MID LIFE AT THE OASIS

We got to Agra Friday night and got up a the crack of dawn to beat the crowds and experience some solitude at the Taj Mahal before and during sunrise. It was mysterious and a wonderful to see the over-touristed and greatest “Monument to Love”, but as always, it seems the most hyped places are not the ones that stick with you and are certainly not the essence of world travel. We had a more memorable interaction with a boy in the grungy Taj Ganj neighborhood afterwards who appeared to be on his way to a better life outside the slums. We also really enjoyed laughing at the “gone native” British women decked out in saris and chatted with a gung-ho Belgian couple for nearly an hour while watching the sunlight change the mighty structure minute by minute. Not that I’ll soon forget the Taj.

So we left Agra the next day and after another somewhat aimless day in Delhi, left that evening on a nice Shatabdi Express train to the (relatively) affluent and (relatively) green city of Chandigarh http://chandigarh.nic.in/, in the northern state of Punjab. Punjab is mostly Sikh, (they are easy to spot as they wear turbans) and we could easily notice the difference in friendliness from Delhi as there seems to be a bit of attitude around the capital. Chandigarh had a more laid back and straightforward ambiance. We are glad we made the two night stop there on the way to the mountains as we saw a totally different side of Northern India. Middle class. Chandigarh is also notorious for two other reasons, it was planned and designed by the famous architect Le Corbusier in 1958 and it has a rock garden park like no other in the world. So lets get to these two things.

Corbuiser laid out the city in “Sectors”. Our budget ($10) hotel was in Sector 22 while the shopping District was in Sector 17. The room price included the usual luxuries of Northern India, such as a trickle of hot water, a broken toilet, 5 guys hanging out in the “lobby” 24/7, and free wake-up throat and phlegm clearing at 5 a.m. In between each Sector are large boulevards that were intended to move the new auto traffic, but make walking between sectors difficult at best. But as this is India, we took the death-defying multi-lane ped sprints across the boulevards in stride as the rest of the country serves the pedestrian no better. Actually, Chandigarh has some sidewalks and paved bike paths which truly does separate it from other places we have seen. It also has loads of trees, but there is really no great center other than a large concrete plaza surrounded by a mishmash of shops and interrupted by stretches of dirt, mud, and the usual trash. Ironically, I got the sense that the vast layout of the city is actually serving the new middle class quite well as new car-oriented developments are going in at at breakneck pace as Corbusier’s plan meshes with this US 1950’s development quite well. Older chaotic Indian cities often struggle as the auto-centric lifestyle pushes aside the old ways of life, but Chandigarh was built for the new India.

As for the rock garden, pictures are necessary and will be forthcoming, but basically this one “crazy”, “Eccentric” “Brilliant” man led the creation of acres and acres of canyons, waterfalls, bridges, trees, and most of all, thousands of pieces of folk art figures and murals. It is brilliant and was the highlight of our visit to Chandigarh. (Corbusier’s architecture there left me a bit cold) The locals love it too as the place was packed in the late afternoon. The creator of the rock garden, Nek Chand was a Road Inspector in the Engineering Department of the Chandigarh Capital Project. He roamed the Shivalik foothills and picked up stones resembling bird, animal, human and abstract forms. He brought them on his bicycle. The first seven years (1958-65) were spent collecting natural material, urban and industrial waste. Gradually his collection mounted to a staggering twenty thousand rock form of amazing beauty.

We headed out of Chandigarh to the dusty city of Kalka where you change to the narrow gauge railway (Toy Train) that winds up to the old British hill Station of Shimla at 2100m. We headed for our reserved seats and found that we were in a packed car with no room for any baggage. None. The two local women sharing knee and leg space with us had their baggage in the middle, leaving us with zero leg room and a 6 hour journey ahead. My hulking mass of legs and arms would not survive this situation, so we tried to move to a little more open space, but found those seats reserved as well as people packed in. This was going to be a bad India day now wasn’t it?

