The journey to Nepal from India on land is well trodden, I have done it myself twice previously in the opposite direction. It follows the route across northern India to Gorakhpur before taking a bus north to the border town of Sunauli. We rocked up tired and managed to haggle a taxi for 1000 INR (£10) for the 2hr drive.
Sunauli, like most other border towns is a skid-mark on a map, a hotbed of scamsters, scumbags and people that would kick you for your last breath. To cut a very long story short, we turned up without dollars and got absolutely screwed for the $25 each visa fee for Nepal. People were coming from all angles, all vying for a slice of my wallet. It was forty degrees, we were completely underprepared for the onslaught and it was an absolute nightmare. The issue surrounded the fact we couldn’t get dollars in Delhi due to mass floods as we were leaving, getting stuck in traffic for 2 hours, and having a train to catch. Nepal only allows visa payments at land borders to be in dollars and so a mission ensued.
Lumbini is a tiny village in southern Nepal that would be ordinarily be completely insignificant if it was not for in this dusty, hot place that Buddha’s mother decided to give birth to the purveyor of peace. In 563 BC Buddha took his first breath and spawned a religion of peace, tranquillity and understand that today, is practiced by around half a billion people.
Situated around a forest, Lumbini village is like a frontier town. Brutally hot, sandy streets, markets, craft stalls and hotels and restaurants. In many ways it was great to be back in Nepal, it was chill level expert, but the heat was unbearable. At 42 degrees C every day we were there and blue skies, the sun burned hard and sapped not just every ounce of energy that we had, but soaked us wet with sweat. By day two we were drinking 6 litres of water each per day, it was hard.
Due to the significance of Buddhism, countries from around the world have built temples in the forest which Lumbini surrounds. A total of 32 actually. Each one a painstakingly beautiful rendition of that countries culture tied in with Buddhist roots The temples are dotted around the forest and so, we hired bikes and spent an entire day cycling.
Usually, when writing the blog I detail what we did, where went, how we did it and lay our travels bare. But cycling through the forest, avoiding monkeys, relaxing in temples, begging for shade, throwing up due to the heat, getting lost, climbing walls, wading through rivers and spending hours and hours riding our bikes; I realised that the day was special to me. It was a day filled with love, adventure, being a family and enjoying life. I have written previously about Lumbini and the facts are largely the same, but this time, for me, for us all, Lumbini will stay with us.
Leaving Lumbini we booked the usual deluxe, air conditioned, WiFi enabled tourist bus straight outta Compton. As expected, it was a shed on wheels held together by rust, sweat and hope with open windows being the only escape from a torturous sweat box. The 6 hour journey to Pokhara took 10, and the only escape from hearing people throw up out of the window thousands of feet off the cliff edge we meandered, was the spectacular scenery. Rice fields, rivers, valleys and gorges and an incredible amount of green filled the entire journey. I have to say though, as the snow-capped peaks of the Annapurna came into view, I had never been more glad to be getting off a bus. We had not just arrived at the most beautiful place on earth, but where we would be meeting up with Gemma and Charlie. We were more than excited.
If you arrive in Delhi at the start of your trip through India it will be a baptism of fire that will leave you ripped off and wondering what just happened. Hot, sweaty, humid and unforgivingly chaotic, Delhi is a city that is hard to like.
Reading the news today (11th August 2016) I was not at all surprised to read that a man was knocked over in the early hours of yesterday morning, the driver got out, checked and saw the man was bleeding to death. He promptly hopped back in his van and left the scene. A short while later someone spotted the dying man and rather than help him, decided to steal his mobile phone. The man was pronounced dead when he finally arrived at hospital. The deceased man was an auto rickshaw driver during the day, but at night worked as a security guard. It was from his nightshift that he began walking home and was killed.
That story, for me sums up Delhi to absolute perfection. It is a dog eat dog world filled with those that have, and those that don’t. It is every man for himself as mankind takes a backward evolutionary step beyond one of community and cohesion to one of pure survival. Whatever the cost, with no morals or ethics even remotely attached. If you have money Delhi is your masterpiece, think beyond your wildest dreams and it is yours. At a cost. If you have no money, you have a pitiful existence fraught with struggle, desperation and a level of poverty beyond anything you could imagine. Children walk around half dressed, dirt so ground into their tiny bodies that it scars them. Open sores, wounds, missing limbs and eyes, many die from infection and malnourishment. Many victims of intentional abuse to increase their plight and ability to gain money from begging.
When we landed in Delhi airport I jumped in the taxi with the kids and headed for the centre. About a mile from the airport we stopped at lights and with the window down I saw a man approach carrying a young child across his arms. I hate to glance, it really pulls at my emotions and I gave a cursory glance and a “no, sorry”. He was persistent and tapped my arm, I looked back at him. The girl in his arms had half her face missing, she was maybe 2 years old, I caught her eye, my heart jumped. The poor girl looked like her face had been run over, blood soaked a make shift bandage and her head was raw to the point she must have been close to death. Yet she still blinked, looking at me in absolute desperation. I begged the man, her father to take her to hospital. I invited him into our car, asking him to let us take the girl to hospital. He refused, he just wanted money, trying to show me a piece of paper with things written on it I didn’t understand. Our driver drove off. Tears streamed down my face, it was the most heart-breaking thing that I had ever seen. It haunts me still as I beat myself up wishing I had done more, wishing that I could have done more.
With 1.25 billion people, India is the 7th largest economy in the world and is powerhouse lunging towards those before it. Standards have definitely improved in even the 6 years since we first visited India and what has really surprised me is that the drive towards equality of sex is prevalent more than ever. Singing to a woman on a train for example is classed as ‘sexual violence’, and the fines and prison sentences are not light. In the bigger cities women certainly seem far more empowered, but there remains a long way to go as segregated queues and railway carriages are still the norm across the country.
If Delhi is the first stop on your India itinerary you may be forgiven for thinking this represented India, it doesn’t. Most of the people you meet in India are resourceful, hardworking individuals that will always have the time to stop and talk to you, to help, be inquisitive or simply to welcome you to their country. On the many occasions on this trip and those before, if I have looked lost, someone has come along to help. Walking the streets people stop and say hello, they welcome you to their country and take an incredible pride that you have chosen to visit India.
Our journey across northern India is now at an end as we move onto the next chapter; Nepal. We arrived in India knowing we needed a sense of humour, patience and a whole load of tolerance and that has all been tested, numerous times. India has given us some amazing memories that will last for the rest of our lives and so here is a round up of some of my own personal favourites:
I got punched in the head by a monkey, Toby was head butted by a cow, Megan slipped in front of a load of guys and then blamed the footpath. Jack and Abi went zorbing on water, I went white water rafting with Charlie and Megan where we realised a level of cold I had not known off of mountain peaks. Toby had about 100 selfies taken with him and loved running around Delhi zoo looking for animals. We all fell completely in love with the palaces and forts of Rajasthan, and walked miles and miles trying to take everything in. Megan needed oxygen in Leh, I almost blacked out in Khardungla and then cycled from the highest road on earth accompanied by Megan and Charlie and some good music. Gemma fell in love with the mountains of Manali and ended up spending 13 hours in a taxi just to get there. We saw the Taj Mahal, wild elephants, monkeys, camels and the girls did yoga in Rishikesh. We hushed through temples, jungles, deserts and slept on trains 18 hours long and smiled every step of the way.
More than anything, India has brought us together whilst giving us an amazing journey through an amazing country. This summer we went back to our backpacking roots and I am stunned at how easy it has been. Tolerance and patience has surely been tested, but as I wind up our journey through India and head to my wife and son in the Himalayas I do so with a warm smile and gratefulness to everyone that we have met, the friends that we have made and to India for keeping us safe, making us welcome, and showing us a life less ordinary.
