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Rishi »

Namaste!

Typed from Rishikesh, in the Uttarkhand province, where the hills rise up suddenly from the flat plains of northern india to form the start of the Himalayas. This is the village which George Harrison brought the other Beatles to in order to open their minds (and write the White Album!), though they eventually lost their faith in the spirituality of the place when faced with escalating money demands of their yogi. So it goes. As you can see from the hotel balcony - the environment is reason enough to come here, even if you feel your mind is open enough not to need the zillions of yoga classes on offer here. Rather go rafting, personally.

- the view from the balcony today - in stark contrast to our previous residences:

- our Delhi hostel - TV, shower and sofa + coffee table! luxury. Except when the electricity cuts out in the middle of the night and you wake up with rivulets of sweat pouring down your every nook & cranny. Fenton has once again left a mystery stain on the bedsheets. Must be a common feature to all his travels.

- the sleeper train. Not so bad, actually. Might smother my couchette with vicks vaporub next time though - tad smelly sometimes.

We arrived here having taken a sleeper train from Delhi Wednesday night after a crazy dash through the crumbling, traffic-gorged streets of old Delhi in two autorickshaws, getting on the train 5 minutes after it was due to leave (thank goodness the trains, like us, run on Delhi time, a local unoffical +20min timezone!) Not much sleep to be had on the sleeper, despite decent comfort and nice temperatures. I put it down to the constantly changing (interesting) scenery along the trip, the driver’s addiction to sounding the foghorn (like all drivers in India, for that matter - it gets used more frequently than both the indicator and the gearshift), and the men walking down the train every 20 minutes shouting ‘Tea! Coffee! Chai!’

Delhi is an interesting city, where India’s upwardly mobile youth - skinny jeans, bling, slick hair, westernised (but distinctly Hindi) music - come shoulder to shoulder with abject poverty. It’ll be interesting to see what happens should this dichotomy accentuate - which it seems likely to do, given the huge problem the government faces brining so many millions out of poverty whilst attempting to nurture growth of the other classes. As argued by Prospect several months ago, vast swathes of the Indian middle class seemingly lacks the will to contribute to a social program aimed at helping India’s poorest. The use of technology is fascinating, too - the ‘mobile phones’ you see in use of the street tend to be rows of satellite phones fixed to bike carts, like a mobile phonebox! No iPhones visible, despite its supposed availability in India.

The new Metro system is largely overlooked by the Lonely Planet guidebooks we’ve been using - we discovered it almost by chance, after an unsuccessful con was tried on us (and again the next day, by the same guy! what cheek!!) - it’s modern, built for capacity, much, much cleaner and more efficient than the London Underground; and it’s extremely cheap. Here’s a photo putting Delhi’s traffic problems in context - one can only hope uptake of tube services will grow exponentially. Indian traffic is MENTAL.

Delhi is also home to a seriously new-age temple of the Ba’hai faith (which Daz subscribes to). Set in the middle of huge, green grounds (in Delhi!), the moment of Zen walking around and sitting inside the huge hall was refreshing after a blackout night in the madhouse - though the smelly banter with an american Bah’ai convert in the Information Centre was not.

Also zen: the Red Fort, one of India’s most famous monuments

For an up to date gallery of the photos I’ve been taking on this trip, view the whole thing here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/philbradley/India#

As always, email us with your news - it’s good to know what’s going on back home, plus we may soon find we need other talking points than Katie’s voracious appetite for pizza.

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Before we left, despite common warnings of dodgy road behaviour I still wouldn't have expected that three weeks into our trip Indian driving would still shock, amaze, irritate and draw expletives from us - that it still does so ought to impress on you just how shite, mad and totally idiotic it really gets. It would be harsh to criticise road surface quality in a country as large, poor and cattle-infested as India, especially when as a group we've not always been on the major touristic circuits. And yet, after two days riding on Indian roads, it shocks me that nobody is doing anything about loose gravel left lying around on sharp corners after roadworks. I managed to spin out and deck my pissy little scooter (escaping with barely a scratch, thankfully) going out wide on a blind right-hander for precisely that reason. Why take it wide? will ask road veterans. You idiot, if you'd taken a 'racing line' you'd have been fine! they might protest. Why not keep your speed down? all very valid objections in a country where the Highway Code isn't rarer in bookstores than tourist-aimed copies of the Kama Sutra. But in India, corners are viewed...
Rishi
Rishikesh was a great post-Delhi break, worthy of its own post. Whereas Daz and Katie left yoga, the Beatles and the Ganges behind and moved on to Missouri, Tom and I ended up spending an extra night (total of 2) It hadn't started out great. Having finished up the previous post, we went out for the worst dinner we've had since getting to India. The "ice tea" we were served was foul - a murky brown colour and a taste to match. I hypothesised that someone had run down to the Ganges and scooped some up into a glass. The rest of the food was rubbish - and frequently had nothing to do with what was ordered. "Never order the Waldorf Salad!" had warned Tom, quoting Fawlty Towers. I found out why when 'it' arrived - the dish I was eventually served, I believe, was a WonTon Soup. Even the amazing location of the restaurant - a platform built over a cliff-face with the Ganges 30m below - couldn't make up for just how bad the meal was. A beer (Kingfisher) cost as much as a night's stay for 2 people in our hotel. The next day (as Daz and...
A-nyhao!
Bad pun, I know. Nihao y'all. It seems we've been enjoying our Chinese leg so much, blogging about it has taken a dramatic back seat - time for a little update. After a long, empty flight (stretched out on rows of seats we had to ourselves) via misty Hong Kong we landed in Beijing just as the sun was setting. The modernity and cleanliness of Beijing airport left us stunned & excited - and heralded the stark contrast between China and India, which we had greatly underestimated. The immediate difference is in wealth - Beijing's streets are awash with pretty women, sparkling Audi's, glittering skyscrapers, highly fashionable clothes shops, hairdressers (ugh) and shopping malls (ugh^2). The 2008 Olympics still echo everywhere - products proudly proclaim their endorsements, posters still line the streets, public transport is efficient and obsessively clean, the mascots are still all over the state-run TV programmes, and security is tight and well-drilled at all the recently renovated tourist spots (in a few cases over-renovated, losing some of the authenticity that's so vital to the enjoyment of a visit to an ancient relic of China's immense cultural baggage - though it does make for nice photos!). There's no...

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This entry was posted on Thursday, September 4th, 2008 at 3:11 pm and is filed under Culture bucket, Lifestream. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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