A few days more in Mumbai and my Bollywood Debut

Saturday May 30 - Friday June 5

Arriving back in Mumbai it was just as hot as we left and having not had access to much news or e-mail while in Nepal we spent a significant portion of our first day back at the Internet place.

The next day though we traveled outside the city about 2 hours to an area called Panvel for the latest Hash running club outing.

We started around 10, and it was all trail running this time, combined with the heat, it made for a tougher journey than normal. Bryan was a good sport though, and sat on the ice like a champ.

Siblings on ice.

That night some of the girls who I volunteered with at One! International came over one last time to the infamous Sea View Hotel on Juhu Beach to say goodbye as Becca was heading back to England and Vikki and Lu to Southeast Asia. Our oldest student, Sunil (the one I tutored to a passing score on his computer exam) also joined us.

Kickin' it at the Sea View on Juhu Beach

I had joked with my friends back home that my main goal in India was to be an extra in a Bollywood film; I'd been hoping to be cast as Tall White Woman #1. As I checked my email I noticed a posting from the Bombay Expats listserv that they needed extras for a shoot on Monday June 1st. Bryan and I figured, why not, so we made it over to the Court House in Bandra neighborhood early Monday morning to join the rest of the westerners who piled on a bus to go a few hours out of town to where an old airplane was stationed in an amusement park parking lot.

It was already nearly 100 Fahrenheit by the time we started, and after the wardrobe guys assigned us our costumes we didn't have it easy--I was wrapped up in jeans, a jacket and scarf while Bryan had to wear a most fashionable plaid suit. Note our Bollywood photo below.

Our Bollywood Attire

Our role as extras was to sit on the airplane and at one point, even look for seats! Sooooo exciting. Bryan did get to sit right in front of the actress though. We think the movie will be released in December and is tentatively called Jihad. This is the IMDB.com link a fellow extra found and sent me.

We got free lunch and 500 Rupees (about $10 U.S.) but more than anything it was fun being on the set and though I am not sure I would do it again (unless I get to watch a dance sequence, then I totally would), it was fun for a day, though it was possibly the hottest bus ride back to the city I have been on my entire time in India.

Bryan left the next evening, and we had dinner with Sunitha and Ashwyn (my friends I stay with in Juhu) before he left. It was a great time, and surprisingly, we did not come (too close) to killing each other as we traveled together. I know though he was looking forward to getting back to Texas and specifcally visiting a certain restaurant that has a lot of meat.

So, we wanted some ice cream while he was here. We got it.

The next few days I spent packing and catching up on last minute travel plans for my upcoming trips to Turkey, Greece, England, Ireland, The Netherlands, and London. I also caught Monsters Vs. Aliens (good movie, but I had bummer 3D glasses) and hung out with Sunitha and even got a free makeover at a mall, much to her amusement! Since I had to be at the airport at 2 a.m. on Saturday, June 6, I joined some of the Hashers on a short pub crawl Friday night, June 5th, (on a doubledecker bus) and stayed up until I reached the airport. The pub crawl on a bus was a good idea, one I may have to pass on for our Denver HippoPUBamus this year.

Riding high on the double decker pub crawl bus.

From the pub crawl it was straight to the airport and onto Turkey. Gobble Gobble!

Trekking it down and exodus from Nepal

Sunday May 24 - Friday May 29

When you decide to go on a trek like this, the possibility of injury is in the back of your mind, but if you are relatively healthy (and in my case, careful though clumsy) it's not something that you give much heed to.

When our guide Wang Chhuk fell a few hours into our short trek on Day Eight, it was like time stood still for a second before everyone was running to him, turning him on his side, checking his heart rate, talking to him to get him to wake backup. Holding his head while wiping blood from his mouth, I calmly urged him to open his eyes.

You can expect a lot of things when trekking, but your guide collapsing, unconscious, is not one of them.

When Wang Chhuk fell we were about 30 minutes to an hour from the guesthouse for the night. He regained consciousness after a few minutes, and after a rest a few of the guys tried to assist him in trekking down, but he passed out again. Reshom (the other guide of the group we had joined with) ran ahead, Norbu (our porter) ran to see if the doctor was in the town we had just passed through, and British Ben ended up carrying Wang Chhuk down piggyback until we got to the guesthouse.

By the time we arrived, though very tired, he had come around and explained this had happened to him a few times before; he likely had trekked too fast and had been dehydrated. He assured us he was fine and did not need to continue out of the trek; we still had a full day's trek ahead of us at least to get back.