But wait, so here is the trick with Indian rail: they post the entire reservation lists on the outside of each car so you can find your seats, but in this case, I scoped back to Car 4 and found NO RESERVATIONS on the car and one person sitting in this empty car while we all packed into 3 other cars. So I grabbed Cheryl and we headed back to the car and spread out nicely with windows and room for baggage. About a dozen other backpackers from a big Aussie group in Car 2 had figured out the same thing by this time and had also spread out nicely to fill car 4 and relieve the crush in the other cars. Ahh bliss for a minute, until the conductor boarded and started to throw a fit that we weren’t all in our proper seats. Logic was not going to work on this guy as he really wanted us all in the other cars and was clearly content to run the train up the mountains with 3 packed cars and one empty one. But this was not our first week in India and we have learned to be patient and vague in out intentions or desires as most people in power are here. We all stalled and talked about the situation a bit until there was only 1 minute to departure and we realized we had won and broken the man down. He was not happy, and we were all convinced that our rebellious car 4 would somehow end up on a siding half way up the mountain. It did not and the ride was quite lovely through 103 tunnels and loads of stone trestles all built in the early 1900’s.

Shimla is really unique, as its one of the few mountain cities that I know of that is actually built right on a ridge. It also has swaths of car-free space in a 2-mile long “mall” that forms the backbone of the ridge and serves as the civic gathering space for thousands who stroll, hang out, and even do a little business in this vertical town. There are also amazing local bazaars that wind along the hillsides in a maze of alleys, stairs, and paths. The highlight of Shimla though was the climb up to the Jakhu Hanuman temple, which sits on a small peak above the town. It is a shrine to the monkey god and sure enough, hundreds of marauding monkeys hang out there. Remove glasses and loose things in your pockets warn the signs as you approach. The monkeys were crazy, but fun to watch, although a few did look ready to attack. A big stick really is needed to keep them away.

We also decided to hire a driver and transport for the next week out of Shimla as exploring the mountains in winter by bus was a bit daunting and frankly, we were weary of constantly spending half our time planning transport or waiting for transport to the next place. Our driver, Rana, is a nice mellow guy who speaks just enough English to get by (he is not a guide) and basically takes us from town to town (and wonderful little places along the way), sleeping where we sleep or nearby, and meeting us in the morning. It has made the past 4 days much more enjoyable as I can actually put more energy into absorbing the culture and landscapes, and less time trying to figure out our next move. He is getting a good deal from us too, since we generally leave him as soon as we arrive somewhere, as we always want to spend the rest of our time out of the car and walking in the hills. (or mountains now!) We figure we’re due this little luxury ($45/day) after years of being car free in SF.

So the mountains are magnificent and all freshly snow capped, and we are just blown away by the intact villages of indigenous Tibetans who still live completely traditional existences, complete with shoulder baskets to haul goods, traditional dress, and terracing farming methods that make the hillsides just mystical. And they are so warm and friendly that it just astounds your sense of well being. I will take the warm conversations, smiles, and interactions with me forever.

So after 3 days in Varanasi, we had booked another night train to Jhansi and headed out fearlessly into the alleys from the river, certain that this time “we would not get lost!!!” Well, we got lost again. After getting lost in the alleys (for the 10th time) again, we finally made it to the main road and got in a cycle-rickshaw, which is basically a partially covered tricycle with just enough seat space for two (although this one was narrow).

This is where our our small packs came in handy as we balanced them on our laps and held on for dear life as our peddler struggled to move the two large Americans and their luggage though the completely girdlocked streets of Varanasi. It was the most memorable 30-minute ride of our trip, as watching this man maneuver the traffic was just astonishingly, as he brushed bus bumpers, took back “road” “shortcuts” and then merged into the complete chaos that is know as the Varanasi Junction Train Station. We tipped him well in awe, as I have a hard time bargaining with cycle-rickshaw riders as they work HARD. It doesn’t seem fair to me that they get less money for taking you the same distance as a taxi or auto-rickshaw with no pollution or noise.

