Taj Mahal - Agra, Uttar Pradesh

Jen, Monique and myself boarded a train today to go to Agra to visit the Taj Mahal. Agra's juxtaposition between grandiose beauty and contamination is undeniable. The city itself is nothing more than a series of confusing filthy streets lined with souvenir vendors trying to part you with your money. Just getting out of the train station is an exercise in patience. Once off the train hordes of rickshaw-wallahs attack you with the offers of a ride. For most visitors this is their second stop in India and can be quite overwhelming. Even for the hardened traveler it can be a test.

Other than the Taj Mahal, Agra is most famous for its scams. In the early nineties a scam emerged of tremendous greed and depravity. Certain restaurants in Agra would purposefully poison tourists food, who then would be treated by doctors in private clinics at unnecessary cost to the insurance companies. Although there have been no reported deaths, many fell ill to this heinous scam before the insurance companies got wise and prosecuted those responsible. Another popular scam, so I hear, is for someone to throw shit on your shoes and run away. Standing there in anger, a shoe cleaner will just happen to come by and offer to clean your shoes, at an exorbitant price of course.

The city is just something you tolerate to get to the Taj Mahal. Once you pass through the main gates and are standing in front of the Taj Mahal, all is lost in the sheer beauty and magnitude of the monument.

Even though we arrived at 6:15AM to avoid the crowds, there was easily a couple hundred people there by time they opened the gates at 7:00AM. Although it was a little foggy that morning, it did not dull my amazement of the monument. After a few photos of the Taj from the outside we decided to go in to give the fog a chance to burn off. When we came back out fifteen minutes later, the fog had enveloped the Taj Mahal and one could barely see one of the minarets a mere forty feet away. Standing from the viewing platform, it seemed as though the fog had devoured the Taj with not a trace to be seen.

The girls became cold and didn't want to wait for the fog to dissipate, so they left. Thinking my resolve was much stronger and not wanting to pay the 750 rupees to get in again (by far the most expensive site in India), I decided to wait it out. At the hour mark I too was cold and finally left with fog still blanketing the monument. Later, as we sat in a coffee house killing time till our train left, the fog had completely vanished, clouds parted and the sun came out. Suddenly it was the perfect day we were hoping for. Since the coffee house was right next to the east gate of the Taj and with two hours till our train left, I decided to try my luck at getting back in. With my ever so charming self and slightly saddened blue eyes, I pleaded my case to get back in. Either the guard bought it or tired of me, either way I was back in.


In the sunlight the Taj was even more amazing, as were the crowds now. This is definitely something to be seen in person. One poet described it as "the teardrop on the cheek of eternity." I have no idea what that means, but ya, what he said! The bad news is that pollution is becoming an enormous problem in Agra and is deteriorating the marble. There is even a pollution ticker in the Taj that has the pollution content scrolling across continually. Unfortunately, the politicians are notoriously corrupt in Agra and it doesn't seem like much is being done. A much too frequent story.

Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal to enshrine the body of his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, after she died giving birth to their fourteenth child. The emperor was devastated upon her death and set out to create a monument in her memory unsurpassed by any other. Eventually Shan Jahan's son grew thirsty for the throne and imprisoned his father at Agra Fort just down the Yamuna River. As lore has it, Shah Jahan lived out the rest of his life gazing wistfully at the Taj Mahal. Upon his death he was carried down the river and placed next to his beloved in his unrivaled tomb.

"The sight of this mansion creates sorrowing sighs;
And the sun and the moon shed tears from their eyes."
Shah Jahan

Click here for more pictures of the Taj Mahal

Who's Onion?!?

One day not so long ago, Jen, Matt and myself were standing on the corner of a very busy intersection. As we stood there, trying to decide how to get to get to our destination, a very weathered man rode up on his equally dilapidated bicycle and said to Jen, "Hey Onion! One smoke?"

As we stood there slightly off guard unsure if that is what he actually said, Jen finally responded,"I don't smoke." And off he rode.

As we stared at each other stunned for a moment, Matt asked, "Did he just call you Onion?" Confirming that we all heard "Onion" we shrugged our shoulders and moved on.

I'm beginning to realize that India is a series of close calls with a healthy dose of random.

"Chaos is my friend."

Bob Dylan

So.... Cold..... - Delhi, National Capital Territory

After three weeks back home in Canada I wasn't sure if I was to continue my travels in India. Not wanting to stay in Vancouver (homeless and jobless) or go back to India, I boarded the first in yet another string of flights. I have now been on fifteen flights in three months. I think I may walk home in June. On the way home to Canada and back to India, I had a day layover in Bangkok which was a nice way to break up the traveling. The food is so good in Bangkok!

It was great to see my three chums again. I truly missed them while I was away. What I hadn't anticipated was how cold the north was this time of year. It was five degrees when I landed in Delhi. That doesn't sound that cold, but when there is no heat in any of the buildings, it is like you are sleeping outside. I went to bed fully clothed with two blankets and a toque. The winter has been unseasonably cold this year and has even taken the lives of five hundred people thus far. It is a common sight to see people huddled around a fire on the side of the street trying to stay warm.

