Bangkok Day 4: Bangkok, USA

So I'm finally recovered from a full day of upset tummy...only one day, thank god. Nice to know that my life doesn't turn into an epi of ER every time I get sick. Great day today, all told. Started gingerly, with a breakfast of steamed rice and fresh coconut milk. The former because it's easy on the tummy, the latter because it's easy on the tummy, it's a good rehydrater, and cmon, if you were in thailand, wouldn't you drink a freshly opened coconut every day? I know I plan to.

Then it was off to the malls. Not particularly cultural, no. I accompanied Natacha on a shopping venture to the middle of the city, Siam Square. She's been dreaming of buying a handheld video camera ever since she passed one up on the B & H website before we left, and we got a few reccos on where to go, so we did.

A gorgeous boat ride and a clean, cool skytrain ride later, we were in the IT Center, a 6-story mall filled with nothing but tech. mobile phones, laptops, desktops, and all the pirated software you could shake your discs at. Quite a scene.

Of course, we had to go up to the top floor to find Natch's bounty...a sanyo handheld WATERPROOF video cam. Can you imagine anything better for travel? We'll certainly find out, as we walked out with it, plus a couple of cheap SD cards.

Then it was off to the mall I wanted to go to, the infamous MBK, where supposedly all the teenagers go. I was hoping to find some cutting edge J-pop (or even T-pop) trinkets. And while the place was pretty interesting, all the stuff there was...well, there were t+shirts, toys, all sorts of fantastic food...pretty much the stuff I would have dug as a teenager...but currently find old and boring. Oh cruel irony.

So we spent the day in AC malls, which was fabulous for my tummy recovery, and in the evening, we saw the IRON MAN movie. which was great fun. As I wrote my dad, "you'd love it...its about a munitions dealer who sees the error of his ways, and along the way he gets to kick some terrorist ass." AND there's superheroes!

So. Shopping and eating. Chalk this day up to further recovery from India...just another day in a major metropolitan city. Except for the coconut thing.

India Day 8: City Palace, yes. Lake Palace...?

I write this from one of India's many internet cafes (roughly 80 cents an hour!), and there is another one right next door...or rather, there was. Their servers were down all day today, and this evening they place seemed to be gutted, and there are construction noises coming through the wall as I write this.

So. Udaipur Day Two started off in a very india-style fashion, with Natacha and I waiting on the roof of our guest house for the yoga instructor who supposedly gives classes there every morning. He arrived 45 minutes late, saying he was sorry, he was out late as his office party was last night. We later found out that he's a government employee who is a friend of the guesthouse owner. Most likely he just does this so he can get a practice in every morning and juice the guests for donations. Which he did. He led us through a practice that was fine for him but too advanced for us, with no instruction but "change" (positions) We have yet to understand why India is the yoga captial of the world, and not, say, Marin County.

After that was breakfast at the guesthouse's rooftop resto, some chatting with the other diners, and off to Udaipur's City Palace. This is the one in the middle of the Old City; we decided to hold off on seeing the lake palaces until the end of day, so we could take a boat around them at sunset.

The Udaipur City Palace was impressive, more so than Jaipur's. plus we had a tour guide giving us the lowdown. Like the courtyard is so big the entertainment there was elephant tug-of-wars. And there is a huge centuries-old tree that seems to be rooted on the fourth floor of the palace. Think about that for a moment. (HInt: the palace is built on a hill).

I know, we've seen a couple of palaces already, and we'll see more before we're done, but Udaipur's was nothing less than sensational. Tiles from Holland. Ornaments from Russia. Gold this, gold that. Humongous courtyards, inside and out. Magnificent views of the city. Complex rope-and-pulley systems that allow the servants to operate (read: pull) the fan that keeps the prince cool in his room round-the-clock. But I guess when you can afford a pair of palaces on the lake and one in the city, a decorating budget is easy to scare up.

Turns out the latest Maharaja of Udaipur is a young man at Uni in Australia. And I understand he's single, ladies.