We were in a second class 2-tier sleeper that most guidebooks say is just fine, except of course, the hardcore backpackers who prefer to sleep with the masses in “sleeper” class which usually makes up 90% of the train cars, and is the way most Indians travel. (our car was full of middle-class Indians). The ac cars are sealed up and the windows are always dirty, so your view is not nearly as good as from the open bar window cars of the sleeper class. Well, we boarded the train and lucked out with a semi-private two bunk area that had curtain separation from the aisle and side sleeper bunks. So all is fine and we were looking forward ( o.k. resigned) to another night on the train, which I actually kind of enjoy the surreal nature of dozing off and on as the train rolls through the night. We locked our packs under the seat and played some cards to pass the time (we are becoming ferocious gin rummy players). Suddenly, a small cockroach wanders up the wall in front of us, and then another on the bunk behind us…..then another, and another…….you get the idea. Well, after trying to control the population with about 40 paperback book kills, we gave up. Now, neither of us are freaked out by bugs that much, but the problem here was that the walls and bunks were connected on two sides, so the little guys had free access to your sheets, pillow, and face. It was pretty awful.

We kinda rocked in place on the lower bunk and then Cheryl decided to brave it and pushed her sheet into the corner, climbed up and went to sleep. i tried to kill another dozen and then, too decided to give sleep a try. It was actually fine if you just closed your eyes and ignored it. The only problem was waking up and seeing 2 or 3 right by your head. I only had one actually crawl across me. The fact that we got 4-5 hours of choppy sleep is a miracle and a sign that we have adapted a bit in our year off. And to add to our malaise, the cockroach express was 5 hours late, so we got to enjoy the entire morning with our little friends while stopped on the tracks for hours at a time. This was not a high point of the trip.

But to our relief, Jhansi is a much more sane city than Varanasi, and the train station looked like Vienna compared to Delhi and Varanasi. (well, almost) We took a nicely decorated auto-rickshaw (18 km, way too far for a bike) driven by a cheerful guy who could appear on postcards for friendly India. He chatted and pointed out the sights with one hand while dodging oncoming trucks and cows with the other. Our destination was the wonderful little town of Orchha, which rises up out of the plains in gently rolling terrain and is just flush with 16th and 17th century forts, temples, and other ruins, all along a scenic and unpolluted river. We had lots of nice interactions with the locals, as the tout pressure was much less here. These few days were a high point for me. We explored the forts and temples for a few quiet days and headed out for Agra and the might Taj Mahal slightly recharged.

Up and down in India…..but never dull

-R

So as you have probably guessed by the long gap in my blog, that we made it to India. We got our visa Thursday evening and flew out of Vienna on Friday As for India so far; there really aren’t any words to describe it, but I’m going to give it the old college try. India has been so intense from the moment that we arrived that it took about 5 days to catch my breath. The hectic pace of the transport “system” is almost too much to handle, but then you find yourself lost in some amazing sight, smell, or sound that you know will be etched into your brain for life. 100 monkeys that have taken over a train platform in the night. (or on your window ledge of your hotel!) Watching thousands pray and bathe in the holy Ganges in Varanasi at dawn. The cheerful smile of all the kids you meet and talk to in the smaller towns. And it’s only been a week.

That seems to be the trade off for travel to India. A lot of almost constant hassle for some memorable encounters and sights that you will see nowhere else on the planet. Moments of despair and frustration countered with moments of beauty and warmth. Whether its all worth it is up for debate, but I’m certainly warming to the ways and sights as we enter our second week here. It is getting easier and as everyone has said, “after India, Asia is a piece of cake”. Well, thank god for that. After a truly inspiring visit to the Taj Majal at dawn this morning, we’ve found a friendly internet cafe here in Agra, and its giving us the opportunity to catch up on things a bit and even burn some photos to CD, so hopefully we’ll get them up on our Flickr site in the next week or so.

