Backpacking is certainly not a high class way to travel and in the past few weeks we’ve been discovering how low can we go. Bus rides. Himalaya Mountains. Days and days of jam packed public buses swerving up and down the steepest, most dangerous roads in the world. Surprisingly we weren’t the only people deranged
Rishikesh is famous for several reasons: for yogis Rishikesh is the world capital of Yoga, for Shaivas it’s the location of a holy 12 km pilgrimage from the Ganges to a famous temple and for Beatles fans Rishikesh is where the Fab Four discovered transcendental meditation and wrote the BEST ALBUM EVER. The Beatles stayed in
That damn Beatles ashram was difficult to find. Instead of spending a lazy afternoon exploring the abandoned grounds where the White Album was written, we followed thousands of charras-smoking Shiva pilgrims on a 12km hike to the Neelkanth Temple. The road immediately turned into a dirt path heading straight uphill. At each turn we were
India is not a country where you can simply observe, you’re compelled to participate. If you don’t join willingly, there are a billion people who will take you by the hand and physically persuade you to become part of this country. We dropped by Haridwar to find a city full of orange-clad men chanting and parading
India is a study in contrasts; for ever unequivocal statement about this country, the absolute opposite is often true. The only absolute thing you can say about India is that there are a lot of cows. Prior to visiting this country I had always pictured India as a predominately Hindu nation with a small minority
J’adore Indian style from the saris and bangles right down to henna painted hands and feet. Even the most casually dressed Indian woman leaves the house wearing perfectly matched earings and a scarf thrown casually around her shoulders. It’s beautiful. As a backpacker with two pairs of pants and a black dress, it’s hard not
It was time to get a move on and since we had to hand over the keys to our rickshaw, we were faced with only one way to get out of town – train. Train travel is generally not horrible, but train travel in India is a whole different level. Just getting to the train
The Dhobi ghat is a massive open air laundry where hundreds of Dhobi (the traditional washermen) live and work. We heard that it was pretty easy to check out, so we got off the train at Mahalaxmi station to see what we could find. We didn’t have to look far! Men with rolled up pant
India is a shocking place, which may be why I LOVE IT. It really is that filthy, it really is that colorful, it really is that poor or that rich. I’ve already accepted that I won’t be clean for another two months. After five minutes in the mugggy Mumbai monsoon, your clothes are damp and
The breakdown was bound to happen, it was just a matter of time. What could not have been expected was the side trip to the slum, the instant fame that we would undeservedly receive or the insane ride through Pune rush hour traffic pushing the ‘Shaw to it’s final resting place. For this we lost
India is a damn crazy place to drive. At first glance it appears that there are absolutely no rules, it’s pure chaos. You quickly come to realize that there are rules and they’re purely based on size and speed. You can pass anyone, anywhere, at anytime as long as they’re moving a tiny bit slower
In India one of the first things you must adjust to is the level of shit: cow shit, garbage on the street, the waft of urine from the slums as you deboard the plane in Mumbai. It seemed appropriate, given the massive amount of shit in India, that we drive the ultimate piece of shit
