Years ago, I traveled in India for two months. The first month was in Meghalaya, a Himalayan tribal state in the northeast corner of India. I was there with my friend, a native Khasi of Meghalaya. (I'll talk about Meghalaya some other time.) The second month I set out on my own, traveling to India and Nepal.
The hard journey began almost immediately. Because the Meghalayans were fighting with the Assamese (and because the plane out of Meghalaya, Vayudoot Airlines, was too scary to fly again) I had to take a bus into neighboring Assam. It was a very long, hot bus ride where we passed a crowd on the road standing near the stiffening corpse of man who had been hit by a car (I presume) and was bloating in the hot sun.
Hours later I arrived at the airport where of course the plane ran on Indian time and was over three-hours late. I had left in the morning but by the time I got into Calcutta, not that far really, it was early evening. I had a Lonely Planet guide and used it to find quality and affordable hotels. Except they were all full. I tried several places, each less reputable than the last, until I finally found a place. It was dirty, there were so many cockroaches that I slept with the lights on and the water sprayed from the tap at a 45 degree angle. I was completely dehydrated by the time I got into this hotel and asked the staff for some boiled water. They brought it and it was suspiciously lukewarm. I added iodine (this was before they had perfected cheap and easy to carry water purification kits or tablets) but I had to drink it.
Sure enough, three days later began the fall into dysentery and three weeks of traveling to go. Skipping forward, I was back in Delhi and sick as a dog, puking or hanging my butt over a toilet. I spent a lot of my time laying in bed in the hostel, too sick to eat and tired. But I decided one day to go to the Red Fort I believe. It's been a while and it may have been some other edifice.
Having now been in India long enough to know you had to ask specific questions and bargain, I made a deal with a motorized rickshaw driver (there were bicycle and foot rickshaws as well). We agreed on the price and I said, "That's for both ways, right?" He agreed, but when he dropped me off at the fort he asked, "How long are you going to be?" I shrugged lethargically and said maybe a couple of hours or so. And off I went.
You walk a gamut of merchants at the entry of the place and I was looking in this one shop when this merchant reached out and grabbed my breast. I was too sick and shocked to do more than look and walk away. I should have slugged him. But I saw the fort, took pictures and left a couple of hours later. When I get outside there is my rickshaw driver and he starts yelling at me about the length of time. We argued as I said this is what we had agreed to. I had told him I didn't know for sure how long I would be, etc. etc. However, there were about another ten drivers standing around all staring at me, arguing in both languages. I felt intimidated by the pressure so pulled out half the fee for the one-way trip and threw it at the guy, stalking off to find a bicycle rickshaw driver.
I agreed to a price with him and got in, completely dissolute by the experience. I didn't look at anything and just sat there in a distant haze. Only motorized vehicles were allowed around Connaught Place, the giant traffic circle (with many lanes from many directions) in New Delhi. Around the outer circle were stations for the other rickshaw drivers to drop off their clients. I paid and despondently got out of the rickshaw. As I trudged away I heard, "Mems'ib, mems'ib." I turned back and there was the original rickshaw driver with the police.
At that point I didn't think about the corrupt Indian system and paying baksheesh or about the lies this guy had told. I freaked out. I started screaming at all three of them, walking up with my wrists together saying, go ahead take me away. You're trying to keep me here and who knows what other delirium was going on. Keep in mind that I was very sick and had been traveling with an overloaded backpack and a bag and a carpet (another long story) for three weeks. I was way beyond my normal comfort zone. I cried and screamed and then pulled all of the cash out of my wallet, threw it at the men and then went and sat on a wall and cried. Actually I bawled.
At one point the rickshaw driver came back and put my change beside me. I don't know if he had an attack of conscience or if the police kept him honest. I didn't care. I cried and cried and have no idea how long I sat there. At one point I heard a timid, "Mems'ib," again. When I looked up there were about six men looking at me, concerned. One asked, "What is wrong?"
I cried out something like, "nothing,you're country is trying to keep me here," etc. I was at the end of two months and heartily tired of trying to fend on my own which had not been easy in many ways. Eventually, I wandered back to the hostel where I was staying.