Our arrival in Delhi was fine since we had prearranged pick-up from our guest house in quiet south Delhi, our home for about 9 hours until check out the next day. We soon immediately realized that walking is nearly impossible in large Indian cities for three reasons: 1) there are no sidewalks 2) Its dangerous (because there are no sidewalks) 3) You are exposed to the endless “touts”, which is perhaps the greatest threat to your mental stability as a newbie.

Now anyone whose been to India does not need to have explained the persistence and consistency of interactions on the streets of the major tourist areas of India. And the poverty. Y’all can skip down a few paragraphs. It is truly unbelievable how harassed you can feel as a Westerner on the streets here. Literally hundreds of offers or requests for rickshaw rides, stores, tours, drugs (Varanasi), or food. Now after awhile you learn that 99.9% of it is harmless, but it still factors into every move you make and every place you decide to go to. But you can’t blame them either, so you must reside and stay calm….very zen Ricardo….very zen.

Then are the beggars and omnipresent poverty at every turn which you can’t help but feel awful about, especially when you have to literally push aside a crippled man grabbing onto your leg. It burns at your gut and puts being a “tourist” in new light, since you know in your heart how much more resources you have than these people, but where to start. This is the way of a struggling country of 1.1 Billion, with 400 million living in clear poverty. It’s also something you have to get over to travel in developing countries, but I’m not sure how well I can deal with this. We can donate to charity (and have) to offset some guilt, but it still doesn’t change the daily realities of travel in India. We are also realizing that we will face many of these same challenges in SE Asia and are already questioning our will to go on with as extensive travels in all of these places. Of course, tourism can help people, especially if the money goes to locals and trickles down a bit as it clearly has in some of the areas we have travelled. Croatia has virtually replaced fishing with tourism and Thailand is a model for other SE Asian countries wishing to develop a strong tourist infrastructure. But India is thriving on other fronts and there is a growing middle class, something you see in many of the cities, restaurants, hotels, and television ads. But there is such a long way to go, such a long way.

So we chilled in Cannaught place in Delhi until catching a night train to Varanasi. The train was no problem as we had splurged for first class sleeper and had our own compartment with little veggie dinners brought in and loads of Chai tea. We arrived at 9 am and headed out of the mess that is the train station to catch a taxi to the hotel. The train was no problem as we had splurged for first class sleeper and had our own compartment. Well, one of the other lessons you soon learn travelling in India is that almost everything is an adventure and almost nothing goes as planned, but somehow it all works out. Our taxi driver graciously offered to lead us through the most confusing maze of alleys in the old city to our budget hotel overlooking the Ganges highly recommended by Lonely Planet and another website that I have come to trust, Seat61.com, a train geeks travel site extraordinaire.

As we dodged dozens of cows, touts, scooters, goats, and beggars, we realized that we must be getting close. Well, our driver told us that we couldn’t get through to the hotel since they were filming a movie and walked us aback out to the main “road” where we decided to call the hotel. Now here is my second lesson on the Indian people so far. Most are extremely nice and generally they really do want to help you. But I had read too many stories of taxi drivers telling you your hotel is “closed’, burnt down, or booked and proving their story by calling the hotel, so I was highly dubious. “Filming a movie in this chaos and filth?”, I couldn’t help but think. So I made him show me the phone number as he dialed the hotel and low and behold it turned out to be true, they were filming a real Bollywood film right in the alley of our hotel! India gives and India takes….The hotel porter came out to lead us through the police line and we made it intact. I gave the taxi driver a big tip and apologized for my scepticism. Learning to trust makes at times is necessary for travel here.

So we actually got to listen and watch them filming from our balcony and from the hotel entrance onto the alley, along with seeing the main stars roll through the small courtyard of the Alka hotel with their entourage. You could feel the buzz. The second day they were filming a big dance number on the steps of one of the most beautiful river “ghats”, which line the Ganges for miles in Varanasi and provide access for thousands of Pilgrims and locals to contact this most holy of rivers for Hindus. We can’t wait to try to see the movie “Apocolypso”, as signed on the stars chill room.