After that, there was a long lunch at another rooftop restaurant, this one with an insane view of a huge Jain temple smack dab in the middle of the city. And a long conversation with a lovely British couple (he a biologist, she a nurse) on the cusp of finishing a year of traveling. And just in time, as she was pregnant. Planned but sooner than planned. So long lunches were par for them at this point.

(We've met a number of couples travelling for a year or more, mostly european, and while they've all been great to talk to (my faves being Marie and Greg), I'm jealous as hell of them. Compared to them, our three months looks wimpish. I have to remind myself that they are europeans, and as such get tons of vacation time, they get to have "career breaks," etc. Considering we suckers in the USA get barely a third of the vacation time that they do), our three months is comprable--and to Americans, it's HUGE. So there, Ken. Okay, that's my one paragraph of whingeing I'm allowed.)

By the time we get to the boat to the lake palaces, it was POURING rain. in the friggin' desert for frick's sake! So the boat to the palaces isn't going. But we are, out of Udaipur, to Jodphur, the next day. So no Octopussy moment for us.

And Udaipur? Not so romantic. and the heavy foot & rickshaw traffic kinda takes the shine off those narrow european type streets. If I had the choice again, I might just give it a miss.

Ah well. We had an amazing sunset the day before. And there is a lot of beauty here. Gotta appreciate what you've got. And there's dinner with the charming Marie and Greg, whom we first met & dined with in Pushkar and Natacha ran into here later in the eve. Travel, it giveth and it...well, it mostly giveth. Which is nice.

India Day 7: Guilt and Papayas

So. We get up at the f'n CRACK, throw on our clothes & packs, and stumble through the streets of Pushkar in efforts to meet Ramesh at the 6:30 am meeting time.

While stumbling, it occurred to us that, this early in the morning, we were less likely of being harrassed by priestouts at the ghats, and took a quick detour to visit one of the larger ghats. And so were 15 minutes late to meet Ramesh.

Which normally wouldn't have been a problem.

Turns out there were some seriously crossed wires going on. See, we told him that we'd call him if we wanted to get picked up later than 6:30. No call meant "6:30 A-OK!" We thought.

But HE thought that we were going to call to check in regardless. So he got there at 6 AM, and when we showed up, boy was he pissed.

Once we got on the road, he really let us have it. He told us all the cautionary tales about Pushkar, dangerous land of backpacker grifts.

There was the couple who went to a crooked guest house (run, in Ramesh's telling, by Muslims, of course) and got robbed, drugs planted on them, some such. Then there's the infamous "Bang Lassi" story, in which a hapless femalie is given a drugged yoghurt drink. Think "roofie." We later heard the story of a friend of a fellow traveler who did have one of those, but it was by choice (like an Amsterdam "space cake."). Then there was the guy who got dope planted on him by his guest house, so he had to pay off the cops (and the guest house got a piece).

Or there are the stories of Pushkar men who work in the shops & restaurants, who seduce & marry tourist women, go back to their country, then take all their money, go back to Pushkar, and start over. Beware, Ladies!

Were any of these stories true? Ramesh seemed to think so. But more important, he said that when a professional guide is in charge of tourists that go missing, the Guide gets arrested for losing track of them! And since cars weren't allowed in Pushkar, he couldn't check on us. So we felt bad. We apologized and in return got stonewalled by Ramesh. Which didn't suck.

Regardless, it was a long drive to our next stop, Udaipur.

If you've ever looked at Udaipur on a map, you know that it's out of the way on the standard Rajastan loop--5-7 hours south of Pushkar, 5-7 hours south of Jodphur. But the Lonely Planet said the lake palace was amazing, and other travelers told us that it was "romantic and european," so we put it on our itinerary.

Because of the length of the drive, it was late in the day when we asked Ramesh if we could stop for lunch. There weren't any of his beloved tourist trap commission places along the way, so we ended up at a little roadside stand just outside the hills surrounding Udaipur.

