Kerala

Well, I'm home now, in good old Ontario, and bored out of my gourd. I never finished blogging the last few places we went to, so I figure I'll do that now.

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Arriving in Fort Cochin, Kerala, I was finally feeling better from my bout of illness. Everything about Kerala was a great change from Goa. Fort Cochin itself is the nice old, touristy part of the city, Kochi. We have learned our lesson about staying at places recommend by the Lonely Planet--they are generally over-priced and full of white people with their noses buried in their Lonely Planets. So we found a place just down the street called the "Taj Mahal Guest House", which was really just a person's house with a few guest rooms set up for rent. Actually, this meant that the room was unusually large and full of character, like we were just staying in someone's actual room.

Fort Cochin is known for its Catholic heritage, so we were sure to see the well-known cathedral and bascillica (whose names escape me). I really enjoyed strolling along the boardwalk the runs beside the Arabian sea. One of the things Fort Cochin is known for are its very old fishing nets, still used, which they call Chinese fishing nets. Here is a picture.

Walking by a market set up at night, we were offered all sorts of fresh fish, and even this giant, weird looking crab. We declined because we had just ate--fish and chips! It was delicious.

The highlight of Kerala was our house-boat. A popular thing to do is travel a couple hours outside of the city and get a boat to tour the backwaters. These natural canals made in the jungle by the rains. For a very good price you can rent a houseboat for a night, complete with your own cook and pilot, to take you through the backwaters. It was a very luxurious experience! The food was very good, although maybe it didn't set well with me, because I did not have a good sleep on that boat, even though our room was really nice. I was up all night with the Delhi Belly--not fun.

Pictures (the first is of the same kind of boat we saw near us):




To get back to Kochi, we took a bus rather than paying for a hired car. The people of Kerala were really nice. A couple boys helped us get on the right bus, without any expectation of recompense. It was very refreshing. I have been told that Kerala is one of the nicest places in India and I have no evidence to the contrary.

Leaving Kochi for the train station was one of the most dangerous occurances of our trip. We made the mistake of getting a rickshaw in the pouring rain, and at night. Not only did I get absolutely soaked, but we came close to death at one point as the rickshaw hit a giant pothole and one whole side of the thing actually left the ground. Pan-Pan and I were speechless with shock, and all the driver said was, "see, very bad roads". Yes, the roads were very poorly maintained. At one point earlier, after hitting another bump, we actually broke down temporarily by the side of a crazy, busy road.

However, in the end we managed to get to the train station in one piece, and waited for our very last train in India.

The train to Madras, on the other side of the sub-continent, was one of the longest we had taken. When we finally arrived, we went immediately to a bus station to get a bus to Pondicherry, since there was nothing we wanted to do in Madras. The bus to Pondicherry was also long--four hours--and though we thought we were getting a super fast luxury bus, it still frequent stops and wasn't all that comfortable at all.

Goa

Our last day in Mumbai was pretty relaxing, mostly because I began to come down with a cold that really drained my energy. In the morning we went on a boat to Elephanta Island, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, to see some old Hindu cave sculptures. We went back in the afternoon and had an expensive lunch at Ruby Tuesday's and then went to see the new Harry Potter movie. It felt like we spent the evening in Toronto, or some other Western place, really. There was a Versace store next to the theatre and restaurant.

In the night we took a train, at 11PM, to Goa. We're old hands at this by now, so there were no surprises. Except, by this time, my cold was getting worse, and I had a pretty bad sleep.

We arrived in Anjuna in Goa on time, at noon, and went right to our resort--a nice-ish place with airconditioning and even a pool. I have been very sick today--deep chest cough, and worse, I feel like I have absolutely no energy. I'm sore all over. I've done nothing but sleep in our room today, from 12 to 6:30, and tonight we plan to do nothing but watch a movie. It's also pouring rain here. Goa may not be the party place we were expecting. It might just be a chance for me to recuperate, which I hope happens soon!

