Back to the west

Getting off the plane in London is almost like being home.  We understand the English (almost always) and recognize the food.  The coffee is very good, and even though we've gotten used to having tea much of the time, we do still like our coffee in the morning.  So, we are pleased to see some coffee shops and the sane traffic as we exit the plane.

Our friends Terry and Ann have a home a few hours away from London, so they meet us at Stansted Airport (we get there via a very efficient and modern bus system) and bring us home.

living room and fire place--warm and cozy

They have a beautiful cottage that was built in the 1500's and which Terry is to be congratulated on for modernizing the conveniences while keeping the original house in its historical shape.  Ann is an artist, so she is the decorator par excellence.  She has many Persian and Turkish carpets on the hand-made terracotta tile floor and original art pieces on the walls.  Our bedroom is dressed in white with white plaster and old timbers with a delicate sea green trim around the doors and windows.  Black wrought iron fixtures complete the look which would fit in any fancy home magazine.

bedroom door

Terry and Ann's cottage--in the sunshine

They take us to Cambridge one day where we enjoy coffee, visit King's college and some of the colleges their children and grandchildren attended as well as enjoy just strolling the streets of the city.  We also go to Bury St. Edmunds where we visit a farmers' market and see the town with its old and new church and have lunch at The Great House in Levenhan.  The old half-timbered houses-cum-stores, colored with different pastels, lean on each other like tired soldiers.  Such a typical English view-just like a page in a storybook.

King's College, Cambridge

Keys College

downtown Levenhan--pretty cute

We wake up to snow, and because the weather is pretty nasty, we aren't going to the coast as planned.  But we enjoy ourselves visiting nearby sites and indulging in the delicious meals Ann plans and cooks for us.  Their little village is full of cute bungalows and cottages, and the church, circa 1086, is pretty spectacular, especially for a small village.  Mary Tudor, sister of Henry VIII, was a member of this church and her entrails were buried here when she died in 1533 (the rest of her was interred in the abbey of Bury St. Edmunds).  She lived in the manor house, about a block from Terry and Ann's house, and the old bridge and moat are still there.

pork pies at farmers' market

the 700-year-old bridge

We walk in the snow to these historical places, enjoying the fresh, crisp air, but we have a 9 hour flight tomorrow and are looking forward to seeing our US family and friends.  We bid farewell to our English friends and start for home, still thinking about India and all we saw and learned there.  Our reflections will follow (for what they're worth).

Terry & Ann's cottage in snow

    

at farmers' market

Delhi

a restaurant sign

We return to Delhi, a little disappointed in not being able to see what we wanted, but we understand that we chose the wrong season for a clear view.  Winter in the far north means clouds, rain and sometimes snow.

a wedding car--perhaps a dowry gift

a wedding wagon

On the way back south, we pass many decorated wagons, band wagons, horses and carts and cars for this is wedding season in India.  Big halls and open fields are decorated with banners, bowers and awnings of brightly colored fabric, forming a tunnel-like entry fit for a maharaja, red carpet and all.  Wedding planning is a huge business in India because the culture requires big parties thrown by the parents.  Doweries can include very costly presents for the husband, and all of it can mean a big expense.

girls selling bangles

We locate our final hotel, a lovely home whose owner rents out the bedrooms.  We must make decisions about luggage and what gets checked in the plane and what goes in carry-on with us.  It's been a difficult 4 days north to see the Himalayas, and we're exhausted.  But a good night's sleep should set us back on track.

Haridwar, Rishikesh, Mussoorie

the Ganges River ghats in Haridwar

We start out for parts north, hoping to see The Ganges River and The Himalaya Mountains.  We're sure the Ganges will be forthcoming.  We aren't so confident of seeing even a peek of that massive mountain range, but we are going to give it our best try.  It'd be better, obviously, if we had planned a few more days in the northernmost town Mussoorie, but we are now down to our last few days in India, and that's all we have left to devote to the trip north.

closeup of ghats

The Ganges (Ganga, as they call it) rolls along at a pretty good speed as we stop in Haridwar to see the ghats.  Ghats are very wide steps, almost seawall-like on the sides of the river that allow pilgrims to get down to the river to bathe.  There are hundreds of people on the ghats and in the water; vendors are selling special rice, plastic jugs of sacred river water to take home, fruit and other foods to consume, flowers to float down the river with prayers, trinkets to buy, beggars asking for some small (or large) donation, and men from the temples collecting money. I give an orange to a little girl asking for money, and she appears surprised but pleased. It's a semi-carnival atmosphere.  People are enjoying their families and friends and seem to be interested in us as we stroll along.  We are taking photos of them, and they are doing the same of us.