We sat down on woven flats to eat a couple of very spicy dishes with Parantha (bread), sitting with Ramesh as he told jokes about us in Hindi to the men at the stand. Everyone was laughing but N & I.

But as we ate, a bunch of girls gathered at the stairs leading behind the stand. They were the wives, mothers, and (mostly) daughters of the men who ran the place. They looked at us a giggled a while. Because, of course, we are white and foreign and therefore hilarious.

Finally one of them said something to one of the men, who said something to Ramesh, who passed it to us: Could they take Natacha to their home? It was right behind & just below the stand. Natacha agreed and went with these 7 or so females. 20 minutes later, she returned, carrying a huge green papaya. Turns out they'd shown her the kitchen, and were just generally mezmerized with her. We stayed a while longer to talk with them (via Ramesh) and take some photos.

Natacha, kind soul that she is, worried about not having any gifts to given them in return. So she dug into her pack and gave them hair chopsticks and cough drops. Hey, what would YOU have done?

Finally heading into Udaipur, Ramesh offered once again to find us a place to stay. Since we still felt guilty about the Pushkar thing, we let him lead the way. He took us to a place that the Lonely Planet did mention, a lovely hotel with a swimming pool that was roughly double what we'd dream of paying. Big "R" was in top form.

After getting lost a few times in the center of Udaipur old town, we located a place ourselves and sent him on his way so we could spend two Ramesh-less nights in Udaipur.

We spent that first afternoon walking through the narrow, crowded streets and sitting on the Ghat overlooking the lake. You can see the golden palace in the lake, an immense white structure immortalized in the film "Octopussy." We found a fancy hotel with a rooftop restaurant, ordered the cheap dishes, and watched the sun set over the lake, the twin palaces, a mosque, and a very busy day.

(UPDATE: Many) Indians are short

(Caveat: this post was written after bumping my head on yet another doorway here in India. What can I say? It gets me mad. Apologies to my peeps Lakshman, Kapil and Rahul, who are all quite tall, and to anyone of Indian persuasion who is not in the business of planning or building doorways in India. And now, the post:) Is this a generalization? I say no.

How do I know this? Because in our thirty days thus far, I have bumped my head on like A HUNDRED FUCKING DOORWAYS.

Goddamn OUCH!

Granted, I've met Indian people who are tall. Okay, like three. But they're not the ones building the fucking DOORWAYS, are they?

Nothing makes me want to hulk out and smash stuff like bumping my head on a doorway. And I'm a sloucher, for god's sake!

No, it's not the Indians' fault that they're a short(ish) people...but it IS their fault that they don't build their doorways higher.

And I imagine I'm going to have a BALL in Southeast Asia. :-(

Did I mention OUCH?

India Day 6: Huckster Ghats and Hippie Ghettos

I have discovered that no matter where we are in the world--or how FREAKING hot it is in our room--nothing puts me to sleep faster than listening to people talk on my MP3 player. So far my talk of choice is comedy--I downloaded the Comedy Death Ray collection before we left--something like two hours of mostly-great standup for the price of lunch at In N Out. But I had no idea I'd be listening to it so often. You can only listen to Paul F. Tompkins do his bee fetish routine so many times.

So I'm frantically downloading as many talkshow & comedy podcasts as I can shove over this Internet Cafe's broadband connex. Jimmy Pardo, do not fail me as a sleep aid or I swear I will geld you.

Anyways, the long download times let me get into a really interesting destination on our trip: Pushkar.

We were picked up at our Jaipur guest house by Ramesh, who was noticeably grumpy, likely because we stayed at a place that was actually comfortable and popular, and therefore had no need to pay him a commission for taking us there. Good. We piled in and headed to Pushkar, a place we were told was a very spiritual one: 130 temples surrounding a lake in the middle of desert. not on our orig itinerary but sounded great. Ramesh thought that we'd stay in Amer, the larger city outside of Pushkar, and got a bit pissy when we told him,no, we wanted to stay in Pushkar proper. Obviously he wanted to get us into a commission hotel. obviously we were itching to be rid of him for a day and a night.

