Richard's Travel Blog

This is the Tiksey monastery, about 20 km from Leh. Beatrice and I had a day between when we arranged to leave on trek and when we were to go. so we went to this place and the 17th century palace in Shey. I took almost this same picture last September. If you want to see more pictures than I have here, click on the September 2006 link on the opening page. Here are some more pictures taken up in the monastery.

These prayer wheels are everywhere, in town, in monasteries, by the road… everywhere. People turn them clockwise, as they do their handheld prayer wheels, and it’s basically equal to saying the prayer.

This last one is typical of the monks’ quarters.

At the time, we were going to leave about Wednesday, but Beatrice had difficulty buying a pony she liked, so it got put off till Friday. Then she got sick, and we put it off till Sunday. She’s getting better, so we should actually get out of here on Sunday.

 Part of our trek will take us behind the Stok range, which forms much of the southern flank of the Leh valley. In this picture, taken from part way up the walk to the Tiksey monastery, you can see the mountains we’ll climb over the first day out of Lamayuru, though the part we’ll go over is actually about 140 km to the west.

Actually, when we get to about this point, we’ll cross another pass and head into the region between the Stok range and the Zanskar range. I plan to stop on the road between Manali and Leh near Tso Kar. Beatrice will head back into the mountains between the Zanskar range and the Himalaya range, then back east toward the China border, then north wherever she can get away with going depending on the army allows and her horseman is willing to try. Both are considerations because the army controls the lands tight to the China border and it’s usually forbidden to go to some of the areas she wants to go to, there are no maps, and Namgang has never been there. If they can pull that off, it will likely be that they will have to pick up a nomad boy as a guide. Whatever.

So, I plan to be in some place where I can internet in about 3-4 weeks. I suppose there is a chance I will stick with Beatrice. If I do that, I’ll call a few people from Tso Kar, where I am sure there is a phone. I hope all goes well with you on your ends.

It’s hard to say when we’ll begin out horse trek. Beatrice is the nearby village of Choklamsar, checking out a horse to buy from a neighbor of our guide and horseman, Namgang. We looked at him yesterday. He appears healthy and well fed, at least, though for some reason would not allow Beatrice anywhere near it’s mouth. She’s down there now seeing if he’ll allow her to look in there, and to saddle him up and see if he’s rideable. She seems to think he’ll be fine. We’re supposed to meet back here in Leh for lunch, if he hasn’t thrown her and broken something. If he is rideable, we’ll leave the day after tomorrow. There is still food to buy, and a few other supplies.

We will rent the other six horses we need from Namgang. Here are some pics of a few of them.

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The red one on the right will be mine. It doesn’t look red in this picture.

This black one was Beatrice’s last year, when she went out for only a month. She was a good horse then, but something is wrong with it’s teeth now, she’s losing weight and is now only suitable as a pack horse.

I was looking for a good trekking map of Ladakh and Zanskar. Maybe you can find one. I’ll continue looking, if I have time, but here is our planned itinerary. We’ll have the horses and supplies trucked about 120 km west to Lamayuru. You can find some pictures of the monastery there if you click on my earlier blog entry from Ladakh last year. From there we’ll climb the mountains to the south and head southeast across the Zanskar River, then go through the Markha River Valley between the Stok and Zanskar mountain ranges which parallel the Himalaya Range to the southwest. I forget which pass Beatrice plans to cross as we continue, but eventually in 3-4 weeks we hope to arrive at Tso Kar. Tso means “lake”. You should be able to find that on a map. It’s just east of the road to Sarchu and Manali. That’s where I plan to leave them. I haven’t decided whether to try to catch a bus or something to Manali, or to return a hundred and something km to Leh. I think I’ll move on to Manali, from where I can get to Delhi/Kathmandu/Tibet. Actualy, I haven’t decided for sure whether to go to Tibet. I’d like to meet up with Betrice when she’s done, but that would give me only 6 weeks to get to Tibet and back. I don’t like quickie trips. I’ll decide later.

I’ve been having terrible trouble with the connection and speed at this and another internet place today, and it’s already time to head for the restaurant where Beatrice and Namgang are supposed to be in a half hour. So, I’m going to take off for there. I’ll try to post something before I leave. If I can’t, I’l talk to you in about a month. Be well, all of you.