Mumbai

The journey to Mumbai (Bombay) from Udaipur was long, as expected. It began at 10:00 PM, when we waited in front of a travel agency for our sleeper bus to Ahmedabad. Actually, this went pretty smoothly. We had a compartment at the front of the bus, so the bumps weren't nearly as bad, and this time we also made sure to get our packs put in the trunk. I think we managed to sleep for a few hours before we ended up at Ahmedabad, which dropped us off at the train station. We had to get our tickets, which Pan-Pan did while I watched our stuff. During this time I thought I was going to throw up--I felt very sick. Unfortunately, we couldn't get the 5 AM train and had to wait until the 7 AM one. So we had to wait for two and a half hours at the railyard, at a bench by the tracks. I will never complain about VIA Rail again! The tracks at the railyards are sort of like giant septic systems. When trains come in, they dump their tanks right on the tracks, so you can imagine the sort of vileness that sits in big piles and stinks up the entire station. There's also garbage all over, and Indians lying randomly on the ground. We bought a samosa from a stand and couldn't finish it so we threw it on the ground to a dog that was lying near us. It didn't eat it, but half an hour later a poor person picked it up and ate it. That was sad to watch.

The wait was long, but finally the train arrived, thankfully on time. We got A/C class seats, so it was fairly comfortable (more leg room than VIA trains, even). If anything, the air-conditioning made it a little too cold! Even though it was an upper class car, we still saw a couple mice running across the aisle, and, of course, insects. The ride was nine hours, meaning that including our wait, we had been travelling for a total of 15 hours, once we arrived in Mumbai at 5:00--a long time, but not altogether terrible, because I managed to make great headway in my new book, "The Moor's Last Sigh", by Salman Rushdie (I figured that since I'm in India, I might as well explore the literature).

The Mumbai station was pleasantly easy to navigate, with the exit right near the road. However, we had to ask where the foreign ticket bureau was so that we could book our tickets to Goa. It turned out that we had to drive somewhere else to pick them up. We asked a security guard but it was a man nearby who answered our question, and he then offered to show us the way--via his taxi, of course. (One interesting thing about Mumbai is that rickshaws aren't allowed, so there are tons of '60s era black and yellow cabs).

This man turned out to be a shameless (and inept) shister. Here's the story. First, he tried to tell us that the foreign tickets office would close at 6:00 and, it being 5:25, we couldn't make it in time and should just let him take us to a hotel. In fact, it was only 5:10, so we made him take us there. (We later found out that it closed at 8, not 6--a fact that will become relevant later in the story). On the way, he was very friendly, pointing out facts about various buildings and what-not. When we did get to the place after 15 minutes or so, he told us the office was closed, because there was a closed gate. I pointed out a smaller sign saying "use other gate -->". He wanted to take us right to the hotel. But we told him we'd get out there, and that's when it became immediately evident that he was a low-life. First, he said it would cost about 500 rupees--he pointed to the meter and said that it read "18.00", when it clearly read "8.00"-the "1" was in fact a ":" that wasn't even part of the reading. We disputed him, and when it became clear that he wouldn't get away with that sleazy trick, he tried another. He started fiddling with the meter (right in front of our eyes) and changed the whole reading to a different set of numbers, one of which was a "1". "See, 1!", he said. Unbelievable. I was like, "Um, you clearly just changed the reading. That wasn't our reading." Pan-Pan said we were going to get out and ask what the proper rate should be from the train station, and he supported this decision. We went over to some people and asked how much it should cost. He came over to and started saying things in Hindu. His new tact was to try to convince them, or possibly us, that he had driven us from a station 25km north of Mumbai Central station, hence the higher charge. Of course, this was a blatant lie that we caught him on, and we had our ticket with the station name on it ready to prove it. I asked another passerby how much the ride should cost and he said about 100 rupees, and by this time a scene was beginning to form. Pan-Pan and I were furious by this point, while the idiot sleazeball was starting to see that he wasn't going to get away with anything. He relented that the meter reading was actually 8 and said to give him 150 rupees, which indeed was what his "official" chart said. But we didn't trust his chart either and said 110 rupees, which was all we had without breaking a 500. He didn't go for this, so I said, "how about we give you 110 rupees and I don't go to the police right now", and this deal seemed to work for him. I called him a cheat and said that people like him give India a bad name. He muttered something and basically ran off with his tail between his legs. We later realized that the reason for his attempts to get us to a hotel rather than the ticket office was that not only did he stand to get commission if we stayed there, but also he'd be able to ask his friends to confirm that we owed him 500 rupees. Pan-Pan and I were still furious, and even incredulous, at the brazeness of his sleazy attempts to rip us off. Still, I found something almost humourous about the whole thing, his idiocy and patheticness. The sad thing is that what gives him the gall to try these things is probably it having worked on less-discerning foreigners in the past. But he had to do a whole lot better than that to rip us off! The whole thing was also sad because he seemed like a nice guy on the way over, but that's India for you--the decent taxi or rickshaw drivers, i.e. the ones who take you where you want to go for a reasonable price, have no interest in making friendly chit-chat. Only the con-artists do this. Consequently, we always have made an effort to find the world-weary old men, too tired and apathetic for acts of capitalist sleaze, to take us where we want to go. Sometimes, alas, we let our guard down.

