So having reached Istanbul (which surely cannot be more than a mere stones throw away from home) I ambled in a North West direction in an effort to find my way back to London ...
First stop - Bulgaria - When I arrived in Turkey I realised for the first time in 2 months that women had bums - those in Pakistan and Iran were always well covered up with something loose - then when I arrived in Bulgaria I found out how they were meant to be wiggled : excessively, and always in tight denim!
And then there was the food... There are two types of mass Bulgarian fodder - Pizza and kebab! There was other decent fare though, not all western stuff but delicious and very cheap (and it is great to have chips once in a while); and mounds of delicious ice cream; and very cheap beer which for the first in time this year wasnt just wishy washy lager, no, they were good dark beers just a little like english beer. It was almost like coming home - if I wasnt so tired I might have stayed longer and enjoyed more of the other attractions like majestic castles, everlasting evergreen forests and loads of Roman ruins ...
According to the locals, Soviet Communism was accepted without a whimper, many people were sad to see it start to collapse in 1989, and many now mourn its passing. Unemployment rules, and the evidence in the form of discarded factories, is scattered everywhere. The Soviet era huge 'motivational' statues still govern the country(side) - the people here didnt rush to pull them down; there must a reason for that - reminders of better times perhaps?
Romania - was a bit similar to Bulgaria except that here just about everyone seemed obsessed with making money - ok so they dont have much but the attitude seems so 'desperate' and the people have a sense of sadness about them.
Fashion - In both these countries the peasant look is still very much 'in' as is working huge fields by hand - the occasional tractor is a real luxury in these parts.
Castles - Fairytale stuff - surrounded by a small Medieval village and a huge amount of forest.
But here they also have:
Transalvania - Home of fairytale castles (yes more of them) and Vlad the Impaler who became Count Dracula (in literature at least).
Pickpockets - When I arrived in Brasov by train I was warned 3 times before I even managed to get off the station platform not to take the bus cos there were pickpockets (so of course I took the bus). It wasnt until I was on the same bus a couple of days later that anyone tried to slip his hand into my pocket. So I got up and yelled at him - unfortunately the bus was too packed for me to move but he got off a couple of stops later. Cant say I wasnt warned.
Free beer - some hostels give you free beer every night you stay there - and free laundry too (I'm not sure if these two are connected).
Hungary
A bit richer than the first two countries - I could tell that as soon as I crossed the border by the sudden and excessive increase in the size of the women - not many hungry people here.
Budapest is a great place though - spacious, full of interesting things and easy to get about. Cheap food (fatty and unhealthy though) including goulash which aint all that - and cheap beer (difficult to escape in this part of the world).
Slovakia
Mmmmm - seems like a spare bit of Europe which nobody knew what to do with - so they made it independent. Poor. Unfortunately at the weekends the pocket hankerchief size old town in Bratislava gets overrun with English stag nights - cos the beers cheap - I cant imagine the intruders know or care where they really are:
'Where are we going?'
'The continent.'
'Where abouts?'
'The beers cheap!'
'OK.'
Czech (Republic)
Endless Everlasting Evergreen forests.
Fairytale castles.
Cheap Beer.
Is it all beginning to sound a bit familiar. Surely it will get a bit tiring travelling through places where the beer is cheaper than cola and almost as cheap as water. Certainly the quality of sleep has gone down as a result.
Since Czech was relatively unravaged by war (at least physically) the ancient towns and castles are almost perfect in their prettyvalleys albeit now surrounded by Soviet era housing blocs (sic) - the associated statues have long since been tumbled. And Prague is the jewel: but it is now packed with zillions of tourists as a result - glad I am not here in high season. Time to leave I think.
As I have headed further west the prices have risen, the quality has got better (no squat toilets here) and the number of dormitories increased. And the average age of those sharing the dormitory has tumbled ... such is life in Europe.
AT the start I did mutter that I would be back by the end of May so I am heading home. Kathmandu to London overland - well to here at least. Yes, it would have been quicker and cheaper by plane but then I would have missed the chance to be bundled into a Police station, had a gun pointed at me by a terrorist demanding money, have my daysac slashed and somebody try to pick my pocket! At least I have avoided the airline food.
Every country this trip has challenged my preconceptions. It is all too easy to soak up the media image of what is just a gaudily coloured blob on a map surrounded by a thick black line. Talking to the locals reveals a different and inevitably more hospitable angle. People were friendliest where I expected them to challenge me. Each country offered up the unexpected. And dull moments? A rarity.
And just for the sake of it - some awards the those most/least deserving:
Most hospitable people - Iran and Pakistan - impossible to split them.
Worst driving - Iran (although India and Pakistan made a decent effort)
Most dangerous activity - Crossing the road in Tehran (although sleeping in bus stations in Iran wasnt far behind)
Most dangerous moment - Either
A Nepali Maoist pulling out a gun when I declined to contribute to his cause - 'I was only joking mate - here's some cash.'
Or
The remnants of the December Tsunami invading a restaurant where we were eating dinner in Goa.
Or
Every time I ventured out to cross the road in Tehran.
Luckiest location - Goa being on the West side of India rather than the east.
Most Amazing Occurance - Being given a free lift out of the desert for 4 hours - by a TAXI DRIVER.
Most stupid thought - thinking it wouldnt be cold once I left the Himalayas. Wrong it was bloody freezing in loads of places!
Best discovery - A shop selling Weetabix in Pakistan.
Best Food - India! Curry night is every night!
Worst Food - Having to survive on disgustingly sweet cream filled sandwich biscuits for 24 hours when I ran out of food on the 'should have been one day but took two' train across the desert in Pakistan (and of course nowhere to buy food).
Longest wait - The Iran visa aside - 18 hours for a train in India.
Most stupid assumption - That the train would be on time
Most photogenic people - Natives of Western Nepal.
Most Life Changing Experience - the ashram in India.
And that's about it - back home by the end of May (just) - see you soon... Anyone want any travel tips?
Love
Pete
Wednesday 1 June 2005
Wednesday 4 May 2005
Where 34 - Istanbul, Turkey --OR-- How to Get Dragged into a Police Station in Iran
HI Everyone
So one moment I was sleeping in bus stations and the next I was being entertained in Tehran with a whole 3 bed appartment to myself - I mean 3 toilets should be enough for any self respecting traveller. This was all courtesy of an Iranian family I met in the desert and very kind of them it was as well (it is normally rented out but it was between rentals). And there was a swimming pool, saune, jacuzzi and steam room in the basement as well but no-one else used it so I had that to myself as well. So a bit of luxury living - but of course nothing is permanent and so after dodging the traffic for a few days and admiring the anti-american murals on the walls of the old US embassy (now Iranian occupied - remember those hostages) I realised that the days remaining on my Iranian visa were well into single digits and so headed NW towards Turkey.
That was not without incident - how could it be. I had just stopped in a town for a night to see what would have been the most important tomb in Iran ... except that they didnt actually entomb the guy that they were supposed to in it. Not that it was a mistake - the tomb was meant for one of the Immans (Shiite followers of Mohammad) but during construction the guy who financed it converted to Sunni Islam and so the deal was off so he was buried in it himself. It is being restored but in what is one of the largest domes in the world there is currently (probably) the largest collection of indoor scaffolding in the world - so I got to see not-a-lot. It was while I was planning my way out of this town that some guy on a motorbike comes up to me says he is a police officer (not in uniform) and asks to see my passport. I didnt believe him and my passport was held by my hotel reception in any case. So I was on the point of telling him to sod off but first I asked to see his ID - he didnt bother showing me any. Instead - and I thought rather cunningly cos this was not something that I had expected - he just whistles up a few uniformed officers who escorted me, by the arm, rather briskly in to a nearby police station reminding me that Iran is not a free country in any sense of the word. The room was packed with police; the plain clothes guy seemed to be in charge and he was intent on looking through all my stuff - although what he was lookiing for I have no idea. Fortunately the only suspicious thing I was carring was some green tea in a small plastic bag - and it did look suspicious. But clearly he wasnt looking for green tea and after a quick listen to my walkman they let me go and even gave me a tourist leaflet for the surrounding area! I left pretty soon after that.
So after a month in Iran I headed into Turkey. En route I saw Mount Arrarat where Noahs Ark was said to have come to rest yeah yeah yeah. But let me tell you that it is one impressive mountain (actually it is two volcanic peaks (the highest one at just over 5000m)) and all covered in snow. Between the peaks is a beatiful curve which is almost exactly boat shaped - Wow what an incredible coincidence that is.
Now we all know Turkey is a hot country. I wish! Eastern Turkey is not only nowhere near the Med. but it is bloody freezing as well. When the sun was out it was ok and having packed my boots at the bottom of my bag I wasnt gonna get them out again for a walk around town. So there I was in my sandals pretending that it really isnt that cold and walking up the hill to the fort in Kars when it hailed really heavily and everything turned white - including my feet which were so cold I couldnt walk down properly - and I was soaked - great fun; yeah, I love Turkey!
But at least after 2 months of being in no alcohol countries (in Iran it is illegal (though I was given alcohol a couple of times) and in Pakistan you need to get a licence to buy the stuff) they serve stuff called beer here. But it is cold and my feet are already freezing, so attractive it is not. About as attractive as most of the Eastern Bloc style blocks of flats which themselves are indistinguishable from the clouds on a very grey, damp and drab day. You get the picture - I'm not staying here long; in fact I was just about to leave when a local guy shouted through the freezing wind 'You know this is the coldest city in Turkey'. Yeah, thanks.
So after visiting the few interesting sites in Eastern Turkey which werent closed due to the weather or lack of tourists, I headed west to Cappadocia in the desert of central Turkey where the temperature swing between summer and winter in about 70 C (-30 to +40) so the people sleep in caves, fairy chimneys (cones formed by erosion of soft volcanic ash around a hard stone causing a cone with the hard stone on top protecting it) and in deep underground cities (the one I visited went down 8 floors). It was hot during the day and at night I slept in a cave where the temperature was a pretty constant 'not too cold'. From there to the even warmer places of Pamukkale (white terraces formed by hot water depositing calcium over thousands of years). The Romans built a big city at the top of the terraces and used them responsibly for thousands of years. The Turks exploited them during the 1970s and 1980s and virtually ruined them - the Turkish mentality is not quite up to that of the Romans. Then to Selchuk and Ephesus - more fantastic Roman ampitheatres, libraries etc etc. And the Temple of Artemis/Diane which was one of the 7 Wonders of the World - these days there is just one column left of this wonder and unfortunately it is made much more interesting every time the stork which nests at the top of it returns. Ancient Wonders just arent what they used to be! Maybe that is the point.
And then Istanbul. A city split into 3 parts (by water) which spreads into 2 continents and once the centre of a huge empire. It isnt as bad as I though it might be - the centre is neat clean and touristy (and most of the rest I havent seen). It has marvelous mosques, old churches which were converted into mosques until they realised that they could make more money by calling them museums and charging people to go in. Anything that is not over 500 years old is 'new'. Nothing is ordinary and the dome of Aya Sofya makes St Pauls in London look pedestrian and the work of a conservative architect, despite St Pauls being built over 1,000 years after. There is plenty of magic here - not a place to ignore. And they do do great kebabs!
Unfortunately not everything runs smoothly as it did in Roman times and more than once I have felt that the Turks really are not responsible enough to run their own country. I expect disorganisation as standard in places like India but Turkey is relatively rich with high prices and loads of infrastructure including the cleanest buses I have ever seen - but they cannot organise a queue to save their lives unless they personally are making money out of it - I am only glad I am not here in high season.