He went to sleep and the rest of us went to the natural hot springs--some of the most beautiful hot springs I have ever been to--and were able to unwind and think about what had happened. I was so thankful he was ok--that everyone was--and took in the beauty around me as the hot springs flanked a rushing river.

After trekking back from the hot springs we got a taste of the upcoming monsoon as it began to downpour seemingly out of nowhere.

Yes, we are trying to measure the rain with a can of Carlsberg.

As I drank my beer, I noticed Wang Chhuk and Reshom having beers in the guesthouse kitchen. I went back to join them and soon our entire group along with a few more people from Australia and one from the Netherlands joined in for many beers, popcorn, and the making of an impressive beer pyramid. We remained there the rest of the night, talking, laughing, eating, drinking and ignoring the fact that we clearly were not supposed to be crashing in the kitchen.

Our last day of the trek we split off from Ben, Rob and Reshom as they were doing one more day. I hiked in flip flops the last two days of the trek because of the huge blister on my toe.

Sorry if this is TMI.

Tired and ready to be done, we reached the trail head around 3p.m. and took the always exciting local bus back to Pokhara. We had one last dinner with Wang Chhuk as he was leaving the next day and we were staying one more day in Pokhara. We also got a message from Reshom that they had come back to Pokhara that night after all, so we met up for a few drinks.

The next day the guys braved the barber chair and got a shave and a massage while I, amused, looked on. We went sight-seeing that afternoon, which was a bit underwhelming in Pokhara as the Bat Cave is not what it is cracked up to be, but we did eavesdrop on a wedding.

The last night Ben, Rob, Bryan and I enjoyed some steaks and happened upon a bar with Party Buckets of Booze (seriously, that is what they were called on the menu). Needless to say, the bus back to Kathmandu came a bit too early for me the next day.

Back in Kathmandu I was pretty tired, but we did manage a day trip to Bhaktapur where we saw lots and lots and lots of temples.

Doing a slight paint job in Bhaktapur.

Taming the lion.

I wasn't sure if I was really ready to go back to India but before I knew it, my time in Nepal was up. It was so beautiful, I definitely will plan to go back for another trek again. Now though it was time for a few days in India before heading off to see Abdullah and Libby in Istanbul!

Trekking it up

Sunday, May 17 - Saturday May 23

Our trek began in the pouring rain, not exactly an ideal start but we weren't deterred. We were welcomed by so much greenery, several donkeys, and a lot of calm in the air—the beauty was striking. Our trekking group consisted of Jean and Weibie, a couple from Germany and Ben, a college student from New York state. The rest of our team was made up of guides Pema Sherpa and Wang Chhuk Sherpa, Bryan and my porter 16 year old Norbu Sherpa and for the first three days Lakpa Tamang and Phurba Sherpa rounded out the crew.

There are lots of options for companies and guides to go through to trek. My friend Phil from Denver had trekked with Pema last year, so we decided to go through his company, too.

It may be rainin', but we just don't care.

Some beauty early on.

The first day turned out to be surprisingly easier than we expected; little did we know it would be by far the easiest day of the entire trek. Our first stop was at a tea house called Indra Guesthouse in Tikhedhunga (all the teahouses along the Anapurna Sanctuary Trek are named, usually with names such as “Excellent View Guesthouse”. You can imagine that the view is, well, excellent). Because we did our trek at the end of the trekking season, we didn't encounter that many other trekkers and we were the only group at the guest house that night. Apparently the opposite is true in high season (October through December) when the guesthouses are packed with trekkers.

Bryan is seen here resting (that picture is not staged; we had just reached the guesthouse and had not had lunch yet).

I spent the rest of Day One finishing the first Twilight book and later playing some serious games of Uno with our small group and headed to sleep early; early to bed was to become standard protocol.

Our second day turned out to be picture perfect, and we were lucky to get our first breathtaking glimpse of the Anapurna South peak.

Much of it was uphill on the second day, but we were able to have a delicious lunch (also, normal protocol, the food was great throughout) of veg momo's. The day was put into perspective early for me as a few young girls were climbing the same steps we were, but to get to school. As we huffed and puffed, their little legs carried them up without much problem.