Mumbai is unlike the rest of India in that it's least back-wards looking to tradition and culture. Home of "Bollywood" it is, with Bangalore, India's youngest, fastest, and most modern city. You can even find beef in some restaurants! For dinner last night, we went to Leopold's Cafe, which is famous for being a place frequented by agents looking for foreign extras in Bollywood flicks. We saw a sea of white faces but not one agent looking for extras. Today we went to what was formerly called the Prince of Whales Museum, which had a terrific collection, particularly of old Hindu sculpture and bronze-work. We had an audio guide and spent at least two hours here. We had a scare when we couldn't get any ATM to accept our debit cards, but managed to get money from our VISAs when we went to a money changer. We took a taxi along the waterfront and had our first glimpse of the Arabian sea. We went to Malabar Hills to look for all the big mansions but couldn't find any, so we just went to Chowpatty Beach and walked along it until taking a cab back to our area for dinner. Unbelievably, this taxi driver also tried to rip us off. Because it was pouring rain (suddenly) and the meter, which is outside, was hard to read, he tried to convince us that it read 5.7 rather than 4.0. I went outside in the rain and checked it and we paid him for 4.0--these people are just shameless. We had some delicious chicken hyderabad and tikka for dinner and then came to this internet cafe. Pan-Pan has been finding a place in Goa to stay while I've been blogging.

We are both looking forward to Goa, even though Mumbai has lots to do. Tomorrow, we're taking a boat to the small island of Elephanta, and are planning on seeing the new Harry Potter movie at night. Then, we catch an 11:00 PM sleeper train to Goa. We're old hands at sleeper trains by now, and it shouldn't be a problem at all.

Goa will be relaxing, and after that, we just have Kerala, in the far south, and Pondicherry to visit, before flying back to Shanghai and then returning home. We have less than two weeks of our trip left, which is hard to believe. It is sad in a way, even though we're both ready to get back to the comforts of Canada.

Udaipur

We left Pushkar on a midnight bus that was forty minutes late. Walking to the bus station through the dark alleys, we heard a raucus approaching quickly in the dark, and it was this donkey being chased by a growling dog. They disappeared ahead of us in the night. Then a motorcycle ran by and this man said "a donkey's kick is worse than a man's!" The whole thing was surreal. As for the bus, it was pretty nice, but still a difficult experience, mainly because nobody would open the trunk to put our big bags in, so we had to keep them in this tiny, clausterphobic sleeper compartment with us, making it very, very cramped. We were at the very back of the bus, meaning that the bumpiness was unbelievable. Not fifteen minutes into the ride, I'm sorry to report that Pan-Pan started to cry, because she was so unhappy--this is the first time she has cried from transportation on this trip. She gets really bad motionsickness, if you recall, and it didn't get much worse than that. She threw up out the window, and then took two gravals, and was fine after that. I woke up in the middle of the night having to pee more than I ever had to before in my life, so I had to extricate myself from the compartment (no small feat) and ask the driver to pull over. He said we'd stop in five minutes, so I sat near the front and took my mind off my bladder with some of the most terrifying driving I've ever seen in my life. A giant bus barelling down a narrow road at 3 AM, veering out of the way of oncoming "Tata" trucks that for some reason always put their highbeams when they see us. Like China, India has yet to cultivate high-beam etiquette, and I felt sorry for the driver, but more than that I felt fear for our lives.

Anyways, we arrived in Udaipur safely, and it's a beautiful city. Like Pushkar, it's on a lake, but the lake is much, much bigger and the city doesn't encircle it. Udaipur's main claim to fame is its floating palace in the middle of the lake. Well, it isn't actually floating--it's built on an island. Of interest to Dad will be that this is Octopussy's palace in the James Bond movie of the same name. The locals really play up the connection, too, with a jewellry store bearing the same name, and local restaurants offering nightly showings of the movie. In fact, Pan-Pan and I had a delicious roof-top dinner last night, overlooking the lake and watching the movie--we could see the real palace, with its lanterns sparkling in the water, while also seeing it on TV! That was really neat. And it was a beautiful scene, Octopussy notwithstanding--the sun had just set over the city. We had some crazy monkey experiences when a troupe randomly decended from a higher part of the roof and made their way on the rail beside us to an adjecent roof. All the tourists were thrilled. Also, the sky became absolutely full of giant bats (I'm talking at least three feet wide, including wing span). I don't know where they came from--maybe nearby mountains--but there were just thousands of them.

