Brian Buckland Photography Blog

Once in town, if you leave the Main Station in Taipei, Taiwan and head due south, you’ll be standing on a street corner wondering if the Taiwanese rail had transported you across the globe to NYC. Looking across the street and turning left to right you’ll see, without taking a step, a McDonalds, a Dunkin Donuts, 2 Starbucks, a Cold Stone Creamery and 4…..count em….4 – 7 Elevens……oh yeah….and a couple of Taiwanese shops as well. Taiwan is NOT China. The people are friendlier, the city is much easier to get around, and not everyone is trying to rip you off. However, the entire time I was in Taiwan it was either cloudy or raining. I did go up in the Taipei 101 and managed to catch a glimpse of the ground blaze by as holes in the clouds presented themselves. Oh well….I had to try! I also fell victim to the obligatory ice cream cone at the top of the world tallest building. Of course it was sold at a MövenPicken stand….how perfect.

After leaving Taiwan I made my way to Hanoi, Vietnam. I have never seen so many bouquets of flowers before in my life. Actually I have, but it usually involved someone’s demise. This time however I had just cleared customs at Hanoi’s International Airport. Throngs of people jammed the exit way eagerly anticipating a loved one’s return home. I haven’t seen so much genuine love and happiness while waiting for my driver to find his other fare than I did that day. Passenger after passenger cleared customs and made their way to the gauntlet of loved ones waiting to jam a huge bouquet of flowers into their hands and simultaneously envelop them in a massive group hug. This went on for 15 minutes as I waited and it didn’t relent when I left. As I was walking next to the driver out to the car, I turned to him and asked, “So where are my flowers?” He looked at me a little confused and I told him to never mind….I don’t think he got it……

Hanoi is a pretty cool city. It’s been the capital of the area for hundreds of years and it’s pretty obvious why. It reminded me a bit of Bali with all of the motor bikes all over the place and tourism is certainly a main draw to the area as there were westerners everywhere! Not Americans per se…..but westerners from all over the globe. Definitely worth checking out!

Just a thought:

You know it’s a good day when……you reach for your wallet before leaving the hotel room to check and see how much you have left. You want to make sure that you have enough for the next few days. You grab a wad of bills and count out 1.8 Million Dong. The funny thing is…..you’re still asking yourself….is that going to be enough?

I picked up my passport at the Laos Embassy in Hanoi and continued to stroll down the road back towards the Old Quarter……on the next block was the Cambodian Embassy….and on the next block was the Iraq Embassy…..hmmm…..I thought about stopping and putting my bag down to get my camera out and snap a shot, but then I thought, if the armed Vietnamese guard sees the American looking guy drop his bag in front of the Iraqi Embassy…..it might not be such a good idea. So I decided to pass on the photo op. Call me crazy…..but I figured I keep on walking. Not long after I came upon the Hanoi Hilton. The original Hilton that is…..There’s not much left of it besides the main wall and a little area to show the tourist. The rest was knocked down to make room for a Sofitel Hotel……the actual Hilton Hotel is over by the Opera House. Pretty crazy to think that where they once held hundreds of American POW’s, they now charge almost $200 a night for a high end hotel room. And $200 in Hanoi goes a long, long way….

After taking a 2 hour bus from Chiang Rai, I arrived in Chiang Khong. Hoping a quick tuk tuk I caught a lift over to the Mekong River where I experienced the most lax boarder crossing I have ever experienced. You need to go out of your way to make sure you get stamped both out of Thailand and into Laos. Hiring a long boat to make the 5 minute trip across the Mekong (costing 30 Bhat, i.e.1 USD) a breeze.. Not a bad deal at all! Huay Xai, Laos awaits and is not much more than one main road. Grabbing a room at the BAP guest house I strolled over to the office for the Gibbon Experience. If you’ve heard of it then you’ll know, if you haven’t let me tell you about it. 3 days and 2 nights in the Laos jungle. All transport and food included. A few hours hike in and out. The catch is this…..you’ll be staying about 150 feet up in a tree house with 7 other people and the only way to get there is via zip lines.

Actually, there are 5 tree houses all together (with 2 more under construction) all connected with a network of more than 20 zip lines, the longest being almost 1000 meters. It’s wild…..that’s the best way I can describe. One of the best suggestions I’ve had yet on this trip! Thanks Whit! I’ve got a few videos I made from borrowing a friends camera. Check em out!

This first one is of a nice long zip way above the tree tops.

The next one is actually 2 put together of me leaving the tree house and returning to the tree house.

Now I’m on my way back to Hanoi to meet up with a friend and tour the coast of Vietnam and Cambodia for the next month or so before making my way to Japan. More to come for sure……I’m just getting started!

Once the camp was over…..I bought a car and got ready to head down to Peru. Before heading down I took some time to reflect on where I had been and what I had done in the last several months. Hiking volcano’s in both Bali and Hawaii, crossing the Charles Bridge in Prague and the Sydney Harbor Bridge in Australia, touring the Taj Mahal, swimming in the Dead Sea, visiting the 12 Apostles in Oz & Dracula’s castle in Transylvania. I strolled through Red Square in Moscow past Lenin’s Tomb then into the Kremlin and Tiananmen Square in Beijing where a once upon a time student went head to head with a tank as the international community watched. I hiked for a few hours over the Great Wall of China and took the 6 plus day journey on the Trans Siberian Railroad. I also went to the top or just saw some of the highest communication towers in the world including Sydney, Shanghai, Kuala Lumpur and Moscow. It’s really hard to sum up a journey like that in a few sentences, but when I looked back I realized that I packed what would be for some a life time of holidays in just 4 months. Yet my journey wasn’t over. The Sevich Tsunami was meeting in Lima and I needed to be there. There were 10 of us in all, and everyone made their own contribution to the trip in some way, shape or form……

From my seat left, there was Kelly (Nancy’s sister) who is currently in the Peace Corp in Costa Rica, Leah (Kelly’s life long friend from Boston) currently hunting for a job, Brian (Jeff’s buddy from ages ago….skier and hiker extraordinaire) who is from NJ (and yes….we did hold that against him), Jeff and Nancy (co-founders of the Sevich Tsunami) organizers of the whole trip, Gina and Brian (Yes….another Brian….there were 3 of us) Gina is Nancy’s friend from high school and her soon to be husband, Brandy (from the ATL) who contributed countless Lama dances, Cathy (from Boston) was our sacrificial lamb. She accepted everyone’s hiking boot blisters for us, and of course there was yours truly, I’m just a vagabond looking for a home in Peru. The crew had gotten together and we found our way to Cusco. The trip had begun!

When signing up for a hike on the Inca Trail, responsible tour operators require you to arrive in Cusco at least 48 hours prior to the hike in order for your body to acclimatize. We had arrived 72 hours ahead of time leaving us plenty of time to rest and explore the city. Cusco is located at about 11,500 feet above sea level, so walking up a flight of stairs will have you breathing heavy and spending a day hiking on the Inca Trail would leave sitting on the side of the trail sucking wind. So what did we do? Well, the first day we caught a bus over to Pisaq which is situated east of the Sacred Valley of the Incas. There is a pretty well known market there as well as a few trails to hike up to old ruins. We figured why listen to all the advice we were given and why not push out bodies a little?

After the markets and some local food, off we went to hike the side of the mountain. Most of us….myself included didn’t want to push it too much and decided that getting to the first ruin was enough……Brandy and Gaynor went further and found some more, even better ruins that we missed out on. Those two were our rouges. One minute they were standing right next to you and the next they’d be on top of the hill you were standing next to yelling down at you.

After wiping ourselves out that night we got back to our hotel and had pizza and beer delivered to the room. We were all surprised when the pizza box came with a Ron Jeremy look alike on the cover…..it was either that or Super Mario…..none of us are sure, but most were hoping for the latter.