Before I got there a beggar came up and touched my arm, looking up at me with wide eyes. This was a child of maybe 12. Now I had already been told by my friend, and observed, that no one touches another in public in India. Actually no man will touch a woman and strangers do not touch. She had said if someone touches you, it's a sign of disrespect. After the illness, the breast grabbing, the fight with the rickshaw driver, the police and my general lack of coping by this point, I sobbed at this poor beggar, "Oh just go die, it's easier."
Yes, I told a beggar to die, because at that point it's what I wanted to do. It was perhaps the ugliest aspect of my personality and was one aspect of a life-changing journey. Before I went to India, I had this group of friends and that group of friends. I had the calm me, the conservative me, the partying me, the studious me, etc., and very few saw all of me. Like many people in our culture, I had my masques for different occasions.
Between the dysentery, the overloaded packs and the very different culture of India and their way of dealing with time and communication, I ran out of coping mechanisms. I was stripped down to my essential self. When I returned to Canada and was at some point telling a friend about my journey, she said, "Yeah, you're more accessible now." After that, everyone pretty much got the same me, amalgamated for good or ill, with fewer masques.
India was a very hard journey into my self, where I learned many valuable lessons about culture, environment, people and life. The biggest lesson was about me. I would still recommend that everyone travel to a third world country if the can. It is an eye opener and truly shows many of us how privileged we are where even conservation can be a luxury. But those are tales for another time.
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Friday, November 16, 2007
Bushmills, Dunluce and Donegal, Ireland
Our day started with Kinbane, then Carrick-a-Rede, Giants Causeway and somehow we went on to Bushmills (the town & factory) for a tour. Why? I don't care for whiskey (Scotch is different), my sister's a celiac and can't touch any wheat product.
Although they've been making whiskey since 1675 and it was interesting on how they use bourbon, port and errr, one other type of barrel to age the stuff, and although we got a shot at the end of the tour (I also got my sister's)it was still kind of a waste of time. There really was nothing to take a picture of unless I wanted to do an article on whiskey making (and maybe I should have taken more). But I took no pictures and had my sister shoot this only picture of me in Ireland with the mega bottle of booze.
So we did the tour, and now it's getting late in the day, about 4:00 and we find our way to Dunluce Castle... to see them locking it up. It was perhaps our biggest regret. If we'd missed the Bushmills tour that we weren't that enthused about we would have had time to explore the castle. And this castle had a cave. How cool is that? Alas we could only peer from the locked gates.
Our last stop was driving on to Donegal town. The pictures of Donegal and the castle are actually from the next day as we arrived with enough time to do our usual. We popped into the Reel Inn, had a drink and asked the bartender to suggest some B&Bs. It also turned out they had live music that night. So we crossed the bridge right outside the door and not believing everything was so close, continued driving up the road, to realize we'd gone too far. We turned around and then found several B&Bs just down the road. We stayed at the Bridges.
These B&Bs are nothing fancy on the outside but quite large houses inside with usually 3-5 bedrooms and a large dining room. Bernie, our host, had two cute little kids (never met the husband) and there was only a common bathroom though many B&Bs have ensuites. My sister and I each had our own room which gave me a reprieve from her snoring. (It's funny that whenever I had to wake her in the middle of the night to try and get her to stop snoring, the first thing out of her mouth, even half asleep, was "I am not." Like I had nothing better to do in the dark of night.)Bernie also washed our clothes for a few Euros each. A very nice place to stay.
So that night we went off to find dinner (quiet on a Monday). Many pubs have dining rooms upstairs. We began to notice that service in Ireland is different than here. They'll serve you but never come back and you have to hunt down the waiter to get your bill or they'll literally let you sit forever. I don't remember the name of the place but I had a mediocre chicken curry with not a speck of vegetables. but true to form it was a huge portion on rice. I ate it all and then they brought me a megasize bowl of French fries! I didn't eat any, being quite full. But there was that Irish thing of potatoes.
We then wandered back to the Reel Inn for the music though we never got farther than a few feet inside the door. I won't relate the tale here again as you'll find it if you go back to the Oct. 2 entry. We staggered into bed, a short walk of a couple minutes from pub to B&B, at 3 am.