The little hotel was a small gem, as our modest and tiny $19 room had million dollar views, complete with a caged in balcony. We thought at first that this was for security (from people) but we soon learned that it was to protect you from the hundreds of marauding monkeys. They crawled all over the hotel, leaping from trees to balconies and even roaming the landings, stairs and courtyards at night. We heard one woman scream at night followed by screeching monkey sounds as we think she was startled or attacked by one of the cute little guys. The funny feeling of the cage was that it felt like the monkeys were free and we were caged. But it sure was fun to watch them, especially when they would be having turf wars with the local scruffy dog brigade.

We got up the second day and took a row boat down the river, rowed by the kind Ajay who had transported us the day before to see the cremations on the river further south. The river scene is one of the wonders of the world, and will be much easier to explain with photos. So I will wait.

Well, we are off in the morning from Agra to New Delhi again, where we have a day to hang out while waiting for a late afternoon train to Chandigarh, (a Le Corbusier planned city?!) where we will stay for a few nights prior to heading up to the mountains of Shimla on the edge of the Himalayas We are looking forward to walking and hiking again, as the options were limited in Varanasi and Agra.

Perhaps tomorrow I will finish the first week, as we haven’t even discussed the most amazing cycle-rickshaw ride, the “Cockroach Express” night Train or wonderful Orchha, my favorite place so far.

Ciao -R

Vienna is a beautiful, well run European capital that has one of the best public transit systems that I have ever used. They have this really cool bike borrowing system called Citybike which we used the first day to ride along the Danube and through some of the parks (Including Prater) There are bike lanes, many wonderfully separated from traffic and pedestrians, and bike signals and signage nearly everywhere you want to go. You get bikes form one of the 50 stations by using your credit card and a one time registration that you can do right at the station. And amazingly the bikes are free for the first hour, and only a euro or so after that, and you can return them to any other station. The bikes seem to have airless tires, but are not too clunky. We did notice yesterday that one of the stations was broken and that it seems many bikes are available downtown, but fewer up the hills outside the inner ring. So we’re wondering if they have to move the bikes around to maintain a balance. Anyways the system is great and seems to be well used by locals, although we are the only tourists we’ve seen on them.

Well, all I can say is that everything so far on our trip has gone nearly perfectly, so it’s about time that something went a little awry. It appears in my meticulous planning over the past year that I totally misfiled the need for an Indian Visa in my brain. I was reading about each major destination that we were going to about a month at a time and made some notes about India, but apparently totally forget that we needed to get a visa in San Francisco prior to departure in August. I have the visas we need to get on the road all set, by checking on getting visas for Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam in Bangkok, and getting a Chinese Visa in Sydney. No problem. So when Cheryl discovered on Sunday in the Czech republic that we DID need a visa, we checked the Indian Embassy web site and got an application. It appeared we could get a visa in one day so we diligently filled out the applications on Monday night with the intent of getting to the Embassy first thing at opening to turn in our applications. Now, I was a bit stressed about this already, since our flights were set for Thursday (yes today, so you can see where this is going…), and I had booked the Delhi hotel, airport pick-up, two overnight trains, and a room in Varanasi.

Now the following is one of the reasons why Cheryl and I make such a good team, with the perfect combinations of Type A and Type B behavior. (And why I love her so) She read on the 5 page instruction sheet Monday night that the one-day thing was only for Austrian nationals and other foreign nationals could take four days. But she nicely waited to tell me this until the next morning when we were riding the (clean, low-boarding, and frequent) bus down to the Ringstrasse. What, what what? 4 Days? So I slept well Monday night as she correctly figured that this would kind of set me off, and sure enough when we got to the Embassy he told us that it would be Friday as the need to get clearance from Washington for Americans. We explained we were flying on Thursday, but clearly there was not much they could do, and after all, this was all our fault ( o.k. my fault). After some more pleasant edged conversation, he did say that he could scribble an urgent request at the top of the faxes, but that was the limit of his power, as there were no other special rush methods available. Our first lesson in the methodical, yet polite ways of Indian Bureaucracy. I believe it is a somewhat American trait to always believe theathere must be a way to get something done, with enough rush fees, or some other special process.