So after suffering the shock of arriving in Turkey to find prices 3 to 5 times what they have been for the first 6 months of my trip, and having now adjusted, I am heading to Eastern Europe in a bid to get back to London via Bulgaria, Rumania, Hungary ... etc.
So changing the subject slightly ... long time addressees will remember travel teds Tiny Ted and Short Giraffe who have kept me company for these travels. I will leave them to explain in an excert from their own travel diary:
'On the way to Turkey we saw Nose Peaks which are two peaks shaped like ted bears' noses. A long time ago it was such a popular picnic place for teds to go that they built an ark there which was a wooden building teds could sleep in at night. Then one day it suddenly started to rain really heavily when everyone was picnicing and all the teds had to rush inside - but there was a design fault in the ark, they had made the doors too small, so they could only get in two by two and some teds got very wet. It was fixed by next morning but it became known as the rains of the Faulty Day and Faulty Night. Next day the sun came out and they celebrated with a huge picnic of biblical proportions and they dove into a small pool that had formed, swung from branches and ate olives. It was very famous and the teds wrote about it, but a sliver of marmalade got stuck to the paper and it came out as 'great flood' instead of 'great food' and many people got all confused. And that's the real story of Nose Ark.'
In fact Turkey is Tiny Teds 49th country he has been to and we are going to have a special picnic when we get to the next country cos it will be his 50th! - and he is not even 5 years old yet. We think it will be Bulgaria which is good cos we have a Great Uncle called Bulgaria (who now lives in Wimbledon).'
Me again - So I have at least made it back to Europe and might make it back to England in about a month ...
Love
Ankur/Pete
So one moment I was sleeping in bus stations and the next I was being entertained in Tehran with a whole 3 bed appartment to myself - I mean 3 toilets should be enough for any self respecting traveller. This was all courtesy of an Iranian family I met in the desert and very kind of them it was as well (it is normally rented out but it was between rentals). And there was a swimming pool, saune, jacuzzi and steam room in the basement as well but no-one else used it so I had that to myself as well. So a bit of luxury living - but of course nothing is permanent and so after dodging the traffic for a few days and admiring the anti-american murals on the walls of the old US embassy (now Iranian occupied - remember those hostages) I realised that the days remaining on my Iranian visa were well into single digits and so headed NW towards Turkey.
That was not without incident - how could it be. I had just stopped in a town for a night to see what would have been the most important tomb in Iran ... except that they didnt actually entomb the guy that they were supposed to in it. Not that it was a mistake - the tomb was meant for one of the Immans (Shiite followers of Mohammad) but during construction the guy who financed it converted to Sunni Islam and so the deal was off so he was buried in it himself. It is being restored but in what is one of the largest domes in the world there is currently (probably) the largest collection of indoor scaffolding in the world - so I got to see not-a-lot. It was while I was planning my way out of this town that some guy on a motorbike comes up to me says he is a police officer (not in uniform) and asks to see my passport. I didnt believe him and my passport was held by my hotel reception in any case. So I was on the point of telling him to sod off but first I asked to see his ID - he didnt bother showing me any. Instead - and I thought rather cunningly cos this was not something that I had expected - he just whistles up a few uniformed officers who escorted me, by the arm, rather briskly in to a nearby police station reminding me that Iran is not a free country in any sense of the word. The room was packed with police; the plain clothes guy seemed to be in charge and he was intent on looking through all my stuff - although what he was lookiing for I have no idea. Fortunately the only suspicious thing I was carring was some green tea in a small plastic bag - and it did look suspicious. But clearly he wasnt looking for green tea and after a quick listen to my walkman they let me go and even gave me a tourist leaflet for the surrounding area! I left pretty soon after that.
So after a month in Iran I headed into Turkey. En route I saw Mount Arrarat where Noahs Ark was said to have come to rest yeah yeah yeah. But let me tell you that it is one impressive mountain (actually it is two volcanic peaks (the highest one at just over 5000m)) and all covered in snow. Between the peaks is a beatiful curve which is almost exactly boat shaped - Wow what an incredible coincidence that is.
Now we all know Turkey is a hot country. I wish! Eastern Turkey is not only nowhere near the Med. but it is bloody freezing as well. When the sun was out it was ok and having packed my boots at the bottom of my bag I wasnt gonna get them out again for a walk around town. So there I was in my sandals pretending that it really isnt that cold and walking up the hill to the fort in Kars when it hailed really heavily and everything turned white - including my feet which were so cold I couldnt walk down properly - and I was soaked - great fun; yeah, I love Turkey!
But at least after 2 months of being in no alcohol countries (in Iran it is illegal (though I was given alcohol a couple of times) and in Pakistan you need to get a licence to buy the stuff) they serve stuff called beer here. But it is cold and my feet are already freezing, so attractive it is not. About as attractive as most of the Eastern Bloc style blocks of flats which themselves are indistinguishable from the clouds on a very grey, damp and drab day. You get the picture - I'm not staying here long; in fact I was just about to leave when a local guy shouted through the freezing wind 'You know this is the coldest city in Turkey'. Yeah, thanks.
So after visiting the few interesting sites in Eastern Turkey which werent closed due to the weather or lack of tourists, I headed west to Cappadocia in the desert of central Turkey where the temperature swing between summer and winter in about 70 C (-30 to +40) so the people sleep in caves, fairy chimneys (cones formed by erosion of soft volcanic ash around a hard stone causing a cone with the hard stone on top protecting it) and in deep underground cities (the one I visited went down 8 floors). It was hot during the day and at night I slept in a cave where the temperature was a pretty constant 'not too cold'. From there to the even warmer places of Pamukkale (white terraces formed by hot water depositing calcium over thousands of years). The Romans built a big city at the top of the terraces and used them responsibly for thousands of years. The Turks exploited them during the 1970s and 1980s and virtually ruined them - the Turkish mentality is not quite up to that of the Romans. Then to Selchuk and Ephesus - more fantastic Roman ampitheatres, libraries etc etc. And the Temple of Artemis/Diane which was one of the 7 Wonders of the World - these days there is just one column left of this wonder and unfortunately it is made much more interesting every time the stork which nests at the top of it returns. Ancient Wonders just arent what they used to be! Maybe that is the point.
And then Istanbul. A city split into 3 parts (by water) which spreads into 2 continents and once the centre of a huge empire. It isnt as bad as I though it might be - the centre is neat clean and touristy (and most of the rest I havent seen). It has marvelous mosques, old churches which were converted into mosques until they realised that they could make more money by calling them museums and charging people to go in. Anything that is not over 500 years old is 'new'. Nothing is ordinary and the dome of Aya Sofya makes St Pauls in London look pedestrian and the work of a conservative architect, despite St Pauls being built over 1,000 years after. There is plenty of magic here - not a place to ignore. And they do do great kebabs!
Unfortunately not everything runs smoothly as it did in Roman times and more than once I have felt that the Turks really are not responsible enough to run their own country. I expect disorganisation as standard in places like India but Turkey is relatively rich with high prices and loads of infrastructure including the cleanest buses I have ever seen - but they cannot organise a queue to save their lives unless they personally are making money out of it - I am only glad I am not here in high season.
So after suffering the shock of arriving in Turkey to find prices 3 to 5 times what they have been for the first 6 months of my trip, and having now adjusted, I am heading to Eastern Europe in a bid to get back to London via Bulgaria, Rumania, Hungary ... etc.
So changing the subject slightly ... long time addressees will remember travel teds Tiny Ted and Short Giraffe who have kept me company for these travels. I will leave them to explain in an excert from their own travel diary:
'On the way to Turkey we saw Nose Peaks which are two peaks shaped like ted bears' noses. A long time ago it was such a popular picnic place for teds to go that they built an ark there which was a wooden building teds could sleep in at night. Then one day it suddenly started to rain really heavily when everyone was picnicing and all the teds had to rush inside - but there was a design fault in the ark, they had made the doors too small, so they could only get in two by two and some teds got very wet. It was fixed by next morning but it became known as the rains of the Faulty Day and Faulty Night. Next day the sun came out and they celebrated with a huge picnic of biblical proportions and they dove into a small pool that had formed, swung from branches and ate olives. It was very famous and the teds wrote about it, but a sliver of marmalade got stuck to the paper and it came out as 'great flood' instead of 'great food' and many people got all confused. And that's the real story of Nose Ark.'
In fact Turkey is Tiny Teds 49th country he has been to and we are going to have a special picnic when we get to the next country cos it will be his 50th! - and he is not even 5 years old yet. We think it will be Bulgaria which is good cos we have a Great Uncle called Bulgaria (who now lives in Wimbledon).'
Me again - So I have at least made it back to Europe and might make it back to England in about a month ...
Love
Ankur/Pete
Wednesday 20 April 2005
Where 33 - Tehran, Iran --OR-- Why Danger in Iran Really is Hillman Hunter Shaped
HI Everyone from the Headquarters of the Axis of Evil ... where death really does lurk around every corner.
Before ... I was in Quetta, Pakistan over 600km from the Iranian border and just about to on get a train ...
The twice monthly train left at midday - except of course that it didn't. There was a 3-hour wait which ended when some important looking plain clothes policeman came on board to check my passport - apparently having it checked by ordinary policeman was insufficient. I wasn't aware that the train was waiting because of me (ıt left as soon as I had my passport checked), but no-one seemed very bothered - there were only 3 other passengers (all locals) so we all had loads of room to lay around. Disasterously they had only brought one prayer mat between them which they had to share in rotation so prayer-time 5-times a day lasted about an hour each time. They had to face mecca each time but luckily they didnt have to keep moving it cos the track was dead straight all the way! Most Pakistanis are religious, do pray and wished they lived in a 'proper' Islamic state like Iran.
We crossed flat desert and more flat desert. Surprisingly the track had been washed away by heavy rains and had only just been repaired so progress was very slow especially across the bit where one guy was ankle deep in water next to the track holding a green flag presumably ready to change it to red if the track started to slip. I didnt really expect the train to be on time. It was due to arrive at the border at about midday the next day; it didnt make it there at midday or that afternoon or that evening. I am told it got there at 5am the next morning (3rd day) but I was asleep. I could not be bothered to wait for the whole train and goods wagons to clear the border and carry on so I got off and went across on foot, into Iran...
Now we all know that Iran is a dangerous place full of hard line Islamic Iranians who will happily lynch a foreigner especially if they are from USA or UK. However,this may not be entirely true - in fact nothing could be further from the truth. However, there are a few things you should know about Iran...
The Law!
In public it is illegal for:
- men (or women) to wear shorts (unless at a segregated swimming area or involved in sport - football seems to be the only sport which anyone actually plays)
- men to wear sleeveless tops
- women to wear short sleeves
- for females over 9 years old to take off their hejab or headscarf.
- women not to have a coat covering their bums
- males and females to hold hands unless they are married - occasional touching of shoulders appears to be tolerated though (men happily hold hands with other men and women with women)
- dance with opposite sex
- sing
- play music ...
In private it is still illegal (though that doesn't mean they dont happen) to:
- Drink alcohol
- gamble
- watch films with sex in
- have satellite TV
The penalty for a foreigner having sex with an Iranian women is death!
In reality:
- Iran is very westernised.
- Most Iranians hate the rules and are not actively religious (I didnt see a single prayer mat in Iran!)
- Many Iranians think the Islamic revolution in 1979 was a mistake.
- The mullahs (religious leaders who run the country) are effectively running a military dictatorship and are very corrupt.
- Bush and Blair are often well respected and many hope Bush does invade and kick out the present regime.
- The Iran Lonely Planet guidebook entry under 'Discos and Nightclubs' is very short and simply reads 'Dream on.' - Those things that are illegal in public are pretty much stuck to as there are loads of police around to enforce them.
