India

We made it to Delhi! We had been told that we would receive our onward ticket to Varanasi, as well as an escort to the hotel we were being put up at for the night once we landed. Unsurprisingly, we and a handful of other frustrated travelers found no one waiting for us upon arrival.  After a half hour of wandering around the airport, we found the Air India service desk where they were caught completely by surprise that we were in Delhi. It took a solid two hours to finally get them to make hotel arrangements and provide a printed out receipt that they said was our ticket for the following morning's flight.  A short night's sleep later, we headed back to the airport for the 5th straight day. We waited in an impressively long line to check in, got to the counter where they told us we needed to go to a different line, waited in line again, were told to move to a different line, waited again, reached the front of the line and were told that we would have to check back in two hours because we had been given a standby ticket and the flight was fully booked. Now, anyone who knows me can attest that I am the model of patience and quiet reflection in situations like this (feel free to read this as sarcastically as you see fit ;o).  I was feeling proud of myself for remaining relatively calm and understanding over the previous four infuriating days--but today I lost it in a magnificent way.  I am only slightly ashamed to say that I completely wigged out on these people. At the height of my charades I was literally standing on top of the baggage conveyor belt yelling down threats at the Air India manager that I would not leave his desk until I had a real ticket in hand to get to the city I had been schedule to get to 5 days prior. I threatened to sleep on top of his desk unless I was on the plane that morning. I didn't seem to be getting anywhere, so Blair swooped in to play "good cop", which was really just "less psychotic cop", and miraculously, two seats finally opened up for the crazy American lady and her husband! We headed to the gate feeling 49% triumphant and 51% certain that our bags would be mysteriously "lost" by the time we arrived in Varanasi (the airline equivalent to spitting in my cheeseburger).  Even so, we were eager to board the flight and get away from this place as soon as possible...and then we waited...for 8 hours.

A trip to India is not complete without witnessing the spiritual rituals performed on the shore of the Ganges, and we were beginning to think we would have to cut it from our itinerary due to all the delays we were experiencing. We were so relieved when the fog in Delhi finally lifted and we were able to make it to Varanasi. We spent two nights at a hotel that overlooked the Ganges and was in a prime spot to see the masses of Hindus come to the river each day to bathe. We witnessed the evening Agni Pooja (Worship to Fire) ceremony done at the Dashashwamedh Ghat wherein a dedication is made to Lord Shiva, River Ganges, the sun, fire and the whole universe.  We also watched as cremations took place at the Manikarnika and Harishchandra Ghats out in the open for all the world to see.

Similar to Kathmandu, Varanasi offers a certain kind of beauty--a raw beauty that represents all the aspects of the Hindu life. It may be disguised by a layer of filth, decay and disease, but it's there. On the surface you see a city full of dirt, garbage and the acrid smell of a rotting river, but the Ganges is believed to be the gateway to the next world and is full of sacred and literal transformative importance. Sacred rites and daily chores seamlessly intertwine on the banks of the river. The locals bathe in the holy Ganges River that runs along the edge of the city; they bury their dead infants in it, send their loved ones' ashes down it, wash their animals in it, empty their sewer system into it and drink from it. It is the center of their lives and Hindus from all over the world make pilgrimages to it--yet we had to be careful not to even touch it because of the extremely high bacterial levels and myriad of diseases festering in it.

From Varanasi we caught a night train to Agra to spend a couple of days touring the Agra Fort, Fatehpur Sikri (the capital city of the Mughal Empire under Emperor Akbar) and the Taj Mahal.  We decided to go authentic and ride in the sleeper car where there were no private cabins, but instead rows and rows of bunks with no bedding and we had to lock our bags to ourselves to protect from being robbed.  We boarded the train around 6pm and were scheduled to arrive around 6am the following day. I never expected to say this in India, but we froze our butts off all through our restless night of sleep--so we were pretty eager to get off the train at 6am! Then 6am turned into 10am...10am to noon...and we finally rolled into Agra 7 hours late at 1pm. 