So to make a long story a bit shorter, we delayed our flight on Austrian Airlines until tomorrow (thank you flexible RTW tickets and there were seats) and after checking in with Embassy yesterday, he was somewhat reassuring that if we stopped by late this afternoon that the Visas should be ready. But he is not positive, so we’re living a bit on the edge now as delaying another day will be a mess, since I’ll have to cancel and rebook all our trains and hotels, and the availability of both of these is challenging, as Indian trains are way overburdened. Right now we just shortened our stay in Delhi from one two to one night, which some people may actually argue is a smart move regardless.

So wish us luck, and if you don’t hear from us in a few days, then let’s all assume that we flew out tomorrow, otherwise I’ll be right back here at the Internet cafe again to dump my brain. At least we are ‘stuck’ in Vienna, which has lots of grand museums and other sights to explore. Yesterday we went to the grand Kunsthistorisches museum and today we rode trams and buses out to the nice hills North of the city, full of trails, vineyards, and some nice old homes. And yes, we even found a good microbrewery last night called 7Stern Brau that had this amazing ‘RauchBier’ that was nice and smokey and completely unique. And the beer comes in convenient 5-pound liters to avoid the pesky need to reorder too often.

So we got the bus to the border of the Czech republic It was COLD on the little mountain pass, but just above freezing as we got off the bus and walked down the street to the border. Unfortunately the little pedestrian entrance was closed (off season), so we had the indignity of approaching the auto lane entrance, which kind of felt like walking up to a drive thru window. I was in my sandals and was way under dressed as we had actually thought that morning while sitting at the bus station that we should stay on the Polish side of the border for 2 more nights, but then noticed the bus we were catching went all the way to the border. So we rethought the crossing as we knew the weather was supposed to get worse in a few days (and it did). Luckily, the border guys were pretty mellow as this is an EU-EU crossing with little action these days, but I did take the first opportunity to put on warmer clothes prior to our hike down to town. We then had a nice hike down into Harranchov, which is a very pleasant little mountain-ski resort town that seems to be about 25% German, as the border of Germany is only 10 miles away. (This is where Poland, Germany, and he Czech Republic meet if you want to get your maps out )

The first thing I realized in the Czech Republic was how close you are at all times to great beer. In fact as I was changing under a little awning, a woman opened the door and asked if we wanted anything (beer and vodka) from a little shack we though was closed. Beer is certainly easier to find than water, gas, or juice.

I’ll be honest, I’ve never been a huge fan of pilsners and have always thought that many highly touted European beers were overrated, including Pilsner Urquell. As my friends at home know, I am a loyal American microbrew fan, and generally prefer a good Pale Ale. Well, there is something amazing about the Czech beer (and the 60 or so breweries) that is hard to describe, but I think half of it comes down to ingredients, freshness, and volume, They drink a lot of beer here, about 60 liters per capita per year. That is a lot of beer. Well, in order to keep this quantity maintained on a national level, it appears to me that Czech society has developed the following adaptations.

1) Drink Early and Often – We have seen (many) people drinking half liters of beer at 9 a.m. and beer is a staple of lunch, dinner, and of course, beer drinking time (which is always).

2) Local Breweries – I have had about 10 different kinds of Czech beers here and they were all good and fresh. And some are so fresh that you just find yourself sliding glass after glass down without even a small burp. It really is wonderful stuff.

3) Border Collie Bartenders – I have run into 2 marginally neurotic bartenders serving beer in two very hardcore drinking restaurants-bars. One guy in Harranchov was the most dedicated beer artist that I have ever seen in my life, and may ever see.