We reached Ghorepani, our stop for the night, later that afternoon very tired, but it was much cooler there as we had gained in altitude. As I had finished Twilight I paid a ridiculous amount for a new book—Shantaram—which at 900 + pages would be no small task to finish (or carry) and my efforts to bargain with the bookshop owner failed miserably. The rest of the afternoon lead to discussion with our guides around the fireplace about previous treks and life in Nepal and Kathmandu and of course, lots of tea.

Perhaps the best part of the trekking was the copious amounts of tea we were able to consume—my favorites being fresh mint with lemon tea and milk tea close seconds. The other best part was the number of times I was able to order chocolate pancakes. But; I digress.

The morning of Day Three we were hoping to catch an amazing sunrise and climb Poon Hill; but alas, despite waking up and getting ready, it wasn't a clear day, so we had to forgo that trip.

Our third day was our last full day with our original group, and it also came apparent that we would continue to see many of the same people along our trek as we went, which was oddly comforting to me.

Photo of our entire group from the first three days of the trek

The day was very misty and foggy for most of it, as evident in the photo below, and the last stretch was tough, but it was worth it as we had a beautiful view of the mountain range where we stayed for the night.

I couldn't quite get over how peaceful it was there, and how much I loved it. Also at this stop I met a woman from England who had recently retired and had also spent a substantial amount of time in India volunteering at a school the past few months.

The next morning I woke up before dawn and was able to get some pre-sunrise shots of the mountain range.

Day Four Bryan and I split off from the rest of the group and guided by Wang Chhuk and Norbu headed off to reach ABC (Anapurna Basecamp). We had near perfect weather again, but it was actually fairly hot, and a lot harder than our previous days (or possibly we were just getting tired...)

We met this trusty stead along the way.

I can't remember what they were drying in the sun, but this man was nice enough to allow me to take a photo of him and his work.

One of the many bridges we crossed.

This is where I got some major BA.

We finally reached Sinewa, our guesthouse for the night, and I couldn't wait as I was starting to have some pain with my big toes, but as I was taping them up, I didn't bother checking too closely. This guesthouse had a common room to eat and hang out, and we met up again with Australian Rob and British Ben who we had crossed paths with the day before and their guide Reshom, and also met fellow trekkers from Israel and France.

Below, a photo of Norbu introducing a small Nepali child to the joys of my iPod.

Day Five and Six brought us trekking with Ben, Rob, and Reshom, trekking in and out of rain showers, taking in many more waterfalls, crossing lots of bridges and some snow before we finally reached the ABC. It was very cold at ABC and a bit rainy, but that didn't stop me from joining in a spirited game of volleyball (who knew people in Nepal liked volleyball so much?) and that night, for a small fee, we were able to heat up the place with a fire under the table in the common room as about 12 trekkers from various parts of the world played cards.

Me and all my boys!

Day Seven was our longest day as we trekked higher early to try and get good snaps of the mountain range, but were met with a lot of cloud cover. Still, it was pretty fabulous to have mint tea at the base of the mountain early in the morning. We trekked all the way back to Sinewa, where we continued the infamous International Uno Tournament.

This Canadian got seriously screwed in UNO.

Ye Ol Farter

Meditation, misery, and a monkey mind
Wednesday, July 15 - Sunday, July 26th

I just got finished serving time.

Granted, I volunteered for my imprisonment; I even applied for it.

The past 10 days (which were, really, technically 12) I spent completing a Vipassana Meditation Course at the base of the Global Pagoda in a northern suburb of Mumbai.

I had to surrender my valuables: phone, money, passport, even the beads I wear around my wrist. I handed over all my goods, and walked outside, surveying the garden of the place that would be my latest temporary home.

"Excuse me," a voice asked. I turned to face the Course Manager. "What do your rings mean?"
I was wearing two rings I bought in Peru last year. They're simple, and I wear them most days.
"Nothing, just my rings," I replied casually.
She met me with a blank stare.
"Do you want me to take them off?" I asked, a bit surprised.
"Yes," she stated frankly. I handed them over meekly to the volunteer holding my bag with my other valuables.
Alright--I could tell this meditation business was not to be messed with from the start.

Some of you may be wondering, what the heck am I talking about? A brief explanation: Vipassana is a form of Buddhist meditation where you take a course for 10 days and learn the process of Vipassana Meditation.