Delhi is everything you would expect from a big Indian city, crowded, annoying, fascinating, and exhilarating. At first all of Delhis quirks annoyed me and I though to myself, why would I come back here? But was surprised as to how quickly I acclimatized to life in India and even enjoyed it.

Even after three months of traveling in India, it never fails to surprise me. As I was sitting outside a book store having a glass of chai watching street life transpire, an elephant strolled by, down the narrow roadway. There was no parade, celebration or puja (prayer) as in previous sightings, just some dude riding an elephant. I quickly snapped a photo of the elephant thinking I'd never see something like that again, only to have another elephant go by five minutes later. Must have been a race.

With only a couple of days in Delhi, I decide to do some sight seeing and headed off to Humayun's Tomb. It is Delhi's first mausoleum, considered one of the prototypes to the Taj Mahal, and houses the second Mughal emperor Humayun and his family (150 in total). Constructed out of red sandstone, it adopts Aphgan, Hindu and Persian architecture. The mausoleum was commissioned by Humayun's widow nine years after his death and took eleven more to complete. Wanting the mausoleum to be one of a kind, Humayan's widow had the architect executed as not to have his design duplicated. I don't think that was the bonus he was expecting.

During the Partition of India it housed Muslim refugees on their way to Pakistan. The extent of the damage done by the refugees was severe and restoration continues to this day. Evidence of this can be seen on the ceiling and entrance of one of the mosques. The ceiling is charred and black from the fires used for cooking and much of the inlay work is also missing or damaged. Many of India's monuments are unfortunately in a constant state of disrepair.

"If you are cold, tea will warm you; if you are too heated, it will cool..."
William E. Gladstone

Click here for more pictures of Delhi.

Please, No More Jewelley - Goa

After my plagued time in Badami, I was more than happy to move on to let my bones knit while relaxing on a beach in Goa. Goa is the Haight-Ashbury of India. With its full moon parties and lax policing it was the place to be if you where a hippie. Many stayed on for years and years in a perpetual haze. Goa is world famous for its beaches, ocean and churches.

With a fist full of Imodium in my belly I was ready for the 12 hour bus ride to Panaji, the state capital. Being a Portuguese colony, Panaji is a wonderful mix of Portuguese architecture, big city amenities and beef. It was great to be able to eat that tasty animal again, which is so sacred in the rest of India. How much chicken can one man eat? After a much too short stay in Panaji I was off to reunite with Jen and Monique in Anjuna.

What at first seemed like a nice beach town quickly turned aggravating. Anjuna is a town overrun with abominable restaurants, relentless touts, tourists, and crowded beaches. Our first time to the beach we were approached by two women selling their wears. After ten minutes of telling them to leave us they finally agreed and sat down beside us. Ugh! With another five minutes of firm declarations of of not wanting to buy anything, they very, very gradually left. This encounter left us quite annoyed, so Jen and I decided to go for a swim to cool off. While enjoying the water I happened to notice that Monique was surrounded by three more women pushing their jewellery on her. I decided to get out of the water to help her out. Once I reached Monique I found that the women had put jewellery on her wrists and ankles and were telling her how beautiful she looked. With all patience exhausted I yelled at them to leave. Having had enough relaxation for one day, we too left.

With two scooters and a little patience we were able to find the relatively quiet beach of Mandrem. The tourists were still there but the number of touts had dropped exponentially. We booked some lovely huts close to the beach and were ecstatic to find a good restaurant just steps away run by a Nepalese family. They were definitely the highlight of Goa. I played frisbee with the cook everyday, who could rival any ultimate frisbee player I've seen, and we all befriended Camron, a nicer guy you could not meet. I hope to reunite with him once I make my way to Nepal. We finally had a nice place to relax.

Just when I was starting to warm up to Goa (pardon the pun), I had to leave to tend to some family business back home. Five flights and three and a half days I'll be back in Canada. From +30 degrees to -30 degrees, Paula better be at the airport with a jacket for me.

Good bye India, hello Gyoza King!

“A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.”

That Wasn't Supposed to Happen - Badami, Karnataka

After spending ten days in Hampi I thought it time to move on to Badami to explore the 5th century sandstone-cut temples. As I was the only one ready to leave, I was to go it alone for the first time, and was excited for the adventure. I left early one morning preparing my self for the eight hour bus ride.

During the first half hour I met a lovely Hindu man that held my hand the entire time we talked (that is common place here and is even a compliment, I swear). 20 minutes into conversing with him he started to introduce me to everyone he new on the bus, which was quite a few people. It was a great way to start my new journey.

Unfortunately, that is where the good times ended. Half way to my destination we had a rest stop and upon returning to my bus I noticed that my large back pack had been stolen. With eyes darting and heart racing I soon realized that I had boarded the wrong bus. As I tried to avoid a small child while exiting the bus, my foot slipped and I fell smashing my knee and falling into a puddle of disgusting sludge. As everyone stared at me I quickly got up and boarded the correct bus that still had my backpack on it. Dousing my ravaged knee with antiseptic and changing my shirt in front of twenty Indian people staring at me, my earlier jovial mood quickly faded.