He drove us as far has he could into Pushkar (cars aren't allowed there) and we agreed to meet him at the same spot at 6:30, and that we'd call him on his cel if we wanted to leave later. As soon as we left the car, we were set upon by one priest after another. Or rather, "priests." See, Pushkar is filled with these guys who try to give you ceremonial flowers to throw into Pushkar's famous Ghats, then lead you through the ritual, then ask for a donation. Really annoying. and of course Ramesh did nothing to ward them away from us. Y'know, like a guide is paid to do.

So we shook him, and them, off and headed down the main drag, getting touted by more priests, auto-rickshaw drivers, guest houses, clothing, shops, etc. every step of the way. It was like we were back in Delhi. It was hot and annoying but we eventually found our way to the guesthouse that was recco'd to us by a French woman we met at the Pearl Palace. It was a quiet (yay!) cheap oasis from the Pushkar chaos.

Once we got a little space, we noticed that the town was full of backpackers, all making themselves comfortable as only backpackers do: eating jaffles, drinking tea, trying not to look too stoned, etc. That, and the plethora of restaurants advertising Israeli food, made us realize that this was a total backpacker's ghetto. Skinny Dutch dudes in sarongs with no shirts and braided facial hair. That kind of thing. It's a place where backpackers come, and stay for days. And why not? Plenty of home-type food, cafes to hang out in, and stuff to buy. It's also a place where you can take a a course in painting, yoga, etc.

But except for the temples and the ghats, it's also a place sans culture.

The lake, and the ghats & temples that surrounded it, were peaceful & sublime, but hard to enjoy without getting touted everywhere.

we did manage to walk around the lake, even in the intense heat.

At the opposite side we met a charming israeli couple, who confirmed the Israelis-are-everywhere-in-India syndrome. After their army service, they go travelling. He said, that these young, newly free kids settle in somewhere and change it to suit them. "Well," I replied, "If you can do it to the desert, you can do it anywhere, eh?" We had a good laugh at that.

We also met a crazy dutch guy who talked in travel-vernacular non-sequiturs and proved to us that too much solo travel isn't necessarily a good thing.

Eventually we got back to the town center and took a yoga class. Just us in a room full of open shutters. He took some time to explain yoga was, but his accent was so think I didn't get all of it. I gathered it was mostly about balance- each position has it's active & passive muscles, etc.

By The end of the practice, the wind really picked up outside. The lights went out so the teacher lit the practice with his cel phone. Then all the shutters started slamming open & shut. It was really interesting to have the elements outside be so active during our session.

When we finished, we walked into the courtyard, which the yoga place shared with a large temple. Which was holding a festival of some sort. Which infolved everyone pushig a huge wooden idol on a wheeled altar around the courtyard while the people sang, held torches near it, and banged drums. Facinating.

The wind continued to pick up and then, rain. Then a blackout--everything on the streets, dark.

WE found a restaurant that was serving despite that, a rooftop place atop a four-story building. They served Mexican food, played Bob Marley. One of Pushkar's many hippie backpacker joints. After we ordered, the wind REALLY picked up. So much that the 15-foot-high sign outside the restaurant broke a tether and threatened to fall four stories to the ground. AS it swung to & fro, we heard screams from the ground. Fortunately the staff grabbed it and brought it inside in time, propping it up on the wall near us.

We and the other customers were ushered into a room indside the building and served there. People kept coming in, and eventually the room was crammed with Canadian college jocks, mixed-race couples in flowing fabrics, middle-aged women talking about their side businesses selling fabrics and jewlery, even the dutch guy with the hair showed up. It was a real microcosm of backpacker culture.

