Trip Report: India Travelawg
#81
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I so enjoy reading about your trip. Thanks! Our guide in Varanasi was the exact opposite of Pi but equally annoying. He jabbered non-stop for two days, telling us so much more than we wanted to know or could possibly absorb. We couldn't figure out how to tactfully ask him to SHUT UP and just let us look and experience.
I didn't realize that you stayed in Agra for three days and had lousy weather. What a disappointment. Can't wait to read about Kathmandu. We wanted to include it but went for Ajanta and Ellora instead.
I didn't realize that you stayed in Agra for three days and had lousy weather. What a disappointment. Can't wait to read about Kathmandu. We wanted to include it but went for Ajanta and Ellora instead.
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fyi...our guide in agra told us the nite before, "lets not go to the taj till mid-morning because there will be lots of ground fog early....sure enough he was right and when we got there about 10ish it was rising and behold a white building...
now you have a reason to return...
now you have a reason to return...
#83
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Thanks for the information on Varanasi, we shall keep an eye open for π and run for cover.
Our cruise itinerary includes “Explore on foot the ghats, palaces, temples and museums of this one of the oldest cities in the world. Varanasi contemporary with 7th century BC Babylon and Nineveh, is the cultural heart of Hindu India at its richest and most beautiful. Evening boat trip to observe the spectacular ritual fire dances to Lord Shiva held on the ghats.”
That is our final day on the cruise; we then have the best part of a day on our own before our flight to Kathmandu.
Do you have suggestions for what we could do, or should we just have a quiet day to recover from 15 days spent with Dogster?
Our cruise itinerary includes “Explore on foot the ghats, palaces, temples and museums of this one of the oldest cities in the world. Varanasi contemporary with 7th century BC Babylon and Nineveh, is the cultural heart of Hindu India at its richest and most beautiful. Evening boat trip to observe the spectacular ritual fire dances to Lord Shiva held on the ghats.”
That is our final day on the cruise; we then have the best part of a day on our own before our flight to Kathmandu.
Do you have suggestions for what we could do, or should we just have a quiet day to recover from 15 days spent with Dogster?
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Your guide was smart rhkkmk. We didn't have a guide in Agra -- and maybe we should have. Even so, the fog didn't let up while we were there -- it was much more than ground fog -- in fact, flights were being cancelled all over the area for days -- including up in Delhi. We did try to take some photos like the famous Diana shot as we left the grounds, which reminded me of those old postcards you used to get where you could see something at one angle and if you tilted the card, it would disappear. Same thing happened in my camera's LCD screen -- now you see it, now you don't! Interestingly, when I uploaded my photos of the Taj to my computer, I was able to use the sharpen and contrast features to get a better image than we actually saw in person. That made me feel a lot better -- I hadn't used those features much before, but I was very impressed with what you can do with them. Its not really what we saw -- but at least it proves we were actually there!
Tangata: I would just suggest wandering around on the ghats. The highlight of Varansi is just being there and seeing the life all around you. That's the part I found most fascinating. Please say hello to dogster for me. He was very helpful when I was getting this trip together. Your river cruise should be a lot of fun!
Marija, we almost did Ajanta and Ellora instead of Kathmandu, too, but we knew that we would someday go back to India, so we decided that we could go to those places on our next trip. Still, it was a hard choice. I really liked Kathmandu -- more than I expected to -- and I'm not really sure now what I expected!) I do wish we had more time there than we did. I didn't think I would want to go back there, but now its back on our list for another visit.
Tangata: I would just suggest wandering around on the ghats. The highlight of Varansi is just being there and seeing the life all around you. That's the part I found most fascinating. Please say hello to dogster for me. He was very helpful when I was getting this trip together. Your river cruise should be a lot of fun!
Marija, we almost did Ajanta and Ellora instead of Kathmandu, too, but we knew that we would someday go back to India, so we decided that we could go to those places on our next trip. Still, it was a hard choice. I really liked Kathmandu -- more than I expected to -- and I'm not really sure now what I expected!) I do wish we had more time there than we did. I didn't think I would want to go back there, but now its back on our list for another visit.
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Kathmandu Kool
Our flight to Kathmandu is smooth – and pretty spacious. I was expecting the worst from Indian Airlines, and it really wasn’t bad at all. There are great views of the Himalayas and I snap a few photos out of the plane window. The Kathmandu Valley lies below and is completely different from what we’ve seen in India. This looks like its going to be interesting!
And it is.
After checking into the Courtyard Hotel, where we are treated to a lovely welcome in the hotel library/office, we head out for a walk through the Thamel area and over to Durbar Square. Thamel is a merchandized step back into the sixties. Loved this shirt I spotted on one young guy: “Rich parents cramping your style? Wear a Che Guevara T-shirt!” Some of the folks here look like they came here 45 years ago and stayed. Some of them smell like they’re still wearing the same clothes, too. I’m sorry if I insult anyone, but in my opinion, gray dreadlocks on an old lady look pretty ridiculous, but, hey, do your own thing, baby! Groovy!
We ramble in and around Durbar Square for a few hours. It’s great for people watching and I really like watching the interaction between the vegetable/fruit sellers and the locals on their way home from work. There are tons of teens and young folks hanging about – I guess they’re the Nepalese version of mall rats. We visit the various pagoda temples and courtyards, and of course, the Kumari Chowk, but no sight of the living goddess; she remains secreted away. Apparently, a new one was chosen recently -- I wonder what happens to the old one after her reign is over. I am approached by a sadhu near the Kasthamandap. He wants his photo taken, so I am about to oblige when a guy comes over to me and says, “Don’t do it – he’s a fake!”
“Really?”
“Yeah – he just dresses up so he can fool people out of their money.” Interesting this guy sees it as his responsibility to police the square to protect the tourists.
The sadhu does look oddly clean and put together, so maybe the guy is right, but I take his photo anyway. I give the sadhu a coin – not too much. The self-appointed cop shakes his head and strides away.
After exploring Durbar Square we go to Thamel House for a traditional Nepalese dinner. It was recommended to us by Pujan, the owner of our hotel, who tells us to ask for the Pujan special – Pujan’s uncle owns the place. (Hey, I guess you can’t blame the guy for plugging his family’s business!) We are well-taken care of at the restaurant. The traditionally-dressed waiters bring us course after course of food – roasted soy beans with ginger, dehydrated rice, delicious chicken kabobs and on and on. Then there’s the rakshi. Oh yes, the rakshi. It’s poured from an ornamental spouted metal decanter from a height of 3-4 feet into a shallow clay cup. It’s quite the spectacle. The rakshi tastes a bit like turpentine – it is powerful stuff and burns all the way down. Our cups never remain empty throughout the meal. After the copious quantities of food and rakshi, and even a little gift, we stumble back to the hotel. We’re going to sleep well tonight!