Uttarakhand is a state in Northern India and one of the few to border Nepal. It sells itself as a state for adventure, for hiking, for pilgrims, Yoga, for becoming one with nature and an epicentre of Hinduism. Rocking up on the Yoga express from Delhi, an overnight trundle through a slice of the north, I was excited.
We had come to Uttarakhand not for adventure, but for some time to wind down, to immerse ourselves in culture, in the mountains and to spend our days lazing around and enjoying life. The reality was different. I have been to many, if not most States in India and I have never experienced such dishonesty, such blatant scams and such disgusting, dirty, potholed streets anywhere else. Haridwar has to be in for one of the dirtiest cities in the entire sub-continent. Litter strewn streets flowing over into a brown, septic looking Ganges. It is unfathomable to see people bathing in Ma Ganga, almost certain to get some disease or other. Every single person we met in Haridwar tried to rip us off, and not just scam us by a little, it was hardcore scamming. Our hotel for example ‘Le Central’ a decent hotel with 8.5 on booking.com tried to charge us almost 4 times the going rate for a taxi to Rishikesh, and with a smile. Getting around the city was near impossible as drivers would quote extortionate fares and then refuse to take us for less. We had planned two days in Haridwar but left after just one night.
Moving upstate to Rishikesh was no different. Made famous by the Beatles who came to drop acid and meditate, now a hot bed of self-righteous tourists all coming to inflate their egos and drive home the all vegetarian, no alcohol drug fuelled lifestyle we should all live by. The entire city is dry, but markets sell marijuana paraphernalia. In actual fact, if you do want a drink, simply ask a rickshaw driver to take you to the wine shop in Raiwala about half an hour away. They don’t care, anything for a couple hundred rupees.
We stayed in Laxman Jhula which is the second bridge and very picturesque. It is actually quite beautiful. The bridge crossing the Ganges is teeming with monkeys (one of which punched me in the head as I tried to take a selfie with it). Rolling green mountains add to the ambience and if you was stood with ear plugs in, and time was paused, you really would be in a gorgeous place. But, as India goes, add motor bikes, constant horns, jeeps trying to break the land speed records and some of the poorest food hygiene we have found anywhere in india and you have a dirty, noisy, busy, and at times stupidly dangerous place. Ignorance in Rishikesh is at the extreme. Middle aged Europeans who think world travel was invented just for them stroll the streets as though they are Maharajah and younger tourists all grow beards, get tattoos they will regret and hum Hari Krishna whilst drinking a latte. Rishikesh is arrogant in the extreme, almost obscene.
The great thing about Rishikesh is that every guy seems to be called Yogi something or other. With anyone that can touch their toes proclaiming to be yoga experts you are never far away from someone more than happy to bend you over or force a headstand. One thing I really did like and respect Rishikesh for was the fact that many people we asked for things such as Yoga, or gifts or massages would simply say “pay what you like”. I like that. Not because it is an opportunity to get things for nothing, but because it forces good service and as a result ensures relevant payment. One such example was a man my daughters got to know, and like. It would have been criminal to come to Rishikesh, home of yoga and not have them do some yoga. We found a great place, just below the huge temple near the bridge called Yoga Vini. At 35 years old Vini claims to have been practising yoga for over 60 years. I instantly liked him, the girls thought he was brilliant. Tentative, patient and understanding, he gave them a 2 hour introduction to yoga at a pace that they found perfect and in a manner they really connected with. I literally dropped them off for the daily 11am beginner daily session, with 500 rupees total. After the session Yoga Vini took just 200 rupees off them. A real indication of the honesty and generosity of the man. He comes with our complete recommendation.
Other than practising yoga on the roof of our guesthouse, walking the streets getting punched by monkeys (I actually got head-butted by a cow too) our time in Rishikesh was spent relaxing. Or trying to.
I had intended to travel further north to the hill station and cool summer retreat of Musoorie. This placed us near to Dehradun for our return train to Delhi, but gave us an opportunity to experience a little more of India we hadn’t previously. By the time we were due to go, I had just had enough of Uttarkahand and opted to get one night in Dehradun, then bail the next day. Taxi prices to Dehradun ranged from 1250 to 1800 rupees (£12.50 – £18) and so naturally we took the cheaper option, which had us at our hotel within 90 minutes. I had planned a western day, we would check in, drop our bags, head to the cinema and notch up a KFC for lunch. However, our hotel had other ideas.
We had booked in at North Star Residency, Dehradun. After check in we were shown to our family room which was a small double bed that was wall to wall in the tiny box room. Returning to reception I explained that we had booked a family room with two large beds in it. As the scumbag, rat looking owner sneered at me a bull shit story, I quickly realised the scam we had walked straight into. It goes like this, and is a classic. Hotels claim to have a room that will accommodate you, they charge a premium for things like family rooms and when you turn up expecting your room, you are given some story about how through some misunderstanding or another your room isn’t available. But guess what. There is a room available for you, which is completely unsuitable and chargeable at the same rate. The key to this scam however is aggression, and it rolled out in a text book manner. Back at reception there were eight guys all standing around me, the owner was pushy without being aggressive, as he realised I was onto him the aggression started. Not letting me speak, hissing as he told me I was at fault for not responding to messages he knows he never even sent. It is as predictable as it is boring. As we left the hotel I heard the manager bravely shout something to me in a language I didn’t speak. I ignored it and with four kids in tow, in 32-degree heat and near 100% humidity walked the streets trying to find another hotel.
It would be easy to get frustrated by North Star Residency, Dehradun. But It is pretty much what we have experienced from the day we mistakenly set foot in the state of Utterkarhand. It is how things go, it is the way of life. A dirty, stinking hotbed of deceit served up with a smile. A horrible place, filled with dishonest people and the worst place I have ever been in the whole of India and one of the worst places I have ever been anywhere on earth.
As the train pulled out of Dehradun headed back to Delhi, I never thought I would look forward to Delhi as much as I did. And as the last tree of Uttarkarhand passed by the window, I promised myself I would never step foot in that state again.
The farthest north of India is a decorated landscape of amazing geological formations showing millennia of glacial destruction dotted with snow-capped peaks of the Himalayas. On the surface it is a hiker’s paradise, with treks ranging from days to weeks and taking in some of the remotest villages in this part of the world, whilst giving altitude keen mountaineers a flavour of some of the highest mountains on the planet. For those less able, or willing, the state of Ladakh is refuge to Tibetans that have flowed throughout the region bringing with them Buddhism and lives dedicated to peace.
The most popular place in the region, and long time backpacker magnet is the town of Leh. A green slither surrounded by vast mountain ranges, and launch pad into the further reaches of the Nubra valley and beyond. Reachable only by a vomit inducing 20 hour ride over some of Asia’s toughest roads and highest passes, travellers that make the journey are divided into those that loved it, and those that hated it. With the Manali – Leh road open only a few months per year, it has become one of the most revered motorcycle routes on earth and is regularly taken on by thrill seekers straddling bullets and 500cc of power.
When the snow falls and Leh becomes isolated, arrivals must come via air which in itself poses dangers due to the towns 3500m altitude. When balancing how we would turn up in Leh I figured that air was the best option.
I worked out last year that I had flown over five hundred times, all over the world and air travel is now get on, read and get off. A necessary bore and often chore. However, the flight from Jammu had me glued to the window like an air virgin. It was simply spectacular. The Air India flight (AI450) from Jammu took just forty minutes to land in one of the worlds most dangerous airports, but it was exhilarating as the aircraft skirted peaks of the Himalayas and flew through valleys.