- Whatever you can get away with in private is OK!
- Men and women are segregated on buses and are not allowed to sit next to each other unless related - although in a shared taxi or on a train no-one seems to care about that.
- Women allways have their heads covered in public (unless in a very deserted spot), 80% of women wear all black (less in Tehran) often black capes which they have to hold closed with their hands, or if they are carrying things, with their teeth!
- Many Iranians really believe that the current dictatorship was put in place by, and is under the control of, Great Britain!
So, it is a great irony that Iran is a very strict Islamic state, cos most Iranians are not even that religious.
I should mention at this point that there are 2 types of Iranians: Those driving cars and those not driving cars.
- Iranians driving cars
These are very dangerous people who will try not to stop at any time. Unfortunately Iran, and Tehran in particular, is full of cars and hence Iran and Tehran are very dangerous places to be. Every time I crossed the street in Tehran I knew I was taking my life in my hands - basically you have to use the 'Saigon method' (dont look just walk and presume/hope/pray that everythýng will miss you). This works in Saigon (Vietnam) with motorcycles which can easily swerve around you at the last moment and almost always do. However in Tehran they have cars which are wide and do not swerve round you at any moment. So the only solution is to walk straight into the road (there is no point in stoppýng at the kerb cos there will never be a gap) and walk straight across, giving the impression that you are not going to stop for anything and havent even looked to see whats coming, whilst being confident in the knowledge that the cars heading for you MIGHT stop, and of course keeping an eye out for the car that comes hammering round the corner and is not going to stop/couldnt stop in time anyway, so you can jump out of the way at the last moment. I have seen more accidents in Iran in a month than in the rest of my life. Everyone drives like this. Iran is a dangerous place!
- Iranians not driving cars
These people are incredibly friendly and will immediately sympathise with you about how bad the driving is. Then they will ask you where you are from and wonder what the hell you want to visit Iran for. Then they will show you tremendous hospitality which would be unheard of in the west including feeding you,paying for you and even let you stay in a spare apartment (with sauna and swimming pool etc ... more later).
So, I am in Iran and haven't been lynched (it isn't anythýng like what we are lead to believe in the media). There was some stuff to see:
- Bam - the first stop in Iran. This was hope to a beautiful mud city but in December 2003 it was flattened by a huge earthquake. A huge amount of aid flowed into the town from inside and outside of Iran but most of it seems to have 'disappeared' and the sad reality is that it looks as if the earhquake happened just one month ago. Most buildings were destoyed and the remaining ones look very wobbly but they have not been pulled down yet. Only a few small houses have been rebuilt and most people are still living in Red Crescent tents. The bazaar is a line of metal heavy goods containers - the doors are opened at one end and you have a shop.
- The Desert - Nearly every day in Iran I woke up to find that I was (once again) in a desert and surrounded by mountains, very hot durýng the day and cold at night. Parts of the desert are tediously featureless but other parts are incredibly interesting with oases, sand dunes carved by the wind, colourful rocks and date palms. And, when the wind stops blowing, peace.
- Persepolis - A city built 2,500 years ago although there is not so much there now. But it has a few buildings, columns, statues, stairways with carvings etc.
- Indoor Bazaars - Everytown has one and most claim to be hundreds of years old. They are nice not because of what they contain (they are just shops really) but because they are about the only place where there are no cars! However motorbikes get ridden through the often narrow passageways at high speed instead.
- Mosques - These were not in short supply and I could go on at some length about how incredible they all are. Many are 500 years or more old and are covered in mosaics tiles of brilliant colours, as bright as they were the day they were made, the arches describing beautiful shapes and reveal crisp stalactite mouldings ... I could go on but suffice to say that if you like blue tiles then you'll love them.
- Teahouses - Nearly always full of men smoking water pipes and occasionally drinking tea. Many of them are very old in superbly atmospheric underground caverns and one was even between the piers of a bridge not much above water level; unfortunately it was windy and so we did get a bit wet from time to time from the spray.
- No Ruz (New Year) - Unfortunately I ended up in Iran at the one time in the year when everyone (the locals) travels. The Persian calander is different to ours in terms of years, months, and days, but luckily they do have 7 days in a week. New Year is on 21 March except that this year it was actually on 20 March just after 4pm in the afternoon (it depends on the position of the sun). I was staying in a tiny village in the desert at the time - we all gathered round looking at the 7 things beginning with S (in Persian) to bring good luck for the next year and then suddenly it was new year! No alcohol, no party poppers, no Big Ben, no music, dancing or celebration. It just was New Year!
So Iran is a fascinating country full of interesting things and culture and really friendly people ...
...There are some annoying things though (apart from the laws and the driving):
- About 50% of cars are Paykans - replicas of Hillman Hunters, and nearly all are white, produce incredible pollution and are very inefficient (but petrol is only about 10 US cents (5p) a litre).
- The Iranian currency in the rial, which all banknotes are denominated in. However, Iranians nearly always quote prices in tuman (a tuman in 10 rials). This get more than a bit confusing cos I had to keep losing and adding a zero every time I spent any money - and off course unless you are careful you end up being charged 10 times more than you thought.
... And I did have some bad experiences:
The Bug - On the way back from a day in the dunes in the desert I was happily sitting in the back of a 4wd when I was suddenly bitten/stung, by something unknown, on my finger. It really hurt so we stopped the car and had a look to see what it was but could find nothing. We drove for another hour and by then it was still really painful, even though my finger had gone numb and my arm wasnt feeling great either. So we stopped at a very rural hospital and, cos they couldnt decide what it was either, ended up having 2 injection in my arms. And the Iranian Health Service? Basic - but I recovered.
The Razor - One of the biggest pains when travellýng is buses that arrive very early in the morning. In this case getting to Shiraz (where the wine grape originates - but of course it is illegal to make wine out of it here) all the bus companies left at 8pm so they could all get to Shiraz at 3.30am!!! Even the locals didnt know why. So having no choice I caught the bus and once in Shiraz decided to sleep at the bus station until it was light, locking my daysac to my backpack via a cable which secured the whole lot to a bench. I woke up to find a man leaning over my bags in a suspicious way so I yelled at him and he dissapeared. It was only when it got light that I found a razor blade which had been dropped on my bag and the handle of my daysac had been sliced through leaving me very close to having lost a lot of stuff. I didnt sleep in any bus stations after that!
The Lift - On the way back from the desert to reality I got a lift to a village where I was told the bus went at 3pm. It actually went at 1.30pm so I was left to try and hitch a lift or wait for a bus passing through. Hours passed and no buses came and no one willing to give me a lift - most of the cars were packed full of families on their way home from Mashad (holiest place in Iran). After 5 hours (8pm) it was dark and I was still looking at a 7 or 8 hour journey to get to my destination, I was slumped by the side of the road and had given up trying to get a lift when a taxi stopped in front of me. He asked me where I was going, I asked how much, but he said no charge. Unfortunately the small car (a Paykan of course) was already packed with his family and all their things (returning from Mashad). Car full, boot full. No problem, they took enough stuff from the boot to fit my backpack in, crammed themselves and their stuff into the back seat and I got in the front. I couldn,t believe how lucky I was after waiting that long. Then less than 100 metres down the road, it ran out of petrol! We eventually got going and after that lift, waiting at a roundabout to catch a bus at about midnight, and a taxi ride I eventually found a bed at 3am.
Eventually I went to Tehran to some great hospıtalıty ... more about that next time ...
Love
Ankur / Pete
Before ... I was in Quetta, Pakistan over 600km from the Iranian border and just about to on get a train ...
The twice monthly train left at midday - except of course that it didn't. There was a 3-hour wait which ended when some important looking plain clothes policeman came on board to check my passport - apparently having it checked by ordinary policeman was insufficient. I wasn't aware that the train was waiting because of me (ıt left as soon as I had my passport checked), but no-one seemed very bothered - there were only 3 other passengers (all locals) so we all had loads of room to lay around. Disasterously they had only brought one prayer mat between them which they had to share in rotation so prayer-time 5-times a day lasted about an hour each time. They had to face mecca each time but luckily they didnt have to keep moving it cos the track was dead straight all the way! Most Pakistanis are religious, do pray and wished they lived in a 'proper' Islamic state like Iran.
We crossed flat desert and more flat desert. Surprisingly the track had been washed away by heavy rains and had only just been repaired so progress was very slow especially across the bit where one guy was ankle deep in water next to the track holding a green flag presumably ready to change it to red if the track started to slip. I didnt really expect the train to be on time. It was due to arrive at the border at about midday the next day; it didnt make it there at midday or that afternoon or that evening. I am told it got there at 5am the next morning (3rd day) but I was asleep. I could not be bothered to wait for the whole train and goods wagons to clear the border and carry on so I got off and went across on foot, into Iran...
Now we all know that Iran is a dangerous place full of hard line Islamic Iranians who will happily lynch a foreigner especially if they are from USA or UK. However,this may not be entirely true - in fact nothing could be further from the truth. However, there are a few things you should know about Iran...
The Law!
In public it is illegal for:
- men (or women) to wear shorts (unless at a segregated swimming area or involved in sport - football seems to be the only sport which anyone actually plays)
- men to wear sleeveless tops
- women to wear short sleeves
- for females over 9 years old to take off their hejab or headscarf.
- women not to have a coat covering their bums
- males and females to hold hands unless they are married - occasional touching of shoulders appears to be tolerated though (men happily hold hands with other men and women with women)
- dance with opposite sex
- sing
- play music ...
In private it is still illegal (though that doesn't mean they dont happen) to:
- Drink alcohol
- gamble
- watch films with sex in
- have satellite TV
The penalty for a foreigner having sex with an Iranian women is death!
In reality:
- Iran is very westernised.
- Most Iranians hate the rules and are not actively religious (I didnt see a single prayer mat in Iran!)
- Many Iranians think the Islamic revolution in 1979 was a mistake.
- The mullahs (religious leaders who run the country) are effectively running a military dictatorship and are very corrupt.
- Bush and Blair are often well respected and many hope Bush does invade and kick out the present regime.
- The Iran Lonely Planet guidebook entry under 'Discos and Nightclubs' is very short and simply reads 'Dream on.' - Those things that are illegal in public are pretty much stuck to as there are loads of police around to enforce them.
- Whatever you can get away with in private is OK!
- Men and women are segregated on buses and are not allowed to sit next to each other unless related - although in a shared taxi or on a train no-one seems to care about that.
- Women allways have their heads covered in public (unless in a very deserted spot), 80% of women wear all black (less in Tehran) often black capes which they have to hold closed with their hands, or if they are carrying things, with their teeth!
- Many Iranians really believe that the current dictatorship was put in place by, and is under the control of, Great Britain!
So, it is a great irony that Iran is a very strict Islamic state, cos most Iranians are not even that religious.
I should mention at this point that there are 2 types of Iranians: Those driving cars and those not driving cars.
- Iranians driving cars
These are very dangerous people who will try not to stop at any time. Unfortunately Iran, and Tehran in particular, is full of cars and hence Iran and Tehran are very dangerous places to be. Every time I crossed the street in Tehran I knew I was taking my life in my hands - basically you have to use the 'Saigon method' (dont look just walk and presume/hope/pray that everythýng will miss you). This works in Saigon (Vietnam) with motorcycles which can easily swerve around you at the last moment and almost always do. However in Tehran they have cars which are wide and do not swerve round you at any moment. So the only solution is to walk straight into the road (there is no point in stoppýng at the kerb cos there will never be a gap) and walk straight across, giving the impression that you are not going to stop for anything and havent even looked to see whats coming, whilst being confident in the knowledge that the cars heading for you MIGHT stop, and of course keeping an eye out for the car that comes hammering round the corner and is not going to stop/couldnt stop in time anyway, so you can jump out of the way at the last moment. I have seen more accidents in Iran in a month than in the rest of my life. Everyone drives like this. Iran is a dangerous place!