Cusco is a city in southeastern Peru near the Sacred Valley (Urubamba Valley of the Andes mountains). The next day, our second in Cusco, our rest and relaxation as we were acclimatizing to the conditions included a several hour hike up to Sacsayhuaman, which was commonly reffered to as Sexy Woman for obvious reasons, Tambomachay and Pukapukara. This is a group of ruins that is located just to the north of the main square on your way to see Jesus. Just walking through town and up the side of the hill we were able to see some amazing sites and we weren’t even on the trail yet.

Our last day in town before beginning our adventure we decided to truly take it easy and make our way over to the markets. These were not your every day markets you might be used to in the states. Sure they had socks and underwear and hats and gloves, but they also had fresh squeezed juices, fruits, packaged foods, petrified alpacas, pigs feet, headless plucked chickens, pigs heads, full sides of beef and of course flowers. You can really pretty a place up with some nice flowers. Yes, it was a true Peruvian Market that was not located in the tourist area. For me that was a huge relief as the tourist scene was really beginning to wear on me. It was a nice reprieve to see how the locals lived and shopped. That’s something that I had looked for in all of the countries I had visited…..find somewhere there are no tourist and TONS of locals…..this was that place.

Day 1. The bus arrived at our hotel around 5:20 am. There would be 16 of us in our group, 21 porters (2 of which were cooks), a lead guide and an assistant guide (she was the one that followed the group and kept kicking the slackers last in line and making sure they kept moving.) The bus brought us to kilometer 82 which was the trail head and where the Peruvian government had setup a control point, passports were checked and stamped and matched up with tickets that had been purchased back in October. While we would be on the trail a total of 4 days, the government had limited the number of tourists to 500 per day anywhere on the trail. So 125 new hikers showed up each day to take their turn.

To start the day Brandy and Cathy were showing us their new stretch….I think they called it the upward dog, their twist on yoga above the ground. The hike started and within 30 minutes we were donning our rain gear. Fortunately it was just a sprinkle and the worst we had the entire trip. After constant bombardment from our guides about making sure we stay hydrated and to keep drinking water, we past an America who was on the back of a donkey being lead by a Peruvian guide. The only problem was that he was heading down. He had a big smile and said, “Inca Ambulance….drink lots of water and stay hydrated……I didn’t”. It was almost as if our guides had paid these characters to set up this elaborate illustration to help drive the point home. Obviously they didn’t, but we got the hint anyway. Altitude sickness was serious business and not to be taken lightly. That night we made camp and the moon was bright. We needed a good nights sleep because the infamous day 2 was in front of us as was the 5 ish wake up call….

Day 2. Everyone that we had talked to about this hike had warned us about Day 2. It was the most vertical and the roughest of the days. Day 3 was cake to Day 2. Having to out do everyone in my group, I won the heaviest pack award and went from leading the group the first day to trailing towards the end as my pack seemed to be pulling me backwards down the mountain. I attempted to make the pack lighter by eating all the snacks that I had and drinking tons of the water as quickly as possible. For some reason it was still the heaviest pack out of all of us. Even the porters laughed at me as they were sprinting by wearing nothing but sandals, shorts and a t-shirt.

Having only two functional batteries for my camera, I kept the shooting to a minimum the second day as I was fearful that I would run out before the prize at the end that was Machu Piccu. We started the day with a group shot of everyone including the porters. Then I had to get one of Brandy taking out Cathy. Not sure what was going on there but our theory is they were working on a new yoga technique yet again.

Day 3. We hiked, we smiled, we felt good. The hell of Day 2 was behind us and we had crossed dead woman’s pass. Our camp site was at 11,900 feet and a few of us were having some altitude issues, but with a little hydration, some food…..and puking a few times……we got past it and carried on. The weather was perfect, the sun was out…not too hot and not too cold we scaled the side of the mountain crossing pass after pass and ruin after ruin.

The trail was as interesting as the ruins were. One moment we were walking in what seemed to be a rain forest and the next we were on the side of a sheer cliff with nothing to catch us if we fell. It traversed the mountain side weaving and winding and sometimes going through caves and back again. Some steps were stones put in place while others were simply carved from the stones that made up the mountainside itself. Walking sticks would have been a good idea this day and the there was a lot of downward steps to be had and you could feel it in the knees. Lots of it was very steep as well, both up and down.

While going around the side of the mountain during a rather flat section of the trail, I was caught off guard by screaming and our tail guide running past yelling at the porters that had just passed us. Something seemed to be up and in a bad way. When the front runners stopped and headed back to check on the rest of the group, we quickly realized that someone had taken a spill off the trail. Once we got to the rest of the group, our porters were blazing around the corner having jettisoned their packs and sprinted full speed to the rescue of some unlucky hiker. It was Rick from Canada. There he was standing about 20 feet below us looking up. Apparently he had stepped on the outside edge of a rock about a foot and a half square and it gave way sending him tumbling backwards and head first down the side of the mountain into tons of vegetation. He had fallen head first on his back, his backpack taking the brunt of it, he slide down about 20 feet until the undergrowth stopped his fall. Later that day all he had on him were a few scratches on his head and a little limp. Not bad for falling off the Inca trail……they sure don’t build em like the used to….

We passed more ruins and then more terraces in our journey finally ending at our last camp site for the trip. This was the end of our third day of hiking and those who were quick enough rewarded themselves with a hot shower while the rest of us, myself included went yet another day without and just enjoyed the final dinner. It was an early night as the next day we would make a run for Machu Piccu. We wanted to be first in line and first to the Sun Gate……so our wake up time was 3:40am. Ouch….that’s all I have to say about that one….

Day 4. It started earlier than all the days before. 3:40 am was our call to wake and get some breakfast so that we could get in line and get to the check point first. The check point opened just before 5:30 am and by that time there were about 10 groups behind us. Of course we were first in line and once we cleared that point it was like we were in the Amazing Race. We grabbed our ticket and made a run for it. Headlamps blazing we were going at a steady clip…….then, slowly but surely the headlamps started to turn off one by one. Not because it was getting light out, but because we had a full moon and the lamps were limiting us. With some hesitation I switched mine off……and after about 30 seconds of running just waiting for that ankle to give out I could start to see the uneven rocks that I was running on, only this time I could see much more and our speed had increased. We were on a tear as we ripped over the mountain passes and onward towards the Sun Gate. I’ve got to be honest….it was one of the most fun hours of the entire trek, going at a good pace with a full pack on your back and racing the masses that crowd Machu Piccu each and every day.

The Sun Gate…..we made it. The sun had yet to hit Machu Piccu, but we could already see the lines queuing in the distance as it would be another 40 minutes before we got down to the site itself. No rest in site, we were off…..

On that tear down the mountain toward the site, we past a few people walking the wrong way towards the sun gate. One asked….where did you come from? ‘Cusco’ we replied with big grins. Knowing full well that they had taken a train and then a bus to see the remains of the Incan empire. By the time we got there we started to see the flood of tourists that took the easy route and by no means earned the glory of being first on the mountain that day. They had their shiny hiking boots ready for the worst, yet they had all taken a bus up the hill and a train from town. It was a bit sad, but it made us feel that much better about walking around the site as we had come the way the Incas would have come back in the day.

We shared those first few rays of sunlight with the Lamas that called Machu Piccu home and stood in awe of what past civilizations had built at the top of a remote mountainside in the middle of the Andes. It was impressive to say the least. Something that I won’t be forgetting any time soon….