The next morning we’re off to Bhaktapur. The drive out there is great – past rice paper “factories,” terraced fields and brick-making yards. Unfortunately, there are also plenty of smokestacks, emitting huge plumes of black smoke. No wonder there’s so much pollution in the valley. We first drive up to the village of Changu (thank you Kathie for the recommendation!) It’s a pleasant little community. The Changu Narayan temple complex is very peaceful and there is a lot to look at – it all looks incredibly old (and is!). As we are walking through the village we see an old woman being harassed into smiling for a group of Japanese photographers. The group is loud, faking laughter, trying their hardest to get a grin out of the poor woman.
We head over to Bhaktapur, just a short drive away. The touts are relentless here. I find myself having to physically turn my back on them, just to carry on a conversation with DH and DD. While Bhaktapur is an active town, it’s also an open-air museum. Once the touts finally understand that we mean no when we say no, we love just roaming around here for a few hours. The buildings and temples are outstanding, but (unsurprisingly) I find the activity at pottery square and the local people more intriguing. We ate at Café Nyatapola, a busy restaurant in an old pagoda temple with a great view of Tamadhi Square and the Nyatapola Temple. Food was okay, a bit expensive for what we got. I’m sure the location adds to the price. It’s definitely geared toward tourists -- we don’t see many locals here. After some more wandering and a little shopping, we go to Kathmandu for the evening. After some rest and relaxation, we wandered back into Thamel for dinner, drinks and music at the New Orleans café. Music was good, drinks were strong, but food was eh. Still, it was a fun evening.
The next day, after a leisurely breakfast, we drive to Patan to experience our 3rd Durbar Square. First up is the Golden Temple, which I like very much – it’s magnificent and quite picturesque. I especially enjoy seeing the proud look of the young boy serving as the main priest of the temple for his thirty days (before passing the responsibility on to another boy). Patan’s Durbar Square is somewhat similar to those of Kathmandu and Bhaktapur, but because the buildings are more closely situated, it seems to have more of a visual impact. There are lots of school kids in uniforms here, smiling and laughing and meeting up with their groups of friends. After trudging around the square and in and out of the various temples and chowks, we just sit in front of the royal palace with a group of older men, chew the fat and check out the crowd for awhile.
We spend the balance of the afternoon visiting the Buddhist temples of Swayambhunath and Boudhanath. Swayambhunath is also called the monkey temple, and we do see some monkeys around (for which I have a new found fear), but there are more dogs here than monkeys. In an interesting fusion of Hinduism and Buddhism, most of the temple dogs have red tikkas on their heads – these are blessed little doggies! The hike up the steps here is breathtaking, but so is the view from the top. The prayer flags fluttering in the breeze, the brightly painted stupa, and the red-robed monks darting around make this a very colorful place.
Boudhanath, which has a similar stupa with the same dazzling eyes and the question mark nose, turns out to be my favorite venue in Kathmandu. Around the shrine are hundreds of prayer wheels. At the back side of the stupa is a shrine to Ajima, a fierce, mean goddess revered by both Hindus and Buddhists. Near the Ajima shrine, guarded by a charming, eccentric-looking monk, are two HUGE prayer wheels – we go in and give them a big push. The most interesting part of Boudhanath though is the people. If you like taking photos of people as I do, this is a great place to do it. The visiting pilgrims who come to whirl the prayer wheels are dressed in bright native garments worthy of a National Geographic spread. Those of you heading off to Kathmandu should make sure you get over here at least once. It’s a wonderful place to take in the Nepalese/Tibetan ambiance.
Our last morning in Kathmandu we stop at Pashupatinath on the way to the airport. The cremation ghats are burning strong, and the smoky haze wafting over the bridge and pagodas on the Bagmati River creates an eerie atmosphere. Just down from the cremation pyres, women are washing their clothes in the river. On the other side of the bridge, Hindu pilgrims are making puja on the water. Lots of sadhus are wandering around looking for us to take their photos for a few Rupees, but I’ve pretty much had my fill of sadhus now (including a fake one!). I was astonished to learn that we are forbidden from entering the temple, as we are not Hindus (the same rule applied at the temple in Bhaktapur). This is surprising to me after visiting India, where we were free to go into any of the Hindu temples. We didn’t stay long at Pashupatinath – after all we were in a bit of a hurry to get to the airport. Turns out, we need not have hurried. Our flight was delayed for five hours and we got stuck sitting in the awful waiting hall in the Kathmandu airport.
I really liked Kathmandu and the surrounding Valley. My only regret is that we did not have enough time there. Next time I hope to get out to a village or two in the countryside and maybe do some easy trekking. No Mt. Everest for me – it was enough just to see it out the window of the plane!
Our flight to Kathmandu is smooth – and pretty spacious. I was expecting the worst from Indian Airlines, and it really wasn’t bad at all. There are great views of the Himalayas and I snap a few photos out of the plane window. The Kathmandu Valley lies below and is completely different from what we’ve seen in India. This looks like its going to be interesting!
And it is.
After checking into the Courtyard Hotel, where we are treated to a lovely welcome in the hotel library/office, we head out for a walk through the Thamel area and over to Durbar Square. Thamel is a merchandized step back into the sixties. Loved this shirt I spotted on one young guy: “Rich parents cramping your style? Wear a Che Guevara T-shirt!” Some of the folks here look like they came here 45 years ago and stayed. Some of them smell like they’re still wearing the same clothes, too. I’m sorry if I insult anyone, but in my opinion, gray dreadlocks on an old lady look pretty ridiculous, but, hey, do your own thing, baby! Groovy!
We ramble in and around Durbar Square for a few hours. It’s great for people watching and I really like watching the interaction between the vegetable/fruit sellers and the locals on their way home from work. There are tons of teens and young folks hanging about – I guess they’re the Nepalese version of mall rats. We visit the various pagoda temples and courtyards, and of course, the Kumari Chowk, but no sight of the living goddess; she remains secreted away. Apparently, a new one was chosen recently -- I wonder what happens to the old one after her reign is over. I am approached by a sadhu near the Kasthamandap. He wants his photo taken, so I am about to oblige when a guy comes over to me and says, “Don’t do it – he’s a fake!”
“Really?”
“Yeah – he just dresses up so he can fool people out of their money.” Interesting this guy sees it as his responsibility to police the square to protect the tourists.
The sadhu does look oddly clean and put together, so maybe the guy is right, but I take his photo anyway. I give the sadhu a coin – not too much. The self-appointed cop shakes his head and strides away.
After exploring Durbar Square we go to Thamel House for a traditional Nepalese dinner. It was recommended to us by Pujan, the owner of our hotel, who tells us to ask for the Pujan special – Pujan’s uncle owns the place. (Hey, I guess you can’t blame the guy for plugging his family’s business!) We are well-taken care of at the restaurant. The traditionally-dressed waiters bring us course after course of food – roasted soy beans with ginger, dehydrated rice, delicious chicken kabobs and on and on. Then there’s the rakshi. Oh yes, the rakshi. It’s poured from an ornamental spouted metal decanter from a height of 3-4 feet into a shallow clay cup. It’s quite the spectacle. The rakshi tastes a bit like turpentine – it is powerful stuff and burns all the way down. Our cups never remain empty throughout the meal. After the copious quantities of food and rakshi, and even a little gift, we stumble back to the hotel. We’re going to sleep well tonight!