- Iranians not driving cars
These people are incredibly friendly and will immediately sympathise with you about how bad the driving is. Then they will ask you where you are from and wonder what the hell you want to visit Iran for. Then they will show you tremendous hospitality which would be unheard of in the west including feeding you,paying for you and even let you stay in a spare apartment (with sauna and swimming pool etc ... more later).
So, I am in Iran and haven't been lynched (it isn't anythýng like what we are lead to believe in the media). There was some stuff to see:
- Bam - the first stop in Iran. This was hope to a beautiful mud city but in December 2003 it was flattened by a huge earthquake. A huge amount of aid flowed into the town from inside and outside of Iran but most of it seems to have 'disappeared' and the sad reality is that it looks as if the earhquake happened just one month ago. Most buildings were destoyed and the remaining ones look very wobbly but they have not been pulled down yet. Only a few small houses have been rebuilt and most people are still living in Red Crescent tents. The bazaar is a line of metal heavy goods containers - the doors are opened at one end and you have a shop.
- The Desert - Nearly every day in Iran I woke up to find that I was (once again) in a desert and surrounded by mountains, very hot durýng the day and cold at night. Parts of the desert are tediously featureless but other parts are incredibly interesting with oases, sand dunes carved by the wind, colourful rocks and date palms. And, when the wind stops blowing, peace.
- Persepolis - A city built 2,500 years ago although there is not so much there now. But it has a few buildings, columns, statues, stairways with carvings etc.
- Indoor Bazaars - Everytown has one and most claim to be hundreds of years old. They are nice not because of what they contain (they are just shops really) but because they are about the only place where there are no cars! However motorbikes get ridden through the often narrow passageways at high speed instead.
- Mosques - These were not in short supply and I could go on at some length about how incredible they all are. Many are 500 years or more old and are covered in mosaics tiles of brilliant colours, as bright as they were the day they were made, the arches describing beautiful shapes and reveal crisp stalactite mouldings ... I could go on but suffice to say that if you like blue tiles then you'll love them.
- Teahouses - Nearly always full of men smoking water pipes and occasionally drinking tea. Many of them are very old in superbly atmospheric underground caverns and one was even between the piers of a bridge not much above water level; unfortunately it was windy and so we did get a bit wet from time to time from the spray.
- No Ruz (New Year) - Unfortunately I ended up in Iran at the one time in the year when everyone (the locals) travels. The Persian calander is different to ours in terms of years, months, and days, but luckily they do have 7 days in a week. New Year is on 21 March except that this year it was actually on 20 March just after 4pm in the afternoon (it depends on the position of the sun). I was staying in a tiny village in the desert at the time - we all gathered round looking at the 7 things beginning with S (in Persian) to bring good luck for the next year and then suddenly it was new year! No alcohol, no party poppers, no Big Ben, no music, dancing or celebration. It just was New Year!
So Iran is a fascinating country full of interesting things and culture and really friendly people ...
...There are some annoying things though (apart from the laws and the driving):
- About 50% of cars are Paykans - replicas of Hillman Hunters, and nearly all are white, produce incredible pollution and are very inefficient (but petrol is only about 10 US cents (5p) a litre).
- The Iranian currency in the rial, which all banknotes are denominated in. However, Iranians nearly always quote prices in tuman (a tuman in 10 rials). This get more than a bit confusing cos I had to keep losing and adding a zero every time I spent any money - and off course unless you are careful you end up being charged 10 times more than you thought.
... And I did have some bad experiences:
The Bug - On the way back from a day in the dunes in the desert I was happily sitting in the back of a 4wd when I was suddenly bitten/stung, by something unknown, on my finger. It really hurt so we stopped the car and had a look to see what it was but could find nothing. We drove for another hour and by then it was still really painful, even though my finger had gone numb and my arm wasnt feeling great either. So we stopped at a very rural hospital and, cos they couldnt decide what it was either, ended up having 2 injection in my arms. And the Iranian Health Service? Basic - but I recovered.
The Razor - One of the biggest pains when travellýng is buses that arrive very early in the morning. In this case getting to Shiraz (where the wine grape originates - but of course it is illegal to make wine out of it here) all the bus companies left at 8pm so they could all get to Shiraz at 3.30am!!! Even the locals didnt know why. So having no choice I caught the bus and once in Shiraz decided to sleep at the bus station until it was light, locking my daysac to my backpack via a cable which secured the whole lot to a bench. I woke up to find a man leaning over my bags in a suspicious way so I yelled at him and he dissapeared. It was only when it got light that I found a razor blade which had been dropped on my bag and the handle of my daysac had been sliced through leaving me very close to having lost a lot of stuff. I didnt sleep in any bus stations after that!
The Lift - On the way back from the desert to reality I got a lift to a village where I was told the bus went at 3pm. It actually went at 1.30pm so I was left to try and hitch a lift or wait for a bus passing through. Hours passed and no buses came and no one willing to give me a lift - most of the cars were packed full of families on their way home from Mashad (holiest place in Iran). After 5 hours (8pm) it was dark and I was still looking at a 7 or 8 hour journey to get to my destination, I was slumped by the side of the road and had given up trying to get a lift when a taxi stopped in front of me. He asked me where I was going, I asked how much, but he said no charge. Unfortunately the small car (a Paykan of course) was already packed with his family and all their things (returning from Mashad). Car full, boot full. No problem, they took enough stuff from the boot to fit my backpack in, crammed themselves and their stuff into the back seat and I got in the front. I couldn,t believe how lucky I was after waiting that long. Then less than 100 metres down the road, it ran out of petrol! We eventually got going and after that lift, waiting at a roundabout to catch a bus at about midnight, and a taxi ride I eventually found a bed at 3am.
Eventually I went to Tehran to some great hospıtalıty ... more about that next time ...
Love
Ankur / Pete
Monday 14 March 2005
Where 32 - Quetta, Pakistan --OR-- India v Pakistan
HI folks,
At last - and not without a good deal of hassle and money - I have a visa for Iran. For many nationalities it is not a problem, but they dont like giving them to Brits. I have only met one other Brit in Pakistan, and he gave up trying and went back to India.
There are not too many foreigners travelling in Pakistan - I have met about 25 with most of those (for some unknown reason) being S.Korean or Japanese. Most countries do not turn out to what I expect and Pakistan is no exception to that. But first there was a bit more of India ...
Amritsar - Even by Indian standards, this place is a tip. If it didnt have a very small golden temple (and wasn't next to the only land border crossing to Pakistan) then no foreigner would ever go there. But this small 2 up, 2 down house is the centre of the Sikh religion. To make it seem more important they covered it in a huge amount of gold and put it on an island in a lake (a big tank of water really) with a causeway so believers (and non-believers for that matter) dont get their feet wet. It is the opposite to the rest of India - they dont charge you to go in, it is very serene, they give you free food and accommodation, and they let anyone go into the inner sanctum. As pennance everyone has to take their shoes and socks off even it it is freezing cold, and wear a brightly covered headscarf (provided free of course). It is the smallest 'most important' place I have been to and maybe is the more impressive because of that - worth popping in if you happen to be up that way.
Nearby, the border with Pakistan consists of huge amounts of barbed wire with one single crossing point. It is pretty quiet - that is, until the closing of the border ceremony. This is an incredibly coordinated dance by soldiers from two countries who dislike each other intensely. The impressiveness of the height of the goosestep (about head height) is only challenged by the remarkable brevity of the salutes and handshakes they exchange just before the lower their respective flags and slam the gates shut. The whole affair has become a spectacle with grandstands being built on both sides which fill with supporters who come to cheer on their country.
Then into Pakistan. The border crossing is the cleanest, best cared for and (outside the closing ceremony) quietest I have seen, mainly because locals from both sides cannot cross it and there are hardly any foreigners stupid enough to want to. The no-mans land measures about 1 metre inbetween two impressive pairs of gates belonging to the respective countries.
The Difference between Pakistan and India
- I was told the two countries were very different (they parted when the old India gained independence from Britain in 1947), but I have to say that there is more the same than different - The rubbish, air-pollution, dirt, poverty, beggars... I could go on (and probably will).
The cows
- The first thing I noticed about Pakistan was that there are no cows wandering the streets - here cows get eaten before they stray very far (a lot of Muslims here). However to make up for that (and to ensure a reasonable spread of 'manure') the streets are filled with stacks of donkey and carts, horse and carts, cow and carts and even a few camels (and carts).
The Pollution
- Because Pakistan has a large number of donkey and carts, horse and carts, cow and carts and even a few camels (and carts) which do not add (much) to air pollution, the remaining motor transport is desperate to jack up the levels by chucking out clouds of choking exhaust fumes. They are so successful in this that the pollution levels exceed even India (they have to try and beat India at everything, only occasionally do they succeed).
- In the cities and towns the rubbish is everywhere and it stinks (just like India). However in the countryside there are green fields and stuff like 'nature' without any rubbish (unlike India).
The People
- The are the most hospitable imaginable. They are forever inviting you to eat with them and they wont accept any contribution. One guy sat next to me on a minbus and we talked for about 30 seconds and he insisted on paying the fare for me as I was his guest. At street stalls vendors have refused to accept payment or undercharged me! A refreshing change from the normal attitude to foreigners in other countries (India springs to mind).
The Food
- Foodwise, from India to Pakistan is like going from oasis to desert (or should that be dessert given the local sweet tooth). A diet of pure veg has turned into pure chips, naan bread, chicken kebabs and ice-cream - although most of the time it tastes OK, it is not very healthy. Trying to get veg food is a wate of time, so my body had to make the sudden adjustment to a carniverous diet.
- Once I realised that 90% of people eat from the stalls on the street and that it is almost impossible to avoid eating meat then I started to understand the food much better. However, trying to avoid all the stuff that looks dodgy means I have got pretty hungry. And breakfast - forget it. Luckily I managed to find some Weetabix and milk so for a few days I was happy.
- Amazingly, even after eating all this dodgy stuff I have still not got ill, although I do feel I am clinging onto my health by my (remaining) fingernails.
The Travelling
- The driving here is the worst - really really appalling. I have seen several road accidents in the few weeks I have been here - all because nobody has any respect for other road users. One local guy told me 10% of people drive responsibly, the other 90% are dangerous. He was one of the 10% surprisingly enough; I just want to know where the rest of the 10% are... - What is the maximum number of Pakistanis that fit into/onto/clinging to a minibus? Trick question obviously - there is no maximum.
- Why dont Pakistanis have knees? Because there is no maximum number of Pakistanis that fit into/onto/clinging to a minibus.
- Travelling by road here is a bit of a pain in the neck, bum, knees, back, feet, head, ankles, spine etc. But it is cheap!
- Perhaps that is why foreigners get 25% off train travel - but this is such a pain to actually get with a lot of forms to fill in and loads of waiting around that hardly anyone bothers - the trains are pretty cheap anyway. They are also slow and infrequent.
The Religion
- Everyone (bar a very few Christains) is Islamic (as oppose to mainly Hindu in India). If you declare that you are not then they try and convert you straightaway. They haven't had much luck with me though.