wild elephants---would have been fun to see--we looked hard

one of many ashrams in Rishikesh 

We drive on to Rishikesh of Beetles fame (they stayed here for a month or so) and pass by the area of wild elephants' crossing.  We get a photo of warning signs, but, alas, no wild elephants.  The weather is holding as we arrive in town and walk across the footbridge to visit a couple of ashrams and watch the Ganga aarti, the river-worshipping ceremony from one of the ghats.  The Hindu followers chant, sing, and play drums and cymbals as the crowd gathers.  Little flickering candles in flower boats make their way into the river's fast flow;  some stay lit and some burn out.

beginning the Ganga aarti

many candles lit--some to be sent downriver

catching the flow

We move on up to Mussoorie the next day amid gathering clouds.  We pass a beautiful Tibetan temple along the way then a sharp turn and a stunning view of a village built on the side of the mountain with terracing winding down from it.  No rain yet, but clouds are swirling.  Another hour and we emerge from the curving road into the town---just as heavy rains begin.  We check into our hotel and immediately look for the mountain range.  Too late.

Tibetan temple

terraced land

We walk through town in the deluge to find the Tibetan Market, but the Tibetans are smarter than we are--they have stayed home, so the market is not going to be part of our sightseeing tour.  Soaked to the skin, we spot a coffee shop and stop in to regroup and make a Plan B.  As it turns out, Plan B is staying in our hotel room and watching the clouds and rain obscure not only the far mountains, but the closer foothills and even other parts of the town.

2 monkeys trying to stay dry on the balcony

We are trying to dry our clothes and shoes in front of a small heater in the room of our hotel which is British-built (1840), maharajah-renovated and has a beautiful view if the clouds and rain were not obstructing it.  As it is, we can't see the terraced valley we drove by on our way in, the Himalayan peaks above us, or the town of Dehra Dun 5000 feet below us.  Our room is freezing,but I am under the covers,except for my hands, typing this blog, and we are ever-hopeful of clearing in the morning.

our room could have a beautiful view

No clearing, just more rain.  In fact, a thunder and lightning storm arrives in the night.  We awake several times to find the electricity off.  The weather report says no clearing until Thursday, and by then we will be flying to London.  So, too bad, we will just have to return to see the Himalayas another day.

Orchha and Khajuraho, Jan 29--Feb 1

the dark and foreboding Jehangir Palace

some blue tile is left, the rest stripped

These two old villages have some unique architecture. Called Bundela type architecture, the buildings in Orchha, we are told, are the apex of the combination of Islamic and Hindu styles, and the Raj Mahal and Jehangir Mahal are the two 17^th century structures that dominate the town. We are lucky enough to get to stay in Jehangir Palace. It's only about 10% restored; the rest is very dark and imposing, a little spooky in the moonlight with few electric lights around. It's out of town half a mile, and in tall grass and some overgrown bougainvillea, with monkeys playing on the roof and balconies, and cows munching the plants.

It's dark out here!

We are offered dinner on the open balcony, and, thinking it will be a small group of hotel guests, we agree. We are exhausted from the 8 hour drive, so we take a nap, waking a short time before dinner is to be served. We exit our room, which is located on the top floor next to the large open balcony, and find one table set with flowers. I think this is for us. It is a lovely dinner by ourselves with the cool air swirling around, looking at the dark towers around us. I feel like I might be in a book and look for Dracula or some such castle-inhabiting monster.

lots of hidden temples

temple in Khajuraho

Orchha is small and laid-back, so it's a fine place to rest from the crazy traffic we've been embroiled in and just stroll through town. We do that, stopping to look at the market goods, have some lunch, visit some of the other old buildings, walk out to the overgrown, almost hidden temples, and just enjoy the quiet.

musicians at Jehangir Palace

lunch at the market in orchha

beautiful vine at Surya Hotel in Khajuraho

We spend 2 days in Orchha and travel 3 hours to Khajuraho, another small town with some World Heritage architecture covered in sculpture. This is a wonderful rest after the many days of strict schedules. Both towns have some nice cafes and a few things to see. And both towns show us a wedding, the simpler one in Orchha and the fancier one in Khajuraho. Actually, there are two in Khajuraho.

lovely sculpture in Khajuraho

The wedding we see in Orchha is the pre-wedding festivities. It consists of the groom riding a horse and his friends behind and surrounding him with drums announcing the celebration. He looks amazingly sober. Chances are he has not even seen his bride yet; the families have made all the arrangements. So, he may be worried. We asked Jag our driver about this. He told us briefly that arranged marriages are still prevalent in India. Some are “love marriages” but, they don't seem to last as long, according to him. He, himself, has an arranged marriage and will arrange the marriages for his children. He seemed to think that anything else is risky and that marrying out of one's class is the first step to disaster.