The next morning we’re off to Bhaktapur. The drive out there is great – past rice paper “factories,” terraced fields and brick-making yards. Unfortunately, there are also plenty of smokestacks, emitting huge plumes of black smoke. No wonder there’s so much pollution in the valley. We first drive up to the village of Changu (thank you Kathie for the recommendation!) It’s a pleasant little community. The Changu Narayan temple complex is very peaceful and there is a lot to look at – it all looks incredibly old (and is!). As we are walking through the village we see an old woman being harassed into smiling for a group of Japanese photographers. The group is loud, faking laughter, trying their hardest to get a grin out of the poor woman.
We head over to Bhaktapur, just a short drive away. The touts are relentless here. I find myself having to physically turn my back on them, just to carry on a conversation with DH and DD. While Bhaktapur is an active town, it’s also an open-air museum. Once the touts finally understand that we mean no when we say no, we love just roaming around here for a few hours. The buildings and temples are outstanding, but (unsurprisingly) I find the activity at pottery square and the local people more intriguing. We ate at Café Nyatapola, a busy restaurant in an old pagoda temple with a great view of Tamadhi Square and the Nyatapola Temple. Food was okay, a bit expensive for what we got. I’m sure the location adds to the price. It’s definitely geared toward tourists -- we don’t see many locals here. After some more wandering and a little shopping, we go to Kathmandu for the evening. After some rest and relaxation, we wandered back into Thamel for dinner, drinks and music at the New Orleans café. Music was good, drinks were strong, but food was eh. Still, it was a fun evening.
The next day, after a leisurely breakfast, we drive to Patan to experience our 3rd Durbar Square. First up is the Golden Temple, which I like very much – it’s magnificent and quite picturesque. I especially enjoy seeing the proud look of the young boy serving as the main priest of the temple for his thirty days (before passing the responsibility on to another boy). Patan’s Durbar Square is somewhat similar to those of Kathmandu and Bhaktapur, but because the buildings are more closely situated, it seems to have more of a visual impact. There are lots of school kids in uniforms here, smiling and laughing and meeting up with their groups of friends. After trudging around the square and in and out of the various temples and chowks, we just sit in front of the royal palace with a group of older men, chew the fat and check out the crowd for awhile.
We spend the balance of the afternoon visiting the Buddhist temples of Swayambhunath and Boudhanath. Swayambhunath is also called the monkey temple, and we do see some monkeys around (for which I have a new found fear), but there are more dogs here than monkeys. In an interesting fusion of Hinduism and Buddhism, most of the temple dogs have red tikkas on their heads – these are blessed little doggies! The hike up the steps here is breathtaking, but so is the view from the top. The prayer flags fluttering in the breeze, the brightly painted stupa, and the red-robed monks darting around make this a very colorful place.
Boudhanath, which has a similar stupa with the same dazzling eyes and the question mark nose, turns out to be my favorite venue in Kathmandu. Around the shrine are hundreds of prayer wheels. At the back side of the stupa is a shrine to Ajima, a fierce, mean goddess revered by both Hindus and Buddhists. Near the Ajima shrine, guarded by a charming, eccentric-looking monk, are two HUGE prayer wheels – we go in and give them a big push. The most interesting part of Boudhanath though is the people. If you like taking photos of people as I do, this is a great place to do it. The visiting pilgrims who come to whirl the prayer wheels are dressed in bright native garments worthy of a National Geographic spread. Those of you heading off to Kathmandu should make sure you get over here at least once. It’s a wonderful place to take in the Nepalese/Tibetan ambiance.
Our last morning in Kathmandu we stop at Pashupatinath on the way to the airport. The cremation ghats are burning strong, and the smoky haze wafting over the bridge and pagodas on the Bagmati River creates an eerie atmosphere. Just down from the cremation pyres, women are washing their clothes in the river. On the other side of the bridge, Hindu pilgrims are making puja on the water. Lots of sadhus are wandering around looking for us to take their photos for a few Rupees, but I’ve pretty much had my fill of sadhus now (including a fake one!). I was astonished to learn that we are forbidden from entering the temple, as we are not Hindus (the same rule applied at the temple in Bhaktapur). This is surprising to me after visiting India, where we were free to go into any of the Hindu temples. We didn’t stay long at Pashupatinath – after all we were in a bit of a hurry to get to the airport. Turns out, we need not have hurried. Our flight was delayed for five hours and we got stuck sitting in the awful waiting hall in the Kathmandu airport.
I really liked Kathmandu and the surrounding Valley. My only regret is that we did not have enough time there. Next time I hope to get out to a village or two in the countryside and maybe do some easy trekking. No Mt. Everest for me – it was enough just to see it out the window of the plane!
#89
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What a wonderful report. We are heading to pretty much all the same places next Jan. 2010 and yours is the best and easiest read I have come across on any forum. Great work and you have given us lots of valuable information. Thank you for taking the time to do this.
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Trav this is great. Thank you & very timely for me as we are just back from Tanzania & thinking our next trip will be a return trip to India. We want to focus on Rajastan with a side trip to Varanasi (just din't get enough time there last time) A few questions if you don't mind.
How long were you actually in India? Sounds like the car & driver will be a good way to go for us. Don't want everything organized but since we don't have the luxury of loads & loads of time a car would help. We are thinking of Jan or Feb 2010.
Thanks for getting me all wound up & wanting to go!
How long were you actually in India? Sounds like the car & driver will be a good way to go for us. Don't want everything organized but since we don't have the luxury of loads & loads of time a car would help. We are thinking of Jan or Feb 2010.
Thanks for getting me all wound up & wanting to go!
#92
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Thanks for keeping this alive guys. I almost decided not to post my final segment, figuring everyone had gotten tired of me. We were there for about 5 weeks jules. Folks on this board have different opinions on the car and driver option vs. trains or flying. We used all three, depending on our needs, but really liked using the car in Rajasthan -- it was wonderful having a driver on call everyday and I also really like seeing the countryside and having the ability to stop whenever I want to. I fly quite a bit, and it seems to me that by the time you make it to the airport, check-in, get through security, wait around for an hour or two, you might as well drive (obviously depending on how far you are going). Now, I agree it is probably more comfortable to fly (especially on Kingfisher), but I didn't think the roads were THAT bad.
I really hope you enjoy your planning live42day and jules 39! Oh, how I wish it were me planning my next trip there!
Marija, You've been so supportive of this trip report. How can I ever thank you for your kind words? You're obviously a wonderful person. Namaste!
And now for my last segment!
I really hope you enjoy your planning live42day and jules 39! Oh, how I wish it were me planning my next trip there!
Marija, You've been so supportive of this trip report. How can I ever thank you for your kind words? You're obviously a wonderful person. Namaste!
And now for my last segment!
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Sorry it is so long!!!
Delhi: Kali Ma!
