Incredible India - Part 3 - Alipura and Orchha

Day 8 of our trip began by saying goodbye to our drivers and the amazing bus we had had for the past week. Little did we know as we parted company with them how much of a hilarious contrast the next bus would be, or what fate waited us after the train journey between Agra and Jhansi.

This first train ride in India was surprisingly smooth and the train was modern, air conditioned and comfortable. Indian train stations on the other hand are absolutely batshit mental (to the casual western observer). As with many things in India which at first look completely baffling and overwhelming, however, there is a strangely ordered undercurrent to the chaos. It just somehow works.

In my experience, at Indian railway stations, there always seems to be way more people on and around the platform than the station or any of the trains can possibly cope with. Also, people set up like a picnic on the platform itself, by which I mean they lay out a blanket and sleep/eat on it, which generally does not help with the complete insanity going on around them. I am continually amazed and humbled by the way Indian people can and do literally sleep anywhere, it makes me feel like a very precious, coddled person to require black out blinds, total silence and at least 8 hours of uninterrupted rest to feel remotely human.

Anyway, this ‘chaos’ is something which it can be tricky to navigate around with a massive backpack but nobody seems to get bent out of shape when you accidentally step on their blanket or kick their sandal across a platform (ahem). Testament to the wonderfully laid back Indian mindset I think. This mindset tends to momentarily disappear, it has to be said, the moment a train actually arrives, when there will be a full on, elbows out, stampede for the doors like you wouldn't believe. No time for British hesitation or politeness – Jai was an absolute godsend at moments like this, shepherding us, continuously counting we were all there, being very assertive about our seats and luggage and generally just being awesome.

It goes without saying, by the way, that railway station platforms also play host to dogs, monkeys and the occasional cow. You can pretty much assume by now that these creatures make up the background to pretty much every scene I mention, in some description, even when not explicitly stated.

Anyway, this first train ride was only about 2.5 hrs long. We spent the journey reading and watching the landscape and Stu noticed a strange feature of Indian newspapers whereby they print very graphic pictures of unidentified dead bodies with descriptions of where they were found and any distinctive bodily features, to try and get info on who it might be. Strange (and rather unsettling to the casual reader) but true.

On arrival in Jhansi we were due to board a bus for a 3-4 hr journey to Alipura. We shall christen this bus “The Venga Bus” because the experience was rather psychedelic and traumatically memorable, just like the 90s song of the same name.

This is a stock image of what our Venga bus looked like in terms of size/shape. Oh the fun.

It needs to be remembered that it was over 40 degrees outside and there were 10 of us plus luggage to fit into the bus. A very small transit style minibus had been provided - this would have been bearable if the air conditioning actually worked and our new driver was convinced that it did. After the spacious comfort of our previous bus we all found it slightly amusing to cram into the very small space with the blowers seeming to continuously circulate the hot, dry air. Once the bus started moving, we figured, the air con would kick in properly, right?

Wrong. After about 20 minutes, Jai tried to boost morale and give us a pep talk as it was clear we might actually boil to death in this bus. He gave us some inspirational quotes from Mahatma Ghandi about "being the change" and somehow, in a state of delirium, this ended with a line which will stick in my head for all time - “Mahatma Ghandi once said, open the windows m&*$%f*&$s!” 

As we roared with laughter and opened the windows there was a brief respite of the outside air rushing through the parched interior; within 5 minutes, however, it just felt like someone was aiming hot blow driers into the cramped space and we all started to get a little bit heat-strokey.

Isaac got his speaker out at this stage and we turned the infernally hot bus space into a comedy disco, singing along to Nelly’s ‘Hot in Herre’ and ‘I Will Survive’ and ‘Bittersweet Symphony’ and basically getting through the experience with laughter (hysteria/deliria). Isaac also took to wailing “Heeeeelllllpp” out of the bus window as we drove through small villages, much to the confusion of the people on the streets. 

I think all of us were very relieved to finally arrive at Alipura Palace and Jai was straight on sorting out a different bus for the next few days which was reassuring. This was another hotel converted from the royal palace and apparently it is still used from time to time by the local King and his family (though I believe he was not in residence when we visited).

This was one of my favourite hotels that we stayed at during our tour, the building was beautiful and full of character and every room seemed to be different. Ours was huge with a fabulous shower (and plenty of hot water) and a great air con unit right over the bed. There was the prized addition of a kettle and tea/coffee in this hotel room which also scored points and it was quiet outside due to the rural location (no honking horns!).

Alipura Palace

On our first evening we went for a wander round the village with a guy from our hotel and Jai, the people were so awesome again, wanting to talk cricket and brewing masala chai for us and generally being so incredibly welcoming and warm that you really felt like you could relax and enjoy the experience. They invited us to play a full game of cricket with them the following evening and the lads (plus Emma) all duly went. Apparently this became a highly competitive event which much money was placed on. As I understand it, at some point the sledging from Australia got a little out of hand and one of the Indian lads stormed off (well, rode off on a motorbike which I guess is the equivalent). Stu also claims during the same game he “slogged an Aussie for 6” which I believe is a feat he will never let Dean forget. Ever.

Two of Dean's photos from the Alipura cricket match

In the evenings at Alipura Palace we mainly wandered around like fools holding our phones in the air trying to connect to the mystical wifi. Only Bina and Isaac ever seemed able to connect. It seemed mighty strange until we realised Isaac had given a dud wifi password to the rest of us….we couldn’t prove that this was mischief but the suspicion was certainly there….