Today took a paddle boat out on the water; this despite the fact that after Beijing I vowed never to go in a paddle boat again. We made our way towards the palace and as we got near I kept trying to ask whether we could dock there and explore it (it's not a fancy hotel, I think) but they kept shaking their arms "no". I yelled "can we come?" and some man yelled back, "no, no, no allowed". So we went around it and then went back (working up a massive sweat in the process!).

Udaipur is nice because it's so beautiful, and from what I can tell, relatively clean. Whereas Pushkar was a bit of a one-horse town, consisting mainly of one main drag along the water, Udaipur is much bigger and home to a lot of interesting artchitecture, temples and hotels. Tomorrow we are going in a private car with two French people to Ranakpur, two hours away, to see a famous Jain temple. At night we begin our journey to Mumbai, which we are not looking forward to at all. At 10 PM, we catch another sleeper bus to Ahmedebad, some shit-show near the Pakistani border where, ifI recall, there is occasionally violence. We get there at 4 AM, and need to be at the train station at 5 AM to catch a train to Mumbai, arriving at noon. Hopefully everything goes smoothly. Aside from the annoying stop over, which will be hectic and crazy, I have generally gotten completely used to very long train/bus rides.

No pictures because this computer has no USB connection, but don't worry Dad, I will show you the pictures of Octopussy's palace soon enough!

Jaipur and Pushkar

Jaipur (by Pan-Pan)

The best thing about Jaipur was the hotel we stayed in. It was a haveli, which is the old mansion of former Maharajahs. The place was huge, and had a peaceful garden full of attentive waiters. Our room was small, but tastefully decorated, and clean. Jaipur is full of vendors selling things, and we passed by many shops with folded silks and chiffons piled floor to ceiling. They were of all different colours (pinks, oranges, turqoises), all of them covered with decorative gold details. It was pretty overwhelming in fact, the whole shopping experience, but much better than Agra (which had so many hawkers and sellers and chaos that it basically made James lose the will to live for an afternoon). In the end, we bought some nice pashminas and blockprint fabrics and souvenir elephants. Oh one more note about Agra: we got there the very night the city celebrated Taj Mahal being named one of the new 7 wonders of the world, so there were film crews and festivities everywhere.

(our friendly shopkeeper in Jaipur. If you look closely, you'll even see some of the pashminas we bought!)

(We did see a few sights in Jaipur, one of them being Jantar Mantar, an ancient observatory. Right away, James started using an ancient astronomical tool to figure out whether there was going to be rain the next day...just kidding. We had no idea how those things worked.)

Pushkar (by James)

Pushkar is called a "mini-Varanasi" because it's also considered a holy city, on a sacred body of water. It is a very small city (so small that it's not even connected to the main bus lines) situated around a lake. Like Varanasi, there are ghats leading to the water on all sides. Also like Varanasi, there are tons of cows wandering about or lazing by the water. There are also lots of Indian holy men or "sadhus", identifiable by their long hair and beards, and the watering cans they carry around--their only possessions.

Because it's so atmospheric, the city is a real hot spot for tourists. There are a huge number of foriegners here, especially Israelie. (India is a hot spot for young Israelies to travel to after they complete their mandatory stint in the army, and before they go to university.) The city has a really hippy vibe to it. Apparently it's another part of India where the hippies came (and still come).

The city is also a true Rajhasthan experience, as its located on the edge of the desert. There are lots of camels going through the streets hauling carts.

We've had a really good time in this place. Our hotel is right on the lake, so every morning we just have to step outside onto the roof and look down at the water and the ghat right below us.
Today we went on a "camel safari", a three hour excursion-by-camel outside the town and around a nearby mountain. It was desert, but not sand dune-type desert-more like scrub brush, short grass and only the occasional tree. This was a painful experience. First, riding a camel isn't that comfortable. In fact, it got downright uncomfortable. Then, I got a face full of thorns when I failed to see a low hanging thorny branch and move my face in time. There was no blood but my face and neck got scratched up. And lastly, when I was mounting my camel after taking a break, he rolled over and knocked me off! Luckily I only fell in some sand so I didn't get hurt. My camel--"Krishna"--was really ill-tempered. It would always groan and make weird noises, and several times it tried to turn around and run in the wrong direction. I always get the ornery animals. Pan-Pan's camel, "Joni", was much better tempered.

