The Train in Spain is Mainly a Pain

(Spain Day 1) See what I did there? Enough with the My Fair Lady references...we are in the land of Carmen! Fun fact: The plot of the opera came from Seville, where a Christian soldier was dating the most beautiful girl in town (Carmen) who dumped him for a bullfighter (way more badass, I'd do the same thing). He went crazy and killed her and her family, felt bad, and killed himself. Typical man...so dramatic. Holding a boom box above his head would have conveyed the same emotion. If you want to get acquainted with the story, Beyonce made a hip-hopera for your viewing pleasure. Youtube it..

I flew from Cairo to Madrid, almost dying of dehydration on the plane (did you know the air in the cabin has less water in its oxygen than the desert? I love the sips of water they ration you every two hours because you can't bring liquids on the plane, like that's going to do anything in this environment...) get to Madrid, still not sure if want to stay or go to the south. After a lengthy conversation with a Spanish couple on the plane, I decide to go to Seville, but need to get to the train station. (Seville, the home of a certain Barber, if you're familiar).

I take a bus from airport and make my way to the ticket counter to buy a Eurail pass. I priced it out and I will end up saving quite a lot by having this pass. I can buy it for only the countries I need, so it costs less than a global pass, and will be much cheaper than buying individual tickets.

I wait in the ticket line only to be told I can't buy a Eurail pass at this train station. I have to take the metro to another station. I manage to navigate this, then decide to take the last train to Sevilla at 21:30. Have been up since 5 am. Get to Seville at 12:05. Haven't booked anything so I head to the first place in my guidebook (side note: Lonely Planet is not the best book for the budget traveler. Their hostel suggestions are lacking--just a general observation. Let's Go is much better, but they don't have as many books).

The taxi driver doesn't know where it is so he drops me in a downtown square saying it's close and points vaguely in one direction--I think he just wanted to get rid of me. Thanks for being concerned about my safety! I wander around for a bit and am not having any luck. I'm going to have to take up residence under a bridge! Finally, I ask some people I overhear speaking English, who take me through dark alleys to an unmarked door I would never have found on my own. Success! Just kidding. I get inside and they're booked. Crap. But he calls their other property and find me a bed there, so I haul my stuff ten mins down the street to the Oasis Palace. Cheesy name but at 1:30 am I just want a flat space to pass out on. Exhausted after a 20 hr travel day, I've made it; I'm in Europe!

The Taj in 24 Hours

Travel day: Jodhpur to Agra. We took a 12 HR train ride today so we could get to Agra at night, stay over, and be up to see the Taj at sunrise the next day. We literally sat there for the entire day, so not much to write about. When we got out of the train station, many drivers came up asking if we needed a ride (as usual) and one guy was particularly friendly, so James agreed to go with him. I try to stay out of these decisions since I think it'd compromise james' ability to bargain down the price. We asked how much, and the driver said "no problem. I take you first, then you pay as you like." Big mistake. He was super friendly, and told us about all these hotels he knew for a good price, but we knew they do this and have commission deals with the places they mention, so we told him had a reservation at the first place on our list and went there to check out a room. India 101: never book ahead until you've seen a room. There are no assumptions here, including standards of cleanliness.

Turns out the place we wanted was full, and we didn't really know many other places, so we agreed to go look at this place the driver suggested. James went inside to look, and I stayed in the car with the luggage and driver. It was fine for a while, but James was gone for a long time and the driver started getting creepy, telling me about his workout plan and flexing his muscles. Thankfully, James came back shortly after to say the room was fine-we were only here for one night- and I took my bags inside. The driver had been trying to convince us to hire him for the day tomorrow to take us to all the major sights, but we knew his price was obscenely expensive so I let James decline for the both of us. I headed inside at a good moment apparently, because the driver got extremely upset. It didn't help that James paid him 100 rupees for the ride from the station. Sorry buddy, but if you didn't quote a price ahead of time and say "as you like", sometimes you're gonna get tourists who actually know what things cost. Can't scam us, we've been in India too long!