We also watched a couple of pretty good Bollywood movies on the TV in the restaurant, my particular favourite was 3 Idiots which had a very amusing storyline. The food at Alipura Palace was pretty awesome, my favourite butter chicken of the trip and special mention must be made for their cheese toasties. I am pretty sure the staff here thought our group was slightly unhinged after Jade ordered a cheese toastie and the rest of us saw it and immediately ordered a heap more. Sometimes, when you have been eating curry 3 times a day for a while, the thought of a cheese toastie on plain white bread can do funny things to the mind of a human being raised in the west.

Day 2 here we visited the Karma Sutra temples at Khajuraho. They are quite epic in size and stature and decorated with literally every sexual position and combination of beings you can imagine. Bestiality is not off the table. Neither are orgies. Isaac bought some very amusing and graphic key rings here from Hawkers who can only be described as dogged. A number of them actually stood right outside the door of the restaurant we had lunch in waiting to continue their hard sell the moment we stepped back out. Anyway, thanks to the fact these temples were over grown and off the beaten track when the Muslim crusaders came through many years ago, these ones survived and really are a sight to be seen.

Rude things....

Group shot at Khajuraho

After 2 days based in Alipura we headed to Orchha for a night, a small town closer to Jhansi station where we would be getting the overnight train to Varanasi from the following evening. Orchha is beautiful, set on the banks of the Betwa River and full of historic temples and buildings. Inhabited by rival troops of langur and macaque monkeys who are continuously jumping between trees and rooftops above your head, it is fairly chilled out and has a number of small shops and restaurants you can browse without too much hassle.

Orchha will also retain a very special place in my memory because of Rum Party #2 – aka the night we all seemed to lose our collective shiz simultaneously and indulge in a marathon session of drinking, dancing, laughing and more of the same until 4.30am. What happened in Orchha that night will stay in Orchha that night. Oh, apart from the multitude of video and photographic evidence that exists across peoples phones. Whenever I am having a bad day now I have an immediate memory bank (and physical FB bank) of sheer lunacy to amuse myself with and I think the events of that night cemented our crazy intense bond as a group, some (shareable) moments included:

·         A rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody which involved STUART actually DANCING!!!

·         Bina and Jade somehow procuring beer at 2am from a closed hotel bar

·         Stu following that up an hour later with the procurement of 2 more bottles of rum

Little did we know what was to follow...

The quote ‘You don’t know, man, you weren’t there’ has never been more appropriate in my life.

Breakfast the next day (well lunch, truth be told) was a very strange mix of still-slightly-drunk-and-worryingly-aware-of-it with horrific incredulity at the video/photo footage which seemed to show some kind of crazy frat party culminating in Isaac being sick on the floor of our room to everyone’s amusement.  

It turned out not to be sick (phew). It was spilt beer which he was going to try and lick off the floor. Of course it was. Stu and I both had zero recollection of the smashed bottle or the spilt beer or the resulting series of photographs. I tell you, dear reader, this is the stuff dreams are made of (psychotic, terrible, dreams).

Jai had been very sensible of course and missed the rum party for an early night, though I believe at some point he may have been disturbed and photographed in his bed. Poor guy, he had such a beautiful amount of patience with us at times.

The hangover that eventually caught up with me the next day (the very day I had to get on a freakin’ train for 15 HOURS no less) could legitimately be described as an utter bastard behind the eyes worthy of remark in my eventual obituary. Add this to the cumulative exhaustion, dehydration, stomach upset and the start of a head cold that would plague me for the next week (oh and the 20 or so ‘active’ mozzie bites I had by this point) and I would have happily knocked myself out for the next 24 hours and “come up smiling on Tuesday” instead if that had been a medical option.

Unfortunately for me, there was no such option and as such the most harrowing, hilarious, quite frankly insane chapter of our Indian adventure was about to begin, whether I was ready for it or not…

Incredible India - Part 2 - Tordi and Agra

The bus journey from Jaipur to Tordi was around 4 hours though it felt like longer on some very crazy roads. Once you get out of the cities the "roads" become so rough and full of potholes that you quickly learn not to sit over the rear suspension of any large vehicle. Unless you like being continuously catapulted into the ceiling. One of my enduring memories of the many bus journeys we took in India is the sound of Isaac cackling as he failed to tire of this experience and got thrown around a LOT.

People were also a little tired and sick and so Jai bought bananas and oranges for those of us who had been struggling to eat. I usually avoid citrus fruit due to suffering migraines and I dislike bananas immensely, but I knew I had to eat something and fruit you can peel is a good idea here. I ate my first orange in about 15 years and actually enjoyed it, this was a win! I dropped a couple more hydralyte in my bottle of water and sat back to enjoy the journey, rock and effing roll.

Arriving in Tordi Garh we were intrigued for our first experience of more rural Indian village life. The hotel we stayed at (Tordi Garh Hotel) is the renovated palace of the former local royal family. The rooms we had, on the front of the building, were very spacious with amazing air con (which was definitely needed). They were basic (no TV or fridge) and you are pretty much off the grid here in terms of wifi, but it was for one night only so, you know, #firstworldproblems and all that. 