After a quick lunch, we hurried to the Agra Fort to do an afternoon tour of the place before it closed for the evening. Upon arrival, we were informed that the Fort was closed early for a presidential visit, and he would be going to the Taj Mahal afterwards, so there was no point in going there either. At this point, between the delayed train and the president's visit, we were on target to lose another entire day of our short stay in India. Determined not give up all hope, we headed to the Mehtab Bagh gardens for a view of the Taj from across the river. On our way back through town we swung back through to the Agra Fort and raced rather quickly through the audio tour to fit it in before they closed now that the president was gone. We were rewarded with a beautiful sunset over the rich red walls of the fort, so we were pretty happy we could fit in the tour, albeit a bit shorter version than usual!

The next day we made plans to leave the hotel early to make it to the Taj Mahal for sunrise and before the hordes of other tourists arrived. Ingenious, right?! We would practically have the place to ourselves; our photos would be awesome without all the people in the background; it would give us time to head out of the city to Fatehpur Sikri in the afternoon. I'm not sure why we didn't turn right back around and crawl back into bed to sleep for another three hours once we saw the dense fog that engulfed the city--false hope, I suppose. Instead, we jumped into a tuk tuk bundled in winter coats, ski socks, wool hats and winter gloves (seriously, I had no idea India ever got this cold!) and headed toward the Taj.

Us, and a handful of other silly tourists, showed up for the opening of the gates and began touring around.  We may have been at the Taj, but we could just as easily have been at Disney World for all I could tell.  The fog was so incredibly thick that we could stand at the base of the majestic structure and literally not see the top. The iconic view down the center of the gardens with the mausoleum reaching to the sky at the end? Forget about it. The pools and trees merely lead your eyes into the abyss...the building beyond consumed by the milky white mist. We had travelled half way around the world to be awestruck by one of the magnificent Seven Wonders of the World and we left deflated, without getting a good view of the dang thing!

At this point we nearly threw in the towel, admitted defeat and watched movies in the hotel room for the rest of the day. Instead, we sucked it up and jumped on the shadiest local bus I have ever seen and started the 1.5 hour journey out to Fatahpur Sikri in Uttar Pradesh. By the time we arrived, the fog was beginning to lift and we enjoyed touring around the Jama Masjid mosque and the Palace/City complex--if you consider getting suckered into hiring a fake tour guide that we didn't want and buying a pair of ridiculously overpriced souvenier trinkets enjoyable. 

By late afternoon, we were heading back into Agra to pack up for our departure the next day. In a final 'Hail Mary', we decided to swing back by the Taj Mahal and plead with the security guards to let us back in just to take a few photos of the iconic site since the fog had finally lifted.  Blair was certain that by explaining the situation honestly and sincerely making the request, we would pull at the guard's heartstrings and he would let us in.  I wasn't so sure--not in a country that seems to run through scheming and conniving. Turns out, I was right. Blair's request was flat out rejected and he was told to go pay the high dollar and wait in the HUGE line to get back in.  Next, I went up to the guard, showed him my ticket from the morning and explained that I had waited in line and was told to go check my bag into a locker for security reasons. "Did I really have to wait in the line all over again??" He waived me through without hesitation and I headed into the complex to collect my photos, no questions asked. I'm sure there are plenty of moral red flags waiving as you read this, which are probably valid....but seriously, who goes all the way to Agra and doesn't get to see the Taj Mahal?!

The next morning, when we were heading to New Delhi to catch our flight to UAE; I had all but washed my hands of the country by this time. We caught a bus to Delhi so we didn't risk missing our flight due to a delayed train and when we were dropped just outside the city, we attempted to get a tuk tuk the rest of the way in.  We started to negotiate the price down, per usual, but this time the guy who accepted our offer was punched in the face by one of the other drivers and chased out of the parking lot for not cheating the tourists along with them. When we refused to give the attackers our business, our guy swooped back in, we threw our bags in and rushed off before any further assault could happen.

We killed the rest of the day wandering aimlessly around Delhi carrying all of our luggage because no hotel was willing to hold our bags while we toured the city, even when we offered to pay them. The only site we considered actually going into, Red Fort, was closed for the day. In the end, we headed to the airport a couple hours earlier than we had to just so we could be done. We were crossing our fingers that this AirIndia flight would go more smoothly than the last--we had booked this flight with the dreaded AirIndia before the events of last week had happened, and there was no getting out of the ticket. 