It’s cold in them thar hills, so I’m growing my winter coat to go along with my newly purchased fur hat, gloves and booties.

The boat used for everything from taxi service to delivery to river tours in Srinigar is called a shakara. Here are some photos of the scenery on our shakara ride into the boonies northwest of Srinigar.

Sometimes we had to get out while the shakara men maneuvered through the shallows.

But most of the time we just lounged around like the king and queen of Sheba, soaking up the views.

… said the old lady as she kissed the cow.

Srinigar is about the same as last year. There is still Muslim/Hindu violence, so there are few tourists. That’s a good thing because if the Kashmiris can squeeze you for money, they’ll do it for all it’s worth. If no one is there, you have a chance not to get cheated. This time, the only thing that happened was Beatrice and I took that boat ride down the river from Srinigar that I told you about last year. (See the entry called “Srinigar”. I’ll put some pictures on here from this trip when we get to Leh.) The guys planned to bring us back to Srinigar in the morning of the third day, which didn’t seem like a whole three days and two nights. They wanted to be paid in full and we didn’t want to do that, so we had a heated exchange (normal conversation to a Kashmiri) and compromised. I probably could have held out for where I wanted to compromise, but he had a couple of cards I couldn’t trump, like none of the rickshaw guys would give us a ride to the bus stand until we reached an agreement. Well, anyway, that’s par for the course.

The ride was nice, for sure, and the guys did the work for sure. It’s really very beautiful along there. In fact, Kashmir is beautiful, even the parts that aren’t Ladakh. The vistas of green fields and marshland against a setting of snowcapped 20,000 ft moountains are spectacular. Like I said, pictures will come up when I get to Leh.

Originally, we were only going there for three days so that Beatrice could adjust to the elevation changes as you go to Ladakh, where some of the passes are around 17,000 ft. I had been talking about that boat trip last year, and she wanted to go, so we went. So, that was, what, about 6 days in and around Srinigar? After that we went up another rung of the altitude ladder to Gulmarg, which is at about 9100 feet.

Oh ho! There’s a card reader here in this dumpy internet place in Kargil, where we are spending the night during this two day bus ride to Leh. I’ll post a picture from our guesthouse window in Gulmarg.

Gurlmarg is a tourist destination for Indians. We were definitely the only two westerners there. Beatrice played it down, saying it’s billing as “paradise on Earth” was an extreme overstatement. Well, paradise is an exageration, but it’s a nice place to spend time. Could be worse. We hung around in the room, went out for a few little walks, and rented a couple of horses for a few hours one day. Beatrice needed to know if I could ride. I passed alright. And the ride through the forest was beautiful. Another day, we took a gondola ride up about halfway to the crest, and walked around up there. I was very bucolic, with the spring patures bright green, the sheep and shepherd boys lazing around in the sun, and us sitting on different high spots looking at scenery. Riding up was nice, though originally we were going to see if we were fit to trek next week. Nah.

Now we are headed for Leh, finally. It’s a beautiful, but slow two day bus ride from Sringar. We took a taxi from Gulmarg to Srinigar in order to catch the 8 AM bus, then rode that to Kargil, about halfway to Leh. We leave again at 4:30 in the morning. Ugh. Here’s a typical view along the way.

So, that’s the story for now. I’ll write again from Leh. I hope all is good with you.

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It’s been awhile since I wrote, I know. There wasn’t much going on in Goa, only hanging out with Beatrice, maybe wandering over to the village, and sitting in one of three places open to eat and watch sunsets in the evening. The last time I was travelling, I would think up things to write about, even if I never did write them or I didn’t decide to send them. I’m not too inspired to do that this time. I guess it’s from not spending so much time alone with my thoughts.

I did finally get out of Goa, on a 42 hour train to Delhi. I’m there now, waiting for another train to Jammu which leaves in two and a half hours. Delhi, of course, has broadband internet, so I can write and post a picture. There is no railway to Srinigar, so I will proceed there by bus after arriving in Jammu in the morning. Beatrice was to fly to Delhi yesterday. After that, she was tring to figure out how to get to Srinigar but was having ticket booking problems. This is India. We’ll meet up in Srinigar, it looks like.