- The old guys that dye their hair and beards bright red. I thought for a moment it was Scottish/Irish ancestory but apparently it is all done with henna. Then they let it grow out and they have two tone hair and beards in red and grey - very strange. I was told it was a religious thing but then I saw water buffalo and goats who had the same thiing done to them (yes they looked very strange) and the locals were stumped for an explanation! I dont think the women do it but since I have seen only a few womens heads (most are covered) I cant really say.
- A group of us foreigners went to a 'celebration' where some of the men, in a show of their devoutness, tie small knifes to strings and whip their backs. I'm not opposed to a bit of masocism but the amount of blood on the ground, bloodstained shirts and congealed blood and scars on their backs was a bit much. The intensity near the main place where this was going on got a bit much and even after getting through 4 security checks we were refused entry at the 5th cos we were westeners - even though we were all wearing local clothes and trying deperately to look like locals!!! The atmosphere was unbelieveably charged with religious tension, and I was really afraid that if one local turned on us with an anti western diatribe then everyone else would have followed suit - and we would have been in BIG trouble - I'm not sure the large numbers of police around would have helped us a lot. I was glad to get out unscathed anyway.
The Women
- There is segregation of the sexes in some places. A man is not allowed to sit next to a women on a bus, but compartments on trains are mixed - none of the locals understand that either.
- If I am with a foreign female (and there aren't many travelling here) we have to say that we are married (even if I have only met her 2 mins before) else the locals get very confused and she could get a lot of hassle - cos women simply don't go around on their own.
- Talking to local women, even just to ask directions, is virtually taboo. Not that I have seen too many about outside the big cities. Wandering around looking like they have nothing to do is firmly the man's job!
The Mountains
- This is what people come to Pakistan for - stunning scenery, beautiful peaks etc. Unfortunately not only is this not the absolute best time of the year to go trekking in the mountains (cos it is winter and it is very cold), but this winter has seen the most snow for over a hundred years.
- Also we were told it was too dangerous to venture off the road without an armed guard. In many places the police are non-existant so these are essentially lawless areas, and in tribal areas they have no legal jurastiction anyway.
- I joined a group of locals and made it up to a town that was 3 metres deep in snow but since the road was closed by huge avalanches we had to walk up part of the way. The town had been , and still was, cut off for over a month and food was being flown in by helicopter. As there was no where to stay up there we had to get back down the same day. Unfortunately I trusted the locals to know when it would get dark - and we ended up struggling over frozen avalanches in the dark - not recommended! (but standard practice in Pakistan).
- Whilst walking a long a clear section of road (in the light) we heard a 'ssshhh' sound above us and looked up to see a huge boulder (about the size of a car) heading straight for us. Luckily we had got at least 20m away by the time it bounced on the road and carried on down the valley.
The Kyber Pass
- The traditional route between Pakistan and Afghanistan is still a pretty dangerous place so a small group of us had to have an armed guard just to go there. It is quite easy to get a visa, but when we got to a viewpoint overlooking the border into Afghanistan we could see that it was raining there, so we decided not to go!
- On the road to the border there is aplace called 'Smuggler's Bazaar' where apart from the usual electrical goods there are shops packed with guns and drugs, all seemingly legal and all very cheap - a locally produced AK47 assault rifle costs British Pounds 50. Taking either outside the immediate area however is not a good idea.
The Tombs
Pakistan is not awash with sites to see but I did manage to see some 14th Century tombs. The main one had been half washed away by a flood 200 years ago but as it was circular, from some angles it looked complete. It was covered in blue and white tiles in beatiful mosaics. If the Taj Mahal was a body building in his prime with perfect form but lacking depth, this was a gnarled old man with personality - not in the best repair but he had tons of charcter.
Quetta
The last outpost on the road to Iran - there is nowhere bigger than a village inbetween but Iran is over 600km away. Inbetween there is just desert - and a bus journey of 15 hours on a terrible road. Luckily there is also a train - this takes 24 hours if it is on time and at this time of year it could be delayed by a lot! There are not a lot of people going that way so there is only one train every two weeks; And it leaves tomorrow, so I had better be on it. This could be the journey from hell!
So, if all goes well then I should be in Iran by Wednesday 16th March. It could be an interesting month...
Love
Ankur/Pete
At last - and not without a good deal of hassle and money - I have a visa for Iran. For many nationalities it is not a problem, but they dont like giving them to Brits. I have only met one other Brit in Pakistan, and he gave up trying and went back to India.
There are not too many foreigners travelling in Pakistan - I have met about 25 with most of those (for some unknown reason) being S.Korean or Japanese. Most countries do not turn out to what I expect and Pakistan is no exception to that. But first there was a bit more of India ...
Amritsar - Even by Indian standards, this place is a tip. If it didnt have a very small golden temple (and wasn't next to the only land border crossing to Pakistan) then no foreigner would ever go there. But this small 2 up, 2 down house is the centre of the Sikh religion. To make it seem more important they covered it in a huge amount of gold and put it on an island in a lake (a big tank of water really) with a causeway so believers (and non-believers for that matter) dont get their feet wet. It is the opposite to the rest of India - they dont charge you to go in, it is very serene, they give you free food and accommodation, and they let anyone go into the inner sanctum. As pennance everyone has to take their shoes and socks off even it it is freezing cold, and wear a brightly covered headscarf (provided free of course). It is the smallest 'most important' place I have been to and maybe is the more impressive because of that - worth popping in if you happen to be up that way.
Nearby, the border with Pakistan consists of huge amounts of barbed wire with one single crossing point. It is pretty quiet - that is, until the closing of the border ceremony. This is an incredibly coordinated dance by soldiers from two countries who dislike each other intensely. The impressiveness of the height of the goosestep (about head height) is only challenged by the remarkable brevity of the salutes and handshakes they exchange just before the lower their respective flags and slam the gates shut. The whole affair has become a spectacle with grandstands being built on both sides which fill with supporters who come to cheer on their country.
Then into Pakistan. The border crossing is the cleanest, best cared for and (outside the closing ceremony) quietest I have seen, mainly because locals from both sides cannot cross it and there are hardly any foreigners stupid enough to want to. The no-mans land measures about 1 metre inbetween two impressive pairs of gates belonging to the respective countries.
The Difference between Pakistan and India
- I was told the two countries were very different (they parted when the old India gained independence from Britain in 1947), but I have to say that there is more the same than different - The rubbish, air-pollution, dirt, poverty, beggars... I could go on (and probably will).
The cows
- The first thing I noticed about Pakistan was that there are no cows wandering the streets - here cows get eaten before they stray very far (a lot of Muslims here). However to make up for that (and to ensure a reasonable spread of 'manure') the streets are filled with stacks of donkey and carts, horse and carts, cow and carts and even a few camels (and carts).
The Pollution
- Because Pakistan has a large number of donkey and carts, horse and carts, cow and carts and even a few camels (and carts) which do not add (much) to air pollution, the remaining motor transport is desperate to jack up the levels by chucking out clouds of choking exhaust fumes. They are so successful in this that the pollution levels exceed even India (they have to try and beat India at everything, only occasionally do they succeed).
- In the cities and towns the rubbish is everywhere and it stinks (just like India). However in the countryside there are green fields and stuff like 'nature' without any rubbish (unlike India).
The People
- The are the most hospitable imaginable. They are forever inviting you to eat with them and they wont accept any contribution. One guy sat next to me on a minbus and we talked for about 30 seconds and he insisted on paying the fare for me as I was his guest. At street stalls vendors have refused to accept payment or undercharged me! A refreshing change from the normal attitude to foreigners in other countries (India springs to mind).
The Food
- Foodwise, from India to Pakistan is like going from oasis to desert (or should that be dessert given the local sweet tooth). A diet of pure veg has turned into pure chips, naan bread, chicken kebabs and ice-cream - although most of the time it tastes OK, it is not very healthy. Trying to get veg food is a wate of time, so my body had to make the sudden adjustment to a carniverous diet.
- Once I realised that 90% of people eat from the stalls on the street and that it is almost impossible to avoid eating meat then I started to understand the food much better. However, trying to avoid all the stuff that looks dodgy means I have got pretty hungry. And breakfast - forget it. Luckily I managed to find some Weetabix and milk so for a few days I was happy.
- Amazingly, even after eating all this dodgy stuff I have still not got ill, although I do feel I am clinging onto my health by my (remaining) fingernails.
The Travelling
- The driving here is the worst - really really appalling. I have seen several road accidents in the few weeks I have been here - all because nobody has any respect for other road users. One local guy told me 10% of people drive responsibly, the other 90% are dangerous. He was one of the 10% surprisingly enough; I just want to know where the rest of the 10% are... - What is the maximum number of Pakistanis that fit into/onto/clinging to a minibus? Trick question obviously - there is no maximum.
- Why dont Pakistanis have knees? Because there is no maximum number of Pakistanis that fit into/onto/clinging to a minibus.
- Travelling by road here is a bit of a pain in the neck, bum, knees, back, feet, head, ankles, spine etc. But it is cheap!
- Perhaps that is why foreigners get 25% off train travel - but this is such a pain to actually get with a lot of forms to fill in and loads of waiting around that hardly anyone bothers - the trains are pretty cheap anyway. They are also slow and infrequent.
The Religion
- Everyone (bar a very few Christains) is Islamic (as oppose to mainly Hindu in India). If you declare that you are not then they try and convert you straightaway. They haven't had much luck with me though.
- The old guys that dye their hair and beards bright red. I thought for a moment it was Scottish/Irish ancestory but apparently it is all done with henna. Then they let it grow out and they have two tone hair and beards in red and grey - very strange. I was told it was a religious thing but then I saw water buffalo and goats who had the same thiing done to them (yes they looked very strange) and the locals were stumped for an explanation! I dont think the women do it but since I have seen only a few womens heads (most are covered) I cant really say.
- A group of us foreigners went to a 'celebration' where some of the men, in a show of their devoutness, tie small knifes to strings and whip their backs. I'm not opposed to a bit of masocism but the amount of blood on the ground, bloodstained shirts and congealed blood and scars on their backs was a bit much. The intensity near the main place where this was going on got a bit much and even after getting through 4 security checks we were refused entry at the 5th cos we were westeners - even though we were all wearing local clothes and trying deperately to look like locals!!! The atmosphere was unbelieveably charged with religious tension, and I was really afraid that if one local turned on us with an anti western diatribe then everyone else would have followed suit - and we would have been in BIG trouble - I'm not sure the large numbers of police around would have helped us a lot. I was glad to get out unscathed anyway.
The Women
- There is segregation of the sexes in some places. A man is not allowed to sit next to a women on a bus, but compartments on trains are mixed - none of the locals understand that either.
- If I am with a foreign female (and there aren't many travelling here) we have to say that we are married (even if I have only met her 2 mins before) else the locals get very confused and she could get a lot of hassle - cos women simply don't go around on their own.
- Talking to local women, even just to ask directions, is virtually taboo. Not that I have seen too many about outside the big cities. Wandering around looking like they have nothing to do is firmly the man's job!
The Mountains
- This is what people come to Pakistan for - stunning scenery, beautiful peaks etc. Unfortunately not only is this not the absolute best time of the year to go trekking in the mountains (cos it is winter and it is very cold), but this winter has seen the most snow for over a hundred years.
- Also we were told it was too dangerous to venture off the road without an armed guard. In many places the police are non-existant so these are essentially lawless areas, and in tribal areas they have no legal jurastiction anyway.
- I joined a group of locals and made it up to a town that was 3 metres deep in snow but since the road was closed by huge avalanches we had to walk up part of the way. The town had been , and still was, cut off for over a month and food was being flown in by helicopter. As there was no where to stay up there we had to get back down the same day. Unfortunately I trusted the locals to know when it would get dark - and we ended up struggling over frozen avalanches in the dark - not recommended! (but standard practice in Pakistan).