He poured perfect Pilsner Urquell from 4 beautiful brass taps and twitched like a Border Collie as he watched the entire room drink their beer, just waiting for the next call to serve up another fresh half liter, since it took about 5-10 minutes to properly pour a beer. I had the luxury of siting in front of him at the bar as Cheryl was making phone calls down the street and it brought tears to my eyes. Here is a guy who really loves his work. I think they may have served other beverages in this little bar, but there was no sign of anything like wine, spirits, or even another type of beer. Pilsner Urquell (12 degrees I believe) A very slight angle on the glass, not the heavy tilt used by many lesser beer-tenders in the US to limit the head and pour faster. And he pauses in the middle of the beer as he often is working on pouring 3 or 4 beers at once. And when he is done, you get a perfect mug of beer with the perfect few inches of head rising just above the lip of the glass. Beautiful.

Olomouc is a big surprise and just a perfect little university town to explore for a few relaxing days as we prepare for Vienna and India a bit. It snowed on Friday which made the trees and foliage just glisten in the late fall sunlight. Prague was great too, as our neighborhood, Vinohrady, reminded us of San Francisco with more efficient transit. Wonderful buildings, parks, and wandering around a city that seems to be doing it right. We really dodged the crowds too, which always makes things more intimate and personal. And just to close the loop, we left Harrachov on a series of local trains that ended with the most crowded 4 hour train ride of my life, along with a track construction bus transfer in the middle. We took it in stride though which clearly shows our level of mellowness, and all I could think was that it was good preparation for India. The IPOD really helped here.

LITTLE VISITED STATUE IN PRAGUE CASTLE

So we’re off to Vienna on the train tomorrow and fly to India on Thursday. Luckily, Cheryl just caught a major planning glitch, as I thought I had read that you could get a tourist visa on arrival in India. Doohhh, not true! So we just printed out visa applications and it looks like it will be no problem getting visas in three days in Vienna. It would have been fun to get sent back from the airport or deported as their website states will happen if you land without a visa. Ooops…maybe its the beer…

Visas aside, I am getting a grasp on our next destination after 10 hours on the Internet this weekend. I have booked two overnight train tickets and a place to stay in Varanasi, which is where we are headed on Saturday night from Delhi. There is still only one problem, as I have tried to book 10 hotels-guesthouses in Delhi and they are all full, so we have no place to stay upon our midnight arrival. There are 2 dozen 4 and 5 star hotels (although most are booked) that want 400 dollars per night and up. It’s crazy as I think some event must be going on there. Of course, there are tons of places in the 10 to 25 dollar range, but each one I search on the web about comes up with horror stories. There are virtually no places to stay between 25 and 400 dollars a night which I guess sums up the imbalances in wealth in India quite well. I’m freaking out a bit about this, but I know it will work out. Worst case, we just take a trustworthy tout to a lousy place our first very short night and then find something better the next morning by walking around a bit. We thought about sleeping in the airport until a morning train, but it seems a shame not to at least spend a day or two experiencing the chaos of Delhi. Clearly things will be better once we are out of Delhi.

Wish us luck……but we ARE excited! And this is what it’s all about.

Now wait a second…..what the hell am I doing sitting in this Internet cafe on our last night in the Czech Republic? There is a place here in Olomouc, Czech that also has a crazy beer server, so we might just head back there tonight.

So much beer and so little time.

Warsaw is huge and is full of pockets of culture and history, connected by scattered and vast spaces. The scale of the main boulevards is massive and the legacy of the Soviet architecture leaves the feeling that this is a city that is going to have a hard time competing to make people want to live there. There are long pedestrian underpasses under every major intersection that often require going about a half a mile just to get across a few corners or to the tram stop out on a distant island, not to mention the stairs up and down. There are a lot of buses and trams, and one metro line, but they still connect these vast open spaces. We walked miles and miles both ways across the core of the city and were exhausted. It’s scale demoralizes you as a pedestrian. Amazingly the city just cries out for cycling as a solution to the distances and scattered street plan, but we saw very few cyclists compared to other cities in Eastern and Central Europe. We certainly wished we had bikes, and a few feet of bike space of the hundreds available on every big street.