James came inside and relayed this development to me, just as the driver walked in behind him, past the check in counter, and into the hotel restaurant, where he also works. SHIT. we spent half the night terrified our food was poisoned, and the other half waiting to hear the lock on the door turn. I definitely checked to make sure my limbs were still intact the next morning. Lesson learned: be very wary of drivers that seem too nice, because they probably are.

We woke up at 5:30 am to make it to the Taj Mahal for 6 am, when it opens for the day. 750 rupees for entrance is highway robbery, but I guess that's what a Wonder of the World costs nowadays. After dodging the annoyingly persistent guides trying to get our business, we headed to the entrance. Since this was the main attraction and the whole reason we came to Agra, we had packed snacks so we could stay for most of the day. Of course food isn't allowed, and there's no signs to indicate this. Thatd be too efficient. There were storage lockers a 5 minute walk away, and I was not about to waste perfectly good granola bars. I peeled a banana on the way over, only to come face to face with a particularly aggressive looking monkey who was staring me down. I attempted to deak him out, but he bared his teeth and growled, so i hurled said banana in the opposite direction and booked it. I arrived at the storage room only to find out it costs money. Of course. Out of principle, I refused to pay, and ate my granola bars sullenly as I made my way back to the entrance. Bureaucracy...

We finally got into the grounds and began walking when I caught my first glimpse of the domed roof sparkling in the distance. I'm rarely awestruck, but the Taj has to be up there with one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. It's so perfect, it doesn't look real. It looks cartoon-I felt like I had stepped into the world of Aladdin or something.

For those of you that don't know, the story goes something like this: after the Shah Jahan's wife Mehmtez Mahal died giving birth to their 14th child, he was heartbroken. He built the Taj Mahal as a memorial to her. It took twenty thousand workers over 33 years to build the structure. When his son grew up he overthrew the father and imprisoned him in Agra Fort across the river, where the Shah was forced to look at his creation every day until he died there.

After we exhausted our photographic options at the Taj, we got tired of the touristy atmosphere (if it was this crowded at sunrise, I shudder to think of what it must be like during peak hours), so we decided to check out the Agra Fort. My dashing good looks awarded me free admission for being 14 and under, so we wandered around there for a bit, but it wasn't very impressive, especially having seen the fort in Jodhpur and the Taj itself.

We saw signs for a golf course so we decided to check it out. How cool would it be to play 9 with the Taj in the background? Unfortunately, Indian logic proved too much for us to handle, and we decided a thousand rupees plus a mandatory caddie, and no left-handed clubs (I'm difficult, I know) was not worth it.

We pretty much exhausted our options for activities in Agra at that point--it really hasn't got much to offer other than the Taj, so I'm really glad we only spent one day there. I got some postcards and we hung out at a coffee shop, writing while it rained outside. We had dinner at Pizza Hut before catching our first overnight train to Varanasi, where we're spending the last three days before flying to Nepal.

Dirty Delhi and Train Travel

In India, two important things to know: 1) people will always try to rip you off, and 2) the hotel never looks like the pictures. We arrived at the airport in Delhi just before midnight. Our hotel was the only one we actually booked ahead of time, since we did not want to be going from place to place looking at rooms in the middle of the night. After we failed to connect with the hotel pick-up that was supposedly sent for us, we opted for a pre-paid taxi. My travels have shown me so far that these are generally more expensive than negotiating with a driver, but only if you know the proper value for the ride you're taking. We were quoted anywhere from Rs 250 to 400 for the exact same ride, so we were immediately suspicious of negotiating this when we didn't know how far away the hotel was from the airport.

We arrive at the hotel we booked and it is in a seedy area of Delhi that I would not want to be in during the day, much less at night. The room was dingy and the bathroom smelled like mothballs, but we were only there for about 6 hours--we had an early train to catch the next morning.

Train travel in India is a unique experience. I'm not sure if it was the lack of signs anywhere, the throngs of people sleeping on the platform, or the wafting aroma of excrement coming up from the tracks because, oh yeah, the train toilets are just holes in the floor of the car. So whenever people use one, it comes out on the tracks. Lovely. This attracts rats, which are scurrying everywhere. We had help buying our tickets from a man I was working with at the charity in Shantimalai, and thank goodness, because there is no such thing as a line in India, as I may have mentioned before. We had to find our coach number and then our bunks inside, which, in a rare shining moment, actually turned out to be nicer than I expected. The train station probably set my expectations so extremely low, they could only be exceeded.