The stone work was amazing. Seeing how the Inca’s built everything and finished it while it was in place was impressive. It was a bit sad to see how the archeologists who “restored” Machu Piccu a few decades ago did so. While the foundations of most of the buildings were intact, the structures had all been knocked over. So instead of replicating the stonework that the Inca’s had done once upon a time, they simply stacked stones to complete the structure. While this gives you a better representation of what the buildings would have looked like in their original state, in my opinion, it was more an insult to the past cultures that worked tirelessly in order to shape the stones the way they were. You’ll see a shot below with a round building….in the base you’ll see the Inca stones….and at the top you’ll see the restorer’s version. It’s hard to even compare the two…

Finally we made our way back down the mountain and grabbed some food. Guinea Pig anyone? Then since you are only allowed to travel in one direction on the Inca Trail, we took the train back to Cusco.

A flight to Lima the next morning allowed us to spend the day running around Lima exploring what more Peru had to offer. We found a great little lunch place that served ceviche. The tuna was so tender you just sat your fork on it and it was cut in two. Then a night flight back to Miami then Boston and we were home. There has been a bit of culture shock during all of this…..not in the countries I have visited but coming home to America. I see things that I used to do and buy that I can’t even think about buying any more. Don’t worry…I’m not all save the earth, I’m going green or anything. Just being a little bit more aware of what the American machine feeds the masses. Literally and figuratively. Anywhoo……all in all I’m glad to be home…..even though I don’t actually have a home…… I’ve got a full summer of driving across the country and visiting with friends and family….oh yeah, and skydiving! I drove straight to Chicago the day after I was back for Project Horizon then down to Florida via ATL and am now in SC. In the next few days I’ll be bombing up the east coast Boston bound for another camp, then out to Montana. Fun summer indeed!

Well….that’s it with the blogs for a while. I’m stoked so many people followed along and enjoyed the pics! They’ll be more later on in the summer when I have something to write about. In the mean time now I have to start figuring out what I’m going to do when I grow up and where I’m going to live! Any ideas, I’m all ears……

BTW…..Brandy, your landlord Pearl called……something about the dancing Lamas were eating all of the quinoa. What the hell is quinoa anyways? And where did you get dancing Lamas?!?!?!

When we left Krakow, we caught a flight to Dubrovnik, Croatia. I have heard in the past that the Croatian coast is something that needs to be seen. What I had heard was correct. Dubrovnik is a city that has so much to offer. Whether it’s a stroll through the old town or hoping a boat out to one of the many, many islands around, you really can’t go wrong here.

The old town is an ancient walled city that has been revitalized and is now the focus of many tourists as well as multiple cruise ships. A 15 foot wide wall encircles the entire town and you are permitted to walk around the top of it for a small fee where you can soak up all of the breath taking views out over the town and surrounding ocean scapes. It takes just about 45 minutes to make it all the way around stopping for pictures here and there. Something worthy of note is that back in ’91-’92 the Yugoslavian Army decided that the old town’s walled city was a threat and proceeded to mortar the town destroying several buildings and damaging almost all of the roofs. You’ll see below that most of the roof tiles are nice new red clay tiles that show little signs of aging. About 80 % of all the roofs in the town had to be replaced. Some buildings still lie in ruins as a reminder of the senseless attack. The port is also a spot where you can hop a quick ferry out to one of the many islands and is attached directly to the old town.

On one of the islands we found dozens and dozens of peacocks. I was surprised at how close we could get without them being startled. We even had one show off and display their feathers in all his grandeur. During our hike the day before around the old town wall, we noticed a little café on the outside of the wall perched on the rocky cliffs below. It was just about 15 tables with umbrellas, offering a perfect view of sunset with the ocean crashing on the rocky shore about 50 feet below. The next day we venture to another island this time a little further away. On our boat ride out we passed what looked just like the new Zakim Bridge in Boston, but only half of it. This island was much larger and had more inhabitance than the first. Hiking straight across the island to the main beach in a hidden little cove we caught some sun and enjoyed our last few days in Croatia.

After traveling with my friend from London through several countries, she fell in love with Croatia and decided that she was staying. Wanting to see some other friends in Munich I ventured on and made my way to Germany. Staying in the heart of Munich, there were people every where. Walking on the main drag from the train station to Marianplatz I saw plenty. Everything from clowns on stilts, to paparazzi, to members of the red cross descending from a church tower, to beer gardens full of people, to a soon to be bride with all of her friends being entertained by a swan on a bicycle, to an organized parade that was in protest of a new runway at Munich’s airport which would accommodate the new Airbus 380, to finally, my old friend Sonja. It was good to see an old friend in a familiar city. While only there a few days I was able to explore all over and was even shown an area in the middle of town where the river and the concrete blocks underneath formed a stationary wave which is big for surfers from all over town. Surfing in the middle of a city….who would have thought.

Getting up early I caught a 6:00 am train to Prague. I was in Prague 10 years ago backpacking around Europe, and I’ve always wanted to go back. It didn’t take too much time before I found myself walking through the old town square over to Prague’s Astronomical Clock. This is a huge tourist attraction as on the hour 4 animated figured appear and ring in the hour. According to the stories, these 4 figures represent that which is despised, death, vanity, Judaism and Turkish. Regardless of the meaning it’s a huge tourist attraction, large enough for me to grab a picture of the crowd staring up at it. Next on the list was a trip to the café on the water with an amazing view of the Charles Bridge, followed by a tour of the bridge itself. Be sure to rub the brass plaque for luck as you cross the bridge, people would line up for the chance. With statues surrounding the bridge and vendors all around, the Charles Bridge is a place in Prague that you’ll find yourself over and over again.

Waiting in the tower on the bridge for sunset, I was able to capture a few key shots as the sun fell. I even grabbed some more from the street with the North Star shining bright….

The last day was off to the castle on the hill. This brought back a lot of memories from 10 years ago. Sitting in that square watching a friend sketch the church spires and the buildings all around. There I was again 10 years later staring up at the magnificent building wondering where all the time went and where those friends are today. You could say I had a moment, but it was a good moment and it made me glad that I made the extra journey out to Prague once again. Leaving the castle I chose the path less traveled and ended up in the King’s Garden, a pretty cool little place to rest for a spell and catch up on some reading. Then I ventured over to the park next door for the postcard view of the bridges in downtown Praha.

Finally I hopped over to London to meet up with my friend and wait for my flight back to Boston. I did run around London but left the camera at home….hey…I needed a break! That and it was raining the whole time. Who knew….rain in London! Anywhoo……I did see the quick sites in town and made my way back to Boston. Now I am 2 days away before leaving for a trip to Peru with 10 other friends. In a few more weeks I should have some nice shots of the Inca trail and Machu Picchu. What a way to end an already unforgettable journey. And I honestly hope that most of you have enjoyed the pictures and the writing as much as I have enjoying taking them and presenting them to you. One more post to come….stay tuned….. 

 

-Brian

I flew from Tel Aviv to Istanbul, Turkey. A land where east truly meets west. This was to begin my 2 ½ weeks of travel through eastern Europe. An old friend that I haven’t seen in 13 years caught wind that I was going to be in the area and decided to join in the fun. Lauren has been living in the UK for the last year or so and needed a break from the corporate life, something I could completely understand and sympathize with. We were to meet at the Seven Hills Hotel in Sultanahmet, Istanbul. Since I arrived a few hours early and there seemed to be some confusion about checking in, I stowed my bags with the front desk and ascended to the rooftop restaurant for some brekky and the scenery. With views of the water, rooftops and the Blue Mosque, it was something that would take a bit to soak in. There were rooftop terraces all over town and the Mosque just towered in the distance. It’s awe inspiring presence made me want to run down and start exploring the city right away.

The end of April was the perfect time to visit. Spring had sprung and all of the flowers were in bloom. There was even a tulip festival in one of the main squares that we happened past. I’m not a huge flower guy, but they just made the beauty of the land that much more powerful. With ornate mosques around every corner and amazing arrays of flowers in full bloom just adding tons of color to everything, it was the perfect timing for an aspiring photographer.