I was in Leh with my son Charlie and step daughter Megan. Both 14 years old, both keen for adventure. Leh airport is in an army base which has to be one of the smallest airports in the world. A 15 minute taxi ride to Leh central was about 150 rupees and we all, instantly fell in love. It is backpacker heaven, sandy streets, gorgeous blue skies (320 days of sun per year) it was a cool 26 degrees (as oppose to the forty degrees we had left behind) and we knew it was in the Himalayan shadow meaning it wouldn’t rain a drop. Situated above Leh is a huge palace which looks every bit as Tibetan as the colourful prayer flags hanging from everywhere possible. Pastel painted guesthouses, cheap café’s cum restaurants and tour operators fill every building. It was every bit as mesmerising as I had hoped and I saw passion and excitement in the kids. We knew we had some great days ahead.
The town itself is walkable, but as we walked to our hotel Megan and I were breathless. Not in an asthmatic way, but in a way that feels like you just cannot get enough oxygen. The more you breath, you more dizzy you become. Our first day had to be spent doing nothing, just drinking fluids, relaxing and acclimatising. Naturally we became restless so went out and tried to book something to do the following day. In many ways I wished we had longer, pretty much every tour office has notes stuck to their windows with hikers looking for people to taxi share or share tours. Anyway, long story short we manged to book a full day rafting the following day for 1500 rupees each (£15).
Waking up the following morning I felt like I had a killer hangover. Headache, malaise, nausea, it was awful but quickly relived. And, at 8am we climbed on the mini bus to be taken some 60km away to an aptly named raft launching spot called ‘Chilling’. Naturally, it wasn’t to be that simple and as the bus wound its way through the brown, life baron mountains of Ladakh risking 500m drops on one side, we stopped as a crowd formed on the road. Turns out there was a road block and it was being cleared. Indian’s, being Indian don’t do things by conventional methods. In Nepal I have seen Nepali’s use shovels and brute strength to clear landslides, nope. Not in India. As we watched what was going on people started running towards the vehicles and jumped underneath or behind them. An explosion was imminent. A huge boom rang out through the valley followed seconds later by another huge explosion that (obvious to me) caused further landslides as a huge cliff face collapsed onto the road raining down bricks everywhere. About 30 minutes later a JCB turned up and aided by man power, took around an hour to clear the road enough for vehicles to pass.
8 people to a raft, and a quick safety briefing; literally “it is impossible to swim in the river, don’t try, just lay on your back and wait to be rescued” and we were off.
Having never rafted before it was a dream come true. The river cuts its way through gorges, valleys and over huge rapids that throw the boat as though it was a rollercoaster. A lot of rowing, screams of “get down!” and absolutely freezing water that cut through the wetsuits and it took about 2 and a half hours to get to our destination of Nimmu. Thankfully the raft didn’t flip and we all stayed safe inside. It was an amazing day and both Charlie and Megan ranked it as one of the best things they had ever done. To me it was a great introduction to the region delivered through thrills, attempts to stay warm and topped off with a locally cooked curry at a campsite by the river exit point.
The evenings all rolled into one in that we spent them sat on the rooftops of the many restaurants around the main bazaar eating local food, attempts at Western fare and all to the relaxed beats of Reggae which pumps out as people smoke marijuana, drink beers and relax under the incredible starry night skies.
The following day was spent hiking out of Leh and seeing how high we could hike before compounded by altitude. Truth be told, we died about fifteen times just walking up to the Tibetan monastery at the summit above Leh. I say ‘we’ I actually mean Megan and I. Charlie had his backpack on as he trained for a hike a week later in Nepal. He effortlessly and with a level of immunity made his way up to the 4200m summit. Megan and I really did struggle, every step was like the hardest ever and we just could not catch our breath. The struggle was worth it. It is actually where the photo at the top of this post was taken, and where we literally sat on the rooftop and relaxed for ages looking out over the mountains and the gorgeous view before us. We had intended to hike up to the Stupa but Megan and I were completely done. Charlie was keen to do more, but instead we walked the streets of the town, shopped at the Tibetan markets and searched for ice cream.
Our final day in Leh was to be spent doing something I had wanted to do my entire life. As a child I loved, like all boys, speed and risk. How I survived childhood unscathed I will never know. We would take skateboards, build go karts, and ride bikes without brakes up the steepest hills we could find and then speed down trying to break the land speed record in our own minds. About 48km north of Leh is the world famous Khardungla, the highest road on earth. At 18,380ft (5602m) it is a dizzying height that rocks even the most acclimatised.
Having two teens with me and knowing the dangers of being at such a height (you can fall into a coma within 3o minutes and be dead within a couple of hours) I was very specific in what I wanted. I hired a driver to take us and three bikes to the summit of Khardungla, he would then become a support vehicle and follow us back down to Leh carrying a first aid kit and tools in the event the bikes needed repairing. 5600m is not the sort of place you want to end up with a flat tyre.
The total cost was 2000 rupees each (£20) which includes permits, but would have been just 1400 each (£14) had we gone as part of a group. I spoke to my wife and we agreed, we needed our own vehicle.
At 9am the following morning we loaded the bikes onto the vehicle, and set off to the highest road on earth. The road winds up precariously and I swear the driver was trying to scare us by driving as close to the edge as possible, death was certain if the road had given way to the hundreds of feet beneath. The road is paved until about 4600m from whence it becomes a potholed, unpaved track that winds ever higher. I remember feeling sick and asking the driver how far we had to go, he said 15km. The kids both felt fine at this point. As we drove ever higher I could feel myself becoming very polarised. By that I mean that I no longer wanted to talk and couldn’t concentrate on more than one thing at once. When we arrived at Khardungla Megan told me she felt really ill and was going to throw up. She went off to find somewhere to go to the toilet and I began taking photographs. Charlie was with me and I felt like I was going to pass out. I saw a sign stating that you had to leave by 15 minutes to prevent serious complications and began looking for our driver. I tried asking Charlie where our car was but I couldn’t physically speak or think coherently. He grabbed my arm and walked me over to where our bikes were waiting. I threw up. Megan was looking green and hallucinating saying everything she saw was pink, she looked ill. We needed to get down. Charlie was laughing at us. He seemed completely immune.
Riding back down the 30 miles to Leh is something I really don’t know how to put into words. Try to imagine, there we were, just the three of us at the highest road on earth, higher than 99.99% of everyone else on the planet with a bike and a track that could flick us off to our deaths if we made a single wrong move. Adrenaline kicked in, I put in my headphones and away we went. I think, I could probably write endless superlatives and attempts at capturing the moment, but it was personal for us. It was without doubt one of the most amazing days our lives and one we will all remember for the rest of our lives.
Boarding the flight to Delhi the next morning we all agreed that Leh had changed us. Megan is coming back when she is older to spend months in the region, Charlie has picked out a few peaks he wants to bag. For me, Leh was everything I had hoped for and more. Beyond the rafting, the hiking, the cycling and everything else, what made Leh for me was seeing these two kids, two individuals I have watched grow up become amazing, mature, funny, exciting, enthusiastic young adults.
Leh was not just our favourite place in India, but one of our favourite places anywhere on earth and as we left Delhi airport after a short Jet Airways flight it was a matter of minutes before I wished we were back there.
Home to the golden temple, we were in Amritsar for a number of reasons. First of all, we were heading north so it kind of fell into our route, but mainly because the golden temple is just gorgeous and well worth a visit.
