabbed the bus into town and did some serious eating. We visited the Ben Tranh market where we found a little stall specializing in snails, something I’ve always wanted to try. As we debated which ones to choose, a cute little Vietnamese man who now lives in Australia and was just visiting, provided some assistance, recommending where we should start as first-time snail eaters and his suggestion of apple snails in some kind of amazing sauce was of course perfection. We moved on to clams, then crab with tamarind sauce (not as good of course as Hoi An but still amazing) and finished with some spring rolls. It goes without saying that there were a lot of “Oh my god!” and “Wow” type comments with we stuffed our faces.

Mmmm, snails

At one point, after the nice Vietnamese man and his wife left after spending almost an hour chatting with us, Marie said with her hilarious French-accented sarcasm “I’m so bored with this food and these people. Give us a bad meal or be rude to us for a change.” Ah, my sister from another mister!

After wandering around the city for a while, we jumped back on the bus and headed back to the hotel as Son and one of the young guys who worked at the hotel were going to join us for dinner at a place Frankie had told us about.

Saigon traffic

Blah, blah, blah, it was amazing, you get the idea, and after dinner Son and Vu took us on a little night tour of the city, including hopping on a ferry across the river to District 2, for the grand total of 5 CENTS. You can’t get anything in the U.S. for five bloody cents!!

Marie had to leave the next night for Indonesia, so we spent our final day with an unbelievable feast in the park of items purchased at the Ben Tranh market: sugar cane shrimp, fresh and fried spring rolls, and Saigon specialties of bun cha and ban xeo. Holy f*$&* god the food here. I wish I could explain how amazing it is. Such fresh ingredients – the basil and cilantro and mint OH MY GOD – and so healthy. After having “issues” in Thailand, my system never felt so good as it did in Vietnam. And the flavors are so powerful, so intensely flavorful, I want to drink the sauces after I’m done dipping my food in them. When Anthony Bourdain talks about food porn, I know what he means. Because the food in Vietnam is hard core porn. My friend Stef likes to use the term “mouth raping” food, and that’s what I did for two weeks in Vietnam.

YES! YES! YES!

Phew, I need a cigarette.

After a couple hours at our favorite little café, Highland Coffee (the Starbucks of Vietnam), planning out our respective next legs of travel, we headed back to the airport and Son and his son and I walked Marie back to the airport and said our goodbyes. It was so sad to part ways with her. We really became fast friends and I feel like I’ve known her for years.

Reunification Palace, Saigon

It was very strange the next day being totally on my own for the first time in what seemed liked weeks. I made some great friends on the slow boat to Laos, ran into so many of those people over the next couple days in Luang Prabang, met Marie and then some other great people throughout my time in Vietnam. Then suddenly on my final day in Saigon, there I was, back wandering the streets alone and doing the touristy things, checking out the Reunification Palace and the very powerful and disturbing War Remnants Museum. It was nice to have a day to myself but was also a bit sad.

I really settled into a nice rhythm over the last couple weeks. At the beginning of my trip, I tried to see everything and do everything in each town, but I have really gotten into the habit of spending quality time in cafes, lingering over my meals and just becoming more of a local than a traveler throughout this stretch of my trip. I think after four months of traveling, you realize you can’t keep up a crazy pace all the time. You have to allow yourself to chill out in cafes, surf the web, read a book, sip a cup of coffee and just enjoy life like a local. Because really, on a trip like this you are not so much traveling or vacationing as you are just living on the road.

Boring food. Boring people.

I became such a local there that one morning on the bus in Saigon, I suddenly became the point person for tourists, helping two different couples find their way to their hotels. Marie and I became so good at the skillful art of crossing the streets amid the motorbikes that it didn’t faze us when Son led us across a six-lane road with semi-trucks barreling toward us. Eh, no biggie, just walk slow and they’ll go around you.

Old Market, Siem Reap

Sadly, I had to leave Vietnam at some point. It was an exciting time to be there as they were just days away from the big Tet celebration for Chinese New Year. It was fun over my final couple days there to see the locals starting to unwind, singing and dancing during lunch at the market in Hoi An and setting up impressive decorations throughout Saigon. It was unfortunate that I just missed the actual Tet Celebration by a few days, but have been told that being there for the lead-up is just as good, if not better.

For my final few days in Southeast Asia, I headed over to Cambodia to check out the temples of Angkor Wat, one of the two man-made wonders of the world I will get to see on this trip (Taj Mahal the other) that have really been at the top of my list for years.