Although they've been making whiskey since 1675 and it was interesting on how they use bourbon, port and errr, one other type of barrel to age the stuff, and although we got a shot at the end of the tour (I also got my sister's)it was still kind of a waste of time. There really was nothing to take a picture of unless I wanted to do an article on whiskey making (and maybe I should have taken more). But I took no pictures and had my sister shoot this only picture of me in Ireland with the mega bottle of booze.
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| Ireland 2007--Bush |
So we did the tour, and now it's getting late in the day, about 4:00 and we find our way to Dunluce Castle... to see them locking it up. It was perhaps our biggest regret. If we'd missed the Bushmills tour that we weren't that enthused about we would have had time to explore the castle. And this castle had a cave. How cool is that? Alas we could only peer from the locked gates.
Our last stop was driving on to Donegal town. The pictures of Donegal and the castle are actually from the next day as we arrived with enough time to do our usual. We popped into the Reel Inn, had a drink and asked the bartender to suggest some B&Bs. It also turned out they had live music that night. So we crossed the bridge right outside the door and not believing everything was so close, continued driving up the road, to realize we'd gone too far. We turned around and then found several B&Bs just down the road. We stayed at the Bridges.
These B&Bs are nothing fancy on the outside but quite large houses inside with usually 3-5 bedrooms and a large dining room. Bernie, our host, had two cute little kids (never met the husband) and there was only a common bathroom though many B&Bs have ensuites. My sister and I each had our own room which gave me a reprieve from her snoring. (It's funny that whenever I had to wake her in the middle of the night to try and get her to stop snoring, the first thing out of her mouth, even half asleep, was "I am not." Like I had nothing better to do in the dark of night.)Bernie also washed our clothes for a few Euros each. A very nice place to stay.
So that night we went off to find dinner (quiet on a Monday). Many pubs have dining rooms upstairs. We began to notice that service in Ireland is different than here. They'll serve you but never come back and you have to hunt down the waiter to get your bill or they'll literally let you sit forever. I don't remember the name of the place but I had a mediocre chicken curry with not a speck of vegetables. but true to form it was a huge portion on rice. I ate it all and then they brought me a megasize bowl of French fries! I didn't eat any, being quite full. But there was that Irish thing of potatoes.
We then wandered back to the Reel Inn for the music though we never got farther than a few feet inside the door. I won't relate the tale here again as you'll find it if you go back to the Oct. 2 entry. We staggered into bed, a short walk of a couple minutes from pub to B&B, at 3 am.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Giants Causeway, Northern Island
Giants Causeway was just west of Carrick-a-Rede. This is all in the county of Antrim, in Northern Ireland. There were tons of people here. That I even managed pictures without anyone in them is something. They have buses that are loaded up and they drive people down the hill for those who don't want the walk down or the hike up. But it's less than 30 minutes to walk one way.
The Causeway stones are basalt and due to an ancient (65 million years) lava flow as well as hot and humid conditions interspersed with colder air, caused the geometric fracturing of the stones. I believe there is in one area like this in Scottland too.
The pictures are pretty much self-explanatory. Amazing to look out but we didn't do the long hike around to the Chimney and the Organ. Maybe next time. The parts of the Causeway where the stones are pitted reminded me of ancient vertebrae. Definitely worth seeing.
The Causeway stones are basalt and due to an ancient (65 million years) lava flow as well as hot and humid conditions interspersed with colder air, caused the geometric fracturing of the stones. I believe there is in one area like this in Scottland too.
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| Ireland 2007--Gian |
The pictures are pretty much self-explanatory. Amazing to look out but we didn't do the long hike around to the Chimney and the Organ. Maybe next time. The parts of the Causeway where the stones are pitted reminded me of ancient vertebrae. Definitely worth seeing.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Carrick-a-Rede, Ireland
Still on Oct. 1, travelling west along the north coast of Ireland, we went next to Carrick-a-Rede, which means something like big rock. Carrich is the name of the island and it's tiny. It has a rope bridge suspended over a churning passage. Really, the bridge is twisted tensile metal strands and very sturdy. I think it was updated in 2000.
Used by fisherman since the 16th century, it was once just a rope with some wood slats. Down one side, just before the rope bridge is the husk of a building used for the salmon fishery. I believe this closed down in the 80s or 90s as fisheries all over the world have met similar demises. Fishing by boat was somewhat treacherous so the fishermen used Carrick island to fish from. I'm not sure if they trawled as there does seem to be some evidence of pulleys and such but in any case, Carrick like Kinbane, no longer has a fishing industry.