We rolled up into Amritsar off a torturous 16 hour overnighter from Agra and were welcomed by monsoon rains in full force. Since it was early we nipped into a restaurant and grabbed some breakfast before trying to negotiate the 1.8km walk to our hotel. Since Amritsar is a complete dump the roads were flooded and so we needed to jump in a rickshaw. Seeing we had kids, and bags and looked exhausted we naturally got ripped off on the fare, and it must have been by a fair bit as the driver laughed to himself pretty much the whole way.
The hotel we had booked “Backpackers Nest” took the booking for 6 adults and 2 children. When being shown the room we were stunned (but not surprised) to see a windowless concrete square room with a metal shutter separating the next room. There was just one double bed and a rollaway mattress. The owner was explaining how it was sufficient and we declined, thanking him for screwing us over. We sat, in the rain, exhausted with all our bags, the kids, no connection, with nowhere to go. Somehow, in a moment of awesomeness I had downloaded Amritsar from google maps the day previously, and a quick search pulled up a decent hotel not too far away. We headed off, checked in, relaxed and then headed to the Golden Temple.
The area surrounding the Golden Temple is absolute chaos, even the road isn’t a road, but a construction site. I don’t know how many people visit the Golden Temple each day but it must be in the tens of thousands judging by the number of people. You need to cover your hair prior to entrance and bandannas are sold by everyone for 10 rupees each. Ask for a souvenir one which says ‘Golden Temple’ on and is bright orange. The price will double momentarily before sharply dropping to its original value as you being to walk away.
You must have bare feet to enter the complex and shoe storage is free and incredibly efficient. Wash your feet prior to entry and then watch as people come and drink the water in which you just washed your feet. If outside the complex you are hot, then inside you will be sweltering. The marble reflects the heat in a blinding manner. The floors are wet as people bathe in the pool and it was marginally funny to see the odd person do a comical fall, including Jack, twice. Rugs are provided by are made from a material as abrasive as sandpaper with random needle like pieces of wood serving the purpose of stabbing your feet.
The Golden Temple is a show of the openness of Sikhism not just in the fact anyone is allowed to enter, but that you can eat and sleep there completely free, regardless of individual beliefs. This happens due to donations of both time and money and it made sense that we helped out where we could. In each corner of the complex there are people serving drinks and food in little silver bowls. I spotted a guy who looked like he was managing things, shimmied Charlie and Megan to him and they were quickly employed as pot washers, joining a number of women volunteers all happy to sit and gossip with them as they helped provide a crucial service. When we returned to collect them later my heart was melted by the woman in the photograph below. As I photographed Megan, she gestured me to photograph her. At first I didn’t understand, but it became clear she had never seen herself. I took the photo and showed her on the preview screen, her eyes welled up as she graciously thanked me multiple times, repeatedly grabbing my camera and looking at herself and showing the other women. I have seen children do this, but never an adult. It really did touch me.
There really isn’t much else to do in Amritsar, but the Golden Tempe takes a good few hours. We strolled onto Jallianwala Bagh, site of mass murder some years back by British troops, and have written about this previously. Wagah border is worth a visit but again, we had previously been.
It was to be our last night together as a family for a week as Gemma headed to Manali with Abi, Jack and Toby whilst I headed to Leh, via Jammu with Charlie and Megan. Obviously, we bought alcohol, played cards, and relaxed. The following morning, I waved Gem and the kids off on a 10 hour (turned out to be 13 hour) taxi ride to Manali (9000 rupees, about £90 for the 250-mile journey).
Some time later, feeling a little lost, we headed to the bus station and paid 115 rupees each to Pathankot, a transport hub on the fringes of Himachal Pradesh and Jammu and Kashmir.
For decades Jammu and Kashmir has been dangerous, most Western countries advise against travel to the region as bombs are thrown around and killings all too common. Tourists are not the focus and are not targeted. However, when someone detonates a bomb there is always a risk you may be get caught up in it. Recently (last week or so, July 2016) it has kicked off big time as India has upped the anti, killing a prominent opposition fighter. Riots, killings, and bombings currently mar the region to the point I reconsidered travelling to Jammu. Endless amounts of research, and the fact that the British government says travel within the city of Jammu is fine, meant we would continue the journey. Once in Pathankot I noticed armed military everywhere, the odd tank rolled by and tensions seemed high. We jumped in a taxi bound for Jammu (2400 rupees, 3 hours). En route I figured we would just go straight to the hotel we had booked at the train station and lay low. The taxi driver wasn’t able to get to the hotel so we were ditched at the perimeter of the railway station, and there were hundred’s of people. Walking through the crowds trying to be incognito people wanted to shake our hands, “thank you for coming to Jammu, you are most welcome”, there was no hostility, we were being welcomed with opened arms. The armed police even called us over to shake our hands, take selfies and thank us for coming to Jammu. At the hotel I spoke to the manager who spoke excellent English, he explained that Jammu is a city built on tourism but due to the conflict further up the valley foreigners were few and far between. Livelihood’s ruined, hotels closed down, restaurants empty. There was a natural resentment to the perpetrators of the conflict and a desperate drive to let the tourists that do come to Jammu, that they are not just welcome, but they are safe.
As a result we walked the city and it really is quite beautiful, I saw not a single slice of hostility, just smiles, handshakes and the warmest welcome we could ever have asked for.
As we headed to the airport the next morning I felt a little sad we hadn’t stayed longer. Once at Jammu airport, I realised the harsh reality of the situation. The airport is in an air force base, surrounded by military, the walls fringed with barbed wire. It took a series of eight levels of security just to get to our gate. Once there, you literally have to go to the runway and identify your previously checked luggage before it is loaded onto the heavily armed aircraft. Due to the security situation only a few flights are allowed to leave Jammu each day, all in the morning.
I didn’t know it at the time, but as the half empty, Air India flight 450 rattled down the runway an hour behind schedule, we were about to be gifted with the most spectacular 40-minute journey of our lives. And I had even less of an idea, that as we descended sharply into the far northern town of Leh nestled deep in the Indian Himalayas, we were in for some of the most unforgettable days we had ever had.
Jaipur has long been a stalwart on most tourists itineraries that head to India. Just a stones throw, well a long stones throw, 4 hours by rail in fact, from Agra it is the natural choice for those looking for a slice of India in just a couple of weeks.
The capital of Rajasthan, Jaipur is a seamless combination of uber modern shopping malls, world class hotels and centuries old forts, palaces and a pink city that is actually orange. Having been previously I knew where we wanted to go, where we didn’t want to and so came up with a walking tour for those that want an amazing day, on foot, taking in most of the cities history. Bear in mind I walked this with my wife and kids, it isn’t difficult, but you should ensure you have decent footwear and plenty of water. For the most part you need cash, so stock up prior to setting out.
Distance: 16km
Time: Full Day
Difficulty: My 9-year-old walked this with ease
Start: Bottom of Nahargarh rd
Finish: City Palace
The walk begins at the bottom of a number of killer switch backs that wind their way painfully up to Nahargarh fort that sits atop a hill offering gorgeous views out over the Pink City. There is a restaurant and a great place to pick up breakfast. If you are new to India I suggest ‘parantha’ (spellings vary) but it is basically potato stuffed chapatti. Cheap, tasty and easy on the stomach. After spending time exploring the fort come back out and walk along the road sign posted for ‘Jaigarh Fort’. If you are unsure, there will be plenty of guys lingering around who will gladly point you in the right direction. You may get told it is 9km or even longer, it isn’t. It is 5km to the junction then a further 500m to the fort.
I strongly suggest you buy water from Nahargah as the only place along the route selling water is 4km and without it, in the heat you will struggle. If you feel like a snack, women sell grilled corn for 10 rupees per cob.