After walking through the parks we found our way to the shoreline where hundreds had gathered to take in the perfect day. It seemed to be the spot for the locals to buy some of the local bbq food and have a picnic. From there we made our way to the markets and through some old off the map neighborhoods to see how the locals really live. We even stumbled on some young girls teasing the boys on the other side of an old boarded up building providing the perfect photo op. Then we ended the day back at the Mosque for some night shots….

Istanbul ended under ground at the Basilica Cistern. A subterranean cavern, man made to hold water back in the day. Today however it’s been drained of all but a few feet of water and walkways and lighting have been put in so that you can see the engineering marvels of the generations past. The reflection of the columns off the water made it a spectacular view and the very dim lighting made it a challenge to photograph for any photographer without a tripod.

Off to Romania where they were gearing up Bucharest for the Formula 3 race that would shutdown the streets and close off the Parliament. The parks and the land were nice, but Bucharest still has a ways to go before it catches up to Prague or Budapest. Remember 1989 was a common theme in town and they even had a square named after it. Obviously an important day in history to everyone that lived in the land, Romania is now a member of the EU and is in process of attempting to strengthen their economy to make it a better place for everyone.

Around town there were several sights to see from the old buildings to the new and the architecture in between. Including one of the worst coke ads that I’ve ever seen that I felt compelled to post…..so does it make you thirsty? We also decided that it would be nice to step it up a notch and stay in a decent hotel. We went to book two nights and were told that they only had one available, but the second night we could stay at the Venezia which was a new hotel owned by the same owner and had the same quality. However it was not open for business yet and would be opened the day we needed it. It turns out that we were their first guests ever and received the royal treatment included gifts brought to the room once we checked in and got settled. A very nice place indeed!

The following day we caught a train to Brasov and then Bran which is located in Transylvania. It’s also home to the modern day Dracula’s castle. I have to say that this excursion made our trip to Romania as the country side was what would put you in touch with nature. The pure beauty and unpolluted scenery of the snow capped mountains was something that made you breath a sigh of relaxation. The castle itself and it’s surroundings were amazing. The old buildings around the castle were as old as the castle itself just adding to the ambiance.

Next stop was Budapest. This was a repeat city for me as I was here with my buddy Kevin back in 1997. However one of the main things that I missed on that go around was the Castle Hill and all that was inside. I found out this time around that I missed a huge part of Buda. Buda as you may not know is on one side of the river while Pest is on the other side of the Danube. Running around seeing churches and Palaces everything in between we tired ourselves out and headed to Pest where we found a little café for drinks and dinner. Sitting next to a few guys who were obviously from NY, I couldn’t help but throw on my Sox cap and give them a big smile. Of course that drew instant comments in my direction, but it was all good as we enjoyed dinner in Pest and they disappeared into the endless crowds that flowed by at a constant pace. That evening we had a night train to Krakow……who knows what Poland will hold, but so far I’ve only heard good things from other travelers. We shall see….

In the past, traveling to Israel always seemed like a strange concept to me. Why would anyone want to go to a place that is in the news every other week for people being blown up by a suicide bomber as they sip on a double espresso at their neighborhood coffee shop with dogs running around, babies in strollers and people just trying to enjoy life? It seemed like this was a normal phenomenon for Israelis. What I found was something that I was not expecting. However my trip to Israel didn’t start in Israel, it started in Moscow…..

Moscow’s Domodedovo Airport. My flight to Tel Aviv was on El Al Airlines, Israel’s flagship airlines that flies all over the world. Since Israel probably has the most enemies outside of the USA, if not more, they have very tight security. Prior to getting to the check-in counter, your checked luggage must be x-ray, tagged, and only then you can approach the counter and get your boarding pass. After answering a series of questions such as why I was going to Israel, if I had family there, if I was a Jew or practicing any religion, I was cleared to get my bag screened. Once my pack was launched out the side of the x-ray machine, security personnel asked me to open every pocket in order to swab the insides. This was the familiar explosives swab that is performed at random in airports around the world. However this time the machine kicked out a non-descript red screen that flashed ‘Contaminant’ and ‘TNT’ with a series of numbers listed next to each. Immediately I knew I was in for it. I looked at my watch and was thankful that I was over 2 hours early. Let me be the first to say that when traveling to Israel from Russia, this is the last thing that you want to see flash across the screen. What followed was their supervisor bringing me to the ‘back room’ for further inspection. After being told to empty every single item out of both of my bags into 3 large plastic bins, I was asked to leave the room and wait outside for their inspection of my gear to be completed. For the first time flying on a commercial airliner, I was glad I didn’t have my parachute. Once the full inspection was complete, and after I plugged in every electronic component that I had, which included 2 cell phones, camera battery charger and laptop, I was cleared to head to the gate. During the time of the inquisition, another of the staff had checked me in.

To the gate… After having every item I’ve been carrying for the past 4 months inspected thoroughly, my next boondoggle was the standard airport security check. Sending all metal items through the x-ray, I stepped through the metal detector and into the full body scanner. Turning 90 degrees to my right in order to match the footprints on the floor of the scanner, a technician instructed me to raise my arms above my head in three languages. Upon doing so, a large arm about 8 feet tall whipped across in front of me and behind me simultaneously. I was cleared to step forward. When I looked back at the screen I could see what looked like one of the screens from Total Recall, there was my body, as viewed through the eyes that don’t lie. A full body image highlighting every bump and contour, not hiding anything at all and for all the world to see. What better way to see if someone is carrying something under their clothes. Once clear of airport security I had to traverse gate security. After answering a few questions and handing over my ticket, I was asked to come to their special room where I had to empty all of my pockets, take off my shoes, unbutton / zip my pants for a full inspection. A full body pat down and handheld metal detector was under way by a Ruski that in my opinion now owes me dinner! After sending my things through the x-ray that’s at the gate all over again, I was finally allowed to rejoin the masses and board the aircraft. When we finally started to taxi out, I noticed that we were being followed by an El Al security vehicle that acted as an escort and was with us until we made the final turn onto the runway from the taxi way. I can honestly say that I’ve never felt safer on a flight.

Tel Aviv. Once clearing passport control without any stamps added to my passport, I walked out to see Uri’s smiling face waiting for me. He picked me up in his Rav 4, one that was identical to the one he had in Boston. Off we went back to his place in town where I met Tali, his Fiancé that will be his wife on June 1st, and his 3 year old Boston Terrier, Bluto. They lived on a street that reminded of the Boulevard in Providence. There were always people walking, riding bikes and taking their dogs for a stroll. A few blocks down they even had a coffee shop in the middle that seemed to be crowded no matter what the time of day. Having a lot of work keeping him busy, Uri dropped me off with Yonatan and Ella. Once again on this trip, I’ve had the complete luck with timing as they just happened to be here visiting for a few weeks so that Yono could sort out his new Visa. I had arrived on Memorial Day in Israel. Everything was pretty much closed as they remembered those that have been lost over the years in the wars and other terrorist attacks. One of the things that they do is sound the warning sirens for one minute twice that day and everyone stops and takes a minute to remember friends and families less fortunate. Yonatan, Ella and I walked to the sidewalk overpass on the highway where we stood as the horn sounded. Cars in both directions stopped as their occupants stepped out and stood in the road to remember. I was a bit surreal to see traffic on a major road come to a complete halt as people stopped, stood and thought about friends they used to know.

The next day was Independence Day. Being a public holiday, everyone heads to the parks and cooks out while we went to Ram’s house in Jaffa for a BBQ. Before getting to his house, Uri, Tali and I walked around the old port city of Jaffa. It was the first time I got to really see them as the couple that they are. After spending a week with them, I think it’s safe to say that they’ve made a good match.