The walk to Carrick was beautiful. We had great weather and although there in the morning it warmed up quite a bit, especially with the stairs on the return visit. The ocean here was absolutely amazing. The colours in the pictures are quite accurate and it reminded of the water around the Bahamas, but wilder and colder. The white cliffs are limestone and the rest is basalt I believe. On Carrick island the beginnings of the fractured basalt that makes up Giants Causeway could be seen.
This was hike two, after Kinbane but really took only about 45 minutes in all to get to the island and back. The island itself was very hummocky and spongy. They have signs requesting that you protect the environment, which I presumed met walk lightly (as there were many people and would be more in the afternoon) and don't pick anything.
It's a rugged coast and I can see any landing, or a storm tossed night probably claimed its share of ships.
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| Ireland 2007--Carr |
Used by fisherman since the 16th century, it was once just a rope with some wood slats. Down one side, just before the rope bridge is the husk of a building used for the salmon fishery. I believe this closed down in the 80s or 90s as fisheries all over the world have met similar demises. Fishing by boat was somewhat treacherous so the fishermen used Carrick island to fish from. I'm not sure if they trawled as there does seem to be some evidence of pulleys and such but in any case, Carrick like Kinbane, no longer has a fishing industry.
The walk to Carrick was beautiful. We had great weather and although there in the morning it warmed up quite a bit, especially with the stairs on the return visit. The ocean here was absolutely amazing. The colours in the pictures are quite accurate and it reminded of the water around the Bahamas, but wilder and colder. The white cliffs are limestone and the rest is basalt I believe. On Carrick island the beginnings of the fractured basalt that makes up Giants Causeway could be seen.
This was hike two, after Kinbane but really took only about 45 minutes in all to get to the island and back. The island itself was very hummocky and spongy. They have signs requesting that you protect the environment, which I presumed met walk lightly (as there were many people and would be more in the afternoon) and don't pick anything.
It's a rugged coast and I can see any landing, or a storm tossed night probably claimed its share of ships.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Not Seeing Clearly
One of the other things needed for Ireland was money, of course. Euros and Great British Pounds as Northern Ireland and Glasgow are on pounds and the rest of Ireland on Euros.I'd been reading and was told that it's getting very hard to cash traveller's cheques. I presumed because of the amount of forgeries and counterfeiting.
So, I called my bank's central phone number and told them which branch I'd be going to and about how many Euros I would need, as well as when I'd be coming in. They said no problem, there will be enough. I dropped in on Friday, though I had been thinking of doing it this Tuesday afternoon. I'm very glad I didn't wait.
I arrived to find they had nowhere near enough Euros. I had a wedding and work on the car on Saturday. They were closed Sunday, and other branches were closed Wednesay as well as me working. They called around but no branches had enough. Eventually, after 45 minutes the bank scraped up every Euro they had. I ended up with a rather large wad of 5s, 10s, 20s, 50s, and one 100. It's bulky and it's a lot of money. But kudos to Vancity for coming through.
So that night I'm telling my friend Lorna about the Euro crisis and she says: There are banking machines all over Europe. You could have just withdrawn the money there. Arrgghh!
The last major travelling I did outside of the US was to Cuba where there weren't many if any banking machines and I just brought cash, bringing most of it home again. Before that was India in 1989 and even today I'd be dubious about parts of the country being up to date with banking machines. Sigh, you learn a few lessons and at least this wasn't a bad one to learn.
So, I called my bank's central phone number and told them which branch I'd be going to and about how many Euros I would need, as well as when I'd be coming in. They said no problem, there will be enough. I dropped in on Friday, though I had been thinking of doing it this Tuesday afternoon. I'm very glad I didn't wait.
I arrived to find they had nowhere near enough Euros. I had a wedding and work on the car on Saturday. They were closed Sunday, and other branches were closed Wednesay as well as me working. They called around but no branches had enough. Eventually, after 45 minutes the bank scraped up every Euro they had. I ended up with a rather large wad of 5s, 10s, 20s, 50s, and one 100. It's bulky and it's a lot of money. But kudos to Vancity for coming through.
