So that happened

I was trying to remember the last time I had written here and I realized that it didn't matter, for DOING the distracting things is often better than merely being distracted by thoughts of them. As many of you may notice, I have not gone philandering about in Istanbul, Italy, or Ireland--yet. Still in that "pIe" in the sky, India, and still intrigued as usual. I've forgotten what's been said when to whom, but here is what I've been thinking.

Udaipur, the City of Lakes, was tragically ironic as it sat moodily amongst dry, dusty lake beds. The "Venice of the East" was thus a little lackluster, but perhaps for the best. My goodness though, the romance of the desert will not let go. Udaipir, "Venice of the East", "City of Lakes", location of much "Octopussy" filming...a lovely, odd place to spend almost 5 days. The first day, my palm was read and--I'm not sure what strength I believe certain things--I was told similar things as in some recent unsolicited readings. I was recommended to find--or to accept as a gift *wink--a pearl to wear as a channel through which the cooling strength or moonlight can course to calm my over thinking. As each day unwound, our bizarre community of travellers, and hotel staff would watch the cricket match playing in the dried-up lake while the sun set over the palaces. Monsoon rains there yield the most exquisite show; while erratic lightening and thunder continued as the storm passed to the north, thousands upon thousands of massive bats flew continuously through the sky, as if drawn by the passing torrent. About the size of mallard ducks, I didn't recognize them as bats at first.

Leaving Udaipur on the back of a motorbike, with henna-ed hands holding all my stuff, I was excited to move on while at the same time hesitant to leave new friends. The experience of welcomeness and good reception in Udaipur was squashed immediately in Agra. I feel that I will be back in Agra in the future, so I am not sad about this trip. However, the marriage proposal and other unwanted proposals from my cab driver make me perfectly content to NOT visit Aggro Agra in the near future. I erred in my planning and the day I was leaving, tried to see the Taj in the morning. Note: The Taj Mahal is closed on Fridays. Harrumph.

One night in Delhi...oh, Delhi. How I disliked you before, and now, in all your smelly, hurried, outdated spaceship glory, how I feel comforted when I return. Getting comfortable travelling around has made it possible to enjoy, rather than merely endure, Delhi. Plus the newish metro is awesome. Had to ward off some unwanted offers after what I believed to be a simple conversation over coffee, but all in the name of travelling. It's also fun when you start recognizing tourists from other cities. Ah, tree people.

I caught an early train to Haridwar on the 27th where thousands of people were milling about. The most chaotic bus stand yet awaited me across the street where I narrowly avoided being squished between two cantankerous old buses that eventually DID hit one another. The new scrapes immediately blended in with the old. After being guided to the correct bus, we took off for Rishikesh. I loved the desert, but the river was calling my name. Apparently I wasn't the only one. The holy Mother Ganga flows past a massive statue of Shiva and the banks and ghats are overwhelmed by pilgrims and visitors. Rishikesh is much calmer, but still larger than expected. My first room overlooked Laksman Jhula, a ped bridge crossing over the river right next to the MASSIVE temple. The yoga center and ashram focus in northern India, Rishikesh is strewn with drop-crotched hipsies and apricot-bedecked sadhus, everyone smoking charas, or so I believe. Mmm. I heard the comparison, "if smoking weed is like drinking whiskey, smoking hash is like drinking scotch." In my eyes, all of the above are quite enjoyable.
After the whirlwind travel of the past twenty days, I had to escape. So I headed upstream and scrambled down towards the water. There is something different in that river. I was so happy and filled with so much energy after I plunged into the glacial runoff. Plus I saw something that triggered my competitive, adventurous side. Rafting. There were rafts passing by. The decision made, that same night I arranged to go rafting the next morning. Poopoo rapids, but MASSIVE water. Eddies became whirlpools with enough power to capsize and trap rafts. I think I swam--by choice--about half the stretch. Played around with the boat and guides afterwards flipping and reflipping the boat, laughing like a crazy woman the whole time. Hahaha. That night was relaxed; I finished the book "In Exile from the Land of Snows" and met a big group of friends and cousins from Delhi and Saharanpur. We chatted and decided to hang out the next night as well. Good times. I moved to Rasta Cafe Guesthouse for secluded, cheap, peaceful space and got it. I ended up staying for over a week, spending my days riding around on the back of a motorcycle visiting waterfalls and temples, and my evenings smoking up in good company.
Oh. My. Goodness. BHANG LASSI. Hahaha. I had tried bhang cookies and was pleased with my experiences, so I decided to try the famous special lassi. I had two glasses in the late evening. I was laid SO low, it's ridiculous. I couldn't keep myself from falling asleep, that night, or the whole next day, of which I only spent about 30 minutes vertical. WOW. But on a lighter note, hash-chocolate balls? Delicious. Mmmm. But again, only in very limited quantities or it's light's out for me. I would feinitely recommmend trying some edibles to others, but be in safe company and near to where you are staying.
Towards the end I was feeling very restless, so I hopped a bus to Chandigarh, being very sweaty as I did so. The next day, I explored a little of the city that was planned by French architect Le Corbusier. I believe it when I hear that it is India's greenest and cleanest city; the wide, tree-lined boulevards intersecting with massive tournabouts give the feeling of openness. There are cycle/ped paths, too !
While cruising around, decided to check out the Fantasy Rock Garden put together by trash-collector Nek Chand. Using recycled porcelain, electrical outlets, bottle caps, and other treasures, he created this truly fantastical, 20-hectare dreamworld that is only a few steps away from walking through someone else's acid trip. Fun times.
An early morning bus has brought me to Manali. The final hour convinced me there might be some truth to Shangri-La. Himalayan peaks crest the edges of a valley where the glacier-fed river Beas with clearly boatable rapids runs between wind-beaten apple orchards carpeted by ganja plants. Dark wood-paneled houses pop up amongst massive boulders, their many-windowed second stories look so right as a place to call home. A deep breath of fresh mountain air and I'm in my element.
My room and balcony look out over the river from the hill village of Vashisht, and I can see rock and snow further up, where the bright white clouds erupt into blue sky. I'm not making any of this up; it's truly amazing.

True to form, India remains incredible. I find it difficult to make plans, as each place pulls you in, creating a lovely trap of sensory explosion. But I want to try and make it further north into the Himalayas to Leh in Ladakh to see those peaks and to visit with a good friend. My previous plans of trotting through the Mediterranean are not happening on this trip. Have to keep some of the world open to visit in the future, right ? Enough of this. Love you all.

EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE.

Namaste.