We arrived in Delhi five hours late. We were exhausted from the seemingly interminable wait in the clinical passenger waiting area in the Kathmandu airport, and ravenous too, as we feared leaving the room to find food and by doing so, losing our valuable seats and having to go back through the long security lines again. In spite of that, we were happy to see the driver we had hired for the next several days waiting with our name on his sign. Delhi was still in a pretty deep fog, so we considered it fortunate that our flight actually made it into the airport at all. Dozens of flights were being cancelled, which had continued for several days, creating an exceptionally chaotic atmosphere in the airport. The driver said he was tired from waiting hours for us. I apologized. I don’t know why, as it wasn’t our doing, but I always feel responsible for others being put out. (Still, I wondered to myself, we had sent our flight details in advance, so why didn’t the driver or the car company check on our flight status with the airport or airline? I can’t imagine waiting outside the arrivals terminal for five hours when surely it was obvious from the weather at least that we were going to be delayed!) We had originally planned on seeing some sights such as the Qutb Complex and/or the Lotus Temple on our way from the airport to our B&B, but because of the flight delay, that was no longer possible. In any case, the driver had the name and location of our B&B, so we chugged along slowly through the fog dreaming of relaxation and food at the end of a hard travel day.
As we neared Friends Colony East, the location of Delhi Bed and Breakfast, we hit some traffic at one of the intersections and as is typical of such situations in India everyone is vying for the same spot. Well, a Nirula’s delivery guy in his official red uniform on a motorbike with a metallic refrigerated box attempts to cut off our van. He’d been trying to get around us for a couple of miles and, he almost made it, to the screeching of brakes – both his and ours. Our driver immediately rolls down his window and lets into the Nirula’s guy – who shouts back, apparently adding on some choice adjectives. Whatever he says apparently provokes our driver to the point where you could almost see the steam emitting from his ears. He’s not going to take it! He cracks his door open and spits epithets back at Nirula. Nirula puts down his bike and charges over to the van and gets in our driver’s face. Our driver, who at this point has obviously forgotten that he is responsible for the safety of his three passengers, gets out of the car. A crowd gathers. The argument escalates, and while we don’t speak any Hindu, we hear both Nirula and our driver at the top of their voices invoke the name of Kali, goddess of death and destruction. Now, this is getting really ugly. The crowd gets into it – a scrum starts to swirl around us. This is scary and crazy!!! We are in the car shouting, “Just get us to our hotel!” After a few minutes, exhaustion turns my fear into sheer anger, and to the worry of DH and DD, I get out of the car, pull on the driver’s arm and scream at him, “STOP THIS NONSENSE, GET BACK IN THE VAN AND DRIVE US TO THE HOTEL!” The driver is shocked, Nirula is shocked, the crowd is shocked into momentary silence, and I push the driver toward the car and yell, “NOW!” Unbelievably, he does, and the crowd starts to dissipate and we drive away with Nirula waving his arms at us.
We make it into Friends Colony, but now the driver is lost. Maybe he is still fuming from his argument, I don’t know, but he admits he doesn’t know how to find the B&B. What is it with these drivers?!! Maybe my expectations are too high – I mean, we just get on the internet and plug addresses into mapquest or google and voila, directions! I’m assuming that isn’t available in India? But are there no maps? DH tells him to ask for directions. We stop to ask a guard sitting in a shack, but no luck. We spot a couple out for a walk in the neighborhood, and the guy is able to give us specific directions: second right, first left, third left. We take off down the road, pass the first left, and then promptly pass the second left.
DD says, “Hey, you just passed the turn!”
The driver says, “No, there was no turn.”
“Yes, back there!”
“No, it was just a driveway.”
“No, it was a road.” She is looking at me in disbelief.
We continue driving and eventually come to a dead-end.
“Turn around and go back to the road,” says DH.
Sure enough, there is the road.
“Oh, I thought it was a driveway.”
Thank goodness there weren’t any other right turns to really mess us up!
Finally, we get to the B&B. Pervez, the owner, meets us out on the street.
“I’ve been expecting you!” he cheerfully greets us. “What took you so long?”
“Don’t ask!” I say. I think he understands. Turns out the guy who gave us directions is a close friend of Pervez and he called him to tell him we were looking for his place. Sweet!
We are immediately invited in for tea. Wonderful!
Pervez has our bags unloaded and taken to our rooms and we sit in a cozy central room and enjoy tea with a very reserved, straight, but cute, British couple, who will depart for Simla tomorrow. (They actually bring to mind the couples’ dinner in Bridget Jones’ Diary – Hi Bridge!)
There is a knock at the door, and Pervez goes out to answer it.
He comes back in to tell me it’s the driver.
Oh yeah, the driver.
I go out and he tells me I need to pay him for the next 3 days in advance.
“What?!! No, absolutely not.”
(Am I wrong here? I have not had to pay any driver anywhere I have ever been for services in advance!)
“But Madam, that is our policy.”
“I will pay you for today, but that’s it.”
“I will have to call my supervisor.”
“Fine. Call. I am not paying you anything in advance.”
I wait as he calls his office on his cell phone and proceeds to discuss the situation with his dispatcher.
“He wants to talk to you.” He hands me the phone.
“Yes?”
“Madam, you hired us for half of a day today, all day tomorrow and half a day after that.” Mr. Dispatcher is talking to me as if I am an idiot. I am trying to remain calm and polite.
“Yes, I did, but I am not paying you in advance. I will pay you at the end of each day. And, by the way, please send me a different driver. This idiot almost got us killed. He got in a fight with another driver, put us at risk of a mob, and then he got lost trying to find our hotel. Don’t even think of sending him back.” I am doing my assertive/polite best.
“Don’t worry, he is not your driver tomorrow,” the dispatcher says in that Indian sing-songy voice. I can imagine his head bobbling. “But you must pay him for our services. In advance of tomorrow.”
“No, I will pay him for today and that is it.”
“Fine, OK, then.” The dispatcher realizes I am not going to back down.
Pervez is standing by listening with wide eyes.
“How much do I owe for today?”
“Eighty dollars Madam.”
“WHAT?!!! I DO NOT owe you eighty dollars for a ride from the airport!”
I am no longer calm.
“Our driver waited for you there since one pm and you hired us for half a day,” Mr. Dispatcher protested. They are trying to take me, I think to myself. The LAST straw!
“You had my flight schedule and my cell phone number, why didn’t one of you call me or the airline or the airport and find out that we were delayed?!! I am not going to pay you for your driver waiting around an airport all day. He did not render any services to us except to drive us to the hotel – and it was clear you knew our schedule in advance, including that you understood it was a possibility we might not be able to visit anything depending on when we arrived. It was in our emails to each other. Do I have to go dig out the email and read it to you?!!”
(TIP: Get as much as you can in writing in advance. We HAD in fact communicated the fact that we might not get to do anything that afternoon, depending on our flights – it was the car company that had suggested we might be able to fit some things in after our airport pickup!)
“And listen to me. Are you listening to me? Don’t bother sending a driver tomorrow or the day after. I AM FIRING YOU!!!”
Both the driver and Pervez are listening in apparent amazement.
“OK, it is twenty-seven dollars Madam,” says Mr. Dispatcher.