- Whilst walking a long a clear section of road (in the light) we heard a 'ssshhh' sound above us and looked up to see a huge boulder (about the size of a car) heading straight for us. Luckily we had got at least 20m away by the time it bounced on the road and carried on down the valley.
The Kyber Pass
- The traditional route between Pakistan and Afghanistan is still a pretty dangerous place so a small group of us had to have an armed guard just to go there. It is quite easy to get a visa, but when we got to a viewpoint overlooking the border into Afghanistan we could see that it was raining there, so we decided not to go!
- On the road to the border there is aplace called 'Smuggler's Bazaar' where apart from the usual electrical goods there are shops packed with guns and drugs, all seemingly legal and all very cheap - a locally produced AK47 assault rifle costs British Pounds 50. Taking either outside the immediate area however is not a good idea.
The Tombs
Pakistan is not awash with sites to see but I did manage to see some 14th Century tombs. The main one had been half washed away by a flood 200 years ago but as it was circular, from some angles it looked complete. It was covered in blue and white tiles in beatiful mosaics. If the Taj Mahal was a body building in his prime with perfect form but lacking depth, this was a gnarled old man with personality - not in the best repair but he had tons of charcter.
Quetta
The last outpost on the road to Iran - there is nowhere bigger than a village inbetween but Iran is over 600km away. Inbetween there is just desert - and a bus journey of 15 hours on a terrible road. Luckily there is also a train - this takes 24 hours if it is on time and at this time of year it could be delayed by a lot! There are not a lot of people going that way so there is only one train every two weeks; And it leaves tomorrow, so I had better be on it. This could be the journey from hell!
So, if all goes well then I should be in Iran by Wednesday 16th March. It could be an interesting month...
Love
Ankur/Pete
Saturday 19 February 2005
Where 31 - Delhi, India --OR-- How I Found Out Who I Am in an Underground Padded Room
HI Everyone,
Seems ages since I was in Goa dodging the waves - since then I have spent a month at an ashram followed by a couple of weeks rushing around.
Firstly, the Osho Ashram in Pune (actually it is now called the Osho International Meditation Resort so they can charge loads of cash for meditating there [ashrams are normally funded by donation only]). I was only intending to go for a few days but ... ended up staying a month - you know what it's like when you find somewhere that it so not like real life (or real travelling), it is not only easy to stay, it is frightening just thinking about having to face the outside world again, let alone actually doing it. Some people I met there are still too scared to come out, and a months stay may seem like a long time, but it hardly made me a long term inmate by Osho standards.
If you think meditation is about sitting silently in a room with loads of other people also sitting silently in a room then think again. OK, so some of it did involve sitting silently in a room with loads of other people also sitting silently in a room (the quality of this silence was something else, if you made a sound or coughed you were swiftly thrown out (quietly of course) by the neo nazi guards), but most of the meditations were dynamic, meaning you have to move and make sounds and stuff like that. In the 6am Dynamic Meditation we were encouraged to make as much noise as possible for 10 mins; and immediately after was 10 mins of jumping up and down continuously - call it circuit training if you like!
What kept me there really were the courses - I did two 3-days and one 5-day course - mainly looking at how my childhood conditioning affects me now (yes it is all to do with the people called parents) and how I can change back into who I was supposed to be and not the stranger I had become. The 5-day one was a bit tough as we (30 of us) were in total silence outside the group room for thefirst 4.5 days. I had to get up at 5.30am, and didnt get back to my room until 11.30pm - and then had to do homework! So there wasn't much time for sleep ...
Sharing all those emotionally intimate experiences in an underground padded room with 30 people I didn't know, and wasn't allowed to speak to, was kind of weird but very powerful; then after 5 days when we talked I realised I had 30 intimate friends who I didn't know a thing about - and none of us could think where to start. But when we did get it together it was like having a whole new family of friends, wonderful!
So after a month of what approximates to an exorcism of my past, I turned out to be a completely new person (perhaps a slight exaggeration), although whether I changed back the moment I stepped back into the street I'm not yet sure. Anyway to celebrate being this new person (however briefly) I had my head shaved (OK so that was years ago) and have a new name, Ankur (I'm sure I have been called something similar to that before anyway). Whether this is a final step or just a first step I'm not really sure, but it is a step...
So having gritted my teeth and with one eye on my visas' expiry dates, I left for more orthodox 'adventures' - up north to Rajasthan and into the desert:
Jodhpur (which really did give its name to a pair of trousers) - A huge fort, perched on an enormous slab of rock dominates this town, nearly all of which is painted blue (they reckon it helps keep the mossies away, but what mossies would be doing in the desert I have no idea). And apart from (What have the Romans ever done for us?)the very inpressive fort, the lovely (and cheap) food, superb lassis (note for Scottish people - these are yogurt drinks, not girls), the clock tower, full on sun, views across the town from rooftop restaurants and vibrant markets (there is no aqueduct here), what has this place got that is worth coming here for? Nothing!
The fort was founded in 1459, in was gradually expanded by various rulers, and despite having faced many attacks and sieges was never taken - when I stood at the top of the 125m high rock but still at the bottom of the huge walls I understood why.
Jaisalmer - further into the desert, out of which a walled city rises in defiance of everything that surrounds it (which is nothing except rock and sand, but the thought was there). Started in 1156, inside is a beautifully quaint whole town where even quainter people still live with quaint cramped houses, temples so squashed (and quaint) that they literally merge into one another, quaint narrow winding alleys ... and of course, being India, fat cows, shit excreted by all manner of mammals, an abundance of rubbish and nutcases on motor cycles.
- So I escaped into the desert on a camel for 3 days (with 7 other travellers and 4 guides/cooks/camel herders). Unfortunately ... after being driven by jeep an hour into the desert, when I tried to get on my sitting down camel for the first time, I had half a leg across the 'saddle' and it decided to get up and I only narrowly avoided castration but did lose half a fingernail in the process (a fortunate trade off perhaps), then opening my daysac (to mend my finger), I found I had lost my waterbottle, and then once I did get on my beast, my stirrups (which were only pieces of string) broke. So I rode off into the desert without water, stirrups and with only 9.5 fingernails. I felt that at least one of these was probably not a good idea!
- I didn't like the camel too much after that (it was lazy and always at the back as well) so later I managed to change to the one that was always at the front and was by far the biggest, a magnificent beast and quite well behaved, although he did keep trying to attract the females by blowing up cabbage sized pink sacks from his mouth which drooped (unattactively, need I add) over his bottom lip. Camels mouths are incredible, looking into one is revolting - a kalidascope of geen, red, purple and blue slime resides there - with teeth as twisted and colourful as Bugs Bunny's 85-year-old grandma who had been a heavy smoker (of Camels?) all her life.
- One thing that no-one advises you to take into the desert is wet weather gear, so I didn't. And yes it did rain - luckily only briefly. I do now know the difference between rain and camel spit, and this was definitely rain.
- The desert is not empty - if you have ever wondered where peacocks live, they live (at least some of them do) in this, The Great Thar Desert (Todays useless fact : peacocks are India's national bird). Mainly they walk everywhere although a few did fly briefly, probably just for our entertainment, but we didn't stop to find out why - we got away quick in case they came and hassled us for 'rupees' or 'school pen' - it is like that in India.
- Back inside the walled city the 7 Jain temples with a total of only 3 entrances betweenn them(merged remember) contained a maze of stunning 3D carvings - I could try and describe them but would probably fail and anyway you probably would get bored or have work to do, or most likely, both (and no karma sutra ones this time) - suffice to say they are probably the best I have ever seen for detail and condition given the age (12th - 15th century) - yes even better than Bantrey Srei at Angkor in Cambodia.
Bikaner - Then onto the most shit filled streets I have ever walked (and there is some pretty stiff competition in India). And it rained really heavily during the night and flooded the streets. And I was wearing open toed sandels. Liquid cow shit - and I just had to walk through it - not just for fun, but there simply was no other way to get from room to breakfast.
- This was not the main attraction of going there however. Even worse was 'The Rat Temple!!'. This is a temple filled with rats. They are not just tolerted but actually fed, watered and worshipped, no-one knows how many there are but one guy who worked there (over)estimated 60,000 - they only count the white rats which are considered lucky if you see one - there are 11, I saw 3 (or the same one 3 times).
So just relax and imagine going into this temple barefoot.
Rats are running around everywhere.
And these are not nice, specially bred rats; these are the degenerates of the rat world: scrawny, scabby, brown rats varying from mouse size (presumably younger ones) to the size of, well..., a well-fed rat.
So you are standing there, and just watching hundreds of them crowding round the food only a metre away makes your blood curdle.
You stand close enough to have your photo taken with them, and even crouch down to make it look like you are really pally with them; you may be thinking 'JUST DON'T ... come any closer'.
Then they run really close to you and you may think 'I'm OK'; breathe deeply, 'I'm bigger than them, they're not going to attack me or anything'.
And then they come right up to you, the scabs on them screaming 'I'm a scabby rat' at you. Then they nibble your toes ... Urrrgg ... and you try not to scream.
Then they run over your foot ... and you try and remember how honoured you are to have this happen to you.
Then they run up your leg!
F**K OFF ME!
It was just like that - and yes I do have the pictues to prove it!
- Agra - Couldn't leave India without seeing the Taj Mahal (completed in 1653 so fairly old). Got up an hour before first light to see it wake up. It is spectacular as it changes its hue in the early light, a wonderful testament to a man's love for a women and what happens when the King has too much money to waste. The best views are from a distance; I immersed myself in its shape, its form, its colours and its beauty - it makes an impact. But the closer I got the less interesting it was. Then I got too close and realised that apart from a few bits of intricate inlaid stones, it is just huge slabs of marble; just a building and not an overly interesting one at that.
And nearby there is a fantastic Red Fort made out of red sandstone, and adorned with white marble palaces - all built by the same people who built the Taj Mahal.
Delhi
Onto the capital, just for a couple of days. I expected this to be a modern westernised place, and some of it is. But it also boasts roads covered in muck (those cows again) and traffic jams of cycle rickshaws (a really slow but pleasant way to travel if you can stand the pollution). It also has a red fort (made of red sandstone!) which isn't a patch on the one at Agra, and India's largest mosque (completed in 1658) which can hold 25,000 people. Surrounding this mosque are streets of butchers shops, something of a surprise in India - the muslims eat stacks of meat, and judging by the displays of the shops, goat's heads are a speciality. Strangely there were no cows wandering the streets near here - wonder what happened to them?
So after 3 months I am nearly finished in India - just up to the Golden Temple at Amritsar and then over the border to Pakistan. I feel like I am heading home - well at least I am heading NW which is pretty much the right direction - may take a few months to get back but the food might be better than if I went by 'plane.
- Incidentaly I have been travelling nearly 5 months in Nepal and India, eating fantastic food and haven't been ill once. I will regret writing that sometime soon!
- I was tying to think how to sum up India in a few words or a picture. After careful(?) thought it would have to be a picture of a man pissing up against the wall of the Taj Mahal!
India is the best and the worst of everything expertly blended together.
So what is happening with you ... ?
Home soon(?)
Love
Ankur/Pete
Seems ages since I was in Goa dodging the waves - since then I have spent a month at an ashram followed by a couple of weeks rushing around.
Firstly, the Osho Ashram in Pune (actually it is now called the Osho International Meditation Resort so they can charge loads of cash for meditating there [ashrams are normally funded by donation only]). I was only intending to go for a few days but ... ended up staying a month - you know what it's like when you find somewhere that it so not like real life (or real travelling), it is not only easy to stay, it is frightening just thinking about having to face the outside world again, let alone actually doing it. Some people I met there are still too scared to come out, and a months stay may seem like a long time, but it hardly made me a long term inmate by Osho standards.