More of an issue for me was the plumbing in our room, we had no water at all through our taps (like, literally, taps on full bore, not a drop). So we used the plentiful and cheap bottled water and a number of wet wipes (the other major sponsor of our tour) to freshen up. Stupidly we didn't mention this to the rest of our group until later when they all said "why did you not just come and shower in our room?" and we realised it was a dim thing not to check (and also, how awesome were our trip buddies for offering?!). The next morning we had water again (albeit cold) so it wasn't an issue. Showers in India are cold most of the time (in our experience) but when it is over 40 degrees outside this is not usually a problem.

Shortly after arriving in Tordi we ladies got beautiful henna done by a wonderfully talented local woman, she was so quick and steady with the brushes it was remarkable and it was a joy to watch her in action. This was something I had wanted to do for a while and I was very pleased with how it turned out.

My Henna

Henna being applied

After the henna we went for a village walk and met all the kids and people who lived around the former palace, this was one of my favourite parts of our tour, interacting with the locals for a quick game of cricket (the game ended abruptly when the ball went for 6 through an upstairs window of an empty house). Cricket is not just a sport but a religion in India, the kids might not speak as much English as those in the cities but they know ALL the names of Australia's cricket team and the excitement on their faces when you want to play with them makes you realise quite how entitled and spoiled western kids are - all these guys want or need is a ball and some makeshift wickets to be exceedingly happy with their lot.  

Dean bowling for Australia

Our group with the cricket kids in Tordi

During this game of village cricket (and before the ball was totally lost) there was a close encounter with a bull. The ball at some point went over into a closed off courtyard between the houses which Emma and I were stood next to the door of. A small child quickly unbolted the door and shot in to retrieve the ball, he ran back out and left the door unlocked at which point we realised there was a large bull staring straight at us from inside the courtyard. He eyed me and Emma peering at him a bit stunned, saw his escape route and began charging towards the door. We somehow managed to shut and lock the door quickly before he reached it but it was undoubtedly another "Oh, India" kinda moment. 

We then went for a camel cart ride into the sand dunes - for some reason I took this picture of me with a camels arse, I think it was the dehydration kicking in. 

Our camel cart

Once we reached the sand dunes I sort of lost my mind for a moment or two as tiredness and the extreme heat kicked in. It was nearly sunset so it was starting to cool off, but I had now been feeling unwell for over 24 hours and was weak as a kitten and the very, very, last thing I wanted to do was climb up a sodding sand dune at this point. As Stu can attest, I have VERY little patience with sand at the best of times (ironic as we live at the beach). I dislike the way it sticks to everything, the feel of it and especially trying to walk in it. I hit my own mental wall at this point - but as with everything in India (or so it seems) it panned out well in spite of this.

I climbed the first part of the dune but then decided I had had quite enough so I sat where I was while the rest of the group climbed further up to a vantage point. Within a few minutes the son of the camel cart guy ambled up and joined me. He was 4 and allowed me to practice my (terrible) Hindi on him. He was very chilled out for a small child - they usually unsettle me but he was pretty awesome and patiently waited while I consulted my 'Handy Hindi for Dummies' sheet of phrases to figure out his name and age and so on. Then the pair of us sat in mutually agreeable and content silence and watched the sun set for a good 20 minutes. It was so incredibly peaceful and allowed me to just gather my thoughts and breathe and enjoy the moment, it was exactly what I needed at that point in time and I will never forget it. 

To top it off the wonderful guy from our hotel suddenly appeared at the top of the hill too with masala chai and frickin' cookies (for real!). All was suddenly OK with the world.

That night we sat on the rooftop of the hotel and I ate some rice and a small amount of dahl and then the rum came out and we played some music and chatted about the day. Unfortunately, both Stu and I spent that night up and down being ill. We were not the only ones to have trouble sleeping though, rather amusingly, Bina and Isaac had got the air con stuck on 16 degrees in their room and couldn't sleep due to the COLD. Unbelievable when the temperature outside didn't drop much below 30. At 4am they went outside to get warm. This provided much mirth the next day on the bus and there is a hilarious photo somewhere of both of them wearing pretty much all their clothes in the room. 

And so to Agra...

I have to say that the hotel in Agra was my favourite of the entire trip. It had a great shower with plenty of hot water, wifi available (in reception), a TV with BBC World Service and a kettle/fridge. Perhaps this was indicative of the fact that it was also the most text-book-touristy place we visited, a wonderful quote from Jai about Agra which will stick with me and sums this up was that "if it wasn't for the Taj Mahal, nobody would even piss in the direction of Agra".

Agra is very disorganised in terms of roads and traffic, it is also utterly besieged by hawkers and is a strange mismatch of modern chain hotels and falling down buildings. It is clear that it runs entirely on the tourist $ and it was the first place on our trip where I felt a bit overwhelmed by the attention that we got as tourists. It is very hard to continually ignore a small child who has terrible cataracts and is pleading with you to just spend 100 rupees (about 2 dollars) on whatever he is selling. Fair play to Dean who bought 5 small elephant key rings off one child as gifts, only to demand an exchange for one which was "faulty". Much banter and amusement on the bus about that and the child in question gave as good as he got too.

On the first evening in Agra Jai took us to a fabulous rooftop bar with view of the Taj Mahal, many selfies were taken and a few cold beers went down a treat, it would be hard to find a better view from any bar in the world. From this vantage point we could also see the monkeys of Agra moving across the rooftops and settling for the night and the sky was full of kites from the kids playing out in the evening sun. 