“Fine.” I toss the cell phone back at the driver, pull out the money and brusquely hand it to him. I almost dropped it on the ground, but I restrained myself.
I turn to walk back into the house with Pervez.
“Was I wrong Pervez?”
“Not at all. I was wondering what took you so long and why you were so polite!”
“It’s an American thing, I think. You’re right – I was too nice.”
I enter the little drawing room where the tea party is going on.
“Is everything OK? DH asks.
“Fine. I fired them.”
“Good!” says DD.
Pervez offers to set us up with a driver tomorrow. I have no idea whether this is going to work out, but at this point, we’re nearing the end of our trip and I am worn out from the haggling. It’s nice to have someone else make the arrangements for once.
“Great. Excellent. Can he be here tomorrow at 10?”
“No problem. If there is anything else I can help with, let me know.”
“Actually there is,” DD says. “I am starving. Is there a good restaurant nearby?”
“You can go to Friends Colony Community Center. There are some restaurants there.”
“How far?” I ask.
“It’s a bit of a walk, but not too, too far, or you can go to the end of the road and get a taxi or rickshaw there.”
We decide to get a rickshaw instead of walking. We are tired.
We wander out to the main road, but there is just one cycle rickshaw there, with room only for two, and there are three of us.
“You want rickshaw?” the elderly skinny little driver asks. He is dressed in a dhoti and slip-on sandals, a suit jacket and turban.
“Yes, but we need another one.”
“No problem, I take you all. Fifty Rupees.”
“But there is just room for two,” I say. And with our ample derrieres, it’s going to be crowded on that seat even with just a couple of us.
“One sits here,” he points to his seat.
“But where will you sit?” DH asks the driver.
“It’s not far. I don’t need to sit.”
So DD takes the cycle seat, facing backwards and DH and I cram our butts into the “two-person” passenger seat. The little guy takes off and DD grabs our arms so she doesn’t fall off the rickshaw. She has nothing to hold on to and we are moving like the wind! OMG, this guy is strong! He is peddling standing up and dragging at least 5 times his own weight. Absolutely impressive.
We get to Friends Colony Community Center in a flash.
He offers to wait and take us back, which is great!
We opt for dinner at the Yum-Yum Tree, a Chinese place, and it turns out to be an excellent dinner. Maybe it’s because it’s so late and we are so hungry, but everything tastes delicious. We start with crispy fired okra and some dim sum for an appetizer. Manhattans all around -- it has been a tough day! DD has spinach soup and mock duck. DH has wonton soup and Peking duck. I have roasted duck and udon noodle soup (ducks are having a bad night with us!) and sea bass with garlic sauce. For dessert, jasmine tea, and we share some sesame ice cream, chocolate shortbread cookies and a pomegranate martini mousse with a pomegranate rum sauce. About $120 for the night – a tad on the expensive side, but we thought it was worth it. The staff was very attentive and the service was excellent. On our way out, they gifted me with a luscious box of chocolates. Yum, yum!
Sure enough, the cycle rickshaw driver is patiently waiting for us, even though it has gotten really late (we closed out the restaurant). We climb back on, but the ride back is much longer – the roads are one way, so to get back to the B&B we have to circle all the way around the colony to get back. The driver is starting to slow down – I am hoping our now even more abundant mass won’t kill him before we get back. I am still absolutely amazed at what these guys do. We give him a huge tip – 50 Rs (about a buck) is just not enough for his feat!
Next morning we enjoy a lovely breakfast around a big table where we meet a charming young American couple who have just arrived and ready to embark on their own Indian odyssey. Their plans sound great. Pervez joins us. We are waited on by his elderly mother Padma, who continually keeps our plates filled with parathas and pakoras. Pervez is a great conversationalist and very funny, and we laugh a lot. He has arranged a car and sightseeing day for us, which turned out better than we ever could have expected. We start at Humayun’s Tomb, which is the precursor to the Taj, and which I actually like better, because it is quieter (and maybe because the fog here is not as dense). Then we go over to the Crafts Museum, which has some interesting exhibits and an amazing textile collection (if you like that sort of thing – which I happen to – DH not so much).
Next we stop at the India Gate, which is overflowing with people and street merchants selling little mechanical toys, balloons and bangles. DD decides to get her hand hennaed. We get taken, and we know it, and the crowd around us is shocked at the price we are paying – the stupid, white tourist price, no doubt – but the henna is very detailed and looks great, so she’s happy. We drive up the Rajpath past the government buildings – an amazing site in and of itself. Bleachers are being set up in preparation for Independence Day coming up on January 26th.
After lunch at a non-descript tourist place we drive into Old Delhi. It’s massively crowded and it takes forever to weave through the old city streets. We visit Jami Masjid – the largest mosque in India – DD is getting quite a few stares here and lots of sneak photos taken. It’s amusing how the teenagers (and some not so young) sidle up and pretend they are with you while their friends snap photos with their cell phones. Our photos are now stored on phones all over India! We need a restroom, and we are directed by the sock-seller to the bottom of the steps to the left side of the mosque. There is nothing there but a huge set of double iron doors. We shrug at each other and I knock. The door opens a crack.
“Toilet?” I ask.
The door opens wider and we are invited in by a youngish man who points toward a door.
DD goes in first and DH and I sit on a bench in the courtyard.
Three little girls in various stages of undress come wandering out of a tiny room next to the toilet room. They begin to dance around us, smiling and tipping their heads coyly.
Their mother calls to them – they are supposed to be getting ready for their bath – but they continue to dance and hum and ignore her calls.
Mum finally comes out with her hands on her hips and scolds them to come in. The littlest one stays behind and continues staring and smiling at us, stark naked, and finally Dad, the young man who answered the gate, comes out and calls to her and she reluctantly and slowly skips in for her bath.
BTW, the toilet is pretty clean, but the bowl has foot treads on it, even though it is a foot and a half off the ground. Do people really get up there and squat? I guess so!
After wandering the lanes around the mosque and Chandni Chowk, we finish our day of sightseeing at the Red Fort. It must have been quite the place in its day – gorgeous marble inlay, much like the Taj. Very pleasant to stroll around here for a couple of hours.
For our evening pleasure we find a movie theater on Connaught Place and see the new Aamir Khan pic Ghajini. Man, that guy is built! Wow, what an 8-pack! Anyway, I digress – it was a fabulous way to end a jam-packed day.
Our last day in India has sadly arrived. We’ve loved it – even the difficult parts – and we are both sad and happy to be going home. We have breakfast around the big round table again with the young Americans, who report having had a great day of Delhi sightseeing yesterday, and a newly arrived older couple from New Zealand. Peter is returning to India after many years, and Teresa is here for the first time. I don’t know what Peter does for a living, but Teresa says she teaches meditation. Hmmm. I think she’s going to have a great time in India!
After packing for the final time, we say our goodbyes to Pervez and the Delhi B&B. It turned out to be a nice respite at the end of our trip. The driver picks us up and we make a couple more stops before the airport: the Lotus Temple (which I find somewhat creepy) and the Qutb Complex – the perfect end to a fantastic holiday. My photo card is full, so it’s really time to go.
