Up at 4 and in the lobby by 5 to catch the 6:05 train to Jaipur! It’s about a four-hour journey (barring no delays) and we’re barely able to see out the windows as it’s so foggy/smoggy. Putting our luggage on top of the transport vans that took us to the train station was a bit unnerving, especially when I ended up in a different vehicle than the one that my big backpack was loaded on.
We’re well in the habit of locking up packs and keeping valuables in front of us, but I’m still terrified that someone’s going to run by and snatch my camera out of my hand, or worse, grab my entire daypack. If the latter were to happen, I’d probably just give up and go home. Knock on wood nothing like that happens.
We met the group last night at 5pm at the hotel and so far I think it’s a great group. We’ve got myself and Michael, and the tour leader Dinesh. Melanie, Bob, and their daughter Montana are from California, as is Dan. Julian is from Melbourne, Australia, and Steen and Louisa are a couple from Denmark. Lene and Christina are from Norway, and Danish and Norwegian are similar enough that the five of them (Michael, Steen, Louisa, Lene & Christine) can converse decently between their two languages (although they all speak English as well). Rose and David are from Calgary, so a football rivalry may erupt (although David pointed out that it won’t be as bad as a Canucks vs Flames battle, so it’s good I’m not a huge hockey fan). And lastly, my roommate Shauna is from Belfast, Ireland, where I now have a place to stay! The beauty of travel is that is opens up so many doors for more.
After filling out forms and going through introductions, we met at 6 and took taxis to India Gate. Michael and I went there in the daylight yesterday, when we were exploring New Delhi. It was pretty to see it at night too. It’s a memorial erected in honour of the many soldiers killed in various wars, primarily the first world war. Not that I’ve seen it in person yet, but it reminds me of the Arc de Triumphe.
Yesterday morning, before I met Michael at breakfast, I had an opportunity to check my email on the lobby computer at the hotel. While I was updating Facebook, the man at the desk told me that my family had called the day before but I was out. I was super bummed that I had missed their call, and not even two minutes later he starts laughing and telling me that my family was calling again. Mom had signed onto Facebook at the same time and saw that I had just updated and called the hotel. So nice to speak with mom and dad!
India is insane. And that’s no surprise to anyone. You go forward 11 hours time difference-wise, but it’s like stepping back in time by fifty or more years. I knew there’d be poverty, but I didn’t think it’d be at this calibre, nor this widespread. Endless tin huts and shelters crafted out of whatever they could salvage. People sleeping in every doorway and in the middle of roundabouts and in the train stations and in the street. Kids digging through piles of garbage looking for anything of value, and young children taught to beg and gesture hunger with their fingers.
Many of the people here are tiny, shorter than I am, unlike the Indians in Canada, whom are usually much taller than I am, and often robust in stature. I wonder if it’s nutritional deficiencies stunting their growth. So unusual to see men that are maybe five feet tall at best.
The constant harassment takes its toll; the second you exit a rickshaw, you’ve got three more drivers asking you where to next. They want to make a deal to have you tour the city all day, and they can’t comprehend that you might just want to walk places. When I told one driver that we were walking instead, he replied with “No! Walking is talking and talking is pick pocketing!”
Yesterday I had reached my maximum shortly after noon. We’d been in auto-rickshaws all day and every driver wants to know where you’re from and where you’re going and if you’ve been to this temple and that temple and you can hire him for the day and he’ll wait and you shouldn’t walk. The questions and chatter are endless. We were standing near a busy intersection trying to look at the map in Michael’s guidebook and men kept coming up and asking us a million questions in broken English and it’s impossible to block it out. You ignore them and walk away and they follow you and it’s “Ma’am, ma’am, where do you want to go?” Their persistence is unbelievable. You continually say no and they continually keep asking you questions. Couple that with the excessive street noise due to so many cars and so much honking and I couldn’t take it anymore. We retreated, despite Michael’s reluctance, into a super fancy coffee house and restaurant.
Inside it was noisy with the chatter of voices and the clatter of cutlery, but it was peaceful compared to outside. It was primarily tourists, as I expect many locals couldn’t afford the “expensive” fare, so the constant stares that I was faced with outside were non-existent in the restaurant. I never realized the value of being able to disappear in a crowd, like I am at home, until it was taken from me. Being invisible and blending in here is impossible. Total for our bill: about $30 CND. If we had eaten outside from a street vendor? Probably less than $2. But worth every penny for the temporary sanctuary it provided me.
Traffic here is indescribable. While practically all cars have numerous dings and dents, I’d expect the overall rate of fatal crashes to be lower. I may be wrong though. Lane lines are merely suggestions, and it’s not uncommon to be five or six vehicles wide in a two-lane street.
Whatever a typical Indian’s job is, be it selling peanuts or hocking clothes or cooking street food or begging or charming snakes or repairing cobblestone paths, there is no easy work here. The days start early and end late, and the struggle is often multiplied by children to care for. This is a hard life, and one I don’t envy.
Another moment of solace that I was happy to have yesterday was in the astoundingly beautiful Lotus Temple (aka Baha’i House of Worship). When you enter the temple, complete silence is required. And since everyone’s removed their shoes, it’s serenely quiet. The temple was built for the use of all religions, and is a place of reflection and meditation. Its exterior is made of white concrete, and is nine-sided, in the shape of a (surprise!) lotus flower. The interior is panels of white marble and filled with wooden benches with white marble seats. The outside has several pools of (milky) turquoise water. The entire thing was built by volunteer efforts, and is reminiscent of the Sydney Opera house in its grand sail-like design.