The Taj Mahal is indeed as beautiful and impressive in real life as it looks on TV. We saw it at up close at sunrise (the only time Isaac managed to get up this early) and the group wore the Indian clothes we had bought, resulting in some pretty cool pictures and strange looks from the other tourists.

Nadine became a minor celebrity here due to her red hair, she had queues of people taking photos of her and wanting their photo taken with her, she took it in her stride.    

The story of how and why the Taj Mahal was built is very romantic and it is hard to believe how old it is, given how pristine it looks. It was finished in 1653 by Shah Jahan for his favourite wife Mumtaz Mahal in testament to his grief over her death and continuing love for her. Interestingly she was one of 3 wives, but the only one he married for love - he had 14 children with her, whereas his other two (political) marriages bore no children.  

The good thing about getting to the Taj Mahal before sunrise was that it wasn't too hot, as we were leaving around 8am the massive tour groups from other companies were just arriving and it was getting very busy and very hot. Definitely one worth the early start for. 

Late in the day, after breakfast and much needed massages and sleep (and very tasty local samosas shipped in by Jai for lunch) we headed back out to see the Baby Taj and Agra Fort at dusk. Although impressive, these were nowhere near as beautiful as the Taj Mahal itself. I always think Cambodia's Angkor Wat made all other temples seem a bit 'meh' in comparison and I reckon the Taj Mahal does that in India. You simply have to see it for yourself.

After Agra Fort we went to a rooftop restaurant and I nipped to the loo (unisex) only to find the chef himself emerging looking half asleep. On entering the toilet the smell of weed was so strong I nearly passed straight out. Clearly the chef was not hampered by his substantial pot habit as the chicken biryani I had here was incredibly tasty. A novel aspect of this restaurant was that the terrace had treetops all around it and throughout our meal monkeys were jumping about above our heads. I collected around 10 mozzie bites during this meal too, doing my bit for the local wildlife with my delicious blood.

Back at the hotel, rum party #1 kicked off in style. I love the way Jai, our tour leader, was able to procure ANYTHING at any time of day or night via the thriving black market. A guy had sidled up at the restaurant table earlier and taken his order and returned on a moped with 2 bottles of rum a little later. I seriously believe you could buy a granny, an AK47 or a bouncy castle from the wide boys of India without too many questions (not that I am suggesting you would need all 3 at the same time, mind you).

Rum party #1

This party set the tone for other rum parties to follow - someone would volunteer their hotel room (usually us as it turned out) and then at a set time everyone would bring their chairs and glasses from their own rooms and the laughter would commence. Highlights of this particular rum party included:

• The christening of Isaac as 'Campy Segundo' following a rather effeminate latin american dance recital.
• Emma getting very upset when the rum ran out
• Stu describing the Taj Mahal in a very phallic way and leaving Jai literally laughing until he cried. I don't think Jai will ever look at the Taj Mahal without smirking ever again. 

Next morning we were leaving Agra for Alipura which involved a train ride for the first time, so we headed to bed not too late and the Agra chapter of our trip was complete.  

Part 3 - Alipura and Orchha to follow....
    

Incredible India – part 1 – Delhi and Jaipur

Red Fort - Delhi

We have just returned from a trip of a lifetime to India and it stirred every emotion under the sun. At times it nearly broke me, at times I was moved to tears, at times I laughed so much it hurt, I met friends for life, saw sights that defy explanation and experienced a culture so vivid, intense and different to my own that it was life affirming and framed my thoughts in a whole new way. I never really considered that a ‘holiday’ was capable of having this level of impact on a person but I can tell you that it has on me.

I had heard tales of people that “find themselves” in India and those who return year after year or disappear into a yoga retreat for long periods so I figured it must have some kind of magical ability to impact deeply on visitors. Julia Roberts and ‘that terrible film’ have a lot to answer for in painting a narcissistic, hippyish, self-obsessed image of the stereotypical Indian experience. This is not what happened to me. I just had my eyes opened to a country that defies any kind of stereotype, it can be all things to all people, it has the power to redefine who you are but it does not need you. In film version, the (wonderful) Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is a much closer portrait than the ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ depiction (in my opinion).

So, we arrived in Delhi on a very hot Sunday afternoon in late April. I was slightly wired, having spent the flight from KL in a seat with 2 CRAZY women sat behind me who shouted at each other for the whole 5 hours and got up and down around 10 times during the flight, repeatedly whacking the back of my head as they did so. They seemed to think this was acceptable behaviour. I did not. At least there was beer on the flight (though Malaysian Airlines made us share a can!).

Our transfer from the airport was with the Planeterra supported Women on Wheels project which enables women to get their driving license and become private chauffers, giving them independence and confidence and a means of support in society. Our lady driver pulled no punches on the roads of Delhi (a note about the roads of Delhi, I thought they were pretty fucking mental until I had experienced other Indian cities, in context the roads of Delhi are pretty calm and ordered) and used her horn a healthy amount (ie every 10 seconds – restrained by Indian standards). She was not frightened of tuk tuks, cows, the fact that a 3 lane road had 6 lanes of traffic or even the 10 ton lorries doing insanely high speeds and weaving in and out of all of the above.