Wanting to see some of the sights in Israel, off we went to the Dead Sea. Uri told me that we were driving a little bit out of the way in order to avoid Jericho. I guess there had been some sniper activity in the past near that town so it was best to drive a little further and go the long way around. On the drive down and back, we saw 5 F-15 jets, 2 Blackhawk’s and a CH-53 chopper. Remembering that the other side of the Dead Sea is actually Jordan, Uri told me that there were a couple of air bases down there which is why we saw so much activity. 

The Dead Sea is actually the lowest point on earth not covered in ice. It’s 1370 feet below sea level. While we were there, an F-15 went right over top at about 500 feet AGL. The thought of reading the altimeter in the cockpit and seeing negative 800 feet MSL in a fighter jet must be a unique experience. Having almost 9x the salinity than ocean water, the Dead Sea leaves your skin with an oily feel while you’re in the water. It also makes you feel like you’re floating on the water. It’s something that’s hard to believe for yourself until you experience it. You just lay back and you’re floating. Nothing you can do will make you go under involuntarily. Just lay back and enjoy a book……..or lay on your stomach and you’re still floating. I was doing barrel rolls on the surface and not sinking an inch! It’s a very odd feeling to say the least. A bit of advice when you get out, make sure you thoroughly rinse off. If you miss a spot, you’ll see it later as it will be all white with dried salt stuck to you.

My last day in Israel we spent at the dropzone. Who was I to say no??? After all, I was visiting 2 skydivers! Uri spoke to the chief instructor and he let me borrow his Katana 97 for 3 jumps. The scenery there is amazing as the DZ is across the tracks from the beach and right on the Mediterranean Sea. If you have a chance…..make some jumps there. A friendly DZ with 2 Caravans it was a nice place to visit!

I will come back to Israel one day as there is so much more to see. As I said to Uri, it far exceeded my expectations and seemed like it would be an amazing place to live. The way of life there in Tel Aviv was something that I hope to emulate else where once I find a place to land. In the mean time however I’m writing this as I sit on the rooftop of the Seven Hills Hotel in Istanbul, Turkey looking out over the city at the Blue Mosque only a few hundred feet to my right and the ocean a few hundred feet to my left. In a few hours I will be seeing a friend I haven’t seen in about 10 years and we plan on traveling eastern Europe together. With no set itinerary and only a flight out of Prague…..who knows what path we’ll choose…..

The traditional Trans Siberian Railroad extends from St. Petersburg across Siberia, never leaving Russia and ends at Vladivostok almost 7 days later having traveled a countless number of miles. While this is the tradition Tran Siberian experience, I chose another, almost more popular route which went from Beijing into Mongolia with a stop over in Ulaan Bataar, continuing on to Irkutsk, Russia where you stop and see Lake Baikal only an hour and a half away. From there onto Moscow which is a 77 hour journey in and of itself traversing 5 time zones. This route is known as the Trans Mongolian Railroad. While not actually having anything to compare it to, I can say already that I prefer this route as it extends to not just one culture and one landscape, but three cultures and landscapes, three currencies, three ways of life and three very unique lands. It also breaks up the monotony of a 6 ½ day venture, which is how long it would take if you didn’t get off. 

Leaving Beijing early in the afternoon, I boarded the train onto what appeared to be the tourist car, kupe` class. This was second class service with 4 berths in a cabin and a door that opened to the isle way with a toilet at either end of the carriage. Upon entering my cabin, I thought I must have been in the wrong place as there were already 6 people sitting in the 4 person cabin. When the Mongolian family saw me they jumped up and made room. Once the extended family cleared out I was still a bit confused as there were 5 of us still in there. I had an upper bunk and made my home, stowed my bag and got settled. I came to realize that the little girl, who had to be under the age of 5 was sleeping in the same bunk as mom. Of course they didn’t speak a word of English. Having passed several other backpackers boarding the same car, I venture outward to see what new friends I could make. As luck would have it there was a tour group full of Aussies and a few from the UK. They were on the Vodka Train tour, drinking their way across Siberia…..or so the brochures would have you believe. Turns out it was just a random group of people from all over Australia, a few couples and a few friends. I hung out with Beth & Brian from Brisbane, Dan from Perth and Gary from the UK. They seemed like good people and when we swapped itineraries with each other we quickly realized that while we would miss each other from Mongolia to Irkutsk, we would be on the same 77 hour train onward to Moscow. That would start a common theme on and off the train of people seeing over and over again as we all traveled along the same tracks heading in one direction or another, swapping maps, currency and tips on where to go or how to get out of being stopped by the police in Moscow…..never give them your passport, seemed to be a common response, just a photo copy! We would swap #’s and attempt to track each other down further on down the tracks. The Aussies also offered me a sanctuary in their cabin away from the family that while very friendly, didn’t speak a lick of English.

Once out of China and cleared of the Mongolian passport control, there was a bogie change. This is where they separate all cars, and lift up each and every car to change the wheels, aka bogies. China runs on a 5′ wide track while Mongolia and Russia run on a 4′ 8″ wide track. This takes only a few hours to our surprise. While some chose to stay on board and get jolted around like ants in a box as the cars were shifted and lifted, most of us went into the train station and raided the general store there. The three clerks at the front didn’t really have a register, nor a system of how they charged people. Since the lines were huge and the store was packed, they opted to process customers quickly in order to clear the store. A mad rush ensued and as I approached the front of the line, the clerk looked at what I held in my hands…..rolled her eyes around in her head as if she were doing some form of complex math, adding and multiplying and coming up with some sort of number that was not even close to how much it should have been. Shrugging and not even thinking about correcting her, I handed her my left over Yuan and exited the station and back aboard the train. 

The next morning we woke to the Gobi desert outside our window. Other travelers had told me that the Gobi, while over 100 km away from Beijing was approaching at an alarming rate of 2 km per year. Good thing they are hosting the Olympics in 2008 and not any later…..Upon arriving in Ulaan Bataar, I was greeted by the driver for the UB Guest House holding a sign with my name on it. Quite a nice sight I must say after a long trip and while backpacking. I jumped aboard a van that was promptly filled with other travelers and off we went. The Guest House left a bit to be desired, but the people made up for it as did the other travelers there, most of whom were in the midst of the same journey that I also had begun. Only having two days in Ulaan Bataar, I headed out to get some Mongolian money from the nearby ATM. When I left the states I did so with not even $100 USD in my pocket and no travelers checks of any kind. As soon as I got to a new country with a new currency I would head to an ATM and withdraw an amount I thought I needed and went from there. It’s been clockwork, up to now. The first ATM walked me all the way through the transaction then spit my card out. Having only had this happen in China, I found an ATM that was on my card’s network and tried again. Same results. After the sixth, seventh and eighth ATM, I began to grow concerned. How was I going to pay for my accommodations, worse, the train ticket onward to Russia? Not wanting to pay the outrageous fares that the travel agents were attempting to charge me for the 3 train tickets, any where from $1200 – $1800 USD, I opted to buy my tickets when I got there. The first leg was $100, the second was $35 and the third was $330. Much better than the travel agents rates. So I went in search of the International Ticket Counter which was located near, but not at the train depot. I made my arrangements, got the price and went to pay….and of course, they didn’t take any kind of plastic. A worker there realized I had tried ATMs all over town and walked me about 4 blocks to a money exchange place where they allow you to charge your credit card and receive cash. 100,000 please! It was a deal and allowed me to survive for a few days in Mongolia. The lesson learned here is that while I have 3 ATM cards with me and none of them worked, they are all Mastercards. Mongolia was Visa only land. Who knew…..