Despite having worked in the tourism for several years, Dinesh hasn’t ever been outside of India (save for Nepal, as his job takes him there). Last night when we were taxiing to India Gate we were commenting on how chaotic the traffic is here compared to home. I said he should come to Canada and see it, and he pointed out that with his wage he’ll never be able to travel. I’d assume that by Indian standards he’s doing well, but it’s a sad reminder that no matter how hard these people work their entire lives, they may never be afforded the same opportunities that we take for granted. Having a dollar that’s worth a lot means I’ll always be able to venture out of Canada. Dinesh could work longer and harder and save more of what he makes and likely never have the same options for holidaying. It’s too bad that things are so unfair.
I’m glad I’m taking advantage of the opportunity while I can, because who knows when it may disappear. I’m also glad my parents have instilled the travel bug in me, and that they’re so behind me going off on adventures. If I didn’t have their house to live in when I came home this trip wouldn’t have been as easy to manage.
We’re nearing Jaipur now, where we’ll find the best jewelry and art. India is amazing.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Day 6 – 3:00am
So much for sleeping through the night as I’d hoped. Sleeping from 10pm to 3am is better than sleeping through the middle of the day though, so I’m getting closer to the time change. It’s an 11 hour difference from home, so I’ve basically flipped my sleep schedule on its head.
Despite how different it is from home here, I’m still comfortable as far as all the necessities go; I’m not hungry, I have a shower at my disposal (albeit the hot water is in limited supply), and so far I’m not sick. All things considered I’m doing better than probably 90% of the population of India.
I wish you could teleport to these extremes, and then retreat to the familiarities of home on a nightly basis. I’d love to be hanging out with dad drinking an MDG right now, but I’ll have plenty of time to do that when I’m home in April. I need to remember that this opportunity isn’t ever going to happen again, and while I’ve been pretty good about it so far, I do miss the little things, like cuddling with my dog.
The Flying Pig’s (hostel that I stayed at in Amsterdam) motto is “home is in your head,” so I’m trying to keep that in mind, as it’s definitely true to a point. Home is also where your friends and family are though, so I can’t fool myself completely.
I realized yesterday that I’ve lost my sunglasses. My brand new, practically unworn perfect Ray Bans. I think I lost them in Amsterdam, and my guess is that they fell out of my backpack at some point, as I don’t think there was any opportunity for them to be stolen. I’m a little bummed, as I really wanted to have decent quality sunnies when I got to the places I’ll really need them (definitely Egypt and possibly Greece), but oh well.
India is foggy. Someone told me it’s because it’s winter, but it looks more like pollution to me. It’s been really cool, and occasionally cold (like in the back of an auto-rickshaw), so I’ve been wearing jeans and a sweater and it’s still too cold sometimes. I knew it wasn’t going to be sweltering, but I thought it’d be warmer than this.
My room is warm now though! The front desk brought me a heater and it’s now nice and toasty in here.
Bottled water is ridiculously cheap, like Rs 20 cheap (about 50 cents), so I’m less concerned about getting ridiculously sick. I just need to be on the ball about brushing my teeth with bottled water, and avoiding any uncooked vegetables, and hopefully I won’t have any major issues. Diarrhea is even more terrifying when you know you’ll be faced with managing it on a squatter toilet.
And so far no malaria! Which is always nice.
I’m meeting Michael at breakfast at 9 today, after which we’re going to head into New Delhi. Hopefully it’s not as chaotic as Old Delhi, but I’m not holding my breath.
Despite how different it is from home here, I’m still comfortable as far as all the necessities go; I’m not hungry, I have a shower at my disposal (albeit the hot water is in limited supply), and so far I’m not sick. All things considered I’m doing better than probably 90% of the population of India.
I wish you could teleport to these extremes, and then retreat to the familiarities of home on a nightly basis. I’d love to be hanging out with dad drinking an MDG right now, but I’ll have plenty of time to do that when I’m home in April. I need to remember that this opportunity isn’t ever going to happen again, and while I’ve been pretty good about it so far, I do miss the little things, like cuddling with my dog.
The Flying Pig’s (hostel that I stayed at in Amsterdam) motto is “home is in your head,” so I’m trying to keep that in mind, as it’s definitely true to a point. Home is also where your friends and family are though, so I can’t fool myself completely.
I realized yesterday that I’ve lost my sunglasses. My brand new, practically unworn perfect Ray Bans. I think I lost them in Amsterdam, and my guess is that they fell out of my backpack at some point, as I don’t think there was any opportunity for them to be stolen. I’m a little bummed, as I really wanted to have decent quality sunnies when I got to the places I’ll really need them (definitely Egypt and possibly Greece), but oh well.
India is foggy. Someone told me it’s because it’s winter, but it looks more like pollution to me. It’s been really cool, and occasionally cold (like in the back of an auto-rickshaw), so I’ve been wearing jeans and a sweater and it’s still too cold sometimes. I knew it wasn’t going to be sweltering, but I thought it’d be warmer than this.
My room is warm now though! The front desk brought me a heater and it’s now nice and toasty in here.
Bottled water is ridiculously cheap, like Rs 20 cheap (about 50 cents), so I’m less concerned about getting ridiculously sick. I just need to be on the ball about brushing my teeth with bottled water, and avoiding any uncooked vegetables, and hopefully I won’t have any major issues. Diarrhea is even more terrifying when you know you’ll be faced with managing it on a squatter toilet.
And so far no malaria! Which is always nice.
I’m meeting Michael at breakfast at 9 today, after which we’re going to head into New Delhi. Hopefully it’s not as chaotic as Old Delhi, but I’m not holding my breath.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Day 5 – Culture Shock
Just… wow. I don’t even know if I can put into words what today was. It wasn’t the piles of garbage in the street, or the hustle and bustle, or the traffic, as I think I was prepared for those. I think what made today so crazy was that I was the spectacle.
People stare at me wherever I go. I know the blonde/purple/black hair doesn’t help the situation much. And while I’ve been stared at in other countries before, it pales in comparison to this.