During the trip between the airport and the hotel we saw:

·         A Suzuki swift containing 8 people get pulled over by police

·         A motorbike with 3 people and a basket of washing and a pig on it

·         A cow standing in the central reservation of the freeway

All of these would later become very normal - we were definitely not in Kansas anymore. Less amusing was the dead puppy outside our hotel; this place challenges your precious, preconceived ideas of what is acceptable so very often that you have to learn to let go of them at times.

Sunday night we met our group for the first time, there were 9 of us: 5 Aussies (including us, the pom contingent), 2 Germans, 1 American and 1 Costa Rican. This was actually the element of the trip I was most anxious about as we knew we would spend every day with these people for the next 2 weeks on a busy itinerary – if any of them were dicks it would have been rather unfortunate.

Thankfully Ganesha was clearly smiling on us when this group was put together and the stars aligned to give us a group that were, across the board, laid back, well-travelled, easy going and very, very funny. I never expected to laugh as much as we did over the course of this trip. From the initial meeting to the final dinner we shared food (we shared LOTS of food), hand wipes, medicines, water, insect repellent, fruit and just about everything we had. Oh and we also shared a heck of a lot of rum. Which was medicinal (or so we were told).

The medicinal rum did not, unfortunately, prevent any of us from getting sick. At pretty much every point during the trip, at least one person was not right. The fortunate thing was that there was a genuine feeling of team spirit and care for each other – fostered by our amazing guide Jai – which ensured that despite the fact people were feeling rough and struggling to eat or keep anything down, we managed to see everything we were meant to and looked after each other through the worst parts. Believe me, a sense of humour and a great deal of pragmatism are essential qualities on this kind of trip through India.

This is our group, our first ‘selfie’ at a hilltop temple in Jaipur as the sun set. I love the bones of these folk. We only need wifi, rum, showers and curry to be completely content. And (as Mahatma Ghandi once said) The Verve – Bittersweet Symphony, which became the soundtrack to our trip and part of a hilarious joke.

L-R - Emma, Eric, Nadine, Isaac, Jai, Stu, Me, Bina, Dean & Jade

Anyway, back to our first full day in Delhi which was a busy one as it was the only full day we had before leaving for Jaipur. We were up and out to visit another Planeterra project, the fantastic Salaam Baalak Trust which helps and supports street kids with education, clothing, food and a place to stay as well as training them to work as tour guides to support themselves in later life. We spent time on one of the tours and then time with the youngest kids currently in the trust’s care, all of them spoke alarmingly good English and they were intrigued by our cameras and phones, wanted to show us their colouring and drawing, were genuinely excited that we were visiting them. It was humbling.

After this we visited the Jama Masjid mosque which has great views over the city and is beautiful and huge. Strangely they made all the women in our group wear gowns over our clothes, though we were all completely covered in preparation, they didn’t ask us to cover our hair though. It felt a little like some kind of bonus way of extracting rupees to be honest, or at the very least, marking us out as tourists ripe for badgering to everyone else.

Next we walked through the streets of old Delhi to a Gurdwara which was beautiful, I covered my hair for this one with a funky purple headscarf and we were allowed in while they were having a ceremony. It was wonderfully peaceful and inclusive, I have a soft spot for Sikhism as I grew up with a lot of Sikh friends and of all the religions it seems to be the most completely focussed on equality throughout. In support of this notion, Gurdwara’s have a tradition of ‘Langar’ which means a common canteen where they will feed anyone, of any background, creed or religion, for free at lunch time. People volunteer to man the kitchens, serve the food etc as their personal contribution to the community and the dahl and roti is basic but tasty. For the homeless and less fortunate these places are a lifeline. They happily fed us too.

Volunteers shaping roti

Langar - roti and dahl

In the afternoon we spent the worst heat of the day in a pleasantly air conditioned mall – there was a Starbucks which seemed very exciting after a few days of only having access to weak nescafe. Once it started to cool off we headed to Haus Khaz and sat on the grass in the middle of the beautiful ruins (in what is now a trendy and affluent part of town) while Jai told us the history of the things we had seen that day. 

A feast for mozzies

A number of mosquitos feasted on me while this happened.

In the Haus Khaz district we went to a Nepalese restaurant for dinner. This was my second experience of Nepalese food and the second time I have disliked what I ordered, this must be bad luck, I should have had the momos (dumplings which were delicious) but I somehow ordered cheese soup with whole chillies in it (are you mad, Nepal? How is this a meal?). I didn't eat very much but lovely folk in my group shared theirs happily and I made a note not to order this terrible dish again.

Next day there was a "kerfuffle" over some toast in the dining room which was incredibly amusing though I am not sure it was meant to be. I felt terrible for having caused such an inconvenience but I couldn't face curry for breakfast on this particular day and there was a toaster and a loaf of bread so I assumed toast was at least a possibility. 

Unfortunately, the toaster was only there for show and on my putting bread in it both waiters looked utterly perplexed. What followed was a 30 minute wait for toast while the waiters tried to find a place to plug in the troublesome appliance. There were no spare plugs. Someone bought an extension lead, it was not quite long enough. Another extension lead was procured following extensive phone calls and shouting. It still did not reach. At this point one of the waiters walked off with the toaster and the bread and (I can only assume) plugged it in elsewhere. This is India, it is entirely plausible that my toast was cooked on the reception desk. What a complete nuisance I am. 

It was sort of like watching Fawlty Towers dubbed in Hindi, which, if nobody has yet done, should surely be created immediately?! The head waiter definitely had a touch of the Basil's about him anyway. 