If you think meditation is about sitting silently in a room with loads of other people also sitting silently in a room then think again. OK, so some of it did involve sitting silently in a room with loads of other people also sitting silently in a room (the quality of this silence was something else, if you made a sound or coughed you were swiftly thrown out (quietly of course) by the neo nazi guards), but most of the meditations were dynamic, meaning you have to move and make sounds and stuff like that. In the 6am Dynamic Meditation we were encouraged to make as much noise as possible for 10 mins; and immediately after was 10 mins of jumping up and down continuously - call it circuit training if you like!
What kept me there really were the courses - I did two 3-days and one 5-day course - mainly looking at how my childhood conditioning affects me now (yes it is all to do with the people called parents) and how I can change back into who I was supposed to be and not the stranger I had become. The 5-day one was a bit tough as we (30 of us) were in total silence outside the group room for thefirst 4.5 days. I had to get up at 5.30am, and didnt get back to my room until 11.30pm - and then had to do homework! So there wasn't much time for sleep ...
Sharing all those emotionally intimate experiences in an underground padded room with 30 people I didn't know, and wasn't allowed to speak to, was kind of weird but very powerful; then after 5 days when we talked I realised I had 30 intimate friends who I didn't know a thing about - and none of us could think where to start. But when we did get it together it was like having a whole new family of friends, wonderful!
So after a month of what approximates to an exorcism of my past, I turned out to be a completely new person (perhaps a slight exaggeration), although whether I changed back the moment I stepped back into the street I'm not yet sure. Anyway to celebrate being this new person (however briefly) I had my head shaved (OK so that was years ago) and have a new name, Ankur (I'm sure I have been called something similar to that before anyway). Whether this is a final step or just a first step I'm not really sure, but it is a step...
So having gritted my teeth and with one eye on my visas' expiry dates, I left for more orthodox 'adventures' - up north to Rajasthan and into the desert:
Jodhpur (which really did give its name to a pair of trousers) - A huge fort, perched on an enormous slab of rock dominates this town, nearly all of which is painted blue (they reckon it helps keep the mossies away, but what mossies would be doing in the desert I have no idea). And apart from (What have the Romans ever done for us?)the very inpressive fort, the lovely (and cheap) food, superb lassis (note for Scottish people - these are yogurt drinks, not girls), the clock tower, full on sun, views across the town from rooftop restaurants and vibrant markets (there is no aqueduct here), what has this place got that is worth coming here for? Nothing!
The fort was founded in 1459, in was gradually expanded by various rulers, and despite having faced many attacks and sieges was never taken - when I stood at the top of the 125m high rock but still at the bottom of the huge walls I understood why.
Jaisalmer - further into the desert, out of which a walled city rises in defiance of everything that surrounds it (which is nothing except rock and sand, but the thought was there). Started in 1156, inside is a beautifully quaint whole town where even quainter people still live with quaint cramped houses, temples so squashed (and quaint) that they literally merge into one another, quaint narrow winding alleys ... and of course, being India, fat cows, shit excreted by all manner of mammals, an abundance of rubbish and nutcases on motor cycles.
- So I escaped into the desert on a camel for 3 days (with 7 other travellers and 4 guides/cooks/camel herders). Unfortunately ... after being driven by jeep an hour into the desert, when I tried to get on my sitting down camel for the first time, I had half a leg across the 'saddle' and it decided to get up and I only narrowly avoided castration but did lose half a fingernail in the process (a fortunate trade off perhaps), then opening my daysac (to mend my finger), I found I had lost my waterbottle, and then once I did get on my beast, my stirrups (which were only pieces of string) broke. So I rode off into the desert without water, stirrups and with only 9.5 fingernails. I felt that at least one of these was probably not a good idea!
- I didn't like the camel too much after that (it was lazy and always at the back as well) so later I managed to change to the one that was always at the front and was by far the biggest, a magnificent beast and quite well behaved, although he did keep trying to attract the females by blowing up cabbage sized pink sacks from his mouth which drooped (unattactively, need I add) over his bottom lip. Camels mouths are incredible, looking into one is revolting - a kalidascope of geen, red, purple and blue slime resides there - with teeth as twisted and colourful as Bugs Bunny's 85-year-old grandma who had been a heavy smoker (of Camels?) all her life.
- One thing that no-one advises you to take into the desert is wet weather gear, so I didn't. And yes it did rain - luckily only briefly. I do now know the difference between rain and camel spit, and this was definitely rain.
- The desert is not empty - if you have ever wondered where peacocks live, they live (at least some of them do) in this, The Great Thar Desert (Todays useless fact : peacocks are India's national bird). Mainly they walk everywhere although a few did fly briefly, probably just for our entertainment, but we didn't stop to find out why - we got away quick in case they came and hassled us for 'rupees' or 'school pen' - it is like that in India.
- Back inside the walled city the 7 Jain temples with a total of only 3 entrances betweenn them(merged remember) contained a maze of stunning 3D carvings - I could try and describe them but would probably fail and anyway you probably would get bored or have work to do, or most likely, both (and no karma sutra ones this time) - suffice to say they are probably the best I have ever seen for detail and condition given the age (12th - 15th century) - yes even better than Bantrey Srei at Angkor in Cambodia.
Bikaner - Then onto the most shit filled streets I have ever walked (and there is some pretty stiff competition in India). And it rained really heavily during the night and flooded the streets. And I was wearing open toed sandels. Liquid cow shit - and I just had to walk through it - not just for fun, but there simply was no other way to get from room to breakfast.
- This was not the main attraction of going there however. Even worse was 'The Rat Temple!!'. This is a temple filled with rats. They are not just tolerted but actually fed, watered and worshipped, no-one knows how many there are but one guy who worked there (over)estimated 60,000 - they only count the white rats which are considered lucky if you see one - there are 11, I saw 3 (or the same one 3 times).
So just relax and imagine going into this temple barefoot.
Rats are running around everywhere.
And these are not nice, specially bred rats; these are the degenerates of the rat world: scrawny, scabby, brown rats varying from mouse size (presumably younger ones) to the size of, well..., a well-fed rat.
So you are standing there, and just watching hundreds of them crowding round the food only a metre away makes your blood curdle.
You stand close enough to have your photo taken with them, and even crouch down to make it look like you are really pally with them; you may be thinking 'JUST DON'T ... come any closer'.
Then they run really close to you and you may think 'I'm OK'; breathe deeply, 'I'm bigger than them, they're not going to attack me or anything'.
And then they come right up to you, the scabs on them screaming 'I'm a scabby rat' at you. Then they nibble your toes ... Urrrgg ... and you try not to scream.
Then they run over your foot ... and you try and remember how honoured you are to have this happen to you.
Then they run up your leg!
F**K OFF ME!
It was just like that - and yes I do have the pictues to prove it!
- Agra - Couldn't leave India without seeing the Taj Mahal (completed in 1653 so fairly old). Got up an hour before first light to see it wake up. It is spectacular as it changes its hue in the early light, a wonderful testament to a man's love for a women and what happens when the King has too much money to waste. The best views are from a distance; I immersed myself in its shape, its form, its colours and its beauty - it makes an impact. But the closer I got the less interesting it was. Then I got too close and realised that apart from a few bits of intricate inlaid stones, it is just huge slabs of marble; just a building and not an overly interesting one at that.
And nearby there is a fantastic Red Fort made out of red sandstone, and adorned with white marble palaces - all built by the same people who built the Taj Mahal.
Delhi
Onto the capital, just for a couple of days. I expected this to be a modern westernised place, and some of it is. But it also boasts roads covered in muck (those cows again) and traffic jams of cycle rickshaws (a really slow but pleasant way to travel if you can stand the pollution). It also has a red fort (made of red sandstone!) which isn't a patch on the one at Agra, and India's largest mosque (completed in 1658) which can hold 25,000 people. Surrounding this mosque are streets of butchers shops, something of a surprise in India - the muslims eat stacks of meat, and judging by the displays of the shops, goat's heads are a speciality. Strangely there were no cows wandering the streets near here - wonder what happened to them?
So after 3 months I am nearly finished in India - just up to the Golden Temple at Amritsar and then over the border to Pakistan. I feel like I am heading home - well at least I am heading NW which is pretty much the right direction - may take a few months to get back but the food might be better than if I went by 'plane.
- Incidentaly I have been travelling nearly 5 months in Nepal and India, eating fantastic food and haven't been ill once. I will regret writing that sometime soon!
- I was tying to think how to sum up India in a few words or a picture. After careful(?) thought it would have to be a picture of a man pissing up against the wall of the Taj Mahal!
India is the best and the worst of everything expertly blended together.
So what is happening with you ... ?
Home soon(?)
Love
Ankur/Pete
Friday 7 January 2005
Where 30 - Goa, India --OR-- How to Run Away from a Tsunami --OR-- How to Start a Sex Riot on a Railway Platform
HI Everyone,
Last time a tragic and unexpected world disaster happened I was in Oz, and although I watched it on TV, felt very remote from the collapsing twin towers. This time I literally got my feet wet.
But I am getting ahead of events. Trivial as it now seems ... I was just escaping Varanassi (a city which is everything your mother told you not to be) in north India, but it wasnt that simple. My train was due at 11.35pm for a 7 hour journey, so a nice overnight trip. I waited on the platform, and waited and waited. I got out my sleeping bag, sat on it, and waited. I fell asleep ... for hours on the platform (a large % of the population sem to sleep on railway platforms so I was far from alone) and when I woke my train had still not arrived. Finally it rolled in at 8am - my overnight trip was now in daylight and I was mighty pissed off at having wasted a day on a train when I should have been there by then! Eventually it got me 'there' over 10 hours late.
No-one else I met had had any problems with their trains, so I was confident that the next one I caught would be pretty much on time. Due at 8pm for a 14 hour journey, I waited on the platform thinking well if its an hour late thats not too bad. I waited all that evening, past midnight, got my sleeping bag out again, went to sleep, still no train; all night long there was no train; it got light, no train; all morning, no train. I asked why it was so late and, in a reply that was typically Indian, was told 'Late Running!' Not absolutelly satisfied with that I pressed further and was told 'Technical Problems!' Then I gave up asking (and probably swore loudly - most peole there didnt speak english anyway). That afternoon, just as I was thinking about how much confusion it would cause if it was 24 hours late (each train has a no. but there is one of that no. every day and no way to distinguish which days train it is) it turned up 16 hours late. Worst still, I had to scramble off the train at 2.45am (having stayed awake trying to guess the station we were passing through and trying to read the Hindi train signs in the dark) and then spent the rest of that night sleeping on the platform. At least then I got some sleep as I wasnt worried about missing my train!
Enough about trains (and I wont even mention the buses). I had theough that India is a place where loads of foreigners go, and in some places there are quite a few. But most places they are thin on the ground. This means that the enormity of the Indian male population sees fit to descend on you whenever they can. On the street they call out like little kids, and queue up to shake my hand. But it is at train stations where I was cornered and where no-one has anything better to do. I got completely surrounded by on one platform by about 50 guys all wanting to talk to me - only about 3 of then actually spoke english but they translated into Hindi for the benefit of the masses. Once you stop being overawed by the whole thing it can get pretty interesting - especially when you mention their favorite subject. One guy asked me 'Are you married?' to which I replied 'No'. He then looked at me in a very confused way and after a pause said 'Do you like sex?' Then I was a bit confused, until I twigged what he meant. In India marriages are arranged and there is no sex before marriage. I said in my culture you do not have to be married to have sex. Once that got translated it bought the house down, all the (presumably unmarried twentysomethings virgin) macho guys went mental, jumping around llike nuts. Eventually the crowd was broken up by the riot police (well, one policeman with a big stick) and I tried to look innocent and hide somewhere else on the platform.