So that night I'm telling my friend Lorna about the Euro crisis and she says: There are banking machines all over Europe. You could have just withdrawn the money there. Arrgghh!
The last major travelling I did outside of the US was to Cuba where there weren't many if any banking machines and I just brought cash, bringing most of it home again. Before that was India in 1989 and even today I'd be dubious about parts of the country being up to date with banking machines. Sigh, you learn a few lessons and at least this wasn't a bad one to learn.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Time Crunch
I'll be leaving for Ireland next week and hope to post some while on the trip but I have no idea how our time will be and how often I'll find an internet cafe. Ireland is not cheap by far, and Dublin is one of the most expensive cities in Europe. I'm going with my sister and we'll be spending a day or two at most in Dublin. Advice by Irish people I've met is that you don't need longer there.
So far, even before going, transportation has been a bit of a tangle. We booked through Air Transat because it was cheapest by far but having flown to Cuba before on that airline, they really like to cram you in. I think I'll be going for strolls while on the plane.
The flight goes to Glasgow and then you need to book one to Dublin. Well, no problem. Everyone says Ryanair is really cheap. There's Aer Lingus but it's a tad more expensive (like a lot!). We didn't rush in booking because we wanted to coordinate it with the car rentals and when our first flight would arrive. And before that we took two weeks to find suitable and cheapish accommodation in Dublin. Not that easy and you have to check various sites as the price can vary.
I have friends in Glasgow and Erin happened to ask if we were flying to Dublin from Glasgow International or Prestwick Glasgow airport. Errr? I'm so glad she asked as we fly into Glasgow (GLA) and Ryanair only flies out of Prestwick. Then we have to take a train and a bus or taxi from one to the other, and it takes about an hour. Our heads were starting to spin by this time.
We arrive into GLA at 2:30 pm but the only Aer Lingus flight leaves at 10:30 pm. But if we get to Prestwick, then there's a flight at 5 or at 10:30. Is it cheaper with all the hassle and train/bus fare, plus after customs would we make the 5 pm flight? Or should we bite the more expensive bullet? (Aer Lingus has a lower baggage weight so do we pack for that flight and extra pounds can become extra pounds British!) Erin suggests that we have dinner with them and then can catch our flight out.
Once we get through this nodule of confusion, I'm sure the rest of the trip will be fine. But what a logistics headache. I now wish that I'd gone with a travel agent but they can't book Aer Lingus or Ryanair flights. After this, we'll be more experienced on travel to Ireland.
So far, even before going, transportation has been a bit of a tangle. We booked through Air Transat because it was cheapest by far but having flown to Cuba before on that airline, they really like to cram you in. I think I'll be going for strolls while on the plane.
The flight goes to Glasgow and then you need to book one to Dublin. Well, no problem. Everyone says Ryanair is really cheap. There's Aer Lingus but it's a tad more expensive (like a lot!). We didn't rush in booking because we wanted to coordinate it with the car rentals and when our first flight would arrive. And before that we took two weeks to find suitable and cheapish accommodation in Dublin. Not that easy and you have to check various sites as the price can vary.
I have friends in Glasgow and Erin happened to ask if we were flying to Dublin from Glasgow International or Prestwick Glasgow airport. Errr? I'm so glad she asked as we fly into Glasgow (GLA) and Ryanair only flies out of Prestwick. Then we have to take a train and a bus or taxi from one to the other, and it takes about an hour. Our heads were starting to spin by this time.
We arrive into GLA at 2:30 pm but the only Aer Lingus flight leaves at 10:30 pm. But if we get to Prestwick, then there's a flight at 5 or at 10:30. Is it cheaper with all the hassle and train/bus fare, plus after customs would we make the 5 pm flight? Or should we bite the more expensive bullet? (Aer Lingus has a lower baggage weight so do we pack for that flight and extra pounds can become extra pounds British!) Erin suggests that we have dinner with them and then can catch our flight out.
Once we get through this nodule of confusion, I'm sure the rest of the trip will be fine. But what a logistics headache. I now wish that I'd gone with a travel agent but they can't book Aer Lingus or Ryanair flights. After this, we'll be more experienced on travel to Ireland.
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