On top of staring at me, they take photos. Michael, whom I met at breakfast and is also doing the Delhi to Kathmandu tour, first noticed it this morning, when a young boy used his cellphone to snap a picture of me. While I didn’t see it that time, I saw it happen at least a dozen other times throughout the day.
And groups of people stopped me for pictures. Mostly younger boys, probably 13 or 14 years old, but some families too. I was probably stopped a half dozen times for people to take pictures of me with them, and each time they took three or four or five photos, ensuring every member got their turn. [ edit: its E
If this is what it’s like to be a celebrity, I don’t ever want to be famous.
It’s beyond overwhelming to constantly have eyes trailing on you. While at the mosque (I forget its name, it’s a huge Muslim mosque in the centre of Old Delhi) [edit: its English name is the Friday Mosque], I was waiting for Michael to returning from climbing a tower (I opted out, as I was tired and I don’t fare well with spiral staircases). A man stopped and stared at me, completely unabashedly, for at least 15 minutes. What do you do in that situation? And it was clear I was uncomfortable, yet he just stood there, staring and staring.
Most of the people are much friendlier in their gawking though. One family stopped me, and after they had taken pictures with me, the husband asked me to turn around so he could take a picture of the back of my head. I guess the purple is just asking for it though.
#1 rule when traveling in India: determine a price before you do anything. I’ve heard this time and time again, but it’s easy to just jump into something, which makes it difficult to argue the price as you don’t have the option of walking away.
I fell into this trap twice; once, with a snake charmer. Michael and I couldn’t remember what the snakes are, are they cobras? Anyway, he had two, and I got suckered into sitting next to him. The next thing I know he’s putting one of his two supremely venomous snakes around my neck and telling me the price is Rs 2000 (about $50 CDN). He wasn’t even a very good snake charmer. His flute playing sucked. Needless to say, I think we paid him a very generous Rs 500 instead and fled that section of the bazaar before he could protest.
The second time I fell into this trap was with an elephant! Michael and I went to the park that Ghandi was cremated at, and wandered through to the construction area / slums behind it. We spotted two elephants a ways off and eventually caught up to them. Without thinking, I immediately accepted the owner of one’s offer to get on the elephant. It wasn’t until I was getting off that he started demanding Rs 1000. A far better price than the snake charmer, but I’m not paying $25 for sitting on an elephant for one minute, especially since that price is probably comparable to the two- and three-hour elephant rides we’ll see later in the tour.
I’m back in my room after eating dinner in the meeting room with Michael. He’s from Denmark and I’m so grateful he speaks perfect English. I’m also grateful that I could go tour the city with him today, as there is no way I’d have survived it alone.
I’m beginning to doubt my decision to spend six days alone in Mumbai. I keep hearing that there isn’t much to see and that I’d be better off going to Goa. I’m going to see if I can change my flight from Mumbai to Goa instead. Alternatively, I can take a train to Goa from Mumbai, but it’s a 12 hour journey each way, which will eat up two of my days (unless it’s a sleeper car, but I don’t know if I feel comfortable sleeping on a train alone).
Michael and I got back to the hotel around 4 and I slept for a couple of hours. It’s now a quarter after nine and I’m already really tired again, so I’m (hopefully) pretty much adjusted to the time difference. I guess waking up early and walking all day is all that’s needed to shift.
We took a rickshaw and a couple of auto-rickshaws today, which are both not as terrifying as one might expect. And we saw our first traffic accident, which was merely a bumper grazing another. Every. Single. Car. has dents all over it. And the nicest car I’ve seen so far was a brand new Honda Accord. This is not a land of luxury.
The computer’s battery is dying, as is mine. Time to recharge both for another day of India tomorrow.
People stare at me wherever I go. I know the blonde/purple/black hair doesn’t help the situation much. And while I’ve been stared at in other countries before, it pales in comparison to this.
On top of staring at me, they take photos. Michael, whom I met at breakfast and is also doing the Delhi to Kathmandu tour, first noticed it this morning, when a young boy used his cellphone to snap a picture of me. While I didn’t see it that time, I saw it happen at least a dozen other times throughout the day.
And groups of people stopped me for pictures. Mostly younger boys, probably 13 or 14 years old, but some families too. I was probably stopped a half dozen times for people to take pictures of me with them, and each time they took three or four or five photos, ensuring every member got their turn. [ edit: its E
If this is what it’s like to be a celebrity, I don’t ever want to be famous.
It’s beyond overwhelming to constantly have eyes trailing on you. While at the mosque (I forget its name, it’s a huge Muslim mosque in the centre of Old Delhi) [edit: its English name is the Friday Mosque], I was waiting for Michael to returning from climbing a tower (I opted out, as I was tired and I don’t fare well with spiral staircases). A man stopped and stared at me, completely unabashedly, for at least 15 minutes. What do you do in that situation? And it was clear I was uncomfortable, yet he just stood there, staring and staring.
Most of the people are much friendlier in their gawking though. One family stopped me, and after they had taken pictures with me, the husband asked me to turn around so he could take a picture of the back of my head. I guess the purple is just asking for it though.
#1 rule when traveling in India: determine a price before you do anything. I’ve heard this time and time again, but it’s easy to just jump into something, which makes it difficult to argue the price as you don’t have the option of walking away.
I fell into this trap twice; once, with a snake charmer. Michael and I couldn’t remember what the snakes are, are they cobras? Anyway, he had two, and I got suckered into sitting next to him. The next thing I know he’s putting one of his two supremely venomous snakes around my neck and telling me the price is Rs 2000 (about $50 CDN). He wasn’t even a very good snake charmer. His flute playing sucked. Needless to say, I think we paid him a very generous Rs 500 instead and fled that section of the bazaar before he could protest.