Jaq our driver

One of the celebrations we see in Khajurano is before the actual marriage. The groom again rides a horse, but the celebrants have really loud music and bright lights which they keep illuminated with a generator on wheels that follows along. They are obviously inebriated and enjoying their friend's party. The other parade through town is after the marriage and consists of the groom, on foot this time, leading a woman with a scarf that has been tied around her arm. Her face is covered and her head is bowed.  I'm still thinking.....

after the wedding ceremony--a parade

  

Agra, Jan 27--29

detail of carving

Fatehpur Sikri--a stop on our way to Agra

Taj from across river

It's probably some sort of optical illlusion, but the farther away from the Taj Mahal, the larger it appears, and it is impressive at any distance. We see it just casually when we arrive in Agra, driving by and then taking a little hike to a spot across the river from it. We take some photos before the military shoos us away. We bring to his attention that others are also there whom he isn't shooing away, but I guess we look more radical than the normal Indians. We make arrangements, after driving around for quite some time to find the correct office, to visit the Taj at full moon the next night.

our treat for a long drive to Agra

Meanwhile, we do a little shopping and try to find a shop with a little replica of the Taj in marble as well as some other items. We also find a nice coffee shop and enjoy the chance to regroup again while we plan the day tomorrow. Nice Italian coffee is always a treat, although we've had some fine coffee here in India.

it's really amazing to be here

pretty mysterious looking, huh?

We enter the gate a few minutes after 7 am and proceed through the garden area to the inside gate and get a glimpse of the famous building through the Gothic arch. It is swirled in mysterious fog. I use the word mysterious to assuage our disappointment that we won't be seeing it in bright sun light. But it does give an aura of mystery. We spend 2 hours walking around this lovely and romantic building. The marble gleams and little specks of stone glimmer even without direct sun. Inside the dome in the center lies the emperor Shah Jahan's favorite wife; his crypt lies to the side of her. Actually, the real bodies lie in the basement of the Taj and nobody can go down there. Everything is white marble with inlay of carnelian, lapis lazuli, turquoise and malachite in intricate flower patterns and designs. Stunning! We wander for a couple of hours, look at each section (it's smaller up close) take a few more photos and depart back to our hotel for breakfast. We are looking forward to seeing this gorgeous structure in the moonlight.

entering the Agra Fort

Meanwhile, we visit Agra Fort which was built by Akbar in 1565, transformed into a palace, and finished by his grandson Shah Jahan who built the Taj. It had been covered in rich paintings and gold leaf, with Persian rugs and silk curtains. All this opulence was seized by mogul kings as they invaded and finished off by the British.  It is a very large area and is incredible to envision all the rich dressings that adorned the now-plain walls and floors. Still, there are beautiful carvings and jalis, which is a screen carved out of one piece of marble. That, in itself, is pretty unbelievable.

carved from single piece of marble

Some dinner, and then it is almost time for the evening viewing of the Taj. This takes place only 5 days out of a month, the night of the full moon and 2 days before and after it. The moon is rising as we eat dinner, but there is a fog/smog that is forming. Actually, there has been quite a lot of smog, and no wonder; every little group of people make a fire with the trash they sweep up. It's the case in every town and village that we have seen. But since we had to buy our tickets yesterday, and this is our last night in Agra, we must go, smog or no.

the Taj at night--kind of dark but visible

It's a very secure and somewhat complicated way that the Indians have this night visit set up. First, you must buy your tickets ahead of time at a special office; you need a copy of your passports to sign up. Then you must show up an hour ahead of schedule, go through airline quality security and get on a special bus that carries rifle-toting military personnel. They drive you to the east entry gate, you get out of the bus and walk through the gate, but not before your identity is checked again. So, we do all this and finally get in the grounds of the Taj. Just as I suspected, we aren't allowed to go up to the building at all. The Taj is not lit at night, so we are depending on the moonlight which, unfortunately, is not forthcoming because of the smog. Still, there's a very faint glow, and I can get a photo which is visible but barely.

an Indian classic--riding on top of the train

As we leave Agra, we come across a classic Indian scene--a local train with about 300 people on the top.  We've heard about this and we've also seen it in movies, but I never expected to see it in real lifet.  We are so lucky!  

Ranthambore and Keoladeo National Parks, Jan 24--27

coming back from seeing our tiger--we're happy

The sole reason for going to Ranthambore is to see a tiger, but since the chances are only at 22% of spotting one during this season, I do not have high hopes. We arrive at 1 in the afternoon, have a lunch and are off on a safari at 3.