Walking along the road you will notice that save for the odd car driving past, you are pretty much alone. The trees open up every few hundred metres offering up great views over the city and eventually over the absolutely gorgeous water palace. The route itself is pretty flat with the occasional up or downhill, but very easy to walk as the road is well paved. After around a kilometre you will see a structure protruding above the trees. This is Mandir Sati Mata and entrance is free.
Continuing on, and another km down the road you arrive at Charan Mandir, a temple like comples completely empty save for a caretaker relaxing in the grounds and soaking up the sun’s rays. Entrance is free.
Eventually you will come to a small makeshift store manned by a guy selling water at 20 rupees per bottle and soft drinks for 30 rupees. A welcome sugar/re-hydration stop, and the last before Jaingarh Fort. As you continue, look in the trees, we saw loads of monkeys relaxing. Though they look chilled they are masters of deception and will rob anything you have loose.
You really can’t miss Jaingarh Fort, home to the largest cannon on earth (according to themselves) it is a huge Fort with pretty much nothing inside except for wonderful views, a suspect cannon and a great stop for lunch. Entrance is just 85 rupees per adult and 45 rupees for children.
Looking down the hill from Jaingarh Fort you will notice a sand looking coloured, palace type mega building. It is in-fact the world famous, and perhaps most beautiful fort in the whole of India; Amber Fort. The reason tourists have been making their way to Jaipur and a place that spawned mass tourism to the region.
There is a downhill road from Jaingarh that will take you right to the entrance courtyard of the Amber Fort. The cobbled road travels from one fort to another and is frequented by elephants accompanied by monkeys, cows and the odd lost looking goat.
Entrance to Amber fort is a steep 500 rupees per adult and 450 rupees per child. You really could spend half a day exploring the many courtyards, alleys and rooms in the Amber fort. And you may choose to end your walk here. If that is the case, jump in a tuk tuk, ask for a photo stop at the water palace and then onwards to city palace. It should costs about 100 rupees, but you will be lucky to get it for sub 250 rupees.
If you choose to walk, keep the Amber fort to your right hand side and head along the road as it winds up the hill and onto the water palace. This obligatory photo stop is simply beautiful and a real piece of India. Kids will show you magic tricks, you can buy good local food, crafts and all at rock bottom (hard bargained) prices. If your legs need a rest you can hop on a camel, or choose to jump in a tuk tuk. If you continue walking you are around half an hour from the city palace.
Keep walking in the same direction and when you see the streets to get busy, as though you are coming to a bazaar, and you can see huge city walls ask someone to point you in the direction of ‘City Palace’. Everyone knows where it is, and eventually you will get to it. Once there you are at the heart of the Pink City, close to Jantar Mantar, Hawa Mahal and Iswari Minar Swarga. Here you can take in the best of the Pink City and stroll the chaotic streets.
It will likely be early evening and if you have walked the entire route a good meal will be in order. My recommendation is Peacock Restaurant at the Pearl Palace hotel. Reservations are sometimes needed so maybe book ahead, or turn up and hope. But they sell the most amazing chicken tikka I have ever had, and, since we usually go vegetarian in India it is one of just a handful of places I trust the meat.
That was our time in Jaipur, a whistle stop day hike of the best of what Jaipur had to offer.
The following morning we boarded the 7.05am Shatabdi Express bound for Agra, and home to the most beautiful and recognisable building on earth; The Taj Mahal.
We began our Indian journey in the sleepy, self-proclaimed ‘most beautiful city in India’ and penned more recently ‘cleanest city in India’. Couples make the pilgrimage to Udaipur in droves to seal the deal beside one of the cities many lakes, mirroring one of the lakes’ many palaces.
A quick 50 minute hop from Mumbai, Udaipur is not quite on the tourist trail and often little more than a flash as the train speeds by, or a dot on the ground as flights head north bound to the golden triangle and beyond. That said, a small number do make the effort and are rewarded by some of the cheapest accommodation in Rajasthan and some of the most beautiful lake side views in the north of India.
Truth be told, Udaipur was an after-thought for us. We had planned on spending a few days in Mumbai and the taking the sleeper train to Jaipur. Gemma and I have both been to Mumbai previously and though I liked the city, Gemma did not. That, combined with some of the most expensive accommodation costs in the country and the fact Mumbai gets lashed pretty much constantly by rain from June to September pushed us North. A couple of weeks before leaving we stared at a map of India and looked at the space between Mumbai and Jaipur, we had onward connections so just needed to fill the days that Mumbai would have occupied. We used google and imaged a number of places and then sat down and discussed what we had both found. We both suggested Udaipur instantly, it seemed a world apart from anywhere else. Flights from Mumbai to Udaipur with Jet Airways were about £25 each and within no time we had struck Mumbai from the itinerary and were looking forward to Udaipur.
Having recently been to New York with Toby (my 4-year-old) I saw just how much skipping time zones knocked him out. The first day or two and he was wiped out. With that in mind we decided that Udaipur would be chill level 10. We used Airbnb to book ourselves a house for 3 nights and found a lovely place in a semi-rural location, away from the hectic, noisy streets of Udaipur central and somewhere we could relax as a family to ensure we slipped into India effortlessly.
The flight to Udaipur was about 30 minutes late, and walking out of arrivals, having all just travelled thousands of miles we were exhausted. It was a welcome sight to see the owner of the house we had rented stood waiting for us, waving and smiling as he walked over. The homeowner was a Mr Sultan Singh Deol, a lovely man whose warmth extended throughout our stay at his home Raaga Homestay.
Being back in India was somewhat surreal, being back with all my family even more so. In many ways it felt normal, the huge culture shock one normally gets was gone, the heat, the humidity, the cows randomly stopping traffic as they relax in the centre of the road, all normal. For a minute I felt this was going to be an effortless transition from Western Europe to the Indian Subcontinent. Then, as is heartbreakingly all too common, stood a young boy just a few years into what promises to be a torturous life of poverty. His face covered in thick dirt, his mother nowhere to be seen. At just perhaps 3 years old he walked up and down traffic trying to sell a balloon for what would be the equivalent of just 5 pence. It was a quick snap back to reality. We were in India.
Our time in Udaipur was spent relaxing, enjoying being together and exploring the wonderful city. We came up with what we think is a fantastic walking tour of the city, taking in many of the best parts and encompassing some gorgeous views. Rickshaws (tuk-tuks) are plentiful and cheap with most journeys in and out of the city being around 100 – 150 rupees (£1 – £2) we didn’t take any within the city as we found walking was fine. Below is our invented, tried and tested walking tour of Udaipur.
Udaipur City Walking tour:
Start: Sahelion Ki Bari
Finish: Udaipur Zoo
Time: Full day
Take a taxi/tuk-tuk to Sahelion Ki Bari, a park at the North East side of Fateh Sagar Lake. The park itself is small and filled with lotus pools, fountains, lush greenery and zillions of dragon flies. The park itself opens at 9am, so grab breakfast before heading here. A mooch around the park takes no more than half an hour, before you head out of the gate and around the corner towards Moti Magri which is a nice look out over Fateh Sagar Lake, a desperate museum and cool looking statue. There are also some ruins, but aside from anything else, it’s a nice place to relax and people watch. Just past the guy on the horse is a drinks stand.
Back down the hill, onto Maharana Pratap Memorial Rd you walk along the banks of the lake and round towards Vivakanand park, passing a couple of temples along the way. Just before the park take a right down and across Swaroop Sagar (a scruffy looking lake).