Later that night, when the lights were back on everywhere but the streets, I did something stupid. After trying to upload my photos at a cyber-cafe and failing--until midnight, mind you--I walked home, after all the stores were closed, which meant I had to walk the 4-5 blocks back through the dirt streets in pitch darkness. I tried to use my camera flash to light my way (see photos below)...which was just as stupid. I stepped into at least one puddle, and at some point a dog barked at me and aI almost shat myself. So that was Pushkar.

India Day 5: Jaipur, Fort, Shopping

EXTREMELY productive day today, travel-wise. Our second day in Jaipur, and the one which Natacha & I were able to enjoy together.

We started in the morning with a quick drive through the Old City of Jaipur. It's called the "Pink City" because like 150 years ago some important British royal came to visit, and the people of Jaipur painted the old city his favorite color, pink. Said royal reportedly really appreciated it. Now, it's clay-brown with pink piping, which is probably more low-maintenance; shows less dirt and whatnot. I can respect that.

Then it was on to the Amber Fort, one Rajastan's absolutely humongous forts. Here, a "fort" isn't just a military emplacement. It's where they kept everything royal-family-oriented, surrounded by a huge wall and defended by arrow-shooting turrets. The forts are big enough to hold palaces, temples, harems, etc., and Amber is by far no exception.

The decor was astounding. We saw harem quarters, a temple decorated with thousands of tiny ceramic-backed mirrors, even an ancient air conditioner,which used running water for coolant. We also saw elephants, which you could ride up the hill into the fort.

And there were monkeys!

Then we had Ramesh drop us off (which is always a "Whew) and had lunch across from the Old City, I got a haircut (about which more later)...

...and like 3 hrs of shopping. We found a great local sari shop with just amazing colors, wall to wall people, and no tourists (except us).

Then it was off to shop for one of Jaipur's famous exports--precious stones.

Later in the day, I took Natacha to a place I knew she'd love: Janter Manter, a centuries-old observatory the Maharaja of Jaipur built. No telescopes here, and sadly, no LaserRock. But they did have really fascinating devices to measure the paths of the sun and stars and the location of the earth in relation to it all. Think "giant sundials" and you've got half the idea.

I liked Jaipur quite a bit. It's the capital city of Rajahstan, but more low-key (compared to Delhi, certainly), with a beatiful old city and few touts except for the autorickshaw drivers. And it wears its history proudly on its clay-with-pink-piping-colored sleeve. I wouldn't have minded staying another day, but our next destination beckoned.

India Day 4: Musical Guesthouses

Not the best day for Natacha, but it ultimately worked out ok.

The previous night was a sleepless one, in a very cheap guesthouse (which our driver recommended), where the heat was sweltering, and the screens on the windows were busted. meaning we slept drenched in DEET with the fan on--and 'Tach was so concerned by skeeters that she slept fully clothed. I don't know if you've ever done this yourself, but your first time out just traumatizes your body. She ate nothing for breakfast & spent the morning sleepingin the car on the way to our next destination, the Rajastani city of Jaipur.

Ramesh our driver told us from the beginning that he was from Jaipur, so we gave him the benefit of the doubt and asked him to suggest a guesthouse that had, for Natacha's sake, had AC, and fit our budget. So.

He took us to a place that seemed servicable at first, so we dropped off our stuff and hung out in the room to relax. Until I realzed the bed was dirty. and had human hair in it.

And there was a docrot's office two floors down, directly above the restaurant. which is one of those tourist grifts they tell you about--the restaurant gives you food poisoning, and you're immediately taken to the doctor. oH but there's more.

Because the hotel was in the middle ofr what seemed to be a parking lot for tour busses. And for some reason, these (parked) tour busses seened to need to test their horns. Constantly. How much are we hating our driver right now?

So, despite the fact that Tash needed to rest in an A/C room, I took us out of there and made Ramesh take us to another hotel. Which turned out to be too expensive, but he got to collect his commission anyway, just for taking us there. And then another. Which turned out to be more than we wanted to pay, but less than the other one, and was clean, comfortable, and all around fantastic. The Pearl Palace Hotel in Jaipur, if you're wondering.