There are 2 kind of vehicles possivble to take on a safari: a 20 person open truck or a jeep for 5. The less expensive is the 20 person vehicle, of course, so we first opt for that one. It's sunny but chilly as we drive out to the national park and enter amid touts selling all kind of souvenirs, especially jackets, hats and t shirts. The roads are 2 wheel tracks and the woods are mostly trees with little underbrush. We see many animals—sambar deer, spotted deer, two types of owls, wild boar, monkeys, gazelles, Indian magpie and about 6 other species of birds. Alas, no tigers. After 3 hours, we turn back and deliver everyone to their own hotel. Tomorrow we'll try again, this time in the morning.

T34

So, at 7 am we again board (this time a jeep) and head to another area with an even narrower track that can't accommodate large trucks. The driver and guide spot some tiger tracks, but the woods, this time, are very dense. There are trees but with tall grass covering the area beneath them. I take a photo of the tiger print just in case it's the closest we get to the real thing. I also take a photo of the narrow lane that we are about to turn on. As soon as we turn, however, our driver comes to a quick halt. "Tiger," our guide says and all heads snap to the left. Sure enough, the tiger that must have been coming toward us, before we turned the corner, has just stepped off the road and into the tall grass. He looks back, and neatly disappears into the camouflage, but I get a quick camera shot off and Terry, who is sitting behind me, takes the camera with the telephoitself to and gets another. The beast is very very big, and as we learn later, he is T34, the largest tiger in the park. What a magnificent specimen! He's about 400 pounds, his back is 4 ft high and he's about 6 ft long plus his tail which is about 4 feet.

With that, our quest has ended, and we make plans to leave tomorrow, happy about it since the hotel is freezing. They're expperiencing an unexpected cold spell and have no heat. Brrr. Maybe Bharatpur and Kaladeo Bird Sanctuary will be warmer.

yours truly there behind the speaker

a 12-year-old dancer

darling school children--and well-behaved

The trip to Bharatpur and Keoladeo National Park starts off calmly enough. It's January 26, India's Republic Day and people are gathered in every town mostly at the school grounds. I ask our driver what they do there, and he says that they mostly pray. But when we pass by in some villages, it looks like there is music, too. I keep questioning him about it, so he finally stops and suggests that I peek into one, which I think is a good idea. So, I walk up to the tall fence that surrounds the school yard, and look inside. At that, some boys see me and motion for me to come in. Thinking I could stand at the back of the small crowd and take a few photos, I go in. But, to my surprise, the speaker at the front of the gathering acknowledges me and announces my visit. All heads turn and a murmur rises. Should I cut and run? No, I go to the front of the assembly, sit down, watch singers and dancers, make a little speech, smile, and wonder to myself how in the world I am going to get away without hurting any feelings. After about an hour and Terry's entry and introduction, shaking hands with everyone who passes by, I whisper to the master of ceremonies that we really need to carry on with our trip. We slip out.

one of the school boys

4 lanes of traffic going every which-way

Pretty soon, however, we run into miles of trucks parked on one side of the road in the left hand lane of traffic.  Jaq finds it very difficult for us to proceed, and we weave in and out, along with the usual road warriors.  Now, however, we have to contend with a one lane road and lots of holiday traffic that includes about 500 trucks.  Venicles are passing on all sides; it looks like a free-for-all.  We need some tranquilizers.  Just another wild and crazy day of traffic in India.

an overloaded truck, too

male blue bull

We arrive in Bharatpur just in time to go to Keoladeo National Park where we take a three mile hike with our guide who points out about 20 different species of birds, many migrating from Mongolia, Siberia and Afghanistan. My favorite is the citron wagtill (he calls it) which is a beautiful bright yellow, but the pink-footed stork is Terry's favorite. The marshland, which is an old raj hunting ground, is quiet and peaceful, a welcome respite from the drive.  It is a world famous bird sanctuary and one of the most important bird breeding and feeding grounds.  We also spot a blue bull, the largest species in the gazelle family; it's about the size of an elk.  A jackal watches us then slips away; we hear him howling a sound like a baby's cry a few minutes later.  As darkness closes in, we make our way out of the park and walk back to the hotel.

some of the goodies at the wedding party

On the way, we pass the preparation for a wedding celebration, and we stick our heads in the fenced in area, decorated with awnings, cloth, and blinking lights.  It is the size of a football field, and all around the edge are booths filled with people who are cooking and serving food.  What an array of goodies!  Indians traditionally spend millions of rupees for wedding ceremonies and receptions, and this one is typical, we are told.  It's pretty amazing.  No wonder parents start saving the minute a daughter is born.  We are shown around, given a sample of something delicious, then we make our way to our own hotel next door for dinner.  The party goes full tilt until midnight.  We sleep peacefully after that, ready to hit the road tomorrow, bound for Agra and the Taj Mahal.

 coming at us from all directions. Just another day of driving in India!