The second time I fell into this trap was with an elephant! Michael and I went to the park that Ghandi was cremated at, and wandered through to the construction area / slums behind it. We spotted two elephants a ways off and eventually caught up to them. Without thinking, I immediately accepted the owner of one’s offer to get on the elephant. It wasn’t until I was getting off that he started demanding Rs 1000. A far better price than the snake charmer, but I’m not paying $25 for sitting on an elephant for one minute, especially since that price is probably comparable to the two- and three-hour elephant rides we’ll see later in the tour.
I’m back in my room after eating dinner in the meeting room with Michael. He’s from Denmark and I’m so grateful he speaks perfect English. I’m also grateful that I could go tour the city with him today, as there is no way I’d have survived it alone.
I’m beginning to doubt my decision to spend six days alone in Mumbai. I keep hearing that there isn’t much to see and that I’d be better off going to Goa. I’m going to see if I can change my flight from Mumbai to Goa instead. Alternatively, I can take a train to Goa from Mumbai, but it’s a 12 hour journey each way, which will eat up two of my days (unless it’s a sleeper car, but I don’t know if I feel comfortable sleeping on a train alone).
Michael and I got back to the hotel around 4 and I slept for a couple of hours. It’s now a quarter after nine and I’m already really tired again, so I’m (hopefully) pretty much adjusted to the time difference. I guess waking up early and walking all day is all that’s needed to shift.
We took a rickshaw and a couple of auto-rickshaws today, which are both not as terrifying as one might expect. And we saw our first traffic accident, which was merely a bumper grazing another. Every. Single. Car. has dents all over it. And the nicest car I’ve seen so far was a brand new Honda Accord. This is not a land of luxury.
The computer’s battery is dying, as is mine. Time to recharge both for another day of India tomorrow.
Day… 5? End of day 4 / beginning of day 5.
I’m in India! And I’m totally overwhelmed. I think the realization that I’m 10,000kms from home all by myself has sunk in. Unlike Amsterdam, where English is everyone’s second language and half the people you meet are from North America anyway, this is so foreign. And I knew that coming into it. And I knew I wouldn’t be prepared. And I knew I would probably break down. So I guess I’m doing ok in that sense.
I think getting in at midnight is contributing greatly to the loneliness I feel right now. Loneliness isn’t really the right word. I guess it’s independence that I maybe wasn’t ready for. No better way to change that than to throw myself right into it though, which is why I’m doing this in the first place. No internet doesn’t help either; it’s hard to feel alone when Facebook and email provide a sort of realtime view into the goings-on of everyone at home. I’ll hunt tomorrow in the hopes of finding an internet café so I can check in with everyone.
I’m sitting on the cold tile floor of my ghetto hotel room because the only plug that I didn’t think would toast my laptop is behind the fridge and TV. The outlet in the bathroom started snapping and popping when I plugged my converter in, so I decided against that one.
When I say ghetto hotel room, I mean it. There were stray dogs outside, there is garbage literally everywhere in the street, and the windows face the blank walls of the building next door. So much for “Grand Hotel,” not that I was expecting anything five-star anyway.
I thought the cab ride here might be terrifying, or even possibly the death of me, but after two minutes you realize that everyone drives fast and close, but they also all drive cautiously. Probably 80% of the vehicles on the road were dumptruck-sized commercial trucks and they all had “HORN PLEASE” written on the back of them. Rather than using pesky mirrors or having to strain yourself shoulder-checking, you just rely on everyone else to communicate that they’re beside you by honking or flashing their headlights or both. And it works. I’m surprised we didn’t graze any bumpers, as we were literally inches away from other cars a few times.
The smell inside the cab was reminiscent of the odour that my Bug emitted on one of its bad days, save for ten times worse. But rolling down the window didn’t really help, as it’s a little funky outside too, and surprisingly cold. I knew it’d be cooler as it’s winter, but it’s super foggy and pretty chilly.
I made the mistake of sleeping pretty much the entire flight here (I passed out before takeoff I was so beat), so now I’m wide awake. My sleep schedule basically doesn’t exist right now, and I’ve been surviving off three hour naps whenever I feel tired. I’m here tonight and tomorrow night, and then the tour check-in is at 5pm on Saturday, with the tour commencing the following day. So that gives me a solid two days to try to get a handle on the new time zone. Really wishing I had brought melatonin with me; I’ll try to find some tomorrow. Not holding my breath on that one.
I should recap on the rest of Amsterdam, although I don’t remember exactly where I left off. I planned on taking advantage of a free walking tour that kicked off at 10:30am and went through all the major to-sees in Amsterdam (Anne Frank museum, Van Gogh museum, Red Light District, etc), but that didn’t exactly happen. I had gone to bed at 2am, woke up wide awake at 5am, and then I guess I passed out again around 8am. When I awoke again, it was 1pm and I’d missed the boat on the free tour. So instead, Tamera and Dave (the San Franciscans) and I headed out to wander the city for a bit. Then later that night we went for waffles (most amazing waffles EVER!) and strolled through the Red Light District.
It’s by no means as seedy as everyone implies it to be. I guess if you thought that the whole thing is immoral then it might not sit well with you, but if that’s the case, why are you in Amsterdam? It’s actually really pretty, seeing all these 100-year-old+ buildings, aglow with red lights. It’s probably not a place I’d let a young kid wander through, but the scantily-clad prostitutes pale in comparison to some of the super-graphic images that hang in the porn shop windows.
The main section of the RDL lines a canal, and despite the water being almost completely frozen, it was full of ducks and swans. How they didn’t freeze to death is beyond me.
Speaking of freezing to death, I had to buy a toque and mittens as it was so bloody cold in Amsterdam. They might come in handy though, as apparently Egypt gets cold at night, as can Nepal. And I might be forced to don them in this ice palace hotel room. There’s no heater, so I’m considering cranking the fridge in the hopes that its output will warm up the room a degree or two.