Heading back to the hostel I met up with a few girls sharing the room and realized quickly that they were part of a larger group about 10 strong…..all Peace Corp volunteers based in and around Mongolia. On the whole there were just over 100 volunteers in the country I learned that night. I had no idea. I found it fitting that the very evening I was out with a group from the Peace Corp in Mongolia, my cousin who met her fiancé in the Peace Corp in Panama was getting married in Texas. How random. The group took me out to one of their favorite bars and drank happily until close…which was a staggering midnight. A large sign on the door at the hostel warned NOT to stay out past midnight as it was not safe. I figured if they took the trouble to post a sign then it was worthy of listening too. 

The next day I ventured out and started noticing the cars. While they drove on the right side of the road, the cars had right side steering wheels. Upon further inspection I realized that I was wrong, they had right AND left side steering wheels. There was no rhyme or reason, but as I stood on the street corner I took notice and counted, it worked out to about 50 / 50. How random I thought, until I mentioned it to a girl at the hostel who told me that Mongolia was a hotspot for stolen cars. They get shipped there from all over Asia and even Europe. It all made sense. Wandering through the Main Square where Dave’s British Pub was located…..owned by a British guy named Dave (who would have thought), I found myself walking into the Grand Khaan Irish Pub. What can I say, I had to check it out. To my surprise they had really good western food. I’ve been splitting my time from the local foods to western foods, avoiding fast food at all costs. So far it’s been working pretty good and allowing me a good balance. 

The train from Mongolia into Russia was a comedy show. Apparently the thing to do was to smuggle in cheaply made goods into Russia and then sell them once you cross the boarder. So much so that about 6 women ran up and down the cars holding arms full of sneakers, button up shirts, bags taped shut full of clothes and whatever else they were trying to smuggle over the boarder. The way they did it was to walk up and down the cars finding the naïve travelers and put these packages and shoes and shirts in their cabins. That way when Russia Customs walks aboard they don’t see a pile of shirts all the same, but one in each compartment and thought nothing of it. While they tried 3 different times to just walk into our compartment, in the end we dropped the stuff in the hallway and slammed the door shut. Watching them running and up and down the different cars was quite humorous I must say. I would also think that attempting to smuggle something into Russia and avoid paying customs is not something that I’d like to try. But nevertheless, it provided entertainment for the evening! 

In the cabin next to mine I befriended 3 Aussies from Perth, all 22 and traveling to Moscow. Turned out we were staying in the same hostel in Irkutsk. We bonded and ended up spending the next 5 or 6 days together. Peter, Chris and Sheryl were all traveling separately but met up in Beijing for this journey to Moscow and then would go their own ways again. What a fun group of Aussies! Of course every time they referenced backpacking right after college, I jumped in and said, “yeah….I did that back in ’97……errrr…..10 years ago.” Making me feel great about my age of course….. Once in Irkutsk we ran out and found the Liverpool Pub. This was a British Pub with a Beatles theme and to our pleasant surprise with live acoustic music, all Beatles songs of course. Walking there our group was 6 strong as we picked up 2 more from the UK staying at the same hostel just traveling in the opposite direction. Singing along and having a great time, we attempted to order food. While they had an English menu, the waitress didn’t speak any. So pointing at the menu didn’t help much. The singer ended up coming over and helping translate. Seeing that he was a pretty good guy after helping us order we started throwing requests out to him. ‘Hey Jude’ we shouted……nothing. Sorry…..don’t know that one…….’OK….how about Imagine?’ …..Sorry, don’t know that one either. Did I mention that he was ONLY playing Beatles songs, and he didn’t know these two songs? Oh well….it was still a fun night and that just added to the experience. The next day we picked up 2 more from the hostel and all 8 of us hopped on a bus and headed and hour and half away to Listvyanka.

Listvyanka is the first main town that you come to when heading to Lake Baikal. Lake Baikal is a fresh water lake and is over 5000 feet deep in spots. If you took all of the 5 Great Lakes and combined the water, you would have less than the water that is in Baikal. Having poor timing with Spring around the corner, we couldn’t drive on the lake any more, nor could we boat across as it was all still ice, just melting ice. We ended up renting an apartment for a night in Listvyanka and walking into town for supplies, dinner and of course, Vodka. We also ventured out onto the ice……we just couldn’t resist. It was fun to run around out there, but it was melting and you could see and hear the cracking. Fun, but not for an extended period of time. Getting back to the apartment we found an old cassette player and tons of tapes with Russian music mixed with Western music. That and the Vodka made for a good, loud and fun filled evening. I’m glad that the apartment was made of solid concrete as if we were in the states, the cops would have shown up at 3 am for sure….but not in Russia!

Once back in Irkutsk I ran around with Sheryl and saw some churches and statues of Lenin. It was a town of a little more then half a million. Later on, as someone else noted in the group, it was also very odd for most of us as the locals were all Caucasians. I thought about it and realized that I had been traveling in China, India, Nepal, Thailand, Bali…..all places where being white was the minority. It’s not something I thought about much, but did realize that I had been the minority for over a month, and as I realized this I remembered thinking back to Agra in India when I ventured out to one of the markets that was out of the way and while walking around for almost and hour I didn’t see another westerner. I remembered how good that felt and thought about that then. As far as this trip goes…..being the minority is gone for the time being, but it was an interesting experience to say the least…..

Now I find myself on the 77 hour, number 9 train to Moscow, the Baikal Express, writing this from the dining car as we scream across Siberia. Of course the Vodka Train crew from Australia are here to keep me company. I’m also coming to the end of a month without seeing anyone I know. It’s been nice but it will be good to see Sergey in Moscow, Uri and Yonatan in Israel, and Lauren in Istanbul. Traveling and seeing old friends as you go is a nice thing indeed. Of course so is traveling solo and being forced to meet new people. After all, I didn’t quit my job, sell my house and put all of my belongings in storage so that I could sit around and do nothing. This trip is about change and experiencing new people and new places. It’s about seeing what this world has to offer, finding out how other people from around the world make a living and see how they live. It’s about exploring and going to places that I’ve always wanted to go to but never had the time or the resources. Now I have both. Of course getting back to the states in June, I’ve committed myself to skydiving for most of the summer hopping back and forth between Boston, Chicago, Atlanta and I’m sure other places along the way. I’m already looking forward to September after our National competition when I am free again and ready to roam. I have a feeling that I might go back and spend some time in South East Asia then New Zealand for a few months. Who knows where I’ll end up or what I’ll end up doing. After all, the fact of the matter is that the pockets are not that deep and traveling for all this time, while being a life changing experience isn’t sustainable and I hate to say it, but I will have to work a bit at some point. The good thing right now is that, that is something I only have to worry about in the future, because right now I’m too busy enjoying how small this planet is and thankful for the fact that I can do what I’m doing. I’m thankful that I have a life and live in a country where I can roam free and explore all the little corners of this planet. And that’s exactly what I intend to do……

Having gotten to Moscow I found my way to the Napoleon Hostel with a friend Emiko from the train. Once I checked in and got settled, in walked Mike from Boston. He is a Merchant Marine that I met in Shanghai…..more proof that it’s a small world. The next day I ran around Red Square, Lenin’s tomb and the Kremlin. Had good timing and caught the changing of the guards with their high kicks and rifle slapping march. Ran down along the river and saw the monstrous Peter the Great statue and cathedrals all over town. That second night I met up with an old friend Sergey who grew up in Moscow. He picked me up and brought me to one of his favorite bars. We parked the car and started down a small ally to find a green, metal, beat up door with no markings or signs other than graffiti. He punched in a combo and opened the door which lead to a small chamber about 12′ x 12′. The inside was covered in paint and designs on the walls, a door at the far wall and again…..no signs other than a biometric scanner to read thumb prints. Sergey placed his thumb on the keypad and after a second or two there was a buzzing sound and the door opened. Down a flight of stairs we went to meet a girl he knew at the bottom. Ducking my head and lifting my feet as if it was a door on a submarine I stepped in and entered the bar. A very eclectic place, the Corkscrew as it was called had to be one of the coolest bars I had ever been in. The theme was base jumping, skydiving and aviation. Tables were made from spent jet turbine covered in glass and seats were out of old airlines and a few ejection seats as well. The walls were covered in pictures from jumps all over Russia. Everything was controlled by a thumb print as it was a members only bar and was actually located in the basement of an old KGB building……I guess in Russia, knowing the right people and making the right payments, you can put a bar just about anywhere! Going to bed early…..around 4:30 am I would highly recommend anyone traveling to Moscow to track down Sergey and experience this for yourself. Oh, and the live band was great there as well!