Pretty soon you will be at Grasswood café, which comes highly recommended by me for lunch. Prices are a little on the steep side for India, but the sandwiches are delicious and a great way to break up the day.
After lunch continue on to Gangaur Ghat, Bagore Ki Haveli museum and on further are more temples before eventually you reach a huge temple called Jagdish Temple. Head up the stairs and look around, it’s a great place to listen to locals singing, chanting and worshipping.
Come back down the stairs and head down the hill about 20m before taking a left into what looks like a car park. Go up the stairs and head towards to the City Palace as you feel like James Bond straight out of Octopussy. Minus the suite, woman, money, style, drink and panache.
Situated on the banks of Lake Pichola and taking over 400 years to construct, the palace is a stunning portal into a historical masterpiece that could take hours and hours to fully appreciate. From the palace, you can walk down to Pichola lake for the obligatory boat ride soaking up the self-proclaimed Venice of the East… Despite the fact Udaipur looks absolutely nothing like Venice.
The surroundings of the City Palace extend far and wide and though tired and heat battered add a real sense of immersion into life in 15th century India.
Popping out of the bottom of City Palace (South end near Shiv Temple) you can now head across the road towards the zoo. It was at this point the rain came down for us, we bailed into a pool hall and played pool hoping it would pass but it didn’t. We had to cut our time short and head home after an exhilarating, yet interesting day in the most beautiful city in India.
On our final day in Udaipur we decided the treat the kids to a waterpark. It turns out there are two in the city, we chose Marvel Waterpark simply because it claimed to be the biggest in Rajasthan, which in all fairness doesn’t really mean anything since in India, it seems normal to just award yourself some status or another. Entrance was 350 rupees for everyone over 4ft, which is roughly £4 each. The park is easily reached and I think, open year round. As you enter, Indian music pumps in the distance, bass on full, speakers distorting. Quick note, every female in the park was in t shirt and shorts, most guys were too. The occasional lone crusader stood topless, but that was certainly not the norm.
The park itself is, as expected incredibly tacky and epitomises everything I absolutely love about India. Teens stood in the pools dancing Bollywood style, the slides catapulted the kids at break neck speeds into splash pools just a foot deep and at 1pm the pools/slides shut for 30 minutes for lunch. Imagine a pastel painted place, blessed with searing heat, most of the signs misspelt in English and aching for refurbishment. It was brilliant and the kids absolutely loved the full day we spent there. Naturally, Charlie smashed his knee open, but it was a great day nonetheless.
We left Udaipur on the 10.20pm sleeper to Jaipur, having already been to Jaipur I knew we were in for a treat and laying there, trying to get sleep it felt great to be back in my favourite country on earth, with my family, and with an entire summer ahead of us.
Usually when we plan summer, it is done so about 8 weeks in advance. The reason is more-often than not an indecision of where to go and what to do. So, when Christmas 2015 rolled around my wife and spoke about what the year ahead would hold for us. Inevitably summer 2016 came up and we discussed heading back to the United States, possibly camping, hiking, but mainly holidaying. We remained undecided. A day or two later I was browsing twitter and secretflying (an account dedicated to finding error fares and unusually cheap flights) showed up return flights from Prague to Dubai, with Aeroflot for about £90 each. I checked flight prices to Prague (about £20 each return) and realised that we could be in Dubai, for the whole summer for about £110. Nothing is ever that simple, and there was just three seats available, we booked them for Gemma and our two eldest children, we would worry about the remainder of us later.
A week or so went by and secretflying came up with flights from Madrid to Mumbai, India for an incredible price with Iberia and British Airways. And that was that, we would all spend a summer in India and the planning began.
Now, I love India, it is easily one of my favourite countries, but it is very hard to travel. The heat, constant sweat, food issues, sanitation, and impossible bureaucracy make India an exhausting place. Nothing makes sense and procedures are a myriad of illogical confusion combined with a country where time is irrelevant. A perfect example; Flying out of Delhi a couple of years back I was ushered into a queue just prior to security. Indians hate to queue, and so it was organised chaos. Added to the fact women and men must queue separately I was trying to keep an eye on my young daughter who wasn’t allowed in my queue. Twenty minutes’ pass, and at the front of the queue a guy looks at my hand luggage and gives me a tag. I am then sent to another queue. Turns out, that first queue is to ensure you are allowed to actually queue for security… Baffling, pointless and completely illogical.
My wife had travelled India previously and we both agreed, 6 weeks in India was too much. After a lot of discussion, we decided that we would head to India for a few weeks, go hiking in Nepal and then have a week in Dubai. Simple.
Not so. Anyone that travels with kids will know and agree that making the decision of where to go is a single percent of the overall effort of a summer away. Weeks of planning turned into months, every element meticulously pored over, our youngest is just 4 years old, we had to get this right and having spent the last three years in the United States, felt like we had forgotten how to backpack. Piece by piece things came together, and, after the longest time spent planning any summer trip, it was finalised.
Summer 2016
The summer looks like this:
Gemma, Charlie and Megan fly to Mumbai via Prague, Moscow and Abu Dhabi. I fly to Mumbai with Abi, Jack and Toby via Madrid and London. We all meet in Mumbai (we land within 2 hours of each other). We then all fly up to Udaipur together where we have a house reserved for a few days to catch up with ourselves and time changes. We then travel north taking in some of our favourite places such as Jaipur, Agra and Amritsar. The trip then splits, Gemma takes the youngest three to a wonderful Alpine like paradise called Manali (and one of my favourite places in the country), whilst I fly to the far northern city of Leh at the foothills of the Indian Himalaya with the two eldest. Gemma will spend time in Manali paragliding, cycling and hiking, whilst we will hike high passes, cycle the highest road on earth, bungee jump and white water-raft (amongst other things). We will then all meet up back in Delhi for some respite before Gemma flies with Charlie to Kathmandu, on to Lukla and then begins the three passes hike, a spectacular high altitude trek through the Everest Region taking in Everest Base Camp and three of the highest passes on earth. Meanwhile, with the remainder of the kids I will travel up to Rishikesh, Haridwar and then make our way across northern India to the land border crossing with Nepal at Sunauli. We will then wind our way up towards the gorgeous lakeside retreat of Pokhara, before setting out on either the Annapurna Sanctuary trek, or Poon Hill. I say either, not because we are undecided, but the Annapurna region (like much of Nepal) is still recovering from the massive earthquake that hit the tiny land locked country in April 2015. Once in Pokhara I will know better, whether Annapurna is safe for hiking with kids.
Gemma and Charlie will make their way to Pokhara after finishing the Three Passes trek and we will head there from Annapurna. After a few days relaxation we then fly to Dubai where we have a car hired and a gorgeous apartment for a week of travelling the Emirates and having some hard-core beach time.
A lot of people might wonder what the point of going away as a family, but spending parts of it divided. We wanted this year to tailor the trip to all the kids, whilst the younger ones want to play in rivers and paraglide, the older ones want to sky dive and go rafting. Whilst Gemma and Charlie want to hike the Three Passes, the others would rather a less intense hike. Will it work? I am confident, there has been so much planning gone into this, but we have also left a lot of room for manoeuvre allowing the trip to remain dynamic.
This opening post is an insight into what should be an amazing summer. 19 flights, 8 long distance trains, 6 countries, 200 miles of Himalayan trekking, 5 kids, my wife and I, and a whole lot of hope.
Here’s to returning to backpacking, to travel and to each other.
New Delhi – The capital city of India, the gateway to the North and home to some 16 million people. Delhi is a faceless megalopolis roasted much of the year in arid desert temperatures and then drenched every summer with the Northern Monsoon coming down from the Himalayas.