Kingfisher wings us off to Mumbai, where we board our flight back to the USA. In spite of the chaos of India, I know I am returning home with a new sense of balance.
Thanks to those who have stuck with me and followed my stories. If it’s not obvious, I left India with an immediate desire to return.
Now the only question is: when?!!
For those interested here are some of my photos – best viewed in slideshow, set the seconds as desired:
http://picasaweb.google.com/Christys...ztxvOJtrOMwAE#
Delhi: Kali Ma!
We arrived in Delhi five hours late. We were exhausted from the seemingly interminable wait in the clinical passenger waiting area in the Kathmandu airport, and ravenous too, as we feared leaving the room to find food and by doing so, losing our valuable seats and having to go back through the long security lines again. In spite of that, we were happy to see the driver we had hired for the next several days waiting with our name on his sign. Delhi was still in a pretty deep fog, so we considered it fortunate that our flight actually made it into the airport at all. Dozens of flights were being cancelled, which had continued for several days, creating an exceptionally chaotic atmosphere in the airport. The driver said he was tired from waiting hours for us. I apologized. I don’t know why, as it wasn’t our doing, but I always feel responsible for others being put out. (Still, I wondered to myself, we had sent our flight details in advance, so why didn’t the driver or the car company check on our flight status with the airport or airline? I can’t imagine waiting outside the arrivals terminal for five hours when surely it was obvious from the weather at least that we were going to be delayed!) We had originally planned on seeing some sights such as the Qutb Complex and/or the Lotus Temple on our way from the airport to our B&B, but because of the flight delay, that was no longer possible. In any case, the driver had the name and location of our B&B, so we chugged along slowly through the fog dreaming of relaxation and food at the end of a hard travel day.
As we neared Friends Colony East, the location of Delhi Bed and Breakfast, we hit some traffic at one of the intersections and as is typical of such situations in India everyone is vying for the same spot. Well, a Nirula’s delivery guy in his official red uniform on a motorbike with a metallic refrigerated box attempts to cut off our van. He’d been trying to get around us for a couple of miles and, he almost made it, to the screeching of brakes – both his and ours. Our driver immediately rolls down his window and lets into the Nirula’s guy – who shouts back, apparently adding on some choice adjectives. Whatever he says apparently provokes our driver to the point where you could almost see the steam emitting from his ears. He’s not going to take it! He cracks his door open and spits epithets back at Nirula. Nirula puts down his bike and charges over to the van and gets in our driver’s face. Our driver, who at this point has obviously forgotten that he is responsible for the safety of his three passengers, gets out of the car. A crowd gathers. The argument escalates, and while we don’t speak any Hindu, we hear both Nirula and our driver at the top of their voices invoke the name of Kali, goddess of death and destruction. Now, this is getting really ugly. The crowd gets into it – a scrum starts to swirl around us. This is scary and crazy!!! We are in the car shouting, “Just get us to our hotel!” After a few minutes, exhaustion turns my fear into sheer anger, and to the worry of DH and DD, I get out of the car, pull on the driver’s arm and scream at him, “STOP THIS NONSENSE, GET BACK IN THE VAN AND DRIVE US TO THE HOTEL!” The driver is shocked, Nirula is shocked, the crowd is shocked into momentary silence, and I push the driver toward the car and yell, “NOW!” Unbelievably, he does, and the crowd starts to dissipate and we drive away with Nirula waving his arms at us.
We make it into Friends Colony, but now the driver is lost. Maybe he is still fuming from his argument, I don’t know, but he admits he doesn’t know how to find the B&B. What is it with these drivers?!! Maybe my expectations are too high – I mean, we just get on the internet and plug addresses into mapquest or google and voila, directions! I’m assuming that isn’t available in India? But are there no maps? DH tells him to ask for directions. We stop to ask a guard sitting in a shack, but no luck. We spot a couple out for a walk in the neighborhood, and the guy is able to give us specific directions: second right, first left, third left. We take off down the road, pass the first left, and then promptly pass the second left.
DD says, “Hey, you just passed the turn!”
The driver says, “No, there was no turn.”
“Yes, back there!”
“No, it was just a driveway.”
“No, it was a road.” She is looking at me in disbelief.
We continue driving and eventually come to a dead-end.
“Turn around and go back to the road,” says DH.
Sure enough, there is the road.
“Oh, I thought it was a driveway.”
Thank goodness there weren’t any other right turns to really mess us up!
Finally, we get to the B&B. Pervez, the owner, meets us out on the street.
“I’ve been expecting you!” he cheerfully greets us. “What took you so long?”
“Don’t ask!” I say. I think he understands. Turns out the guy who gave us directions is a close friend of Pervez and he called him to tell him we were looking for his place. Sweet!
We are immediately invited in for tea. Wonderful!
Pervez has our bags unloaded and taken to our rooms and we sit in a cozy central room and enjoy tea with a very reserved, straight, but cute, British couple, who will depart for Simla tomorrow. (They actually bring to mind the couples’ dinner in Bridget Jones’ Diary – Hi Bridge!)
There is a knock at the door, and Pervez goes out to answer it.
He comes back in to tell me it’s the driver.
Oh yeah, the driver.
I go out and he tells me I need to pay him for the next 3 days in advance.
“What?!! No, absolutely not.”
(Am I wrong here? I have not had to pay any driver anywhere I have ever been for services in advance!)
“But Madam, that is our policy.”
“I will pay you for today, but that’s it.”
“I will have to call my supervisor.”
“Fine. Call. I am not paying you anything in advance.”
I wait as he calls his office on his cell phone and proceeds to discuss the situation with his dispatcher.
“He wants to talk to you.” He hands me the phone.
“Yes?”
“Madam, you hired us for half of a day today, all day tomorrow and half a day after that.” Mr. Dispatcher is talking to me as if I am an idiot. I am trying to remain calm and polite.
“Yes, I did, but I am not paying you in advance. I will pay you at the end of each day. And, by the way, please send me a different driver. This idiot almost got us killed. He got in a fight with another driver, put us at risk of a mob, and then he got lost trying to find our hotel. Don’t even think of sending him back.” I am doing my assertive/polite best.
“Don’t worry, he is not your driver tomorrow,” the dispatcher says in that Indian sing-songy voice. I can imagine his head bobbling. “But you must pay him for our services. In advance of tomorrow.”
“No, I will pay him for today and that is it.”
“Fine, OK, then.” The dispatcher realizes I am not going to back down.
Pervez is standing by listening with wide eyes.
“How much do I owe for today?”
“Eighty dollars Madam.”
“WHAT?!!! I DO NOT owe you eighty dollars for a ride from the airport!”
I am no longer calm.
“Our driver waited for you there since one pm and you hired us for half a day,” Mr. Dispatcher protested. They are trying to take me, I think to myself. The LAST straw!
“You had my flight schedule and my cell phone number, why didn’t one of you call me or the airline or the airport and find out that we were delayed?!! I am not going to pay you for your driver waiting around an airport all day. He did not render any services to us except to drive us to the hotel – and it was clear you knew our schedule in advance, including that you understood it was a possibility we might not be able to visit anything depending on when we arrived. It was in our emails to each other. Do I have to go dig out the email and read it to you?!!”