The flight was delayed about an hour, we boarded, then they had mechanical issues, so we waited on board for two hours.  Then, as we were pulling away from the gate, a passenger demanded to get off the plane due to a family emergency...which delayed us another two hours so they could remove him and his bag. Five hours later, we were finally heading to UAE.

In case you didn't notice, I had a lot of trouble writing this particular blog post. I had been trying so hard to focus on the good in India, because I know there are so many redeeming qualities about the country. The history is deep and the culture is rich.  The food is exotic and the music is vibrant. The people are full of life and cities are pulsing with energy. I'm fully convinced that the bustling country can be enjoyed and you can flourish in its chaos. Unfortunately, that was not how we experienced it.  From the delayed planes, trains and automobiles, to the constant battle against scams, to the heavy fog and freezing cold, to the rude, ungrateful and unhelpful people we encountered, our picture painted of India was a disappointing and frustrating one. I have a mixed bag of thoughts when I encounter people who fall in love with India when they visit. "What did I do wrong?" "They must have had a local friend that made it easy on them." "They must be lying--they are just saying what "real" hard core backpackers are supposed to say about India." "Maybe they went to easier locations than we did!" "I guess I'm not as brave and open minded as I thought I was." I wish I could say I would love to go back to discover the redeeming qualities of the country--but to be honest, the only way I would go back is if I was invited by a native to show us how to explore the treasures hidden below the surface. I know they are there, but it takes a diligent soul to find them.

Nepal

I was pretty nervous upon our arrival to Kathmandu. It had been on our list of "must dos" for the trip to trek to Everest Base Camp. We were both really excited about conquering such an epic trek, but then came the recent storm along the Annapurna Circuit.  It happened about two months prior to our arrival and was an incredibly rare and tragic occurrence.  The freak storm killed at least 43 people in the month of October, and we were planning to hike two months deeper into the winter season.  I was terrified that it was gearing up to be a hard winter in the Himalayas and that we would be at risk of getting caught in a similar storm.

I was on the verge of backing out until we started talking with various tour companies and guides who offered reassurance that the EBC trail is more protected from surprise fronts moving through and there are more villages to retreat to if a problem were to arise. Between their assessment of the situation and Blair's prodding, I agreed to stick with the plan. So, we arrived in Kathmandu at 11pm on the 28th and were already catching a flight to Lukla to start the trek on the morning of the 30th.  The 29th was a whirlwind day in which we selected our touring company, booked our flights, went on a shopping spree for all the necessary gear we needed for the 12-day journey, stocked up on snacks and meds for the hike and packed our bags to leave the next morning.  Gear is ridiculously inexpensive in the shops along Thamel, the trekkers' area of Kathmandu, so we were able to get knock off boots, pants, poles, hats, gloves, long underwear and water bottles for a steal

Flights from Kathmandu to Lukla are made in 15-passenger prop planes and landing in Lukla is so dangerous, that even the slightest bit of weather (rain, fog or wind) leads to canceled flights...sometimes for days or weeks at a time.  We were very fortunate to have our flight only delayed about an hour and then we were on our way!  As the 30 minute flight was coming to an end, we learned why Lukla is rated one of the most dangerous airports in the world.  We began to descend towards the airport by heading directly into a mountainside.  As we dropped, the plane began to shake with turbulance and the pilot had trouble keeping the wings horizontal against the wind.  We landed with a surprising amount of speed and the plane fought with all its might to slow down as rapidly as possible. Peaking through the front windshield of the pilots' cabin, I could tell that the runway was the shortest I have every seen and ended at the solid granite wall of the mountainside. What a rush!!

Once we departed the plane (and checked that we hadn't wet ourselves) our guide, Kishu, and porter, Nowa, greeted us with the warm, welcoming Nepalese hospitality that I was quickly falling in love with. We had a quick breakfast and then started our journey.

It's hard to describe the majestic beauty you discover around every corner and over every peak as you trek the 70 mile round trip journey on the EBC trail, but the photos do a decent job of capturing it--even if the massive scale is lost in the tiny, two-dimensional photos. According to Kishu, we were incredibly lucky with our weather.  Each morning we woke up to deep blue skies--darker blue than I have ever seen.  Even at the beginning of December, we were lucky to be able to hike most of the trip in lightweight pants and short sleeve t-shirt.  It only got cold (and I mean REALLY cold) during our highest three days and during the nights.  Seeing as the lodges had no heat in the bedrooms, we would huddle next to the stove in the common dining area playing cards and reading until around 8pm and then retire to our rooms to snuggle up in our sleeping bags for a restless night of sleep. We both looked forward to the mornings when we could start hiking again because it was so much more enjoyable than trying to sleep! That says a lot coming from a girl who LOVES her sleep!