This is such a different trip than last time. Jeepers, I wonder why? I like both ways. There is nothing like a win-win situation.

Beatrice has been trying to convince me to go with her for 2-3 weeks on part of her 10 week horse trek in the mountains of Ladakh. I’m thinking about it. I need to decide pretty soon. Maybe in Srinigar. That would be a cheaper place to buy trekking shoes and cold weather clothes and a sleeping bag. She’s been talking to her contacts in Leh, including the guide. I does look like horses, saddles and other equipment can be arranged. Even the guide’s wife will be happier if Beatrice isn’t sleeping alone in a tent with her husband. I just have to decide. My butt, legs and lungs say “no”, but I think it’ll be much like the hiking/horse trek in the Andes a few years ago, which was great. They can drop me at a roadside where busses pass. I’m inclined to go, and abandon unnecesasry shoes, etc., when I’m finished. Hmmmm.

I don’t have any profound thoughts, not that I ever do. I think I’ll go get some lunch and head back to the train station. I’ll likely write from Srinigar. If not from there, I’ll write from Leh in about a week or so. Be well, all of you.

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Sometimes a like thought in a different language translates well literally. Beatrice’s translation from the German has had us laughing for days, for several reasons. In this case, there is even more truth in the saying than the simple English version. Figure it out. This is a work in progress.

We’ve been here in Arambol, Goa, for 10 days now. Most of it has been us getting to know each other. The activities of the day usually consist of having tea on the porch and looking at the surf, getting a bite to eat, lounging around, having conversations of varying importance, and going on an outing. Usually that’s just going to the village itself to email, shop, or something. We’ve driven around North Goa on a scooter a couple of times. Yesterday we went to Calangute where I could upload these pictures at a high speed connection, then rode around places I hadn’t been. Mostly it’s the same stuff I did last time I was here, only this time I have company.

Beatrice read my first blog entry and remarked that it was just about her. My answer to that was that that is about the only thing going on that is of interest to me. I find that I immediately became Indian again. It’s like going to Stockton and trying to be fascinated with things going on there. I just take it as it comes, and Goa is old hat. At least this beach scene is. Here are the views from the beach in front of our porch. The first is early in the morning. The second is ain the other direction after the sun was all the way up.

To the right of where I was standing to take the second picture is the row of guesthouses and huts where we are staying. Almost everything is closed. One of the few places with available rooms is the place just to the left of  Blue Fin. That little porched area downstairs is where we are staying.

Everything will close up when the monsoon comes. If it doesn’t come before June 1, we will hang out here till then. Then we’ll hed slowly toward Leh in Ladakh, from where Beatrice will go horse trekking for a couple of months. We have to go slowly because she doesn’t adjust well to elevation changes. We’ll do it in stages, first going to Srinigar, Kashmir, then higher to Gulmarg, near there. Then we’ll go to Leh. When she goes, I was planning to go to Nepal then Tibet. but the more I read about Nepal in the rainy season, the less I want to go there. I need to do more research about when it is good to go to Tibet. It seems likely that I’ll just deal with Nepal for as long as it takes to get to Tibet from there.

So, as usual, I’m a little indecisive about what I want to do. As alwaays, though, that’s fine with me. Something might get my attention between now and then.

Beatrice thought I should post this picture of me folding up a leaf of cooked cabbage and devouring it. For those who wanted more pictures of me, you asked for it.

Hi y’all

After returning to California for two months to take care of some business and see my family and friends, I’m back in India. I’ll post some pictures when I am in a place with high speed connection. Currently, I am in North Goa, at the most northerly and low-keyed tourist beach village, Arambol. I arrived in Mumbai on May 6, and met up with my German friend from Dharamsala, Beatrice. You may remember my mentioning her and posting a picture back in October. We kept up via email while she was back in Germany, and planned to meet up this month. She’s going on a two and a half month horse trek in the Himalayas of Ladakh next month. I’m going to the mountainous areas of Northern India and Nepal. then maybe Tibet. I’d like to stay out of the monsoons, if I can. They’ll start here in South India in two or three weeks.

I know inquiring minds want to know… Yes, Beatrice and I are, you might say (or might not, if you were to be watching it), romantically involved. I’m sure I’ll write about that. So far it’s lasted 12 days, anyway. Woo hoo! I’ll post another picture when I can.