Tomorrow’s going to be another adventure, as I have no idea what part of town I’m even in. I’m hoping some of the other tour group members straggle in tomorrow, so that I can glom onto them for some company.
Oh, and if you ever fly to India and you’re waiting at the baggage carousel for your luggage, don’t. It’s probably all piled up at the end of the hall, so just go look for it there.
Time to crawl into bed and make friends with Shantaram. I’m lugging around a 900+ page book, I better get some use out of it.
I think getting in at midnight is contributing greatly to the loneliness I feel right now. Loneliness isn’t really the right word. I guess it’s independence that I maybe wasn’t ready for. No better way to change that than to throw myself right into it though, which is why I’m doing this in the first place. No internet doesn’t help either; it’s hard to feel alone when Facebook and email provide a sort of realtime view into the goings-on of everyone at home. I’ll hunt tomorrow in the hopes of finding an internet café so I can check in with everyone.
I’m sitting on the cold tile floor of my ghetto hotel room because the only plug that I didn’t think would toast my laptop is behind the fridge and TV. The outlet in the bathroom started snapping and popping when I plugged my converter in, so I decided against that one.
When I say ghetto hotel room, I mean it. There were stray dogs outside, there is garbage literally everywhere in the street, and the windows face the blank walls of the building next door. So much for “Grand Hotel,” not that I was expecting anything five-star anyway.
I thought the cab ride here might be terrifying, or even possibly the death of me, but after two minutes you realize that everyone drives fast and close, but they also all drive cautiously. Probably 80% of the vehicles on the road were dumptruck-sized commercial trucks and they all had “HORN PLEASE” written on the back of them. Rather than using pesky mirrors or having to strain yourself shoulder-checking, you just rely on everyone else to communicate that they’re beside you by honking or flashing their headlights or both. And it works. I’m surprised we didn’t graze any bumpers, as we were literally inches away from other cars a few times.
The smell inside the cab was reminiscent of the odour that my Bug emitted on one of its bad days, save for ten times worse. But rolling down the window didn’t really help, as it’s a little funky outside too, and surprisingly cold. I knew it’d be cooler as it’s winter, but it’s super foggy and pretty chilly.
I made the mistake of sleeping pretty much the entire flight here (I passed out before takeoff I was so beat), so now I’m wide awake. My sleep schedule basically doesn’t exist right now, and I’ve been surviving off three hour naps whenever I feel tired. I’m here tonight and tomorrow night, and then the tour check-in is at 5pm on Saturday, with the tour commencing the following day. So that gives me a solid two days to try to get a handle on the new time zone. Really wishing I had brought melatonin with me; I’ll try to find some tomorrow. Not holding my breath on that one.
I should recap on the rest of Amsterdam, although I don’t remember exactly where I left off. I planned on taking advantage of a free walking tour that kicked off at 10:30am and went through all the major to-sees in Amsterdam (Anne Frank museum, Van Gogh museum, Red Light District, etc), but that didn’t exactly happen. I had gone to bed at 2am, woke up wide awake at 5am, and then I guess I passed out again around 8am. When I awoke again, it was 1pm and I’d missed the boat on the free tour. So instead, Tamera and Dave (the San Franciscans) and I headed out to wander the city for a bit. Then later that night we went for waffles (most amazing waffles EVER!) and strolled through the Red Light District.
It’s by no means as seedy as everyone implies it to be. I guess if you thought that the whole thing is immoral then it might not sit well with you, but if that’s the case, why are you in Amsterdam? It’s actually really pretty, seeing all these 100-year-old+ buildings, aglow with red lights. It’s probably not a place I’d let a young kid wander through, but the scantily-clad prostitutes pale in comparison to some of the super-graphic images that hang in the porn shop windows.
The main section of the RDL lines a canal, and despite the water being almost completely frozen, it was full of ducks and swans. How they didn’t freeze to death is beyond me.
Speaking of freezing to death, I had to buy a toque and mittens as it was so bloody cold in Amsterdam. They might come in handy though, as apparently Egypt gets cold at night, as can Nepal. And I might be forced to don them in this ice palace hotel room. There’s no heater, so I’m considering cranking the fridge in the hopes that its output will warm up the room a degree or two.
Tomorrow’s going to be another adventure, as I have no idea what part of town I’m even in. I’m hoping some of the other tour group members straggle in tomorrow, so that I can glom onto them for some company.
Oh, and if you ever fly to India and you’re waiting at the baggage carousel for your luggage, don’t. It’s probably all piled up at the end of the hall, so just go look for it there.
Time to crawl into bed and make friends with Shantaram. I’m lugging around a 900+ page book, I better get some use out of it.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Day 2.5? - Jet lagggged
It's 6am and I'm wide awake after about three hours of sleep.
KLM were AWESOME! I definitely recommend flying with them. I've got three more KLM flights this trip, and hopefully they're all as great as yesterday's was. Sitting in a cramped metal tube breathing in recycled air for nine hours sucks no matter how you look at it, but between the pretty decent food, super nice attendants, constant flow of drinks (they have free booze but I just made friends with endless orange juice) and a bevy of movie and TV choices on the individual screens, it wasn't half bad at all.
I watched the Ugly Truth. Verdict: Katherine Heigl has a perfect body, weird head, and zero acting skills. Gerard Butler is a beautiful man.
I'm staying at the Flying Pig Downtown hostel in Amsterdam. My roomies are Tamera and Dave from San Fransisco, and Mika/Miki/something like that from Japan.