Later in the day, we went back to the tourist agency to pick up our motorbike that we had rented. The plan was to ride around some of the deserted stretches of road outside of town. Well, this didn't go according to plan at all. First, I spent twenty minutes or so trying to learn how to operate a full on motorcycle. At one point, I got it started and before I knew what was happening, I was 200m down the road (kind of like what happened to you, Mom). Then the thing sputtered and died, and I had to some local boys to help me start it again. Eventually it was decided that it would be better if we took the gearless, smaller bike, which was almost more like a scooter, and much easier to operate. So we took this one and set out down the road, with Pan-Pan holding on tight and both of us generally scared as hell of the giant Indian "Tata" trucks that would barrel past us on our right. If at this point in the story, mothers are freaking out (and I should add that there were no helmets, even though we requested them!), they need not worry because our motorcycle adventure ended very quickly. We barely made it five minutes up the road when the damn thing died, or ran out of gas. I was really mad because the guy had had trouble getting it started before, and I asked if he was sure the thing worked. He said yes, we just had to drive to a gas station to fill it up, which we were attempting to do. Anyways, we stopped in front of this store/home(?) and this man got his son to siphon gas from his bike to get us enough to make it to the gas station. He charged us 40 rupees--hardly altruistic of him. Anyway, we didn't make it 20m before it died again, so this time we walked the bike to a phone and called the place and demanded that they come and bring us back. 20 minutes later another bike showed up, and after they tried fixing, they drove me and Pan-Pan back. Surprising enough, we even managed to get our money back. They offered us a working bike but we said "no thanks, we've had enough motorcycling for today". Then we went back to our place.

Tonight, at midnight, we are catching a sleeper bus out of Pushkar to Udaipur. Supposedly it's a delux bus, air-conditioned and very nice, but I'm not expecting this, even though we paid for it. In India, you have to get used to being ripped off in hundreds of big and small ways. So long as it has a sleeper and some open-able windows, I'll be fine.

Pictures:

(Two views of Pushkar from our hotel room window (left) and balcony (right))

(Joanie, the nicest camel I've personally ever met. Krishna was too cranky to be photographed)

(written by Pan-Pan)

Think of the most luxurious hotel you know, and multiply that by 100. That is the Amarvilas Hotel in Agra. Last night, James and I walked through some dark streets to reach this paradise. We walked in, were greeted by supremely well dressed doormen in full turban and gown, and entered the dome-like , sparkling lobby. Don't get me wrong, we weren't there to get a room! (Rooms start at $650 USD a night). We just went in pretending we were interested in getting a room and then got a full tour. It was great because it was like having a guided tour of an architecture wonder...for free! We were guided by a very well spoken young Indian man in Indian turban who called us "Sir" and "Madam". We saw the lit up pool area, which was like something out of a dream, plus the turqoise pool that is open 24/7. Everything was opulent, everyone was polite and respectful, the halls were lavishly decorated and the whole place was wonderfully cool. After the chaos and heat and hustle of the rest of India, it honestly felt like heaven. Our guide showed us one of the rooms, and it was just insane. The bathroom floors were made of marble, it had a balcony overlooking the Taj (as does every room at this hotel, somehow), and it was just so beautifully decorated. You would have loved it Mrs. Campbell, James says you like visiting nice hotels. Since it was night time, we couldn't get any pictures, so I took some off the internet to show you an idea of what its like.

(A room with a view of the Taj at Amarvilas)

Mark Twain once said "There are two types of people in the world: those who have seen the Taj Mahal and those who have not." Well I am thrilled to report that as of 6 am this morning, James and I are officially of the "have" group. I don't think pictures can do this monument justice, it is really just indescribably beautiful and luminescent. The whole thing is made of white marble, and it is inlaid with intricate flower designs made of precious stones. It really is a great monument to love - brief history: it was built by emperor Shan Jahan for his favourite wife who died during childbirth. Its whiteness has recently been protected by the Indian Government who has banned fueled vehicles from driving with a 2km radius of the Taj. (Note from James: They also don't turn on the lights at night, to prevent insects from landing on it.)