You cannot talk for those 10 days.You cannot drink or take drugs.You cannot kill.You cannot tell lies.You cannot steal.And, you cannot have your phone, read a newspaper, watch TV, or access the Internet. You cannot have pen and paper. You cannout have books. Nothing. You are cut off from the outside world, much like a monk or a nun. Just you, and your thoughts, and you trying to calm your own Monkey Mind.

Why, you may be thinking, did I desire to venture on such a journey? A few reasons lead me to this place.
1) I had read the book "Holy Cow" about an Australian women's expierince for two years living in India, and she did a course, and her account sparked my interest. No talking? Could I DO that?Oh, a challenge! I had thought at the time.In her book, she describes some of the other students (you especially cannot talk or communicate with the other students). One was Crying Lady and the other was Lady who Brushes her Teeth a Lot. I wondered which I would be.

2) I have met people since I have been in India who have done the course, some many times, and who really were rewarded by it. I was curious. What WAS this all about?

3) I saw the pagoda in March and honestly, I was hoping to be able to meditate inside it. It has some of Buddha's relics in it, even!

4) Since being in India, I have not always been reacting to things like I wanted too--I've been stressed, snapped at people, been angry. I wasn't liking these feelings, and I wanted to see if this course would help.

So here I was, amongst about 40 other women, ready to meditate.

Or so I thought.

A rundown of my typical day:

*Wake at 4:00 a.m. (I learned to get up about 3:57 a.m. though, to run the hot water in a bucket so I had a somewhat hot bucket bath versus a very cold one).

*Meditate in the large hall from 4:30-6:30 a.m.

*Eat breakfast at 6:30 a.m. Tons of bananas.

*Nap from 6:54 a.m. - 7:53 a.m. (this was my favorite part of most days)

*Meditate from 8:00 - 9:00 a.m.

*5 minute break

*Meditate from 9:15 a.m. - 11:00 a.m.

*Eat lunch at 11:01 a.m.

*Nap, walk in the garden in circles, stare at the caterpillars, stare at the stray dogs, stare at the flowers, stare at the monsoon rain, from about 11:20 a.m. - 12:54 p.m.

*Meditate again from 1:00 2:15 p.m., in my room or in the hall

*5 minute break

*Meditate from 2:30 - 5 p.m. in the hall

*Have tea and a snack of bananas and salty snack mix until 5:14 p.m.

*Repeat after lunch activity until 5:54 p.m.

*Meditate from 6-7 p.m.*Watch a video discourse from Goinkagi, the Vipassana Guru who brought this form of meditation back to India from Burma, from 7:05 p.m. - 8:37 p.m. It originated in India with Buddha some 25 centuries ago but had been gone for many, many years but stayed alive in Burma.

*Meditate again until 9 p.m.

*Sleep by 9:30 p.m.

*Repeat. For 9 more days. 10 hours of meditation per day.

Yes, 10 hours of meditation per day.

I was starting the countdown from day one. Could I REALLY do this??

From the first evening video discourse, Goinkagi explained that we all have monkey minds, and I laughed. His explanation was spot-on for me. An example of my thoughts (mind you, a very short list):

Boys. Past, present, future. Graduate school, should I go back? Going back to volunteer for three more weeks here. Monkeys. Race car driving. London. Bananas. Would my toenails grow back I lost in Nepal? Boys again. Visiting friends in the states. Who WAS burping so much?? Going back to Denver. Was I ready? What would happen? Hiking to the Grand Canyon. Pizza. Bacon. Playing the accordion. OK, you get the idea. And this continued, etc. etc. etc.

Besides my monkey mind, I had a very literal sore point: I have not tried to sit cross-legged for more than 10 minutes at a time since 1999, pre-knee injury and pre-knee surgeries.

By the end of the fourth day, I knew my title.

I had become crying girl.

My knee pain was maximizing by the minute, and at 6 p.m. on Day Four of Meditation Misery Madness, Goinkagi's voice came over the audio cassette (yes, I said cassette): "You now must sit without moving for the next hour. No moving legs, arms, no moving. At all."

I freaked out.

In my head, I wasn't strong enough for this. What, was I mad? Worse yet, I was going to get kicked out. If I didn't follow the rules, wasn't I going to get booted? And I was in an insane, insane amount of pain.

I tried to fight them back, I really did. But they came. Big, silent tears, for an hour. At one point, I could feel that one of the volunteers had come over. Obviously, my distress had them worried. They ask questiosn when you apply like: "Have you had a major life crisis?" "Are you mentally unstable" etc. etc.