After settling in, sleeping for a few hours and then getting ready, I headed down to the bar / smoking room. Beer for... k, so the Euro symbol is on my keyboard, but no matter what I press it won't work. Humph. Anyway, huge glasses of beer for 2 Euros and 90 cents. Hung out with Tamera and Dave for a while, got awkwardly hit on by some dudes from Barcelona, and then ventured out into the street with Jeanie from Connecticut to find food.
It's FREEZING cold here! Literally. There's snow on the ground and the walkways are icy. I was wearing flipflops last night, which may not have been the best choice, but thankfully we're right in the middle of everything, so we didn't have to venture far to find burgers.
When I checked in, I grabbed a brochure for free walking tours. Opened it up only to find Donald's picture in it! (Went to high school with him in Mission, he dated a friend of mine, and he's responsible for all my piercings.) He lived here for a while, but I think he's in Berlin now, working as a tour guide. So crazy to see a familiar face in print on the other side of the globe!
I think later this morning I'll take advantage of said free tours. Three hours around Amsterdam, including the Red Light District and Anne Frank's house. Today's my last day here before I jet off to India, but I'll be back in a couple of weeks and then again at the end of my trip. Save for the smokiness, I like Amsterdam so far.
KLM were AWESOME! I definitely recommend flying with them. I've got three more KLM flights this trip, and hopefully they're all as great as yesterday's was. Sitting in a cramped metal tube breathing in recycled air for nine hours sucks no matter how you look at it, but between the pretty decent food, super nice attendants, constant flow of drinks (they have free booze but I just made friends with endless orange juice) and a bevy of movie and TV choices on the individual screens, it wasn't half bad at all.
I watched the Ugly Truth. Verdict: Katherine Heigl has a perfect body, weird head, and zero acting skills. Gerard Butler is a beautiful man.
I'm staying at the Flying Pig Downtown hostel in Amsterdam. My roomies are Tamera and Dave from San Fransisco, and Mika/Miki/something like that from Japan.
After settling in, sleeping for a few hours and then getting ready, I headed down to the bar / smoking room. Beer for... k, so the Euro symbol is on my keyboard, but no matter what I press it won't work. Humph. Anyway, huge glasses of beer for 2 Euros and 90 cents. Hung out with Tamera and Dave for a while, got awkwardly hit on by some dudes from Barcelona, and then ventured out into the street with Jeanie from Connecticut to find food.
It's FREEZING cold here! Literally. There's snow on the ground and the walkways are icy. I was wearing flipflops last night, which may not have been the best choice, but thankfully we're right in the middle of everything, so we didn't have to venture far to find burgers.
When I checked in, I grabbed a brochure for free walking tours. Opened it up only to find Donald's picture in it! (Went to high school with him in Mission, he dated a friend of mine, and he's responsible for all my piercings.) He lived here for a while, but I think he's in Berlin now, working as a tour guide. So crazy to see a familiar face in print on the other side of the globe!
I think later this morning I'll take advantage of said free tours. Three hours around Amsterdam, including the Red Light District and Anne Frank's house. Today's my last day here before I jet off to India, but I'll be back in a couple of weeks and then again at the end of my trip. Save for the smokiness, I like Amsterdam so far.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Day 1 of Sam's Epic Adventure - Departure!
Is it too bold to dub my adventure epic when it hasn't happened yet?
I'm at YVR (thanks for the free wifi!) killing time before boarding. Security was a breeze; no questions, no restrictions, and I didn't even have to take off my shoes!
Will and Dustin accompanied me to the airport via the Canada Line. It was nice to have some company to distract me, and I never get enough time with my brother anyway. Now that I'm here I'm actually calm. I've been freaking out every time I actually thought about what I'm about to undertake, but now that my bags are checked and I'm actually here I'm way more chill. It's missing flights or not having accommodations that has me periodically panicking, but I seem to be ok now.
Or it's the apple martini calming my nerves.
I'm loaded down with American dollars, Euros and Rupees, and with about thirty pounds more luggage than I should have. There's a good chance all of the previously mentioned stuff will not be coming back to Canada. We'll see how I feel about my hair dryer and makeup when I actually have to carry it around all day. The girly girl in me may die a brutal death on this trip.
Getting less than three hours of sleep last night hopefully means I'll be able to fall asleep easily on the plane. Failing that, I'll get liquored. Free booze!
And tomorrow, at 3pm local time, I arrive in Amsterdam, ready to take on the world! And by world I mean the bed at the hostel I'm staying at. I'm gonna be pooped.
I'm officially unemployed! Which is terrifying! Job hunting in April is going to suck! Please hire me as a technical writer!
I'm at YVR (thanks for the free wifi!) killing time before boarding. Security was a breeze; no questions, no restrictions, and I didn't even have to take off my shoes!
Will and Dustin accompanied me to the airport via the Canada Line. It was nice to have some company to distract me, and I never get enough time with my brother anyway. Now that I'm here I'm actually calm. I've been freaking out every time I actually thought about what I'm about to undertake, but now that my bags are checked and I'm actually here I'm way more chill. It's missing flights or not having accommodations that has me periodically panicking, but I seem to be ok now.
Or it's the apple martini calming my nerves.
I'm loaded down with American dollars, Euros and Rupees, and with about thirty pounds more luggage than I should have. There's a good chance all of the previously mentioned stuff will not be coming back to Canada. We'll see how I feel about my hair dryer and makeup when I actually have to carry it around all day. The girly girl in me may die a brutal death on this trip.
Getting less than three hours of sleep last night hopefully means I'll be able to fall asleep easily on the plane. Failing that, I'll get liquored. Free booze!
And tomorrow, at 3pm local time, I arrive in Amsterdam, ready to take on the world! And by world I mean the bed at the hostel I'm staying at. I'm gonna be pooped.
I'm officially unemployed! Which is terrifying! Job hunting in April is going to suck! Please hire me as a technical writer!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Sam's Giant List of Christmas Gift Ideas for Guys!