But there is a lot of energy in the city and the people are clearly tough, as evidenced by the amazing struggle to survive two world wars and the soviets. And the other thing I found in Poland was the fact that the people are some of the friendliest that we have encountered and seem to be very happy. We found bus drivers, shop keepers, and people on the street were laughing a lot, and always seemed to take the light side.

We left Warsaw on a First Class train, as we had only taken second class to date on the entire trip and were feeling like a bit of a splurge (15 USD extra), since second class on some of the trains we had been on in Poland were crowded and not very comfortable. Well first class was fine, and very quiet, but very dull, since it was all business people. But I was feeling worn out a bit and couldn’t face an adventure that day. You don§t get good stories from travelling first class, but sometimes you need a break. The adventure is definitely inversely proportional to the style and class of train, with local and 2nd class only cars being the most colorful, and intercity reserved seat first class the worst. I think mixing it up a bit based on your mood is best, but India may be an exception, since apparently you can barely get on any train there unless you reserve a higher class (of the 8 train classes there) seat through the tourist ticket windows. The same goes for buses, as the Muppet buses are what I will remember, while the slick AC intercity coaches a bit lacking. Of course, most places in Europe 2nd class is more than fine for even my lanky body to travel comfortably.

We arrived in Wroclaw (sort of pronounced Veratz-off) after traversing the great plains of central Poland. Wroclaw is in the finally the Silesia region of Southwest Poland, a fascinating area with a turbulent history and beautiful rolling countryside. But the best thing about Wroclaw was the fact that we got to stay with another local family for a few days through the wonderful (did I mention how much I like Servas today).

Gosia and Wojciech met us at the train station and took us to there home in one of the neighborhoods of Wroclaw. The family lived in one of the old style high-rise soviet era apartment buildings, which was fascinating for us as we have seen thousands of similar buildings in nearly every city we’ve been too and always wanted to know what they are like on the inside. We’re taking a mini-city within a city as their “neighborhood” of “Gaj” had 30,000 people in about two dozen buildings. Well, their place was very nice and homey, and they were amazingly gracious and generous hosts for our stay.

Gosia is a high school English teacher in Wroclaw and she was one of those teachers that you always remember from school, full of energy, enthusiastic, and just plain cool. But she asked us a favor in return for our stay and Cheryl and I ended up speaking in front of two of her English classes. The kids in her classes were fascinated with our lives and San Francisco and they even sang a rousing version of Happy Birthday to me as well. Pretty special and unforgettable for sure! The only problem was that talking about all the great things about San Francisco made me homesick, but luckily it only comes in waves. We are slowly appreciating how special our lives were in SF and how lucky we are to live there. But we’re not done with our adventure yet, so onward.

Wojciech was the cook of the family as well as a Biologist, and he made us some great nettles and soup of local plants, that I’m still not sure what they were, but everything was delicious and a nice break from restaurant food. They live at home with their nice 14-year old daughter, Carolina, who showed us around the city and tried to work on her English as much as possible. Wroclaw is an amazingly beautiful and historical city with bridges, cathedrals, and islands, all spreading from the grand old town square. We would have stayed a third night, but I was actually getting really sick and I really needed to rest for awhile.

So we said goodbye and headed on a lovely bus ride through little towns on our way to Jelenia Gora, just on the edge of the Karkonnose mountains. We spent two of the lowest key days of our trip so far just hanging out in the little city and walked up a little gorge to yet another scary old pedestrian bridge that was of questionable integrity and missing numerous cross boards. Always fun, since you gotta love the lack of Lawyers here. We did have a bit of a schedule now, since we had booked our apartment in Prague for 5 nights and only had 3 days to get there.

But it looked like we could cross the border up over a mountain pass less than an hour away by bus, but when we inquired at the tourist office (in German, thanks Cheryl), we were wold there were no buses that crossed the border and that it would involve walking across the border and hiking down into the next town.

O.K. I admit it, when she said this, I couldn’t help but thinking in my mind, yes, NOW THAT SOUNDS FUN. So we walked to the Czech Republic, because after all, I’ll do just about anything for a really good beer.