The last two nights in Moscow were spent couch surfing at Natasha’s place, only 4 metro stops out of town. The last night there she threw a party for couch surfers and friends where I randomly bumped into one of the Aussies from the Vodka Train who is also a couch surfer. I tell ya…..the world keeps getting smaller and smaller every corner I turn. Now I find myself on a flight to Tel Aviv to see more friends. Wait until you hear about the Moscow airport and the security checks….….but I’ll save that for another time….

Catching the next flight I made my way into China, Shanghai. Again, I scaled two of the cities main buildings, Jin Mao, and the Pearl TV Tower. Great sites to be seen from both, but what made the lasting impression was the construction in the new part of Shanghai on the east side of the river. Standing at the base of the Jin Mao tower and just looking around, it was easy to count at least 10 skyscrapers that were under construction and headed upwards at an alarming rate. China, and Shanghai…..might be Communist, but they went and found Capitalism in a hurry! After spending a little time wondering around the Bund area, I grabbed lunch with a co-worker from Analog that I hadn’t met yet in Xintiandia. Dennis told me stories about life in Asia and about how things were over here. It’s quite interesting hearing it from an American who’s been living the life here for some time, and it was good to chat about ‘things at the office’. It brought me back and reminded me that I too once was part of that world. It was also nice because it made me realize that I didn’t miss it one bit. Sure I might miss the friends I had made, but the office and the work was a distant memory and confirmed that I was very happy with my decision to leave things behind and travel for a while. Just around the corner was a landmark revered by the locals. It’s the building where the communist party held their first meeting. Upon arriving there to look at it, there was a bus of Chinese military personnel that had just arrived as well. Smiling and joking with one another, each taking their turn to have their photo taken in front of a landmark of Communism in China. Later I met up with a few couch surfers for dinner at an Arabic restaurant which included a belly dancer every half hour or so. Katie from Ohio and Paul from the UK made the evening pass sharing stories of our travels and future conquests to be had. The next night Paul and some more couch surfers and I went to a show called Era. I likened it to a training camp for Cirque du Soleil. Some very impressive acrobatics going on, but the show lacked what makes Cirque……Cirque. Nevertheless, it was still a show to be seen and allowed us an escape from the bustle of Shanghai.

I boarded the flight to Beijing which was supposed to get in around 2 in the afternoon. Being seated next to an American named Bill and across from a Chinese American school badminton team, we proceeded to sit on the tarmac for almost 3 hours while being delayed. First time I’ve ever been served lunch while still sitting at the gate. Bill was living in Texas and was in the import export business. It’s nice to have someone to chat with who has something interesting to say and also has a similar sense of humor. Upon arriving in Beijing and getting into town, my afternoon of sight seeing was shot and having only the next day to see the sites, I had a choice to make. Would I rather see the things around town that made Beijing the town it was, or should I take a full day’s journey up to the Great Wall of China. Which would I regret more, later having missed. It was an easy choice and off to the Great Wall “The Secret Tour” we went. I can not explain in words how amazing this hike was while being up on the wall for almost 3 hours. You can not come to China and not go to the wall. I was quite happy with my decision. It might have been a 3 hour drive each way, but it was well worth it and something that I won’t soon forget.

Upon getting back to Beijing, I still had enough time to make my way over to the ticket office, pick up my train ticket to Mongolia, see the nightly flag lowering ceremony in Tiananmen Square and meet up with another couch surfer who took me out and would not let me leave just having dinner. A bit tired I went to with her to meet up with some of her friends to the Bed Tapas Bar. Down a random side ally and almost only filled with local foreigners, the Bed Bar was a very mellow bar where you remove your shoes and the seats are pillows around large mattresses with tables in the middle. A relaxing place to end the evening in a cozy corner of Beijing.

The next day I board the first leg of my Trans Siberian, aka, Trans Mongolian Train ride. First stop, Ulan Bataar. Seeing that I had a family of 4 from Mongolia that didn’t speak any English in our 4 berth compartment, I spent most of my time a few doors down with some Aussies and Brits on a tour. Off to Mongolia and more adventures……stay tuned!!!!

India is an interesting place indeed. Men of all ages holding hands in friendship is commonplace, westerners sporting dreads from all over the world are just as common as westerners without dreads. Like Nepal, India seems to be a place where hippies have found a home. It’s also a place where shop owners and beggars alike attempt to get your attention by saying, ‘Excuse me Sir, Hello???’. To not even acknowledge seems to be rude, but that’s what you must do if you want to make it down the street and not get sucked into ever shop you pass. A different approach indeed, but still very much in your face. Traffic as well is like it was in Nepal. However here they use their horn…..liberally. Walking out of the hotel with a splitting headache, the last thing you want to hear is a rickshaw or a motor scooter pull up behind you and lay on the horn….you probably aren’t even in the way….but they nail the horn just to make sure you know they are there…..for a good few seconds as well.

My first night in Delhi I went to the train station attempting to buy a ticket to Agra the next day. Walking into the reservations hall I saw a set of windows with not so much a line in front of each as a mass of people. It was loud and crowded so I decided to stand back and watch how things here worked before entering the gauntlet. In front of each window was a half circle of about 20 Indians. There wasn’t any real rhyme or reason as to who was next….it was more of a ‘king of the mountain’ mentality. If you could wedge your elbow in front of the next guy and hold your ground, you earned that spot. This continued until eventually you made it to the front. Being in a cheerful mood, I was ready for my run. Entering in the back it didn’t seem too bad. As people filtered out from in front of the window I started to get closer, I realized I was pushing on the guy in front of me and the people behind me and to the sides were pushing me as well. Elbows started to get wedged in peoples chests saying ‘Hey pal….I’m next’. Of course none of this was verbal, it was just an elbow, a push and a glance and it was your spot…..for the time being. Finally I reached the window and jammed my face and hands around the opening to speak to this elusive ticket master. I told him that I was going to go to Agra on the first train out and the last train back. The Express please, I wanted to see the Taj Mahal and get back in a days time. The man smiled as I’m sure he saw me work for nearly 20 minutes to reach the top of the mountain. Then he said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t sell tickets to foreigners. You must got to the Tourist Ticket office upstairs from 8 am – 8 pm.” I smiled, said thank you and slithered away from the window and the mob, ticketless. Destined to spend the following day in Delhi as the train I wanted to be on left at 6:15 am. But it wasn’t all bad, I knew just where to go the next day and got my tickets early. 

 

 

The Taj Mahal. On the train out I found myself sitting in a group of tourist. The girl next to me was from Indiana. Turns out she was in a group of about 50 or so that were seeing the sites in Agra for the day just like I was. They were part of the Semester At Sea program, If you aren’t aware, Semester At Sea is just that. It costs about as much as a year of college for one semester, but you pile onto a cruise ship, literally go around the world stopping just about every major port along the way. Classes are held for a total of 24 days but most colleges give full credit for it as it’s the life experiences gained that are the most valuable. Having 4 friends that have done this journey over the past several years, it was safe to say that I was quite envious of these guys and gals and wished I had done it back when I was in school. Woulda, coulda, shoulda…….Oh well. Entering the west gate of the Taj Mahal I bumped into the Semester at Sea group again and befriended a handful of them. We ran around the grounds…..I heard stories from where they have been and where they were going. It seemed like they were having fun and seeing the Taj Mahal is something I’m glad that I did. To be honest I was expecting a little more, but it was still very impressive. I can see why it is the magnate that it is.