With Christmas on its way, lots of girls complain that they don't know what to get their boyfriend/significant other (or even dad or brother). I, on the other hand, always had trouble deciding between the thirty different gift ideas I had anytime Christmas or a birthday rolled around. Since I am single this year, I figured I can gift vicariously.
Warning: this is mostly for the super manly dudes. If your guy has a desk job, does yoga and reads the Economist for fun, this list probably isn't for him.
If they have a fave drink, get them a mini fridge and stock it with all the stuff to make it. (Works better if they have a fave mixed drink, like caesars. Then you can stock it with vodka, clamato juice, hot sauce, Worcestershire sauce, pickled beans/asparagus, celery salt, etc etc.) Bar accessories work too; every guy secretly wants to be a bartender. If he owns his own place and loves beer, see what it takes to get a keg installed or check into home-brew kits.
For the musician, get them music stuff (guitar picks, tab books, strings, new case, etc etc). For the aspiring musician, get them a guitar. Or keytar!
For the music listener, there are some fantastic CD box sets out there that often contain unreleased music. If he's into classic rock? Check into turntables and get him the vinyl versions of his fave albums. Search ebay for vintage band t-shirts in his size.
There are also some amazing coffee-table format autobiographies of musicians (or anyone for that matter). They're usually chock-full of glossy photos, so even the guy adverse to reading will still enjoy them.
For the sports fan, you can go with jerseys, limited edition memorabilia (signed football in a case, signed hockey stick, game-worn jersey or helmet, etc), or you can go really overboard and get them a Fathead of their favourite player. You may regret that last one though. Unless it's a Fathead of Reggie Bush omg. In fact, please get me a Reggie Bush Fathead for Christmas.
If feasible, get them awesome seats to an upcoming game.
NFL jerseys are surprisingly inexpensive. So inexpensive in fact that a few Christmases ago when I was shopping for my ex I got him two. At $100 a pop for the official pro-stitched versions, ebay was a scoop and he was stoked to get one for both of his favourite teams.
Does he snowboard and need new goggles or gloves? Or maybe a season pass? Get the two of you a weekend in Whistler with a two-day lift pass. Does he want to take up boxing? Get him a heavybag or speedbag and gloves. Rides motorcycles? See about boots, gloves, helmets or an armoured motorcycle jacket. Golfer? How about new clubs (or *a* new club, they can be pricey), glove or a golf bag.
Does he camp (or want to)? Some guys lose their shit over camping stuff. It's weird. Maybe they just all secretly want the modern world to meet its demise so they can live in the forest and sustain themselves from nature. Anywho, look into a tent, campstove, sleeping bag, cooler, lantern, flashlight, inflatable lounger with built-in cooler (party barge!), etc etc. Hunting knives are usually boner-inducing gifts, even for the non-hunter. Guys like sharp things. On that note, swords make awesome gifts too.
This is definitely for someone with a way higher budget than us average folk, but a friend of mine considered a trip to Vegas with her boyfriend so he could spend two days learning to race at the Lotus racing school. I recall it being around $1200 for two days, so it's definitely not a budget gift.
Guys love watches.
For the dapper dude, cufflinks.
One Christmas I got the ex a remote-control monster truck (the Dodge Raminator!). He spent Christmas morning doing burnouts on the styrofoam packaging. He spent the afternoon cleaning up the mess. Other ideas are remote-control planes and helicopters. The good ones are usually gas powered though, and therefore super expensive, so it will suck when he crashes it five seconds after takeoff. Maybe just get him a non-powered replica of his favourite car/bike/helicopter/plane.
For the movie/TV dude, see about box sets of his favourite flicks or shows, or even check into surround-sound speakers.
For the dude that is constantly wrenching on his truck or is restoring an old car, check into tools that he needs, toolboxes (Costco has really nice stainless ones at decent prices), or upgrading any of his worn out or cheap tools for nicer new ones. Bonus: post a hot picture of you in booty shorts wrenching on his car on the inside of the toolbox lid! If he's got a job that gets him dirty, new Carhartts are always appreciated.
I think starting this New Year the no-talking-on-your-cell-while-driving ban comes into effect. Get him a Bluetooth hands-free adapter.
Book him/the two of you a spa day. Lots of spas are really couple- and guy-friendly, with options for him that have manly titles like "sports massage." Just don't tell his friends that you're taking him to the spa for Christmas.
For the guy that loves to barbecue: apron, (A girlfriend of mine found a sweet apron for her dude, I think from Granville Island Brewery. It has an insulated beer cooler pocket and a bottle opener on a self-retracting cord!), utensils, sauces, or even a new barbecue. Also, there is tons of sports team-branded barbecue stuff out there. But I don't know this. And I totally don't own a BC Lions oven mitts & apron set.
For the wannabe chef, consider high-quality kitchen knifes and a sharpener, new pots and pans, or a wok. If he burns water? Upgrade his microwave.
If he's into it, video games or consoles (and don't forget Wii / Guitar Hero / DJ Hero / Rock Band). For the nostalgic guy, see about an original Nintendo system and Duck Hunt.
More ideas!
-foosball table
-monogrammed flask or Zippo lighter
-cologne
-electric shaver
-clothes (but stay away from boring boxers and socks)
-hats (find out his hat size and go for the fitted ones)
-iPod & iTunes gift cards
-high-quality poker chips, or ever a poker table
-concert tickets
-jewelry
-pool cue for the avid player
-leather jacket
-accessories for his stuff, like a neoprene laptop case, iPhone case, car adaptor for his iPod, DJ-quality headphones
-subscription to his favourite bike/car/music magazine
-a dog
-PVR/Tivo
-sunglasses
-photography stuff (for the beginner, a digital camera, or for the pro, new lenses)
-Swiss Army knife or Leatherman
-art from his favourite artist, or a print of a piece you know he loves
If none of this helps in your search to find the perfect gift for you guy... you're screwed. Happy shopping!