My initial thoughts about being back in India… Well, there are a lot. One thing is that right now I’m with someone, and that is much different than almost all of my travels for the last almost 20 years. Obviously, that is completely different. And we’re being romantic, so that’s a lot different than just having a travelling companion. As for being back in India, since we are in Goa, it could be said that we’re not in “real India”. Beatrice needed downtime after working hard. She also has a lot of baggage for her horse trek. So we decided to head for this quiet beach resort where she could relax. I don’t care what we do. Finally, near the end of my last time over here, I was able to internalize that I am not in a hurry, that there is nothin I have to do. This place is as good as the next, and I’ll be in “real India” soon enough, when Beatrice heads out.

I’m curious. I’d like to know who is reading this. If you read this, could you send an email or write a comment on this site?

Tomorrow, I think I’ll take a scooter or motorbike to Calangute, about 20 km away. I need to go to an ATM. There will be high speed internet there. I’ll write again and post a few pictures.

I hope all has been well with you all and, again, I hope to hear from you.

Here is the picture of the Taj Mahal you are all acquainted with. You go in the south gate, and there it is. Most people walk around and in it for a couple of hours. This is what I did, though I felt like going again to see it in the evening, so I talked my way back in. I didn’t want to go the $15 entrance fee again. Is it the most beautiful building in the world, as the Indians like to think? You be the judge. Like all sites like this, being there is different than just seeing pictures. I think it’s the most beautiful mausoleum I’ve ever seen. It’s covered in carved and inlaid marble, and it’s been well preserved and cleaned.

Here is another shot from inside taken at dawn.

I got to Agra on a Friday, so because there is a mosque over there to the left, the site was closed to non-Muslims. So that day, I walked around the outside of the walls. One might think it would be highly developed, but it’s not on two sides. Here’s the path on the west side.

To the north is the Yamuna River. Here is the view over the wall at the back of the Taj and upriver, if you pan to the right toward the 17th century Agra Fort.

On the east side are some shops not worth photographing, and to the south is the tourist ghetto which is also not worth photographing.

There are a couple of other things to see in Agra. there’s another mausoleum, which is usually called the mini Taj, a small palace, and a temple which has been under construction for 100 years called Dayal Bagh. It is going to be very beautiful. Unfortunately they don’t allow photography, but you might be able to search it.

Most people stay here for a day, maybe two. I’ve been here a week because I tweaked my back about five days ago and am resting it. I could have checked out two or three other places within three hours of here, but decided to bag it. I’m okay with what I’ve seen in India this time, and my plane home is tomorrow night from Delhi, only 200 km away. I’m just hanging out, reading, eating, watching TV, and surfing the net.

I did get out to Fatehpur Sikri, about 20 km from here. This, of course, is an hour bus ride from here. Oh, my back! It was the Moghul capital for about ten years. After they built it, they learned there was no water. Hence, it was also called Akbar’s Folly. It looks better than the pictures.

Finally, here is the front of Agra Fort and the view downriver to the Taj.

I’ll be returning to India in May, insha Allah. This is probably my last entry from India. Maybe, even probably, I’ll write from the US. But if not, I hope you all are having a nice almost spring and thanks for reading these things.

  2500 years ago, the newly enlightened Siddhartha Gautama met up with a few of his ascetic friends who were shocked that he had given up self-denial as a means to transcend the human experience. Ascetism had been an unquestioned means of doing this for a minimum of a thousand years. He had a lot to explain. To their credit, they sat  and heard him out in Sarnath, “the place of deer”, about 10 km north of Varanasi.

In the eastern part of an area of the ruins of centuries of monasteries and monuments is that big reconstructed stupa. It marks the spot where it is said that first sermon set the wheel in motion. Things were never the same again for those ascetics and, arguably, anybody else. They listened, and a few more people came. Then a few more.