On the train back that evening I sat next to a brother and sister from Belmont, MA. Small world. We decided to grab dinner when we got back to Delhi in Connaught Circus which can be a haven within Delhi if you know where to go. During my journey out that day it was hot. In the 90’s I’d say. I was wearing shorts, a T-shirt and my Croc sandals. I must have been asked 3 times by people in Delhi and Agra if I wanted a shoe shine. You just had to laugh. While heading to Connaught Circus the three of us were in an auto-rickshaw. Every single one of these things was banged up and they were all over the place. We witnessed one of the 5 hits between an auto-rickshaw and another that I saw during my stay. Usually just a bump….the two drivers yell, or not even…they just back up and keep moving. I couldn’t even imagine renting a car here, it would have dings all over it after a weeks time.

I woke up around 8 one morning with a ticket to Goa at noon. Goa is a beach town down on the coast….popular with the Israelis, it’s got a pretty big party scene, but also relaxing beaches just to get away for a few days. I dialed 9 on my hotel phone and asked for the hot water to be turned on (a daily event), hoped in the shower and started to get ready. But something wasn’t right. I needed to lay down…….I felt funny. Slowly I started to feel the sweats come on over my entire body……then, as Henry Rollin’s once described it, I heard the voice. It had been a while since I heard the voice. ‘Hello Brian’……”Voice….is that you?” ‘It is Brian, do you know why I’m here?’ “No voice….it’s been a long time….what do you want?” ‘I’m here Brian to tell you that you have about 10 seconds to rise from your bed, get to the bathroom, prop the lid of the toilet open, get on your knees and prepare yourself.’ Oh no…..I remember the voice now. And it was right. It only comes in those last few moments when doubt goes away and you have to make that mad dash, fall to your knees and pray to the porcelain god. The rest of this day was spent repeating this process about 4 times. The flight to Goa, along with checking out of the hotel, were a distant memory as I curled up in my hotel room for about 2 days attempting to feel human after what appeared to be food poisoning. Not an experience I wish to repeat. 

 

 

After recovering for a few days I made my way over to Connaught Place where all of the airline offices are as well as the travel agents. I sorted out my flights and then went to the middle of the circle in Connaught which is essentially a very large round-about. It was a park, a refuge from the madness around. I laid on the grass in the shade and read my book. It might not have been on the beaches of Goa, but it was a nice way to spend the afternoon. A good note to leave Delhi on.

When it was close to dinner time I cracked open my trusty Lonely Planet and searched for a good place to grab some grub. Making a mental note of a few good picks, I headed out and made my way through traffic. K-Too’s it was called. Supposed to be one of the best steak houses in town. We shall see about that. I found K-Too’s but all of the lights were off. Must have been an off night….it was 7:15 or so and the streets were flooded with people, it should have been open. Not to be discouraged I found the second choice on my list. Closed. Finally I just wandered around and looked for people eating. I ended up at a Mexican joint on the third floor. Ordered a couple of chicken enchiladas as a well traveled fellow from New Zealand sat next to me and well over an hour later we got our meals. You might be wondering why every where was closed and my meal took so long. I should also mention that as I was walking around there were large groups of Maoists walking through the streets waving their red flag and making a bunch of noise in some sort of protest. I also noticed that upon leaving the airport, then entranced was surrounded by barbwire and sandbags accompanied by fully armed guards keeping watch. In addition to that there was a heavy police presence around town with vans full of military or police, some wearing riot gear. Even with all of this heavy show of force, everything that I saw was relatively peaceful. But why was everything closing. Turns out that there was a protest by a lot of the hotel and business workers in the form of a strike yesterday because a prominent business owner was kidnapped and being extorted for money by the Maoists. Not to be outdone, the Maoists had to flex their muscles and show their force, claiming that they didn’t have anything to do with the kidnapping. However when this happens…..business don’t want to take a risk and figure that business is better for them if they close……or just employees don’t show up at work thus leaving the kitchen understaffed and a couple of enchiladas taking over an hour to cook. When I finally left the Mexican place about 9:15, I got to the bottom of the stairs to find a metal gate locking me in. The guard on the other side saw me approaching, unlocked the gate and let me pass spilling out into the street. Only the street didn’t seem like the right street, everything was different. This experience felt like I got off the wrong floor on an elevator. Everything looked similar, but ALL the store fronts had somehow transformed over dinner into metal garage doors with 3 or more locks keeping them secure. I asked someone I passed on the street, which was a challenge because the streets that were packed mere hours earlier were now almost a ghost town. Curfew……it was in effect and everyone had to get indoors, and early too…..the Maoists were out and about. 

 

 

Nepali politics are at an interesting place. The once upon a time King was over thrown, but he still has his seat. The catch is this. Rule of the country has gone over to the “government” (i.e. multiple parties that aren’t in agreement on much except that they don’t want a king any more) and the King was striped of his power, budget and most of his land. So now he’s still there with not much more than his title and his face on the money….for now. This is the complete antithesis of Thailand where you can find pictures of their king on just about any and every corner, taxi cab, restaurant, you name it….they LOVE their King. The same can not be said in Nepal. Things are a bit different here. They wanted to make sure that people didn’t confuse them with their neighbor India, so they made the time zones different. You may know that the time zone in India is 30 minutes off the rest of the world. Well Nepal is 15 minutes off from that. An odd experience when resetting your watch at the airport….I heard many times over ‘WHAT time is it???’ 

 

 

After spending a few days traveling around and walking the streets, it’s safe to say that I have never in my life been asked if I wanted ‘smoke’, ‘hash’, ‘pot’, etc….over and over again so many times in such a short period. I would have to say I’m approaching the 50+ mark and I’ve only been here 3 days.

I went to Pashupatinath yesterday. This is the holy temple where they cremate those who pass on. While non-Hindu’s are not allowed inside the temple, we are allowed to watch the cremation process. When an elderly family member dies, the task is bestowed upon the son or younger family member who knows how to cremate a body to do so. There are 7 funeral pyres that sit next to a river that runs along side the temple. These pyres, if that is the correct word for it, are large, flat stone platforms about 12 feet by 12 feet. Wood is stacked up and the bodies are place on the wood and then surrounded by more wood. All of this mind you is going on in the wide open with kids playing and teenage girls flirting with teenage boy on the other side of the river. Even the occasional tourist from the far side will stop with their guide, stand on the steps with their backs to people being cremated and get their photo taken. I can not see what anyone would do with this photo, but to my surprise it’s not frowned upon, at least not openly. Regardless…..I chose not to take pictures of this. I did photograph the site, but no one being cremated. The process is an interesting one as it takes about 3 hours to burn a body, the entire time being tended to by a family member. When all that remains are ashes, they are pushed into the river below which leads to India and a holy place. A very interesting experience indeed. Something else that added to the area were all of the monkeys running around. A bit out of place…..but it did at a certain element to the atmosphere. That and the occasional UN chopper passing over head. That is something that truly gives you pause and forces you to ask yourself……where am I again?

After this I ventured over to the big boudha. It’s pretty much just that…..a very very large bouda. I could even see it from the plane when we were taking off. You are allowed to walk up on it almost to the top. While there I saw my old motorcycle….that I thought had long ago been discontinued. Maybe in the US…but not here…..