(TIP: Get as much as you can in writing in advance. We HAD in fact communicated the fact that we might not get to do anything that afternoon, depending on our flights – it was the car company that had suggested we might be able to fit some things in after our airport pickup!)
“And listen to me. Are you listening to me? Don’t bother sending a driver tomorrow or the day after. I AM FIRING YOU!!!”
Both the driver and Pervez are listening in apparent amazement.
“OK, it is twenty-seven dollars Madam,” says Mr. Dispatcher.
“Fine.” I toss the cell phone back at the driver, pull out the money and brusquely hand it to him. I almost dropped it on the ground, but I restrained myself.
I turn to walk back into the house with Pervez.
“Was I wrong Pervez?”
“Not at all. I was wondering what took you so long and why you were so polite!”
“It’s an American thing, I think. You’re right – I was too nice.”
I enter the little drawing room where the tea party is going on.
“Is everything OK? DH asks.
“Fine. I fired them.”
“Good!” says DD.
Pervez offers to set us up with a driver tomorrow. I have no idea whether this is going to work out, but at this point, we’re nearing the end of our trip and I am worn out from the haggling. It’s nice to have someone else make the arrangements for once.
“Great. Excellent. Can he be here tomorrow at 10?”
“No problem. If there is anything else I can help with, let me know.”
“Actually there is,” DD says. “I am starving. Is there a good restaurant nearby?”
“You can go to Friends Colony Community Center. There are some restaurants there.”
“How far?” I ask.
“It’s a bit of a walk, but not too, too far, or you can go to the end of the road and get a taxi or rickshaw there.”
We decide to get a rickshaw instead of walking. We are tired.
We wander out to the main road, but there is just one cycle rickshaw there, with room only for two, and there are three of us.
“You want rickshaw?” the elderly skinny little driver asks. He is dressed in a dhoti and slip-on sandals, a suit jacket and turban.
“Yes, but we need another one.”
“No problem, I take you all. Fifty Rupees.”
“But there is just room for two,” I say. And with our ample derrieres, it’s going to be crowded on that seat even with just a couple of us.
“One sits here,” he points to his seat.
“But where will you sit?” DH asks the driver.
“It’s not far. I don’t need to sit.”
So DD takes the cycle seat, facing backwards and DH and I cram our butts into the “two-person” passenger seat. The little guy takes off and DD grabs our arms so she doesn’t fall off the rickshaw. She has nothing to hold on to and we are moving like the wind! OMG, this guy is strong! He is peddling standing up and dragging at least 5 times his own weight. Absolutely impressive.
We get to Friends Colony Community Center in a flash.
He offers to wait and take us back, which is great!
We opt for dinner at the Yum-Yum Tree, a Chinese place, and it turns out to be an excellent dinner. Maybe it’s because it’s so late and we are so hungry, but everything tastes delicious. We start with crispy fired okra and some dim sum for an appetizer. Manhattans all around -- it has been a tough day! DD has spinach soup and mock duck. DH has wonton soup and Peking duck. I have roasted duck and udon noodle soup (ducks are having a bad night with us!) and sea bass with garlic sauce. For dessert, jasmine tea, and we share some sesame ice cream, chocolate shortbread cookies and a pomegranate martini mousse with a pomegranate rum sauce. About $120 for the night – a tad on the expensive side, but we thought it was worth it. The staff was very attentive and the service was excellent. On our way out, they gifted me with a luscious box of chocolates. Yum, yum!
Sure enough, the cycle rickshaw driver is patiently waiting for us, even though it has gotten really late (we closed out the restaurant). We climb back on, but the ride back is much longer – the roads are one way, so to get back to the B&B we have to circle all the way around the colony to get back. The driver is starting to slow down – I am hoping our now even more abundant mass won’t kill him before we get back. I am still absolutely amazed at what these guys do. We give him a huge tip – 50 Rs (about a buck) is just not enough for his feat!
Next morning we enjoy a lovely breakfast around a big table where we meet a charming young American couple who have just arrived and ready to embark on their own Indian odyssey. Their plans sound great. Pervez joins us. We are waited on by his elderly mother Padma, who continually keeps our plates filled with parathas and pakoras. Pervez is a great conversationalist and very funny, and we laugh a lot. He has arranged a car and sightseeing day for us, which turned out better than we ever could have expected. We start at Humayun’s Tomb, which is the precursor to the Taj, and which I actually like better, because it is quieter (and maybe because the fog here is not as dense). Then we go over to the Crafts Museum, which has some interesting exhibits and an amazing textile collection (if you like that sort of thing – which I happen to – DH not so much).
Next we stop at the India Gate, which is overflowing with people and street merchants selling little mechanical toys, balloons and bangles. DD decides to get her hand hennaed. We get taken, and we know it, and the crowd around us is shocked at the price we are paying – the stupid, white tourist price, no doubt – but the henna is very detailed and looks great, so she’s happy. We drive up the Rajpath past the government buildings – an amazing site in and of itself. Bleachers are being set up in preparation for Independence Day coming up on January 26th.
After lunch at a non-descript tourist place we drive into Old Delhi. It’s massively crowded and it takes forever to weave through the old city streets. We visit Jami Masjid – the largest mosque in India – DD is getting quite a few stares here and lots of sneak photos taken. It’s amusing how the teenagers (and some not so young) sidle up and pretend they are with you while their friends snap photos with their cell phones. Our photos are now stored on phones all over India! We need a restroom, and we are directed by the sock-seller to the bottom of the steps to the left side of the mosque. There is nothing there but a huge set of double iron doors. We shrug at each other and I knock. The door opens a crack.
“Toilet?” I ask.
The door opens wider and we are invited in by a youngish man who points toward a door.
DD goes in first and DH and I sit on a bench in the courtyard.
Three little girls in various stages of undress come wandering out of a tiny room next to the toilet room. They begin to dance around us, smiling and tipping their heads coyly.
Their mother calls to them – they are supposed to be getting ready for their bath – but they continue to dance and hum and ignore her calls.
Mum finally comes out with her hands on her hips and scolds them to come in. The littlest one stays behind and continues staring and smiling at us, stark naked, and finally Dad, the young man who answered the gate, comes out and calls to her and she reluctantly and slowly skips in for her bath.
BTW, the toilet is pretty clean, but the bowl has foot treads on it, even though it is a foot and a half off the ground. Do people really get up there and squat? I guess so!
After wandering the lanes around the mosque and Chandni Chowk, we finish our day of sightseeing at the Red Fort. It must have been quite the place in its day – gorgeous marble inlay, much like the Taj. Very pleasant to stroll around here for a couple of hours.
For our evening pleasure we find a movie theater on Connaught Place and see the new Aamir Khan pic Ghajini. Man, that guy is built! Wow, what an 8-pack! Anyway, I digress – it was a fabulous way to end a jam-packed day.