Not much remains of the structures in Deer Park. After the patronage of Ashoka and the Mauryan Dynasty he founded, Buddhism went into decline, though not without Hindu mythology incorporating the Buddha into Hinduism as the 8th incarnation of Krishna. The real end to Sarnath came at the hands of invading Muslims who used the crumbling buildings’ stone and brick as building material. What you see there now is heavily restored, and mostly that is just foundations. There is a broken pillar of Ashoka’s, warning against schism, and few other artifacts. That stupa was rebuilt with about 25% original bits, painstakingly placed where the ararchaeologists think they belong. To the north is a deer park, where you can walk in peace and, maybe, have a little moment of insight yourself. And, yes, they’ve put some deer in Deer Park.

Outside the site you see about what you would expect. There are, I think, nine temples. Right inside the site boundry is a Jain temple. There are also dozens of souvenir stands and shops, food and drink stands, packs of rickshaw drivers, Indian and “Continental” (meaning western, after a fashion) restaurants, beggars, etc., the same as you see in any place like this. All in all, I’d say this place seems like it would be at least an intersting place for anyone. Surprisingly, though many thousands of tourists go to Varanasi, few go to Sarnath. Aside from that big group of people listening to a monk shown in the second picture, I’ll bet not more than about 50 people went inside the site for the 3 hours I was there. There were only a couple of sleeping homeless Indians in the deer park. Peaceful is good, I guess.

Every time I think I’ve seen enough of India, someplace or something comes along that reminds me why I like this country. It is full of surprises. I went to Varanasi in a very blase’ mood, counting the days till I return to the US and feeling like I had to “do” Varanasi. I’m so glad I did. I’ve seen the photos, the documentaries and the National Geographics about the spirituality and sights. I’ve been to many old cities in many ancient cities. I’ve had rooms with views and eaten in so many cuisines that I’m too confused to discuss it. But Varanasi is something special, not so much because the cuisine is that great, or the views more outstanding than other outstanding views around the world, or that the spirituality is any more palpable than several places in the world. It’s not the most exotic place I’ve ever been. It’s just that it’s all there, and it’s unique, even in India.

The first picture is from my room window. I love my rooms with a view. Here, I’d rest sometimes after my feet were tired, lean on the sill, and watch the sights far and near. This view is up the Ganges. One can see why the ancients built a city here. At this bend in the river, there is a broad, sandy flood plain on the other side. On this side, the bank is relatively steep. So, the rising and falling river mostly affects the other side. On this side, it just goes up and down the ghats, or steps.

You have to go up to the rooftop terrace restaurant to see the other way, down the river.

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Just to the left of the pink pavillion in the lower left are the famous burning ghats, where probably a hundred of Hindus are cremated. They ask for us not to take pictures of cremations, and as much as I wanted to and could have gotten away with it, I respected that. You’ll have to pick the National Geographic or search the net for that.

The following pictures are of along the ghats, taken either form on the ghats or during the early morning boat cruise many tourists take.

Here’s looking across the Ganges at dawn. The swimmers in the distance are cleansing themselves of their sins in one of the most polluted rivers in the world.

Varanasi is fulll of holy men, called sadhus. Some are extreme. Most just quietly amble the streets, begging for food or money. They give blessings. Sometimes they just sit around, or sit around smoking hash. One of the following is of some tourists smoking with the sadhus.

There was a big prayer ceremony in Varanasi commemorating Shiva’s marriage to Paravati while I was there.

 

One of the more extreme sadhus had a practice of wrapping his penis around Shiva’s trident. At first, I thought he had probably gradually made a hole in it and put the trident shaft through it. I went to where he was again, and it wasn’t THAT extreme. what he has done is gradually stretched his foreskin so it could be wrapped around the shaft once, then secured. then he rotated the shaft 360 degrees, pulling up all the stretched loose skin along the side. Then, he turned it 360 more degrees, wrapping his penis around the shaft.

As if that wasn’t enough, he put the shaft between his legs and had another holy man stand on it.

I do notice that he’s holding the weight with his hands. The other sadhu has the elephant man’s disease, a rare and enviable blessing.

Three and four wheeled vehicles are not allowed on the old city’s narrow lanes. This gives it a certain charm. Of course, part of the charm is the slurry of cow flop and garbage you have to wade through.

So, there you have it from Varanasi. I’m hoping a picture says a thousand words. It’s interesting this time, with picture posting capability. I’m hardly writing anything. Maybe next time around, I’ll write more. I feel a need to express myself, but I know few want to hear that. I’m thinking the pictures are more entertaining.