I got Tash settled in to rest, left her to sleep and went to visit Jaipur's charming-but-after-the-Taj-unimpressive City Palace.

Then back to the Pearl, where I had a lovely dinner convo with an 80 yr old British lady named Una, a retired child psychologist who was in the middle of a sort of "These are all the sights I want to see before I die" trip: Petra, Jodphur, Angkor Wat, etc. Natch slept that whole day and night, and after that we knew better than to put our trust in ol' Ramesh.

A few thoughts while natacha's off using skype

-We're about to take our first night train. 14 hours in what apparently will be the low(er) class sleeper car. no a/C but it's night train so we may not need it. wish us luck! -i got offered two freelance gigs while here; managed to refer friends for both of them. friend one booked his; friend two's in the process of connecting with the other. i am an international power broker.

-there are cows fucking EVERYWHERE here. in the streets, the alleys, the backyards, the highways, by the sides of roads. (UPDATE: "fucking" is used as an intensifier here. I never actually saw cows having sex)

-there are about as many stray dogs as there are cows. not cute dogs, no. hungry, mangy, desperate dogs. the look in their eyes is the same as that in the men who try to get us into their retail stall/autorickshaw/travel agency. so far i've only seen one dog that i actually wanted to pet, and that was because it was a hungry desperate puppy.

-There is a lot of shit in the streets, more even than in paris, by a long shot actually. i'll spare you further detail.

-i have seen two different forts here that are simply unbelievable. massive structures that take up entire tops of hills and are so huge that they have anyhere from one to two temples and one to four palaces on the grounds.

Jaw-dropping stuff.

-The song 'Mad Dogs and Englishmen" is truer than i ever realized.

Day Two/Delhi: In Which We Punt

Okay. So day one was great. We landed, the hotel guys came and took us to our mid-priced-but-swanky-for-us hotel (which I splurged on as a sort of "culture shock airlock" for us). Snack kiosk

Headed across various highways towards Delhi, seeing two and three people per motorcycle, cars that looked simultaneously new and forty years out of date, and impossibly thin dirty children living under the overpasses. That, and everything around us looked oven-baked. Welcome to Delhi.

We got to the marble-floored (did I mention swanky) hotel lobby, and no sooner than we do does Natacha spot a french accent and starts up a convo with the young couple checking in next to us. They're grad students doing a semester in India, and they're helping get two friends of theirs checked in.

So we end up going to lunch with the four frenchies at a dynamite southern indian place in nearby Connaught Place, learning about the dos and dont's of India, and generally having a great time. This barely 90 minutes after touching down in the country. We joined them for a bit of a walk-around CP, spent some time at a city temple where people stopped by to pay worship ($, food, flowars) at the altars of a dozen different gods. As Chuck's girlfriend Debbie warned us, many of these people brought their animals with them, and since you have to remove your shoes before entering a temple, I had my first real exposure to the "everything in India is covered in a thin layer of shit" theory one of Natacha's friend shared with us. We then headed to the room to wash thoroughly and sleep off the 20-odd hour flight

So that was Day One.

Day Two, we spent walking around CP (the city center) and formulating travel plans. Needless to day, Delhi is an incredibly vibrant city, teeming with life and color. It's also teeming with dirt, traffic, and people who seemed to view us as wallets with legs. Beggars galore, and also what the Lonely Planet calls "touts:" people who latch onto you in the street and try to sell you things, mostly transportation or tours, or they're trying to "direct" you towards the "good" travel agency. A typical tout encounter is this:

You're walking down a street in Delhi. An Indian man keeps pace with you for a while, then greets you, sympathizes with how hot it is, and immediately tries to offer you things. And doesn't stop. And doesn't take no for an answer the first 50 times. Occasionally, you'll get one who says that he's not trying to sell you anything, but is trying to "helpfully" guide you towards the "real," i.e. government-approved, travel agency. after the first dozen of them you catch on. And your sense of humor is all that will keep you from an international murder rap