Us at the Taj Mahal. James is wearing his traditional Indian shirt and I'm wearing my traditional Indian dress called a Salwar Kameez (both tailor made)

We left Varanasi on a sleeper train headed for Dehli. The train station was just crazy--a mammoth concrete structure, serving at least four or five seperate rail lines, with people absolutely everywhere, mostly lying on the cement as they awaited their train. While Pan-Pan and I waited for our train, we made friends with some Indians waiting beside us. First, a student from a small village was very interested to know everything about me, so we talked for a while and he shared mangoes from his garden at home. On the other side of us were two little children. They'd show us their little toys and we took a picture of them, which they enjoyed immensely.



When the train arrived, at midnight, boarding it was just mayhem. Indian trains are just packed with people. We struggled with our packs through the narrow aisles, literally stepping over piles of sleeping babies and children, at an amazingly slow pace. When we finally got to our berth in the foreigners cabin, there were Indians sleeping there, so we had to shoo them away. This little girl in my berth really didn't want to leave but really there was no choice--I needed the entire space. We fell asleep pretty quickly and actually it was a pleasant enough sleep. When we woke up in the morning, we waited for at least five hours until we arrived. The train was about two hours late getting to Dehli.

When we arrived in Dehli, we walked to our hostel, which is very close to the train station. It's in the older part of town, right beside the train station, comprised of narrow streets lined with shops and hostels, sort of like Kathmandu but a million times more "Indian" (and it isn't as touristy as Kathmandu). Everyone yells out "Hello! Sir! Excuse me..." in an official sounding voice, so that you turn your head, but in fact they just want to peddle some useless trinkets, or maybe some clothes or jewellry. The streets are very hectic and bustling, packed to the brim with pedestrian traffic and motorcycles and rickshaws and cows.

Pan-Pan gets much unwanted attention that leaves us feeling sour about Indians, and I get very frustrated with all the hawkers and with rickshaw drivers who try to rip us off or want to take us on one of their personal "tours" of the city (with stops at their friends' shops, of course). In fact one time a rickshaw driver told me to get out of his rickshaw after I lost my temper at him.
But for every negative experience we have, there is at least one other positive one that sets the balance right. We meet interesting and friendly people, for instance, who just genuinely want to chat and learn about us, no hawking or scamming involved. We went to a McDonalds (at Pan-Pan's bequest-we had a McAloo [curried potatoes] because there is no beef!) and met a nice guy and had a long conversation. We have learned to keep an open mind, as much as possible, and to not ever think that we've figured out India. It's a bewildering place that we probably won't begin to make sense of until months after we get back. There are a billion people here and so obviously they are a mixed bag, like anywhere--but generally they seem like a genuine people.

Dehli is home to hundreds of thousands of impoverished people. At intersections, when the rickshaw is stopped, we are almost inevitably approached by small, dirty children, holding out their hands pathetically pleading for a coin, or mothers holding infants, or even cripples with missing legs crawling up beside us. It's all very sad, and we give sometimes, but we can't give all the time and in fact giving is illegal in Dehli. They want to discourage begging and the purported rings of beggers that make exploit children to collect money for them.

We've seen some very interesting sights in Dehli. At the center of Dehli is Connaught place, a huge ring of old buildings built by the British and now the sheek place for fashionable shopping (or a McAloo burger). Two days ago we went to the massive Red Fort, in old Dehli, and then explored the old streets looking for Karim's restaurant, a national landmark. The same day we went to the largest mosque in India. The best, though, was visiting a Sikh temple. A man led us around and showed us where to take off our shoes, where to wash our hands, how to sit, and everything, and he didn't even expect any money in return (this was a relieving surprise for us!) This temple can house 20,000 people in its dorms, and you don't have to pay anything. You don't have to pay for food either. It's all free by the temple. It was a great experience seeing the whole thing, like the meal halls or the massive kitchens where everything is made, or the prayer hall itself.

Yesterday we explored New Dehli, first going to Parliament and then India Gate, and then Humayum's tomb, which is what inspired the Taj Mahal. I will post pictures when I have more time. Yesterday we also went and saw Shrek III at a big theatre in a very priviledged and modern part of Dehli. It was all very interesting, but the heat is incredible. I've never sweated so much in my life. Because of this, it is very easy to get frustrated and tired and grouchy. It is a significant factor when deciding how to get around (walking vs. rickshaw) or what to do. I often miss Canada.

Today we are catching a four hour train to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, and the day after that we are going to Jaipur, in the desert land of Rajasthan. We're very much looking forward to seeing the Taj, and to leaving Dehli, which is just overwhelming!