After breakfast we boarded our pretty awesome bus to Jaipur. We had air con and plenty of space and it was a very comfortable journey - en route we saw:

• An elephant on the back of a flat bed truck
• A crop of marijuana growing behind some public toilets

Arriving in Jaipur, in Rajasthan, India's desert state, the heat was quite insane. We spent a few hours chilling and then headed out to the monkey temple at the top of a hill which had a great view of sunset over the city, that is where the selfie at the start of this blog is taken from.

There were cows and goats and pigs and dogs as well as monkeys at this place and all of them wanted food and petting. Well, actually the monkeys were not so keen on the petting and mainly wanted to rob you of whatever edible delights you were carrying. But the cows, goats, dogs and pigs were happy for some fuss. 

This guy feeds the monkeys every day, they love him.

Looking over the rooftops of Jaipur

That night we went to see a bollywood movie at the famous, art deco Raj Mandir Theatre. We saw "Mr X" which was like an Indian James Bond but with dancing. The samosas were amazing (seriously, all cinemas should offer samosas as snacks!) and the inside of this place was even more spectacular than the outside, truly beautiful. It was so cool to see whole families enjoying this very Indian experience. 

Inside the theatre, v cool art deco design

After the movie, Jai took us to a v nice restaurant (entirely vegetarian) where I had the best aloo gobi of my life. A tuk tuk ride through the streets of Jaipur turned into a race between the three drivers which was mildly amusing and simultaneously very scary indeed. We were still fairly new to the crazy Indian traffic at this point, give it a week and we wouldn't have even blinked...

Next day we were up fairly early and out to see the Palace of the Winds and the Amber Fort before the real heat of the day kicked in. This was where we saw heaps of elephants for the first time, though Stu and I were determined not to ride them up to the fort. Jai told us that there have been changes to the rules around the elephants for their welfare and now each elephant is only allowed to make 3 trips up and down the hill each day whereas previously the poor things had no limits at all. G Adventures does not support this use of animals, which again, for me, underlined why I think they are a fabulous company to tour with. At least now there are limits on how much they do each day and the horrible bull hooks have been replaced by wooden sticks.

Palace of the Winds

Amber Fort

After a morning of exploring we headed to a local fabric maker and bought some outfits for our approaching visit to the Taj Mahal, Bina and Jade bought beautiful Saris and Emma and I bought Indian style tunic tops. This was a really good place to go which again thanks to Jai was not a tourist trap but a seller to retail outlets. There was no hard sell which was nice and they gave us masala chai and let us shop at our own leisure. 

This was the afternoon where I unfortunately got very sick. Ahead of an evening out in Jaipur I became very ill and had to stay at the hotel while Stu headed out with the gang. I kid you not, I was in so much pain with stomach cramps that I just lay on the floor of the bathroom sobbing for a while. It was a very uncomfortable night and meant that any plans for climbing a hill at sunrise the next morning were abandoned (who am I kidding, right!?). One of our group was hardcore (lookin' at you Bina!) and attempted the hill despite being ill, this resulted in a vomit break near the summit. Isaac tricked Emma into thinking he would join her after they drank beers into the early hours. He bailed, Emma was not amused. 

We left Jaipur a few hours after the sunrise walk returned, I could not eat anything so just knocked back some Hyrdalyte (the official sponsor of our holiday) and kept sipping water. We then headed off to Tordi for a night in a local village before heading to Agra. Part two to follow soon....

International Women's Day

Today is International Women’s Day and to celebrate I was lucky enough to be invited to a business breakfast hosted by Senator Penny Wong and sponsored by my employers, UniSA (among others). It reminded me why I love working in Higher Education, a sector where I have always been surrounded by strong, inspirational women and have been lucky enough to receive excellent mentoring, advice and guidance from them. HE is a field where I DO believe that the gender divide is narrowing and where women are treated more equally than in other career choices, which is lucky. It should not feel lucky, though, it should be standard.

Equality and fairness are massive drivers for me – but you know this if you have ever read my blog before, I rant write about it often.

On a day where progress in gender equality is celebrated at the same time as the need to do more is acknowledged, I want to pay tribute to the women who have inspired me and who set the bar exceptionally high in their ability to lead, create, love and celebrate life while kicking metaphorical ass in their chosen professional fields. I am lucky to know all of them and they all continue to amaze and inspire me with their drive, their vision and their passion for life.

My mom – Christine Price.

Since I was tiny I knew I could do whatever I wanted to do because of this incredible woman. I was allowed not to play with dolls (I just didn’t like them) and gender stereotypes were not imposed as standard. I watched her determination to pursue a career whilst juggling 2 children on her own, watched the work she put into her Nurse training and then watched her turn this into a specialism in mental health. I watched her go back to University and graduate in Occupational Health and then get repeatedly head hunted by large private sector firms for her expertise and ability in the field. I continue to watch her fly and am so proud I could burst. In addition to this she is my friend, confidant and source of eternal wisdom. Words just don’t do her justice really.

My Mentor – Jan Gilder

An exceptionally gifted manager and strategic thinker – Jan encouraged me to do my MBA when I worked on her team at University of Wolverhampton. She subsequently guided me through the tough times of completing the course whilst simultaneously mentoring and developing my practical skills in leadership. I have recently been complimented on my ability to inspire loyalty in my team members and this is entirely down to watching and learning from one of the best with Jan. Leaving Jan’s team when I emigrated was so very hard because by that point she was not only my manager, she was my friend, but I would not have been able to do credit to her without spreading my wings myself and she always conveyed such a belief in me that I know she was fundamental to my ability to relocate half way round the world. I owe her my professional ethos and leadership style and so much more besides.