We did really enjoy the time spent dining and lounging with other trekkers in the lodges. After an exhausting day of hiking, we had fun sharing stories, learning all about Nepalese culture and Hinduism from Kishu and playing countless card games with a great group of guys from England/Australia.

Each day of the journey got more and more difficult.  When we began, we were eager to keep climbing because they only allowed us to hike about four hours each day.  We were confident that we could hike longer, but Kishu was insistent that we take it "pole pole" (slowly slowly).  As the days progressed, we began to understand why.  The climbs became steeper, the air became thinner and our legs became more tired each day.  Throughout the trip we had two "rest days", which really meant that we stayed at the same village for two nights but during the rest day we climbed up a very steep mountainside near the village to acclimatize to that higher elevation. We would then sleep at a lower elevation which helped to avoid altitude sickness.  I'm so glad we did the hikes to prevent getting sick because we saw at least 30 helicopters throughout the 12 days that were coming to haul people off the mountain who couldn't continue the hike.  Even so, by day 8--the day we hit the base camp--my legs were so exhausted that I was having a hard time putting one foot in front of the other and I had a splitting headache that was leaving me lightheaded and sick to my stomach. Blair didn't have the trouble that I did.  He was able to hike up another 300 meters past me on our biggest rest day hike and then he woke up at 4am the day after reaching EBC so he could do the freezing cold climb to 5500 meters on Kalapatther Peak

The trek back down to Lukla went at a rapid pace.  We hiked down for about 8 hours each day, passing many of the villages we stayed at along the way up.  It felt like a marathon of walking--luckily, my audible books helped keep my mind off of the time and I mechanically put one foot in front of the other over and over and over again.  Although the cold, exhaustion and nauseousness made the trek one of the hardest things I have ever done, it was also one of the most rewarding. The natural beauty and remoteness of the place made me feel so special--like I was fortunate enough to do something that few others have had the chance to do. We have done hikes before where you are constantly surrounded by hoards of other hikers--or you reach the top and are joined by thousands of others that took a cable car up to the top to see the view.  The fact that EBC is relatively hard to reach offers trekkers a pretty exclusive look at one of the most beautiful places in the world.

After a smooth flight back to Kathmandu, we intended to spend a couple of days getting lost in the narrow, winding streets of the city and touring the countless stupas in the area. We kept hearing that there was no reason to stay in Kathmandu except as an arrival/departure point for the Himalayan treks--that the city was lacking anything interesting to see. We could not have disagreed more! We had so much fun exploring the less touristed areas where there was something new and interesting to see everywhere you looked. On the surface, Kathmandu looks like a poverty stricken, filthy, congested city being strangled by an unrelenting layer of smog, but if you look deeper you will find so much more.  Turn down this street and you will find a sculpture to the Hindu god, Ganesh that has been there for centuries.  Walk down that street and you will see a building with intricately carved windows that were sculpted around the 18th century.  Enter into this courtyard to find one of the thousands of stupas visited by local Buddhists each day. The sites are not large or famous enough to be visited by hordes of tourists.  Instead, Blair and I enjoyed a day long private scavenger hunt to discover footprints of the city's rich history blending seamlessly with the modern shops, resturants and lively markets that filled the streets. 

What was meant to be two days turned into five days as we waited and waited for our flight from Nepal to Varanasi, India to be cleared for departure. Although we had been happy to enjoy a few days in Kathmandu checking out Boudhanath Stupa, Swayambhunath Temple (Monkey Temple), Durbar Square and the hundreds of other religious sites, by the third day of waiting at the airport and then being shipped back to the hotel to wait yet another day, we were over it. Each day we waited was one less day we could spend on are already short stay in India. Finally, we were rerouted to fly to Delhi, stay the night and then fly on to Varanasi the next day.  Not ideal, but at least we were going SOMEWHERE, right? Wrong.

to be continued...