My sleeper bunk on the train

6 hours later and we arrived in Jaipur, also known as the Pink City. I had read about this place called Krishna Palace on wikitravel, so we decided to give it a shot. They offered free pick-up from the train station, so we were already off to a good start. We arrive and it is quite literally an old palace that has been converted into a hotel. They showed us a room, which was pricier than the website said, but then offered us a cheaper room on the roof--it was the only one up there, so it was very quiet. Lots of stairs, but I could definitely use the exercise. I'm so happy we took it. This place turned out to be the best hotel we've stayed in. Large rooms, AC, marble everywhere, wifi that actually works in the room (most places tell you they have it, but it only works in certain areas like the lobby, which makes skype kind of awkward). The staff was friendly and helpful, arranging the rest of our train tickets and hiring a car for half a day to show us some of the sights in Jaipur.

At the Amber Fort The afternoon we arrived, we went to see the lake palace and the Amber Fort, which is on the outskirts of town.We were too late to go inside but walked up as it's on a hill and looked around. Great views of the city from here. It looked like whoever built this fort tried to also build India's response to the Great Wall of China. That's all we had time for before it got dark, so we headed back to get some rest. Jaipur may be the Pink City, but it's not the most exciting city on the planet.

See? Great Wall of India!

Lake Palace in Jaipur

Seasickness and Port Blair

Andaman Day 5: Tues Aug. 16.Today we checked out of Emerald Gecko and took the 9 am ferry back to Port Blair, where I discovered I have an innate ability for violent seasickness--it was not a fun ride. We were the only white people on the boat both times, which is a really strange feeling. I had gotten used to strange looks from people in Tiruvanammulai, where I was for the past few weeks before this, but in other cities, it takes some getting used to again. People will just sit across from you and stare at you. They don't say anything, they just stare. Or, if you're an army officer at the gate, you tell me I have a nice face. Thanks...as opposed to what, exactly?

We hadn't booked a hotel in Port Blair yet, so we took a pre-paid rickshaw to one of the properties suggested in my guide book to check out the rooms. Our driver tells us of his affinity for WWE and the Undertaker. Reminded me of that scene in Eurotrip where they end up in eastern Europe and they have just gotten Miami Vice on tv...a little behind the times. Wrestling is so 1999...I think. Or never. Shocking fact, I'm not a big fan. Naturally, he takes us to the wrong resort, but we decide to check it out anyways. The bedroom was seedy yet livable for one night, but the bathroom looked like they pulled it straight out of the swamp. Much like dating, this is an absolute DEALBREAKER.

Moving on, we checked out a place we passed on the way to the first one, Sinclairs Bayview, and it was much better, albeit more expensive. James bargained down to Rs 2100 from 3500, so we took it. We just wanted to be comfortable before our long travels the next day, and this place had airport transfer, internet (although that's debatable with the connection speed, it was like dial-up all over again...on second thought, maybe they ARE stuck in 1999...Michael J. Fox, where are you!), and free breakfast.

After getting our bags, the rickshaw driver tried to get us to pay him extra because it took about an hour for this whole process--but isn't the whole point of a pre-paid taxi that you don't have to pay at the end? It's not our fault he took us to the wrong place first, and if there was an extra charge for waiting, they should have told us at the stand where we paid. I felt bad for him, but it's kind of not our problem--we can't just give him money because he feels like he deserves more, not with pre-paid.

We walked around Port Blair in the afternoon, and went to the aquarium, which was very basic, but for Rs. 5 it was a good detour. I learned to identify many of the species we saw snorkeling, which was great.

After giving up on the tragically slow internet available only in the lobby of the hotel, I headed back to the room to watch a mixture of Bollywood classics and brutal B movies that are for some reason extremely popular in India--Anaconda 2: Trail Of Blood may be the worst film I've seen, yet somehow it made it all the way over here and I'm still not famous. Maybe I need to rethink my career path.