My peer idol – Danielle Lester

There aren’t many people who just “get” why I am so interested in organisational behaviour or can talk with me for hours around the relative merits or holes in methodologies for project management (it’s ok if you are thinking “wtf?!” at this point). Dani is all that and more. She has kicked ass in male dominated fields for many years (Quantity Surveying and Construction Project Management) and she has forged her way in new countries from scratch twice. She is now a PhD candidate at University of Queensland and I am not sure whether she realises how in awe of her I am. Whenever I think I can’t do something I think about the various hurdles and barriers and nonsense that she has successfully navigated and I have never known anyone so completely focussed on getting where they want to be regardless of the difficulties involved. I am motivated to go for my PhD at some point in the future because of Dani. It also helps that she remains grounded, funny and shares my appreciation of good food and wine.

My long time comrade – Claire Davis

Part of my adult “holy trinity” with Dani. Claire has astonished me with her spontaneity, drive and sheer sense of adventure for many years. I should have known at age 19 when I casually asked if she fancied a trip to California in a few weeks-time (and she jumped at the chance) that she shared my love of travel and of new experiences, since then she and I have travelled together many times and had some entirely unrepeatable adventures. On top of her wonderful embracing of a life lived for the moment, Claire totally rocks professionally and has carved her own niche in Australia (where she emigrated on her own with just the clothes on her back) because she is scared of bugger all and believes hard work can get you anywhere you want to be. This ethos has seen her achieve CEO status at the age of 35 and without her my life would not have been half as scattered with funny stories.

Women often find it hard to, or don’t see opportunity to, celebrate each other and their achievements. I believe all of the above women and many more (the key ones listed below) have affected my life and my attitude to it in fundamental ways. All of them have taught me things, all of them continue to inspire me and I take great pleasure in calling them my friends. Tonight I will be raising a glass to these very special women and celebrating their achievements on International Women’s Day - though I wish it was normal to do it all the time (and perhaps we should).

The supporting cast of other impressive, sassy, amazing women who inspire me:

Sarah Taylor – taught me so much about networking effectively and professional integrity whilst wearing high heels. Also introduced me to Chablis.

Rhea Alton – has successfully made a name for herself as a businesswoman and is Director of her own PR company whilst simultaneously raising two small children, this lady proves you CAN have it all.

Emma Taylor – Another super-mum and business whizz – Emma has long been my confidant and a key support through many trying events. I love her like a sister and always will and she is one of the strongest women I know.

Michelle Depper-Westwood – the only person in the world that I am utterly telepathic with in meetings, I don’t think I will ever have such a close relationship with a colleague ever again and I hope one day we are reunited in business.

Fi Cheshire – my Cristina Yang. In Australia I just don’t know how I would have coped if I hadn’t found this amazing woman so early in the journey.

Jacqui Dean – confident, funny, so incredibly engaging and more sarcastic than me (!). Jacqui is someone who I can utterly trust to provide emotional support and/or alcohol and to know which quantities of each are needed at any given time. A fearless traveller and a woman after my own heart. 

       

The Calm After the Storm

I don’t quite know how to start with this one, but last week I started my new job (at last) and finally things are starting to settle into some kind of routine. I didn’t really have time to think about or process this upcoming major change over the xmas and new year break at all. It arrived like an unexpected iceberg that I had somehow missed and threatened to derail me unless I GOT A FUCKING GRIP and breathed normally. I think I just about managed to pull it off.

So, with that in mind, I feel I should explain why my brain has been in such a mess of late. I do not believe it has ever been quite as utterly befuddled in such a comprehensive way as it was over Christmas and New Year. I felt as if someone had filled all the gaps with cloudy water so that there was literally no room to think. I am emotionally and mentally recovering from an incredibly intense few weeks, of the kind that nobody who is not a migrant will understand. Indeed some kind of salve was applied when I discussed the experience with a colleague who had been through exactly the same thing over the same period and she told me equally hilarious and unbelievable tales from her version and we were able to laugh hysterically and thank Christ that it really is just normal to feel like this (right?).

What happened to leave me so completely wired and freaked out, you may wonder? Well, my wonderful, inspiring, vivid and funny family came to stay with us over Christmas and New Year, that’s what. All of the above adjectives are absolutely true about my family, however, they could also be ascribed the following: baffling, exhausting, demanding and OBSESSED WITH INTERNET ACCESS. The last point is in capitals for a reason which will later become clear.

Luckily I believe my family are amazing enough that they will be able to read this and empathise with it rather than disowning me and will be able to laugh at some of the shared memories.  I may be wrong on this assumption though, nothing ever surprises me about people I am related to and their inexplicable/impressive ability to hold grudges to an Olympic standard. I also totally appreciate that this ‘holiday’ threw them into situations that they were equally unfamiliar with, in environments where they were, at times, totally out of their comfort zones and it required intense periods of time with people that usually you see for an hour or two at a time. It would test the patience of a tranquilized saint, I shit you not. All of us felt trapped and pissed off with each other at certain moments, I know this to be true. It does not mean we love each other any less, just that we are a thoroughly normal family. My way of coping is to blog it.