The minimum wage in Delhi is one of the highest in India with non skilled workers bringing in around £2.50 per day basic, and skilled workers living it up on a minimum of £3.20 per day. This basic wage draws people from all over the sub continent and in doing so Delhi offers up one of the most diverse cities, cuisines and cities in the whole of India. On the face of it it is a near organised city offering up modern facilities and amenities and in many ways is the perfect entry/exit point into mainland India.
However, let’s not forget Delhi is still in India, and so of course nothing is that simple. We first stepped foot in Delhi back in 2010, straight off a Kingfisher flight from London we red eyed it and arrived tired and unprepared for the onslaught of Delhi.
some 3 years later, and having travelled the country extensively I have matured as a traveller, we all have. And the single biggest thing you learn from India is tolerance. For me tolerance extends beyond patience, tolerance is when you have had enough, when everything within you is telling you a blood vessel is about to burst – When you resemble stressed Eric on a bad day, but you persist. It is that persistence, combined with understanding that allows you to tolerate. And when you tolerate, you appreciate. And by appreciating Delhi for what it is, what it offers, the diversity and everything thrown in, you can smile. You might be amongst the most dishonest people in the whole of India, the heat might be unbearable, auto drivers might be absolute conning bastards and you might well be sick to the back teeth of the stench of piss. But, in the right frame of mind, the frame of mind garnered through tolerance, you might just be in one of India’s greatest and most modern cities.
Himachel Pradesh it is not, but even Charlie commented how things seem so much more green this time around and I agree. The result of the Commonwealth games in 2010 (after we had been) trees were planted, roads were cleaned, traffic lights enforced and the city was chilled out. The fact is natural beauty relaxes people, it’s the reason the fruit and veg is always at the entrance to the supermarket, whatever it might be. You walk in, pissed off, see the colours, natural fruit and vegetables and chill out. A happy shopper spends more money and a happy citizen adds to the greater ambience of the city. It is therefore no secret that the desert like landscape of Delhi, where everything seems to be some shade of sand, introducing ‘green’ en masse was going to be a hit. And it is, aesthetically Delhi is a nice city, not beautiful. Not anywhere near, but nice.
Architecturally beautiful buildings are cropping up like their going out of fashion. New Delhi, in 2012 is at the forefront of modern India, it’s the first place most people see and as part of the economic behemoth rivalled only by China, Delhi is spearheading the global world economic domination hoping one day Delhi will be on the pedestal of economic giants, of global cities that draw major investments, of chic, trendy, happening international cities attracting prestige. Delhi has been reborn, reinvented and it is the place to be, the authorities have tried damned hard to make it work. The question I asked myself and the kids en route from Chandigarh in first class on the Shatabdi Express was “Can we learn to love Delhi” My worst city on the face of the earth, somewhere we all despised. Could we ever even like it?
Mahatma Gandhi is commonly referred to as the ‘father of the nation’ the driving force behind not just the independence of India, but of the peace that exists today between the various faiths. Though there are still pockets of violence, for example in Assam and occasionally in Kashmir, it used to be much worse.
Gandhi was a man of peace, he had a staunch attitude toward peaceful resolutions without the need for violence and right up until he was assassinated he promoted peace and a free India whereby every person was classed not by their faith, sex or their caste, but by the fact they were Indian. In essence he was the architect of the India we see today. He travelled the country and indeed world promoting peace and independent India, and when ultimately it was about to happen he was called to Delhi. He lived in the city, in a modest building set in beautiful grounds. Each evening he would lead a prayer to followers in the garden. On the 30th January 1948 Gandhi left his building and walked toward where the prayers would commence, however he was assassinated by a gunman.
One of the most important figures in the history of India and the world during the 20th century, the home of Mahatma Gandhi is now a museum and the grounds preserved detailing his final walk and the events that followed and that made the man he was. Entrance is free and it is by far the most well looked after museum we have ever visited in India. Beautifully kept, sombre and fantastically informative, we enjoyed getting a glimpse into the history of this amazing country and the man who was India to the core.
We spent a lot of time in Delhi walking around and enjoying the freedom of the city, visiting the momentous and hugely symbolic India Gate which serves as a memorial for all Indians who lost their lives in the Great War. We looked at Jantar Mantar and got lost in the pandemonium of Connaught Palace and though the city is in parts lovely, and at times awe inspiring it still is home to the most dishonest people we have ever come across in the whole country. Being quoted fares that were some 50 times what they should be was common and I dont think once, not a single time did we ever pay the normal price. Everywhere in India overcharging is common, but not all of the time, on everything, by so much. Despite the products having the price printed on them we were without exception always tried to be charged more. Every single time a person spoke to us it would lead onto a scam. The 20% tax charged by many restaurants on top of the 10% service charge got boring before it had even happened. The lies, cheating, dishonesty and insults of the blatant cons were ridiculous. We were told the metro had closed (despite knowing full well it hadn’t) had the old “I meant 50 rupees per person” tried on and yet again felt like every single person we came into contact with in Delhi was dishonest and rotten to the core. But then when even the government is scamming tourists it is no surprise that every one else is in on it. Jantar Mantar for example costs 5 rupees for Indians, yet 100 rupees for foreigners and I know this happens all over India. But when all Jantar Mantar is is just a bunch of brick walls in funky shapes I mean come on. Is there no let up?
The bus system in Delhi is the most confusing in the world and their is no information anywhere, the metro is amazing, but severely over capacity, so much so it is dangerous. Every spare corner of the city stinks of piss and I saw a man cooking up heroin whilst people just walked by.
in 2010 I said I despised Delhi and would never return, we did return and though we do’t despise the place anymore I have to still question whether it is actually worth visiting when you compare it to the hassle. Im not convinced it is, my advice regarding Delhi remains unchanged and that is if you must fly into or out of Delhi dedicate just one day to the city. There is so much more to see in India, and frankly Delhi just does not compare. And it’s a real shame, the effort that has gone into the city is very apparent, it really does live up to the ‘New’ in New Delhi, but people make a city. And the people, for us ruin Delhi. That said, it’s still a very significant and forward looking city.
In the last three years we have travelled to just about every single Indian state. Have trekked to remote mountainous villages, battled altitude and sat in awe at the most amazing natural beauty we have ever seen. We’ve been to the back waters of the South and looked out from the southern most tip where nothing stood between us and the Antarctic. We’ve been to villages deep within India, places so forgotten we made the news. We’ve been to the technological capital of Hyderabad, witnessed the Tsunami’s destruction in Chennai. Visited 19 of the 20 Lonely Planet most must see sights in the sub continent. Relaxed in Mumbai, sizzled all across the North, seen open cremations in Varanasi, been amazed by temples and buildings so beautiful they leave you with goose pimples. From paragliding off 4000m mountains, rowing boats, motorbikes, scooters and cricket. We’ve seen temperatures of fifty degrees, felt the chill of snow on some of the worlds highest mountains. Rode Elephants through the jungle in search of Tigers, rode camels into the desert in search of peace. Scaled breathtaking, horizon stealing forts, travelled for at least a hundred hours or more with locals across the whole of the country. Experienced Tibetan culture, Hindu, Sikkhism, Muslim and Christianity. We’ve seen people beg for life, poverty at it’s most extreme and people who have been days from the end through hunger. The sadness has been tormenting at times, yet the Indian people are the friendliest, least hostile and warmest people I have ever come across anywhere on earth. The passion, belief, enthusiasm and pride is unrivalled. We have laughed so much, often at people, often with people. Never with malice, always with a glimmer of “only in India” and that for me sums it up. India is like no where else, it’s unmatched anywhere for diversity, scale, culture and cuisine.