We finally settled on The Alamo (great movie by the way), and in the process of getting ready for bed, I discovered something moving in my backpack. I froze apprehensively, waiting for this thing to reveal itself. Get ready for it, a COCKROACH was in there. I screamed and James went to work dismantling my luggage, pulling out one bra after another, looking increasingly uncomfortable, until he found the critter and captured him with a teacup. MacGyvered. And this is supposed to be one of the nicest hotels in Port Blair. I guess that's the trade-off: you either get isolated beach paradise but sketchy accommodation at best (like what we found here), or you get bathed in the lap of luxury, but you have to bribe fish to come near you (in the Caribbean). Luckily we were only there for one night before a long day of travel.

Almost Thailand

Travel DayAndaman Day 1: Friday August 12th

I left my home in Shantimalai today to embark on a three-week whirlwind trip through India and Nepal with my friend James. Hailing from New Jersey, James is one of my oldest friends. Ever since he saw me frolicking naked in his meadow in Switzerland at the tender age of three, and I laid eyes on that glorious mushroom haircut, we knew this was the start of something special. Twenty years later and we're still on speaking terms, which is impressive. For the next few weeks, we will be traveling together--it'll be interesting to see what having a big brother feels like. I'm annoyed already.
James is doing the hippy chic look now, because he knows he can't get away with it in law school

James and I took a taxi at 3 am in order to arrive at the airport in time for our 10 o'clock flight. Indian airport security is a peculiar thing that seems to defy logic.

For example: I was allowed to bring a 2L bottle of water through without so much as a second glance, but I couldn't put my bag on the security belt without the luggage tag I was supposed to be given at check-in (which was never filled out...so they needed a blank luggage tag. Okay...) Then, when I was boarding the plane, they required these tags to have a stamp (that said something completely illegible, to be given at the same security checkpoint that required the tags...the same checkpoint that DIDN'T stamp my tags). Back through the airport I went for the second time. It just makes no sense.

Then the actual boarding of the plane is another feat in itself. They open 2 entrances at the front and rear of the plane, but don't specify who can get on where. This creates the mother of all traffic jams, because instead of sorting this out on the tarmac where there is room for planes to turn around, it now needs to be resolved in the alley between the seats, which is tough for ME to get through, let alone an Indian lady and her entire family. Of course, most Indians don't understand the concept of waiting in line, and will blatantly walk out and around to the front, completely ignorant of the other 200 passengers waiting to board. But they all do this to each other, so it's a backward system that works for them. For us Westerners, it's agonizing to watch. I definitely stuck out a leg a few times to secure my spot in line, and elbowed my fair share of grandmas out of my way, but it's a dog eat dog world: They know just how small and cute they are, and how stupidly polite Canadians are, and sneak in front, plastering an innocent smile on their face, daring you to do something about it. It's more about the principle, and it's infuriating!

The flight's not so bad; the airport in Port Blair is tiny, and is given to the Indian airforce after 3 pm, which explains all the early flights. We were on a tight schedule--our flight was supposed to land at 12:05, and the last ferry to Havelock Island (where we were staying) was at 2 pm, on the other side of Port Blair. After some difficulty in locating the ticket office, we were on the ferry, en route to Havelock. After about two hours of refrigeration in the ship's air-conditioned belly, we made it. We bargained our way to a taxi that would take us to the Emerald Gecko Resort, where we were staying for the next few nights.

The term "Resort" should be used loosely on Havelock Island--make no mistake, this isn't the all-inclusive Caribbean escape you had on Spring Break. A bamboo cabin not more than 20 feet from the ocean was ours for Rs. 625 a night...about 12 dollars total. It came with an open-air bathroom, which included a parade of various creatures making an appearance on the regular--turning the light on before you go in the middle of the night is CRUCIAL. Being a bamboo cabin (allegedly built using rafts that floated ashore from Myanmar, but I remain skeptical about this), it is not exactly air-tight. The bed has a mosquito net surrounding it, which is fun--it really feels like we're camping, tropical style.

Our cabin by the ocean

After a delicious meal of Butter Chicken and paratha from Blackbeard's Bistro, the restaurant at the resort, we were absolutely exhausted and went to bed by 8 pm. Fantastic schedule. I'm practicing for retirement. I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself..I should probably work on getting a job first. But that's neither here nor there. Day 1 in the books!