Warning: this is mostly for the super manly dudes. If your guy has a desk job, does yoga and reads the Economist for fun, this list probably isn't for him.
If they have a fave drink, get them a mini fridge and stock it with all the stuff to make it. (Works better if they have a fave mixed drink, like caesars. Then you can stock it with vodka, clamato juice, hot sauce, Worcestershire sauce, pickled beans/asparagus, celery salt, etc etc.) Bar accessories work too; every guy secretly wants to be a bartender. If he owns his own place and loves beer, see what it takes to get a keg installed or check into home-brew kits.
For the musician, get them music stuff (guitar picks, tab books, strings, new case, etc etc). For the aspiring musician, get them a guitar. Or keytar!
For the music listener, there are some fantastic CD box sets out there that often contain unreleased music. If he's into classic rock? Check into turntables and get him the vinyl versions of his fave albums. Search ebay for vintage band t-shirts in his size.
There are also some amazing coffee-table format autobiographies of musicians (or anyone for that matter). They're usually chock-full of glossy photos, so even the guy adverse to reading will still enjoy them.
For the sports fan, you can go with jerseys, limited edition memorabilia (signed football in a case, signed hockey stick, game-worn jersey or helmet, etc), or you can go really overboard and get them a Fathead of their favourite player. You may regret that last one though. Unless it's a Fathead of Reggie Bush omg. In fact, please get me a Reggie Bush Fathead for Christmas.
If feasible, get them awesome seats to an upcoming game.
NFL jerseys are surprisingly inexpensive. So inexpensive in fact that a few Christmases ago when I was shopping for my ex I got him two. At $100 a pop for the official pro-stitched versions, ebay was a scoop and he was stoked to get one for both of his favourite teams.
Does he snowboard and need new goggles or gloves? Or maybe a season pass? Get the two of you a weekend in Whistler with a two-day lift pass. Does he want to take up boxing? Get him a heavybag or speedbag and gloves. Rides motorcycles? See about boots, gloves, helmets or an armoured motorcycle jacket. Golfer? How about new clubs (or *a* new club, they can be pricey), glove or a golf bag.
Does he camp (or want to)? Some guys lose their shit over camping stuff. It's weird. Maybe they just all secretly want the modern world to meet its demise so they can live in the forest and sustain themselves from nature. Anywho, look into a tent, campstove, sleeping bag, cooler, lantern, flashlight, inflatable lounger with built-in cooler (party barge!), etc etc. Hunting knives are usually boner-inducing gifts, even for the non-hunter. Guys like sharp things. On that note, swords make awesome gifts too.
This is definitely for someone with a way higher budget than us average folk, but a friend of mine considered a trip to Vegas with her boyfriend so he could spend two days learning to race at the Lotus racing school. I recall it being around $1200 for two days, so it's definitely not a budget gift.
Guys love watches.
For the dapper dude, cufflinks.
One Christmas I got the ex a remote-control monster truck (the Dodge Raminator!). He spent Christmas morning doing burnouts on the styrofoam packaging. He spent the afternoon cleaning up the mess. Other ideas are remote-control planes and helicopters. The good ones are usually gas powered though, and therefore super expensive, so it will suck when he crashes it five seconds after takeoff. Maybe just get him a non-powered replica of his favourite car/bike/helicopter/plane.
For the movie/TV dude, see about box sets of his favourite flicks or shows, or even check into surround-sound speakers.
For the dude that is constantly wrenching on his truck or is restoring an old car, check into tools that he needs, toolboxes (Costco has really nice stainless ones at decent prices), or upgrading any of his worn out or cheap tools for nicer new ones. Bonus: post a hot picture of you in booty shorts wrenching on his car on the inside of the toolbox lid! If he's got a job that gets him dirty, new Carhartts are always appreciated.
I think starting this New Year the no-talking-on-your-cell-while-driving ban comes into effect. Get him a Bluetooth hands-free adapter.
Book him/the two of you a spa day. Lots of spas are really couple- and guy-friendly, with options for him that have manly titles like "sports massage." Just don't tell his friends that you're taking him to the spa for Christmas.
For the guy that loves to barbecue: apron, (A girlfriend of mine found a sweet apron for her dude, I think from Granville Island Brewery. It has an insulated beer cooler pocket and a bottle opener on a self-retracting cord!), utensils, sauces, or even a new barbecue. Also, there is tons of sports team-branded barbecue stuff out there. But I don't know this. And I totally don't own a BC Lions oven mitts & apron set.
For the wannabe chef, consider high-quality kitchen knifes and a sharpener, new pots and pans, or a wok. If he burns water? Upgrade his microwave.
If he's into it, video games or consoles (and don't forget Wii / Guitar Hero / DJ Hero / Rock Band). For the nostalgic guy, see about an original Nintendo system and Duck Hunt.
More ideas!
-foosball table
-monogrammed flask or Zippo lighter
-cologne
-electric shaver
-clothes (but stay away from boring boxers and socks)
-hats (find out his hat size and go for the fitted ones)
-iPod & iTunes gift cards
-high-quality poker chips, or ever a poker table
-concert tickets
-jewelry
-pool cue for the avid player
-leather jacket
-accessories for his stuff, like a neoprene laptop case, iPhone case, car adaptor for his iPod, DJ-quality headphones
-subscription to his favourite bike/car/music magazine
-a dog
-PVR/Tivo
-sunglasses
-photography stuff (for the beginner, a digital camera, or for the pro, new lenses)
-Swiss Army knife or Leatherman
-art from his favourite artist, or a print of a piece you know he loves
If none of this helps in your search to find the perfect gift for you guy... you're screwed. Happy shopping!
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