Our last day in India has sadly arrived. We’ve loved it – even the difficult parts – and we are both sad and happy to be going home. We have breakfast around the big round table again with the young Americans, who report having had a great day of Delhi sightseeing yesterday, and a newly arrived older couple from New Zealand. Peter is returning to India after many years, and Teresa is here for the first time. I don’t know what Peter does for a living, but Teresa says she teaches meditation. Hmmm. I think she’s going to have a great time in India!
After packing for the final time, we say our goodbyes to Pervez and the Delhi B&B. It turned out to be a nice respite at the end of our trip. The driver picks us up and we make a couple more stops before the airport: the Lotus Temple (which I find somewhat creepy) and the Qutb Complex – the perfect end to a fantastic holiday. My photo card is full, so it’s really time to go.
Kingfisher wings us off to Mumbai, where we board our flight back to the USA. In spite of the chaos of India, I know I am returning home with a new sense of balance.
Thanks to those who have stuck with me and followed my stories. If it’s not obvious, I left India with an immediate desire to return.
Now the only question is: when?!!
For those interested here are some of my photos – best viewed in slideshow, set the seconds as desired:
http://picasaweb.google.com/Christys...ztxvOJtrOMwAE#
#94
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Your writing is only surpassed by your amazing photography. Loved it. It reminded me of Cambodia in places. What kind of a camera did you use? We just returned from Tanzania and were not able to take photos of people very often. Did you have any problems? Did you take them on the sly, or did you pay them? I am really excited now and think that this will probably be the best trip yet!
Thanks for all the info.
Thanks for all the info.
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Travelaw, thanks for giving me many minutes of vicarious enjoyment. I read the Mumbai (which we are visiting shortly) part a while ago and just came back to finish up. Very generous of you to have put so much effort into it. Luckily, the best trip reports live on to entertain and inform others for months, maybe years. Your use of people's quotes really beings eaach episode to life. You may be a lawyer but you have the sensibilty of a journalist.
Leslie
Leslie
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Thanks so much live42day and LAleslie! You are both so nice and I appreciate your very kind comments.
Live, I used a Panasonic TZ50. Its a small camera with a great wideangle/telephoto lens. This was the first trip that I used it -- actually, it is my first digital camera ever. I really like film for its depth, but it has just gotten too expensive to develop the film, and its so much easier to share photos with digital. The nice thing about this camera is that you can fit it in your pocket, so it doesn't draw attention and yet has a long enough lens that you can get great close-ups. So, no, I did not pay for any of these photos -- they were all taken on the sly. I LOVE people shots and try to get as many as I can get away with -- and I try very hard not to disturb anyone by doing it.
Leslie, I hope you have a great time in Mumbai! We really liked it and hope to go back again soon. Thanks for your journalist comment. If I hadn't gone to law school, I would have loved being a journalist -- it is so much more interesting to write about travel than legal documents!!! If I could travel all the time, I would!
Live, I used a Panasonic TZ50. Its a small camera with a great wideangle/telephoto lens. This was the first trip that I used it -- actually, it is my first digital camera ever. I really like film for its depth, but it has just gotten too expensive to develop the film, and its so much easier to share photos with digital. The nice thing about this camera is that you can fit it in your pocket, so it doesn't draw attention and yet has a long enough lens that you can get great close-ups. So, no, I did not pay for any of these photos -- they were all taken on the sly. I LOVE people shots and try to get as many as I can get away with -- and I try very hard not to disturb anyone by doing it.
Leslie, I hope you have a great time in Mumbai! We really liked it and hope to go back again soon. Thanks for your journalist comment. If I hadn't gone to law school, I would have loved being a journalist -- it is so much more interesting to write about travel than legal documents!!! If I could travel all the time, I would!
#97
Well, I loved the report. Lots of kudos for the way you traveled. But I was upset to read "they were all taken on the sly". I don't like to have my photo taken, and I try hard to respect other people's feelings in the matter. Except for general street scenes, I ask first, and if the answer is no, I don't take the photo (and I don't pay, either).
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Glad you liked the report thursdaysd, but sorry to upset you so about my photography. I respect your feelings on taking people's photos, but I respectfully disagree that one should always ask before taking someone's photo. I never take a person's photo if they are in a compromising position -- and there were plenty of opportunities for that on this trip -- and quite frankly, it is not my intention to invade a person's privacy. The reality is, a person does not have a right to privacy when they are in public. Moreover, I feel that I cannot capture the essence of what I am seeing with posed vs. candid shots. There are a few posed shots in this set, but they are not my favorites. That said, I understand your thoughts and hope that we can agree to disagree respectfully on this issue.
Thanks for reading!
Thanks for reading!
#99
Thanks for the reply. I agree that in the US it is legally correct that "a person does not have a right to privacy when they are in public". However, you weren't in the US, you were in a country were very many people have no choice but to live their lives in public whether they want to or not. Also, attitudes towards photography vary by culture. I was just in Morocco, where photographing women in particular is not generally acceptable. It's true that candid shots are better than posed, but I don't think that's a good enough reason to go against the wishes of your subject.
I'm also aware that with the proliferation of cell phones and compact camcorders, my dislike of being photographed is becoming decidedly old-fashioned - I might have to start wearing a burkha!
I'm also aware that with the proliferation of cell phones and compact camcorders, my dislike of being photographed is becoming decidedly old-fashioned - I might have to start wearing a burkha!
#100
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I think you are coming down on me too hard. Most of the areas we visited in India were well-worn travel destinations, and I believe most people realize that there are bound to be people with cameras taking photos in these areas. And, I am not aware of any law in any country that provides people a right of privacy in public -- if there were I would certainly abide by it. In fact, I must assume, given the number of times MY photo was taken in India and in Nepal by locals with cell phones just because I am white, means that even the locals don't believe there is a right to privacy in public. That said, I agree there are cultures where photography of people is not acceptable -- the Amish in the USA for instance, and yes, women in Morocco -- which I honor each time I am in that country. People are everywhere with camcorders and cell phone cameras and it is impossible to ask the subjects for permission to take their photo -- that's all I'd be doing on my trip if I did. I haven't done a search on this, but have you expressed this opinion to others who have posted their photos here? I didn't see you express any concern about privacy cocnerning people in the lovely videos of Boudhnath currently on this forum. Should that photographer have asked all those people for permission to shoot the video? Would it be permissible for me to take video and then capture single shots from the footage? In fact, I would bet that you yourself have many photos with people in them that you did not ask permission to take. So what is the difference from my photos? Because I took them in public at a distance with a long lens there is something wrong with that? When I take my photographs of places I visit, I find the people to be most compelling. Forts and buildings and even scenery are nice, but they are all made better with people in them. Places are about the people, not the buildings.
As to the burka, that is your choice. You might also avoid London and many other cities and countries,and most airports, because it is not camera-toting tourists that will be taking your photo, but the government. I wish you luck in staying private in public in this day and age!
As to the burka, that is your choice. You might also avoid London and many other cities and countries,and most airports, because it is not camera-toting tourists that will be taking your photo, but the government. I wish you luck in staying private in public in this day and age!