In one small village I was cycling along and an old guy was walking the other way. Despite no suggestion of a uniform anywhere, he stood up straight and saluted me ... old habits perhaps.
Nearly all signs are in Hindi especially at railway stations. At one place the whole train info was entirely in Hindi apart from one sign on the platform in English 'Please do not spit.' Very helpful.
All this travel has been with purpose as I have been to a few tasty places:
- Khajuraho - Fantastic small stone temples 1,000 years old adourned with an enormous no. of carvings of incredible quality and almost perfectly preseved. Most are of everyday life, beautiful women with gravity defying chests and bums so flat that it looks like they're bottom halfs are pointing the other way. Amoungst these are what people really come for - a good collection of 'karma sutra' carvings - hardcore porn so old that it is 'art', explicit sex in interesting and often improbable positions (some needing a couple of helpers to help then into the start position) presented in film strip style with a row of carvings culminating in orgasm! Oh and there is the odd cow thrown in for good measure. Yes, it really is art. Yes, I can send you the photos. Just email me your credit card no and expiry date...
- Ajanta - A row of 30 Buddhist temples carved into a cliff on a horseshoe bend in a river. They date from 200BC. The largest is 20m x 20m inside with over 20 carved pillars, wall paintings, buddha statues etc. All instunning condition considering their age.
- Ellora - More caves carved into solid rock, but one of which is stunning. Instead of building a temple they started with a solid cliff and chipped away at the rock (apparently 7000 men for 150 years - although presumably not the same 7000 men) creating several floors, domes, towers, loads of carvings of real quality etc And all with just the rock that was there, exactly where it was. The concept is mind boggling. The reality is so good, and so like a normal (superb) temple, that I had to keep reminding myself that it was created like that. Must be the most under-hyped thing I have ever seen.
Now i am all caved out. Or should that be caved in?
- Matheran - A hill station perched on a flat topped mountain, which is reached by a 2 hour 'toy train' ride. The town has no means of transport other than hand pulled rickshaws, all the supplies have to be pulled around by 8 men pushing a cart up steep slopes. There is no traffic or even cycles. Is this really India?
And then to Goa. A very pleasant state which is not like anywhere else I had been - for a start there are as many tourists as locals, but Xmas is Xmas and Goa is one of the few mainly christion areas of India (Portuguese influence). Goa has miles of empty coastline withh great beaches all the way along it - so as usual nearly everyone crams into a couple of small beaches. We got an idyllic place right next to the beach and just a few metres above (the very basic shack was on stilts). Xmas passed by and then on morning of Dec 26th we heard about a tsunami somewhere in Indonesia. Didnt sound too serious then. That evening we were in a restaurant just above the beach when waves of water started coming over the wall into the restaurant. It seemed odd but I was more concerned that I hadn't finished my (milk) shake, but suddenly we were nearly the last people in the restaurant - the staff were the first to leave - and we exited rapidly onto the street behind where it was just panic. Indians drive autorickshaws and motorbikes like lunatics at the best of times but in a panic - it was mayhem, but when the locals start running you had better join them. A few people were hurt in the rush but I didnt see anything too bad. We found the tallest solid looking building in town and slept on the roof. Next morning the beach looked very different with some restaurants on the beach hit badly (but they were open again a few days later). The water had come up to just below our hut, but it wasnt the level of water that was the worry, it was not knowing what caused it and not knowing what was going to happen next. Apparently it was a high tide caused by the effects of the eathquake combined with what was due to be the highest tide of the month anyway.
It doesn't really bear thinking about, but if the Portuguese had built their trading post on the other side of India, facing East (and it had some nice beaches) we would probably now be just a statistic in the body count column of this event. I try not to think about it.
So that was Goa. Now it is back up north, another month and a half in India and then Pakistan...
Meantime: This is India, a land where nothing is unbelievable - except everything the locals tell you. If you ever ask a closed question (to check info etc) the reply is always 'Yes' even if they haven't understood the question. And it is always accompanied by that bloody annoying little shake of the head (that only Indians can do) which means 'Yes'. Or 'No'. Or 'I have 9 kids to feed, 2 water buffalo and some potatoes. How much will you give me for one of my kids.'
Ta ta from the land of the long wait,
and
Happy New Year!
Love
Pete
Last time a tragic and unexpected world disaster happened I was in Oz, and although I watched it on TV, felt very remote from the collapsing twin towers. This time I literally got my feet wet.
But I am getting ahead of events. Trivial as it now seems ... I was just escaping Varanassi (a city which is everything your mother told you not to be) in north India, but it wasnt that simple. My train was due at 11.35pm for a 7 hour journey, so a nice overnight trip. I waited on the platform, and waited and waited. I got out my sleeping bag, sat on it, and waited. I fell asleep ... for hours on the platform (a large % of the population sem to sleep on railway platforms so I was far from alone) and when I woke my train had still not arrived. Finally it rolled in at 8am - my overnight trip was now in daylight and I was mighty pissed off at having wasted a day on a train when I should have been there by then! Eventually it got me 'there' over 10 hours late.
No-one else I met had had any problems with their trains, so I was confident that the next one I caught would be pretty much on time. Due at 8pm for a 14 hour journey, I waited on the platform thinking well if its an hour late thats not too bad. I waited all that evening, past midnight, got my sleeping bag out again, went to sleep, still no train; all night long there was no train; it got light, no train; all morning, no train. I asked why it was so late and, in a reply that was typically Indian, was told 'Late Running!' Not absolutelly satisfied with that I pressed further and was told 'Technical Problems!' Then I gave up asking (and probably swore loudly - most peole there didnt speak english anyway). That afternoon, just as I was thinking about how much confusion it would cause if it was 24 hours late (each train has a no. but there is one of that no. every day and no way to distinguish which days train it is) it turned up 16 hours late. Worst still, I had to scramble off the train at 2.45am (having stayed awake trying to guess the station we were passing through and trying to read the Hindi train signs in the dark) and then spent the rest of that night sleeping on the platform. At least then I got some sleep as I wasnt worried about missing my train!
Enough about trains (and I wont even mention the buses). I had theough that India is a place where loads of foreigners go, and in some places there are quite a few. But most places they are thin on the ground. This means that the enormity of the Indian male population sees fit to descend on you whenever they can. On the street they call out like little kids, and queue up to shake my hand. But it is at train stations where I was cornered and where no-one has anything better to do. I got completely surrounded by on one platform by about 50 guys all wanting to talk to me - only about 3 of then actually spoke english but they translated into Hindi for the benefit of the masses. Once you stop being overawed by the whole thing it can get pretty interesting - especially when you mention their favorite subject. One guy asked me 'Are you married?' to which I replied 'No'. He then looked at me in a very confused way and after a pause said 'Do you like sex?' Then I was a bit confused, until I twigged what he meant. In India marriages are arranged and there is no sex before marriage. I said in my culture you do not have to be married to have sex. Once that got translated it bought the house down, all the (presumably unmarried twentysomethings virgin) macho guys went mental, jumping around llike nuts. Eventually the crowd was broken up by the riot police (well, one policeman with a big stick) and I tried to look innocent and hide somewhere else on the platform.
In one small village I was cycling along and an old guy was walking the other way. Despite no suggestion of a uniform anywhere, he stood up straight and saluted me ... old habits perhaps.
Nearly all signs are in Hindi especially at railway stations. At one place the whole train info was entirely in Hindi apart from one sign on the platform in English 'Please do not spit.' Very helpful.
All this travel has been with purpose as I have been to a few tasty places:
- Khajuraho - Fantastic small stone temples 1,000 years old adourned with an enormous no. of carvings of incredible quality and almost perfectly preseved. Most are of everyday life, beautiful women with gravity defying chests and bums so flat that it looks like they're bottom halfs are pointing the other way. Amoungst these are what people really come for - a good collection of 'karma sutra' carvings - hardcore porn so old that it is 'art', explicit sex in interesting and often improbable positions (some needing a couple of helpers to help then into the start position) presented in film strip style with a row of carvings culminating in orgasm! Oh and there is the odd cow thrown in for good measure. Yes, it really is art. Yes, I can send you the photos. Just email me your credit card no and expiry date...
- Ajanta - A row of 30 Buddhist temples carved into a cliff on a horseshoe bend in a river. They date from 200BC. The largest is 20m x 20m inside with over 20 carved pillars, wall paintings, buddha statues etc. All instunning condition considering their age.
- Ellora - More caves carved into solid rock, but one of which is stunning. Instead of building a temple they started with a solid cliff and chipped away at the rock (apparently 7000 men for 150 years - although presumably not the same 7000 men) creating several floors, domes, towers, loads of carvings of real quality etc And all with just the rock that was there, exactly where it was. The concept is mind boggling. The reality is so good, and so like a normal (superb) temple, that I had to keep reminding myself that it was created like that. Must be the most under-hyped thing I have ever seen.
Now i am all caved out. Or should that be caved in?
- Matheran - A hill station perched on a flat topped mountain, which is reached by a 2 hour 'toy train' ride. The town has no means of transport other than hand pulled rickshaws, all the supplies have to be pulled around by 8 men pushing a cart up steep slopes. There is no traffic or even cycles. Is this really India?
And then to Goa. A very pleasant state which is not like anywhere else I had been - for a start there are as many tourists as locals, but Xmas is Xmas and Goa is one of the few mainly christion areas of India (Portuguese influence). Goa has miles of empty coastline withh great beaches all the way along it - so as usual nearly everyone crams into a couple of small beaches. We got an idyllic place right next to the beach and just a few metres above (the very basic shack was on stilts). Xmas passed by and then on morning of Dec 26th we heard about a tsunami somewhere in Indonesia. Didnt sound too serious then. That evening we were in a restaurant just above the beach when waves of water started coming over the wall into the restaurant. It seemed odd but I was more concerned that I hadn't finished my (milk) shake, but suddenly we were nearly the last people in the restaurant - the staff were the first to leave - and we exited rapidly onto the street behind where it was just panic. Indians drive autorickshaws and motorbikes like lunatics at the best of times but in a panic - it was mayhem, but when the locals start running you had better join them. A few people were hurt in the rush but I didnt see anything too bad. We found the tallest solid looking building in town and slept on the roof. Next morning the beach looked very different with some restaurants on the beach hit badly (but they were open again a few days later). The water had come up to just below our hut, but it wasnt the level of water that was the worry, it was not knowing what caused it and not knowing what was going to happen next. Apparently it was a high tide caused by the effects of the eathquake combined with what was due to be the highest tide of the month anyway.
It doesn't really bear thinking about, but if the Portuguese had built their trading post on the other side of India, facing East (and it had some nice beaches) we would probably now be just a statistic in the body count column of this event. I try not to think about it.
So that was Goa. Now it is back up north, another month and a half in India and then Pakistan...
Meantime: This is India, a land where nothing is unbelievable - except everything the locals tell you. If you ever ask a closed question (to check info etc) the reply is always 'Yes' even if they haven't understood the question. And it is always accompanied by that bloody annoying little shake of the head (that only Indians can do) which means 'Yes'. Or 'No'. Or 'I have 9 kids to feed, 2 water buffalo and some potatoes. How much will you give me for one of my kids.'
Ta ta from the land of the long wait,
and
Happy New Year!
Love
Pete
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