So after hours of these guys--including one at the restaurant who I though was being a genuinely nice guy, but Natacha knew better--we FINALLY find the ACTUAL government-approved travel agency, i.e. the one that won't rip us off. afternoon rickshawsAnd it's our second day. And we (mostly I) REALLY want to visit the sights of Rajastan, which hosts most of the "classicly india" sights like the Taj Mahal and the Jaisalmer fort. And we have 13 days before we have to meet Natacha's friend at the southernmost tip of the country. And the sights of Rajastan loop takes most people two weeks minimum. And after hours of Delhi heat and touts affecting our judgement. So we, as I put it, punted. We took the decidedly tourist move of hiring a car & driver to take us around Rajastan.

Now, it's not entirely unheard of to do this. My dad, who's covered more ground than Alexander the Great, does this in most places he goes. People we talked to who'd been here, had suggested it as a viable alternative to India's oft-chaotic bus and train process. And we'd just gotten there, for christ's sake, and didn't know if we could handle the classic forms of backpacker transport, at least not when faced with a deadline.

So we did it, pondered our decision for hours, but were still genuinely glad we'd made one. It's not going to sink us financially...we'll do the night trains and bus station slaloms in the last 3 weeks of our time here. But I've no doubt shamed myself in the eyes of my buddy James Murphy.

Anyhoo, as I write this, we've continued to have a wonderful time, despite almost getting heatstroke in the middle of the night, Natacha getting sick for a day but bouncing back in time to go shopping, and my getting my breath taken away by the Taj Mahal. One of the Seven Wonders, folks.

Desperately trying to upload photos on this crappy guest house PC, and failing. More later!

India Day 1: Good God, We're Here

Delhi, that is. As in India. Mercy. HELL of a trip to get here...hell, it took us a day-and-a-half just to get to LAX. We had about a day and a half to finish getting the house ready, didn't leave 'til rush hour, spent the night in a Days Inn where the I-5 and Highway 41 meet, and got in to LA a hearty 9 hours before we were due at the airport. We had a wierd and utterly scrumptious lunch with my Dad at a Oxacan restaurant he found in WLA/Venice...best freakin' mole north of the border.

Then it was errand frenzy for, you know, four hours, packing, re-packing, going to Longs Drugs and asking the Pharmacist's assistant's assistant which over the counter eye lube works better (instead of asking her why so few answers, so much attitude, so little bathing, and what was up with that colony of moles on her cheek?)

Then a lightning-fast dinner in Santa Monica. And Ila & Mort shlepping us to the airport three hours early so we could hurry up and wait. Then me embarassing Natacha by insiting on finishing up my yoga routine by the departure gate.

The plane trip--all two legs and 22 ours of it--were fairly uneventful. Except for my popping an Ambien and waking up 6 hours later in the next seat over. Turns out the little filippino lady sitting between me & natacha had to pee and couldn't get past me. At least that's what I was told.

Caught like 4 movies on the flight(s): Juno (made me cry), Beowolf (hair-raising yet strangely literary thrill ride), and August Rush which, as I told Natacha after viewing it, was "more like Nauseous Gush." Total cavity-inducing suckfest, but Natacha fell asleep on my shoulder ten minutes in and one thing I've learned about being a husband is sometimes it's more important to just be a pillow.

Also some fun little Tawainese TV shows, which I took some phone snaps of and will upload later. Nutty!

Then there was Delhi--meeting frenchies, dodging tuk-tuks, eating fantastic food, disparaging touts, and just soaking up being in India--but I've blown so much time

uploading my photos and writing this post so far that I need to go to bed.

Here's a few photies to keep all three of you reading this. Check the Flickr site for captions that tell more of a story.

Stop! In the name of God Night Bazar, Backpacker's Ghetto, Delhi Race ya! Night Bazar, Backpacker's Ghetto, Delhi

We get up in like five hours to go on a twelve-day trip to Rajastan. Can't wait.