I am pretty sure they thought I lied to them when I had said I was a normal, run of the mill, meditation-seeker.

So, at 9 p.m. I told the teacher my plight--instead of kicking my booty to the ferry back to the mainland, she was understanding, and said they would find me a new spot the next morning to sit.

Little did I know that spot would banish me to the back row, near others who, too, had problems sitting crosslegged (and who were mostly years and years older than me).

And it would lead me to sit next to Ye 'Ol Farter for the next six days.

The move to the back row shifted me away from Snoring Lady, who had been sitting behind me the first four days, and to the left of most of the Burpers. I had liked my old spot, but I already could tell my knees were thanking me, and my mental fears of my knee spontaneously combusting stopped.

But when the farting started, I wasn't quite sure what to do.

A main part of Vipassana says while you are meditating to make sure you are realizing that everything "Arises and Passes Away" and to fight two main feelings that make most beings miserable, Craving and Aversion.

As I sat next to this older lady whose flatulence was to be my meditation partner the next six days I pondered whether I could, indeed, avert my aversion. Some of the stinkers lingered--they did not just arise and pass away so easily.

The days marched on though, and there were other times where I wanted to run away; they make you state your deep intention to not flee at the start, but still, though Goinka-gi reminded us we were, indeed, in Meditation Prison, I knew at the back of my mind if despearte, I could leave.

But really, I didn't want to. I wanted to stick it out. I knew I needed to do this. I needed to figure some things out; I needed to see if I could alleviate myself from some of my own misery, as the teacher told us, as we inflict it on ourselves, even though so often in life we like to blame otehrs for our own negativity.

So I soldiered on. Waking at 3:57 a.m. and eating vegetarian food (which was quite good) and more bananas in the 10-day period than I have consumed in my existence to date. Then, eating the same snack mix and again, another banana, at 5 p.m. (we did not get dinner there). Not talking. Not reading. Not writing.

Just meditating, and when I got distracted, trying not to open my eyes and look around.
I found that soon the farts didn't bother me as much. Maybe this meditation DID work, after all. And I never felt any aversion to the woman; I am all for older people doing whatever they want, and though I found myself fighting back laughter when a few loud ones really ripped out, most of the time I could stay focused.

On the 10th day, we were able to be freed from our bondage and talk, and get our phones back at 10 a.m. Needless to say, no one napped that day. We got a short tour of the pagoda, part of which is being constructed for people to meditate for up to 90 days at a time in individual cells.
I will not be signing up for that.

We traded stories and made connections with each other, and I soon learned that I was not the only Crying Girl and that others, too, had really wanted to run away. Even though we had not talked to each other for those 10 days, it was like many of us were already fast friends. Going through something like this together was pretty major it seemed.

After doing the Vipassana course, I feel overall glad I did it. I'm not ready to say I would do it again, and I am not sure if I will keep up my practice, but I definitely feel more of a sense of peace than I did before going.

This morning (on the 11th day) we had one more meditation session in before leaving, and I was treated to a few more farts from my neighbor.

But I found that there was no annoyance, no anger; just amusement. Because much like misery and much like the monsoon rains, the farts did arise and pass away.

Arise and pass away.

Arise and pass away.

The Global Pagoda, view from the Gorai Creek.

How I felt on like Day 7 or 8.

How I felt when I was DONE!

Barefoot bowling and Voyage to Nepal

Saturday May 9th - Saturday May 16th

I had a few days to catch up with friends and with everyone at One! International after Randy left and before my older brother Bryan arrived in Mumbai. Once again returning to the Sea View Hotel, I first picked Bryan up at the International Airport, fighting my way into a small group of angry cab drivers until I elbowed up to the window and arranged for a pre-paid taxi. I'm pretty sure my brother wasn't prepared for me having to yell and throw elbows straight off the plane, but it's India, and it was necessary.
We did a whirlwind tour of Mumbai the next few days, following on the footsteps of what I had shown Jessie and Randy when they were here, though this time around we were able to witness an army of monkey balloons flying over the beach as the sunset.

The next day we made it downtown eventually, but I first gave Bryan a quick tour of the school where I volunteered at and the area surrounding it. As my latest guest, I again went to Leopold's, then walked to Gateway of India. The next morning brought my second journey to Elephant Island, where we met a fellow American named Thomas who was in India for work but also touring around a bit. This monkey was especially impressive with his corn eating skills.