People ask me “Whats your favourite country” and I always tend to give some generic answer of how its the US for adventure, Vietnam for peace etc etc. After 42 countries I now know the answer and it’s no different to Charlie and Abi – India.
I remember weeks back speaking to an American and she told me “there’s just something about India” and it’s a common thing. The attraction to India is addictive, what other country made a 3 minute advert to support their Olympic athletes and then celebrated them as hero’s despite their 55th position in the world medal league. India didn’t look at the fact they came 55th with pessimism and misery, London 2012 was the most successful Olympics ever for the country and they celebrated it with passion, belief and hope. And that is what India represents – Hope, change, belief and defiance in the face of adversity.
India is unique and though last year when leaving we felt the time was right, we now face leaving a country we have really fallen in love with, we leave behind friends we have made, laughs we have shared and a place that feels like home.
“I shall work for an India in which the poorest shall feel that it is their country, in whose making they have an effective voice, an India in which there shall be no high class and low class of people; an India in which all communities shall live in perfect harmony. There can be no room in such an India for the curse of untouchability, or the curse of intoxicating drinks and drugs. Women will enjoy the same rights as men. We shall be at peace with all the rest of the world. This is the India of my dreams” M.K Ghandi.
Chandigarh is a unique city in India, not only is it metropolitan, meaning that it is governed not by the state of Punjab in which is sits, but by the central government. It is one of the wealthiest cities in the subcontinent and home to one of the lowest crime rates in the country. The streets are clean, wide and lined with trees. Traffic is controlled and every couple of hundred metres is a kids park. But it’s no accident that the city is so structured.
Dreaming of a perfect city after independence, the architectural skills of a bloke called Le Corbusier was employed to design, from scratch the perfect, modern city.
He was given complete freedom to exercise his vision and expectations were high. Le Corbusier liked green and straight lines. And as a result Chandigarh is basically a massive square split into smaller squares (like a grid) each square is called a sector and each sector given a number. Within each sector is a park, shops, businesses and homes. It’s basically the ultimate prefabricated city and wouldn’t look out of place in the US.
Due to being massive the streets are quite chilled out, and due to the high standard of living there isn’t much bother in terms of being accosted for business. But the city isn’t tourist oriented, few tourists make it to Chandigarh and so hotels are expensive by Indian standards and it’s near impossible to get an auto. Well, unless you wanna pay through the ear for one.
Fixed Auto prices are 12 rupees for the first km and the 6 rupees for every km thereafter. Good luck. We wanted to go 3km and so being tourists expected to be quoted about 30 rupees, which I’d have paid. I almost passed out when I was told 200 rupees. A whopping 20 times more than it should have been. I soon realised it wasn’t a one off and every auto was quoting us ridiculous prices. The thing is, they would rather not have a customer than give you a fair price and so getting an auto in Chandigarh was ruled out. However, flying around you will see oversized autos, usually with other people inside. Hop in and its a flat rate 10 rupees wherever you want to go. The problem is, we noticed few spoke English and so would just bezz off mid conversation because they don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.
However, buses in Chandiagrh are an absolute dream, due to the grid like nature of the city and the flat fee of 5 rupees per journey (10 rupees on air con bus) if you have a map you can quickly navigate the city using interchanging journeys and junctions.
Chandigarh is home to one of the most bizarre tourist attractions in the country. Home to the world famous ‘rock garden’ Nek Chand, an Indian cum Pakistani cum Indian road inspector got a bit pissed off at all the rubbish that littered the newly developed Chandigarh back in the fifties.
He decided it would be a great idea to illegally collect the rubbish and make stuff out of it. When he got busted about 15 years after he had started the government decide to demolish his work. He pleaded with them to have a heart, and after seeing how awesome it looked the decided it was worth keeping and actually ended up paying him to develop his work further. Half a century later is a fascinating vision of one mans dream, determination and hard graft. A mere 20 rupees for adults and 5 for kids it cost about 30 pence total to get in, yet covering some 23 acres it is as good a value for money you will get in the whole of India.
It is completely bizarre and looks to me like Nek dropped some acid, and then went to work. It is a mixture between crazy, unbelievable and “he must have been off his face” so old is much of the stuff it has turned to rock, but its a maze of awesomeness and proof that if you dream you can achieve. Attracting around 100,000 visitors per year it is testament to one mans dream and has made Nek Chand highly regarded within the city and globally.
The temperature was in the high forties with about 90% humidity and so the cool mountain air had gone. We decided to walk much of the city and so made our way to the supposed world famous Chandigarh lake. Excited about taking some boats out to the centre and then getting some sleep whilst the kids did a bit of fishing I was up for it. The walk took around 20 minutes and when we got there it really did not surprise me to see the lake dried up. Seriously, India cannot even do a lake, in the middle of monsoon properly. Pissed off with yet another ‘India claim’ that turned out to be bull shit we headed to a mall in Sector 8 some 3 miles away. Of course the mall was just a shop and so we hit the bus station exhausted with the humidity.
I have intentionally split Chandigarh into two parts, we are coming to the end of our time in India and so in wrapping up this entry I put a few questions to the kids:
Me: What do you like most about India…
Charlie – The craziness of it, no one cares and its funny to be a part of it all. Some Indian people are so funny, and I love how people argue and then just walk away like nothing happened. Its funny too just standing around waiting for a bus and a camel will just walk past smiling thinking it is slick.
Abi – I love the Temples and some of the amazing places we have seen. I think its great that you can just do what you want and go where ever you want to go.
My reply – The diversity, culture, food, climate, scenery and the people. I love the genteel nature of the Indian people, and the fact that despite how the English pillaged the country we are welcomed everywhere with open arms, people cannot do enough for us. India to me feels like home and I love the warmth of the people. Also, the sense of national pride is something to behold. Indian’s don’t love being Indian because they swept the floor at the Olympics, or because they once ruled the world. They love being Indian because it’s who they are.
Me: What do you dislike about India the most…
Charlie – Scams.
Abi – When people get on the horn and no one is in front of them. It doesn’t make sense and when drivers just drive in front of you like you don’t exist.
My reply – The fact that no one in India has any consideration whatsoever for anyone else. i.e People deciding 3am is the perfect time to fix the loudest engine on earth to someone deciding he loves his horn at 4am. In many ways its the amazing thing about India, such self independence and the fact you can literally do want you want in an almost lawless way. But it grates after about a minute in the country.
Me: What is your favourite experience in India this year, other than paragliding:
Charlie – Hiring the motorbike and going up the mountains.
Abi – Same as Charlie.
My Reply – I knew Charlie would paraglide, but for me seeing Abi face her fears and paraglide was an amazing feeling. She was petrified of heights and decided to face it head on. I was immensely proud. But, if it isn’t paragliding then it would have to be walking to Old Manali after no sleep for about 48 hours. The walk of about 5km all up hill, in darkness and rain, playing X Factor was so intimate it gives me goose pimples even now. I am lucky enough to have travelled to more places than most people dream of. But the times spent against adversity with the kids, the hard times where we just get on with it – Those are the times I remember.
Me: What is your worst experience of India this year…
Charlie – The 9 hour power cut in Allahabad without a doubt, waiting in that train station was awful.
Abi – The bus up the mountain to Mcleod Ganj when it was monsoon and the bus was full of people, the windows were shut and it was proper hot.
My reply – The journey across the Northern Plains was three days of hard travelling, and as experienced a traveller as I am it really took every ounce of enthusiasm I could muster. It was India at it’s hardest and was as a direct result of my poor planning.