Sunset at Pre Rup

Angkor Wat is just minutes from the town of Siem Reap, so I booked a room at the Rosy Guesthouse (how could I not?!) which turns out to be owned by Brits (seriously, how could I not?) which also turned out to be one of the best places I have stayed in during this trip. Not only is there a great pub vibe in the lobby of the hotel and a great lounge to chill out in on the second floor, but it is right next to the river and an easy walk into town.

Angkor Wat at sunrise

I was pleasantly surprised with Siem Reap and it easily jumped up right behind Ubud, Hoi And and Luang Prabang in the list of my favorite places on this trip. There is something about a little town on a river that just makes for such a magical vibe. There is a great old market, some amazing food and of course wonderful local people. I was sad that I only had two full days in this place that had the same sort of vibe as the three aforementioned towns that I fell in love with. And it was so quiet and chilled out, which was nice after I admittedly got a bit annoyed by the constant honking of horns in Vietnam, the one drawback to that place. Seriously, it isn’t necessary, Vietnam! Bangkok traffic is just as bad as yours and they deal just fine without the honking!! Ugh. Anyway, crossing the street was laughably easy in Siem Reap after being in Hanoi and Saigon. I feel like I could cross an Interstate in the U.S. now after spending two weeks there.

Bayon, Angkor Thom

As for Angkor Wat… Wow, what can I say? There are some places in this world that just have to be seen in person. Photos do not do them justice. I won’t even bother to try and describe it. I even stopped taking photos at one point because it’s honestly pointless. You just have to walk around with your jaw on the floor and gape at the magnitude of these colossal structures and intricate carvings that defy logic for people who didn’t have the benefit of modern technology. For people in the 8^th century to build these massive temples and carve these immense and incredibly detailed stories in stone is truly mind-boggling.

Tree growing from the ruins, Ta Prohm

There are so many different temples around Angkor Wat that you really need a week to see them all. Two days wasn’t nearly enough, but I was able to see the main temples of Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom and several others, including an amazing sunrise over the former.

Exhausted from nine hours of walking and climbing these incredible structures from 5 a.m. to 2 p.m. on my final day, I relaxed at the guest house and appropriately ate a steak pie and chips while watching Andy Murray fall flat on his face again. Oh, Brits! We are just such losers.

Cambodian girl growing from tree at Ta Prohm. JK.

The next day I took, like, my 75^th bus ride in Southeast Asia, this time headed for Bangkok where I would spend one night before flying to India. This experience was Southeast Asia in a nut shell. Sometimes you wonder what their logic is and how they work things out, but you ultimately end up where you need to go. I was picked up at 6:50 a.m. for an 8 a.m. departure (strange), driven around town on one bus while they picked up other passengers then was dropped off at another travel agency we had passed 20 minutes before. I  sat there until after 8 a.m. when they told me to get on the back of a motorbike to get dropped off at the bus station, only to have the guy drive me one block to the side of the road where the previous bus had driven by twice. Huh? This new bus was a different company than the one I booked, so I suspect the original driver forgot to drop me off where he was supposed to and I missed the original bus. But they figured it out, somehow.

I feel ya, Angelina. I get it.

This bus then drives to the Cambodia-Thailand border of Poipet where it was more confusion and nonsense and nearly three hours later I was finally on a nice, air conditioned bus for the final three hours to Bangkok with several other travelers miffed but amused at how they do business here.

I couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic upon arriving in Bangkok. While it was only a few weeks ago that I was here, it felt like an old friend I hadn’t seen in years. I’ve well documented the fact that I didn’t fall in love with Thailand. In each of the Southeast Asian countries I visited, there was one town that was truly magical where I just felt like, yeah, this is my kind of place. Everywhere except Thailand, that is. Sure, I had a magical day in Ratchaburi at the floating market and, yes, I had a magical stay at the JW Mattiott in Phuket but as far as a favorite place is concerned I would say that Bangkok was the place I felt the happiest during my month in Thailand. So as we drove through the massive city and was again greeted by photos of the king, I felt very happy to be spending my last day of my two-and-a-half glorious months in Southeast Asia here.

This little piggy went to the market... oops.

That was until I ate dinner at my favorite spot, the Siam Paragon, and 30 minutes later found myself nearly running back to my hotel where I experienced abdominal pains which I imagine resemble child birth (thanks for the confirmation that I don’t care to go through that) and cursing Thailand for bringing me constant pain and misery. And I was officially ready for India.

So, that brings me to the end of what I like to call Phase 2. With the exception of jerky-jerk-face Thailand and its rabid dogs, I could not have asked for a better time here. Expectations are hardly ever met in life, but when they are not only met but surpassed, it makes life really beautiful.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.