With my knee completely seized up, the next three days in Badami were spent in bed wondering if I fractured my knee and what to do next. The closest "good" hospital was eight hours from where I came and my friends where just as far so I waited till my knee started to feel better. By day four it was at 80% and figured that there was no fracture. Dreadfully, however, that was the day I became ill and instead of the bed being my best friend, the toilet was. Thank God it was a western toilet. At day five I couldn't be in my room anymore. With hobbled walk and clenched buttocks I finally ventured out to see Badami's carved-out temples.

Badami was the center of the ancient Chalukyan society in India and has some of the best Dravidian architecture around. There are four temples carved into a red sandstone cliff nestled beside the town, all dedicated to different deities; Shiva, Vishnu, Buddhism, and Jainism. This shows the religious tolerance of the rulers of the time (something that rarely happened). The four temples are modest in size with elaborate and detailed cravings throughout. Each temple is perched higher then the previous with the final temple having an amazing view of the Agasthya Lake and the town below.

It was good to get out again and just stare into the past. Although my tranquility never lasted as class after class of school children would advance on me at first sight with a barrage of barely intelligible questions. After the fifth class I grew weary of children and began to hide in the temples. Shiva and I became tight.

One of the scarier moments in this dusty little one cow town was in the bar of the hotel. One night someone spotted a King Cobra in the middle of the room. Once caught, they were more than happy to retrieve the very large snake from the gunny sack and antagonize it so I could see it with hood fully retracted. Not a request I made, but one they insisted on. I think they like to make us tourists squirm. It worked.

Click here for more pictures of Badami

Up, Up, Up - Hampi, Karnataka

Hampi is the capital of the former Vijayanagara Empire that reigned from 1336 to 1565 and is an UNESCO world heritage site. Peppered through out this colossal site of hills and valleys (26 sq km) are over 500 monuments including; temples, elephant stables, ancient market streets, royal residences, bastions and so much more. This town definitely needs three or more days to explore fully. There are so many sites congested in this area that you actually get a feel for what life was like 500-700 years ago in India.


The landscape is like nothing I've seen. Every size boulder imaginable is stacked on top of each other like blocks into countless hills. The rocks slow gradient of color from beige to orange to red throughout the day is stunning. It is hard to imagine how nature has eroded the landscape the way it has.

As amazing as Hampi is for historic sites and beauty, it is just as amazing for the bouldering, which I am now a huge fan of. At first I thought bouldering was primarily a sport of strength. Was I wrong, it is so much more. Strength, determination, problem solving, and flexibility are needed to excel in this sport. The infinite number of boulders here makes it a boulderers paradise.

The climbing community in Hampi is amazing. Climbers from all over the world are here and within a day or two you find many people to climb with. One of my fondest memories of India is when I completed my first "difficult" boulder. After two days of trying to overcome it's problem I finally was able to conquer it. As I rose to my feet and screamed in triumph, a group of climbers 50 feet away cheered and one of the Turkish climbers came running up to me and handed me a cookie as a reward. Truly amazing. As the boulders grew in difficult so did the support from my friends and strangers.

"GO! GO! GO!" Is what rises from below as you begin to struggle and never stops till you are at the top or on the ground. Everyone wants to see you complete a climb.

Everyone absolutely loves it here and doesn't want to leave.

Here's a cool YouTube video to give you a taste of Hampi and bouldering. Great intro.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MVbDfHizUI&feature=related

Click here for more pictures of Hampi

10lbs In Two Hours - Mysore, Karnataka

First thing Jen and I did in Mysore was sign up for a 8 day Ashtanga yoga course. Ashtanga yoga is a series of postures (asanas) that are linked by a dynamic movement called the vinyasa. Emphasis is put on combining movement to breath and the journey between the asanas, not just the postures themselves. I've only done a handful of yoga classes back home and was excited for the opportunity to practice yoga in Mysore, the birthplace of Ashtanga Yoga.

My excitement quickly faded during the first class. Ashtanga is generally a self directed form of yoga in which you go through the series on your own with occasional adjustments from the instructor. I knew only a few asanas and quickly lost my way. The instruction from Ajay Kumar was very abrupt and firm with painfully deep adjustments. The cramped shala held 20 practitioners during class leaving little room for my usual theatrics. I easily lost 10lbs of water from the copious amount of sweating you do. It is definitely a rigorous two hour workout for strength, flexibility and calmness of mind. After the session I thought to myself, "F**k this noise! I'm out."

Once I got over my initial reaction I decided to hang in there. To my surprise I loved every moment there after and was shocked to see how far I progressed in eight short days. It was an amazing way to start the day. I was disappointed when it ended and wish I could have stayed for a month.I 'm looking forward to making this a part of my day we I get back home.

Mysore as a city has some amazing sights: Mysore Palace, Mysore Zoo, Chamundeshari Temple on Chamundi Hill and the boisterous market. Even though I enjoyed all of these excursions, the Ashtanga Yoga is by far the highlight of the city and even the country.

"Yoga is the practice of quieting the mind. "
Patanjali

For more pictures of Mysore click here