After touring the caves at Elephanta, the three of us hit up lunch, then drinks, then bowling, then dinner—it was so hot, indoor activities were preferred. I was somehow under the false impression that Indian bowling would differ from back home, but really it was the same, except for that they played even more bad hip hop music (loudly) and we didn't need to wear shoes or socks.

The next day, again swelteringly hot, we made it back up to Juhu from downtown, ran some necessary errands, and I introduced Bryan to Shiv Sagar, my favorite veg fast food chain, where he for the first time had pani puri, sev puri, and masala dosa, proof below:

Finally early Thursday morning we began our journey to Nepal; I had forgotten when I booked our tickets that there was both an International Airport in Delhi and a Domestic one, thus we had to leave Mumbai at the domestic airport and transfer to the International Airport in Delhi. However, all went well and though we had not heard from Pema Sherpa (our scheduled guide in Nepal) he did not let us down as he met us at the airport in Kathmandu with a sign bearing my name (one of my most favorite things is to be greeted by someone holding a sign with my name; this was starting well!)

Pema navigated us over to my friend Amber's place in Boudha (bow-duh), just a short distance from the center of Kathmandu. I had met Amber in Mumbai; she's a film editor from Massachusetts. We settled in, and Amber had to go wrap up some work, but her mom was visiting from the U.S. so she took us to a rooftop cafe near the Stupa in Boudha.

I welcomed the calm.


I had not realized just how intense Mumbai could be, until I sat sipping tea at the rooftop cafe in Kathmandu watching all sorts of people, including monks, walk around the large stupa in a clockwise direction. Despite Kathmandu's pollution, it truly was a breath of fresh air to sit there. That night we also witnessed a peaceful protest in support of Free Tibet and the Dali Lama, and I captured the two images below, a few of my favorites from the day.


The next morning we left Amber and her mom and got a taxi for Thamel, the touristy area of Kathmandu. I was tired, and gave in when the cabbie said that he had a “great suggestion” for a hotel for us. It turned out to not be half bad (though it was a cold shower) but for US $10 a night, it worked just fine. After a tasty breakfast at the small cafe Gaia—bacon croissant—the best one I have ever had, I must admit—we spent the next day using our trusty Lonely Planet—Nepal book to do a walking tour of Kathmandu, including seeing a Toothache God, the main Durbar Square as well as the Swayambunath Temple, better known as the Monkey Temple, which was a good precursor to the amount of stairs we were going to climb once our trek started. Durbar Square had tons of temples, as well as a few babas who befriended me, and the Swayambunath Temple also had shrines to Saraswati (Goddess of wisdom and learning, many students come and pay homage to her before their major exams) as well as an expansive view of Kathmandu.


That night, we filled up on a substantial meal at Fire and Ice Pizza not far from our guest house. Note, we take our training seriously.

We left early for the city of Pokhara the next day and after a long bus ride, we settled into an extremely relaxing day in Pokhara, enjoying some steak, beer, and Bryan purchased some knock-off Northface gear. We had our first meal with our group that night, and my first Dahl Bhat, traditional Nepali food of dahl, rice, and veggies. The highlight was that we got to celebrate with Jean from Germany, who was part of our trek group the first three days, as it was his 50th birthday. Starting off with a party—this seemed exactly like my kind of gig.

Beer for Breakfast and other misadventures

May 1st-May 8th, 2009--Mumbai and Aurangabad, Maharashtra, India

My second visitor in India arrived on May 1^st. Randy is a friend from Denver, married to my very good friend Annie, and they are foster parents to my blue Ford Focus while I am away. Seeing he had work in Malaysia, he decided to pop over to India for a week.

Randy's visit started with some drama even before I fetched him from the airport, as I took a Rik there, and despite the fact Sunitha told the driver in Hindi I wanted to go to the International airport, I was dropped at the Domestic terminal, and before I noticed, I had paid, and my driver was gone. I hailed another ride, and a few minutes into the ride, he said he wanted 500 rupees (for what should be a 30 or so rupee ride). So I get out, angrily, with my pack with me because I had not checked into the hotel yet. Soon another driver offered to take me to the International Airport for 300 rupees, than 200, than 100, until finally a young driver named Sanil agreed to take me there with the meter running, and laughing, practiced his English on me by saying “I am sexy, NO?!?!” and despite the fact I told him three times my name was Leah, he was sure my name was Priya, and that Sanil and Priya are a perfect Bollywood match, and he not-so-debonairly tried to get me to give him a kiss before I left the Rik. Unfortunately, he failed in his quest, but he did succeed in temporarily improving my mood from the sour state it was in 10 minutes prior and I gave him a low-five for his efforts.