Stu and I have, at least, experienced these periods of intense contact a few times now so we know what to expect and how to handle the rollercoaster; living 24 hours flight time away from where you grew up means that you do indeed spend short but bewilderingly intense periods of time with people because its either that or just never see them at all. At times, the latter option seems like a utopian dream but believe me, the moment you have to handle the goodbyes you realise it is not. It makes for an interesting time and proves many old adages are true about how much you flex for family members and blood being thicker than water, and so on. Every time I have to say goodbye to these amazing people who made me who I am, I panic that I may not see them again and I spend the next week or so moping, sad and bereft at the hole they have left in my life. It does not get easier, ever.

I guess the reason this trip put more strain on us than we were used to was that while we had got into a good rhythm with my mom and step dad (with whom we have spent a couple of holidays over the last few years) on this visit we were also joined by my brother, step sister and nephew and believe me, there is a big difference hosting 5 people from hosting 2. There is also a heap more admin and associated stressing required when you are the people who ‘know’ the country and the logistics because it naturally falls to you to do the organising and the associated herding of people around the arrangements in place. That is not to say I would have it any other way, we had a truly awesome few weeks and I feel like I bonded massively with my siblings in a way that we have never had chance to do as adults before, furthermore and especially significant, I feel incredibly close to my 10 year old nephew and was so very lucky to share some of the most amazing moments of his life with him – money cannot buy those memories.

I reckon that all the emotion and adrenaline we have used over those 3 weeks contributes to this feeling of come down, of exhaustion, of total bewilderment and mental fog – because there was simply so much squeezed into the period that even now my memory is still processing it all, trying to take it in, feeling like I just stepped off a rollercoaster. We swam with dolphins, laughed so much we hurt, snorkelled the barrier reef, sky dived, white water rafted, witnessed my parents renew their wedding vows, ate BBQ until we were sick of it, had Christmas together in 35 degree heat, saw so much wildlife it became almost boring, cruised the sea off Mission Beach at sunset on a chartered yacht, kayaked, swam, played on the beach, talked until late, petted kangaroos and held koalas and applied 3 gallons of sunscreen and insect repellent (ineffectively in my case).

And there were niggles too that go with living in a confined space for so long with anyone that is not your long term partner…so here goes with a few just to balance it out:

Noises that defined the duration of the visit – slamming fly screen doors, feet up and down the hall at all hours, the continual pinging of ‘whatsapp’ messages arriving every minute of every day (internet permitting), the locking and unlocking of our bathroom door (not irritating until you hear it 15 times an hour), the sound of the kettle every 20 minutes from 6am onwards, the bizarre commentary on people playing GTA which I did not even know was a ‘thing’ (my nephew watches this on youtube all the time), smokers coughs, the washing machine – which was seemingly in action 24/7 and now needs a lie down as much as we do.

Things that happened which I am still slightly confused about – my mother managed to break the kitchen pedal bin 4 times. FOUR TIMES!!! I still have no idea how this was even possible. Stu has often pondered the question of where my dyspraxia originates, I present the following evidence in association with the above mentioned pedal bin episode; my mother also managed to a) drop the kettle (the actual kettle) on the kitchen floor and b) have the whole family spend 30 mins frantically searching for her brand new eternity ring (at 9pm on NYE I might add) which she had managed to lose after 3 hours of wearing it (it turned up on the bathroom floor behind the bin). I rest my case.

Things that nearly sent me over the edge #1 – being parked outside a tourist information centre and then being asked quite calmly by someone who has just exited that very building “where is the Skyrail round here?” as if I worked in the building that I was parked outside of and that they had just walked out of. *Note* I believe I answered more questions in this 3 week period than I have in the rest of my 36 years on this planet, ranging from the fairly straightforward ones like “what is a Cassowary?” to the somewhat baffling ones like “will this restaurant be open tonight?” (gesturing at random establishment I have never seen before in my life) which assumes I have some kind of omniscient knowledge which covers all public spaces, shops, restaurants, airports and internet providers across the whole of Australia at all times, I felt like a personal – and less patient – version of google some days though I am flattered that my family clearly believe my knowledge of Australia to be greater than that of the internet. 

Things that nearly sent me over the edge #2 – waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for people to stop looking at their phones and actually engage/get ready for dinner/finish a conversation. This is one of those things where we display unusual amounts of patience and tolerance with family which with our friends we would not.

The day that they all went back to the UK Stu and I felt completely bereft. The house goes from being full of noise and life to being quiet and still. You are surrounded by small bits of them (or in the case of my nephew, bless him, LARGE bits of random food in places you would not expect) and things they have left behind and you cannot stop thinking about the fact that as each moment passes they are getting further away. We have stopped doing goodbyes at the airport because it is just too hard – it is still awful saying goodbye from home, but at least you can literally curl up in a ball and wail for a while if you want to afterwards without negotiating a hideous journey home first. I don’t reckon this bit will ever get any easier.  

And then, just like that, it’s a distant memory and life returns to normal and the 10,000 mile gap is resumed and it takes a while to re-establish the routines but you get there. In a way I do believe that these experiences are priceless and it’s a shame we only have them because we are this far away; thank goodness people love us enough to come all the way out here and make amazing memories with us and to see it as an opportunity to do that. Every time my family visit I learn new things about myself and about them, I hope this never changes and I hope that they know that I love them all so very much - even when they are making me swear.