I found Randy, and we made our way to Sea View Hotel on Juhu Beach, my home away from home, away from home when I have guests in Mumbai. We started out the next morning with beer for breakfast, which is never a bad choice, and made our way up north to the National Park in town, where we saw some lions and tigers on a short bus safari, but being that it was so hot, we soon headed back for pizza and beer, a bit of shopping, and then a short tour through the Hare Krishna temple. Randy had bought some Johnny Walker Red earlier, and the security person was concerned he was bringing in water. When Randy explained it was “whiskey, not water” suddenly it was OK and he could bring it in. That's my kind of temple.

The next day we did the slum tour of Dharvi like I did when Jessie came, and Randy enjoyed it quite a bit as he was familiar with some of the work that was being done there. To get out of the heat, we headed downtown to lunch at the famed Leopold's and hit up both the National Gallery of Art and the Jehinger Gallery which had a sculpture exhibit, featuring a herd of hippopotami! Obviously, I loved it.

That night we departed Mumbai and headed to a bus station to catch an overnight bus to the city of Aurangabad. The ride was one of the few times I have been cold in India as the AC was pumping, and I neglected to bring long sleeves. After about 8 hours, we arrived.

I had wanted to visit Aurangabad because of the famed Ellora and Ajanta caves, full of Hindu, Buddhist and Jain carvings and sculptures. We headed to the Ellora Caves (about30 kilometers from town) and also to Fort Daulatabad another young tourist named Lim from South Korea.

To the top of Fort Daulatabad turned out to be a good, short hike and though it was hot, it was not a bad precursor for trekking in Nepal I would be doing in a few weeks.

View from Fort Daulatabad

The Ellora caves were very impressive, and being that it was so hot, we saw most of the 34 caves, but skipped a few of the Buddhist caves at the end. The most striking part of the Ellora caves was the Kailasa Temple, which is dedicated to the Lord Shiva and carved from the rock over 150 years by over 7,000 workers—an interesting fact from Lonely Planet is that the Kailasa covers twice the are of the Parthenon in Athens and is 1 ½ times as high.

Lim Stretches as I unknowingly to him take a snap

Kaisala Temple Views

Following the caves we headed back to the hotel for some much needed rest, and that night ran into Lim again and headed off to have thali (link here) at a veg restaurant and some drinks, which later lead to consumption of most of the Johnny Walker Red. Being that it was so hot, we decided to skip traveling to the Ajanta Caves the next day, and instead sorted out our train tickets for the night and visited a weaving center in Aurangabad known for its detailed workmanship; a saree can take a year to make, many other items weeks and months.

Our trip back to Mumbai dropped us off downtown in the Colaba area the next day, and we soldiered on through the heat, checking into our hotel and then making our way over to the Thieves Bazaar (known for antiques) but also into a huge bazaar with lots of food and a butcher area—warning for those who may have weak stomachs—but we not only saw an alley full of garlic (one of my favorite spots ever, as many know, you can never have enough garlic) we also came across some severed goat's heads (aka mutton).

Gross, I know

We next made it over to the Haji Ali Mosque, which at high tide is inaccessible, whether you are coming or going. A small mosque, with many less fortunate lined along its path with various physical deformities, it is a powerful place regardless of your impression. Also, there are vendors selling ice cream bars for 5 rupees (roughly 10 cents U.S.). We were tempted to buy the entire box.

View at Haji Ali (note Randy wiping the sweat off his brow in the bottom left corner)

After a bit more shopping and bargaining and one last beer, we navigated from downtown up north to get Randy to the airport. Like so many times in Mumbai, it was an eventful excursion as our cabbie had said he knew how to get to Juhu but we got annoyingly lost for quite some time. As I was tired and hot, I was rather unhappy (to put it mildly) with our driver and it was as we finally got a Rik on the last stretch before reaching the airport that Randy said to me that I would know when I got back from Nepal if I would return to India past July. As much as I love being here most of the time, I had to admit that the trials and tribulations of just getting around—not to mention the heat, humidity, traffic and pollution—were wearing on my nerves, and I was not feeling like myself. It was time to get out of Dodge. Luckily, I would have that opportunity in less than a week.