Snacky is not the same as Monaco

Snacky, Monaco, Same same, said the shopkeeper.

It wasn't, Snacky has 9.3% sugar, Monaco has 7.3%. Monaco crackers are the closest thing you can get to savoury biscuits in India. They taste a little like 'Mini Cheddars' which for reference are 1% sugar. This is the problem, the Indian sweet tooth invades all food. Western style white bread is almost always sweet, and it's a disappointment to find under your eggs any style. Unfortunately I'm cursed, I can no longer bear the taste of 'sweet salt' biscuits (most of them), so I alternate between Monaco and the pure sweet chocolaty varieties. There is some specialisation, tourist places make chai without added sugar to cater for the variety of tastes (always a shock when you forget and taste chai without sugar).

A classic memory will be the Kamat hotel (meaning restaurant) in Goa. Kamat is a chain which usually offer decent clean South Indian food, and I landed on my feet when the only cheap room I could find (Rs800, it's expensive there) was around the corner from a Kamat. I suspect they have had some complaints about their south thali before from non-Goans, the waiter apologetically produced a bowl of sugar with the meal in case it needed sweetening.

Internet cafe residents

So it turns out some unfortunate spends more time here than I do! I recognise an aged hippy from my previous two visits to Delhi over the last 6 months. He seems to live here and has an arrangement with the neighbouring cafe to have the food brought in. His favourite activity is watching heavy metal music videos and playing air guitar. One hand strumming up and down into his lap, tapping the zip. Viewed from the corner of your eye it's disturbingly like sitting next to someone masturbating.

Christmas in Delhi

So far only two unimpressive santas and one merry Christmas. I consider this the best so far. Bah, Humbug.

Definitions

Not mine but perfectly described by a friend on the beach.

The people over on Paradise Beach were fascist hippies, you know, the kind which look at you funny if you don't have dreadlocks.

Back in India

The beach was nice, I wish I could say the same about Delhi. Cold, and with a blanket smog. Cough.

Indian logic

Sometimes feels like painful ignorance. On seeing the headline "Speeding train runs over 35 people in Bihar" in an Indian paper you might think that the train was going too fast, or in some way at fault. Only late in the article do you discover the small detail that the train wasn't actually scheduled to stop at the station. In India if you stand in the railway track and get hit my a moving train, the train is at fault. In respect of this logic the pilgrims burned the train and seriously beat the driver.

India is Great

The countryside on the bus from Manali to Leh is stunning. It varies between the green vegetation and granite of Manali, streaked with waterfalls, to the other-planet like rocky desert of Ladakh. If you are doing this 16-18 hour journey in one go, it's best to do it in both directions as the first few hours are lost in the dark. If you fancy doing it on a motorbike or bicycle... remember the oncoming drivers on the narrow mountain roads may be so tired they can barely keep track of what they are doing, and propped up with drugs. In my case the bus driver was further stressed by misfortune. On one of the permanent temporary bridges a loose metal plate smashed the fuel tank (at the time I had no suspicions). The diesel drained over the road in just 100m, but with amazing good fortune the last few litres pour over the road just as we pull up into a town. The smell of fuel gave me a clue as to the incident shortly before the noisy pointing crowd that gathered around the bus. The Indian tourists suggest all is over (a new bus from Manali will take half a day), but I joke that this is India, we'll be off in a few minutes with the fuel hose stuffed into a bucket of diesel. And so it is, in a few minutes the fuel hose is cut and loosely sealed into a container of diesel inside the bus using bits of plastic and cloth. Along with the various messy reflillings this ensures a thorough diesel fumigation for the rest of the journey. By the time we reach the muddy climb for the Rotang pass, the drivers eyes look heavy. He sits in the wrong gear in a daydream. In case this trip looks too romantic, remember that being India there will be someone in the front seat is being sick for near the entire journey, giving the left side of a bus a streaky decal.

Indian logic, continued

If your house is a few paces further along the road, make the bus stop again. I don't exaggerate this, even in the smallest cluster of houses the bus will have to stop several times. There isn't any consideration of the time lost by others, or the fuel cost, even by the bus operators. (Most of the time lost in a stop in this case is spent decelerating and accelerating)

Human nature, continued

I meet a man in Ladakh who claims he would rather be part of China. Perhaps I pushed him to it by angrily insisting that Ladakh was part of India, and should follow Indian norms for doing business, but he justified his view. It's greed, China has developed faster and he thinks the pay would be higher. He wasn't willing to accept that as part of a minority culture, be it India, Uyghur or Tibetan, he would suffer discrimination or even repression. Ladakh is mostly Buddhist, and there is a reason the Dalai Lama lives in India.

India as a window on human nature

At a talk on sustainable development, anti-globalisation and welfare themes for ladakh, I see it clearly. The real enemy of environmentalism and even happiness is human nature. As long as wealth is seen as a status symbol, then consuming is progress. As long as we compare our wealth against others, or see our relative wealth as something that makes us valuable, we can't be happy. This struck me when hearing about how low-impact mud houses are rejected in Palestine, and also in India, as these are seen as giving a lower social status than brick or concrete. This dream is clear in India, success is money. Having money means consuming, spending on visible luxuries, houses, cars, televisions. I fear that the cultures which show this, practically every culture in the world, are reflecting human nature. Isn't it clear, in our history money was food, and food is survival. The rich were the 'fittest', and we have yet to shake this off. As a westerner who has rejected money in favour of experience, I am part of a minority. This devaluing of money also occurs in the developed cities of India, but the artists and philosophers are the minority. Recycling and other strategies to reduce impact are just refuges, saving the world means accepting less, in terms of purchasing power. How many people are ready to accept less?

All the schemes and technical solutions to environmentalism are nothing without educating people, not just with information, but changing their very way of thinking.

Indian Common Sense

What do you write on the back of a 'no-entry' sign, 'no-entry' of course. Drop these signs in the middle of a few junctions in Leh so it is ambiguous which direction constitutes the entry and let foreigners try and figure out exactly which roads they can take.

India is Great

typically used in irony

India experiences, tick

Riding on top of a bus on a mountain road. Just amazing.

Ladakh is an amazing place...

Once you leave Leh. Ladakhi people are friendly and helpful, offering advice, lifts and fair rates. Once you escape the fixed rates and high prices of Leh you will encounter the small villages set in the irrigated green valleys leading down to the Indus river. Homestays allow you to stay for between Rs400 to Rs600 per day, including all meals, assuming you eat lunch separately. If its a very small village without an official homestay local people will be delighted to receive this money, and provide generous food.

Revenue of Ladakh

The major source of income into the Ladakh region seems to be government employment, alongside seasonal tourism. As this region lies on the border of China and Pakistan the military presence is significant, and many local people enter the army. (From discussions with the families in many different homestays). Other persons too are largely employed in various government enterprises, which have a high manpower requirement due to serving relatively small communities. In one government school the pupil-teacher ratio is just under 3. Part of the reason for this high employment is the low efficiency resulting from supplying many small communities which are cut off in winter with: education, food distribution and medical care.

Things you don't notice

The official first language of India is Hindi.... but the army signage and frequent motivational slogans are in English. There is also a very occasional Hindi translation for some practical matters such as army shop opening times and conditions. Yes the use of dated British terminology is obvious given the history, but this isn't the national language. (To preempt the debate, while English is a national language some states now teach Hindi exclusively over English, because India is forward thinking and has fully considered the benefits to international trade with all the other Hindi speaking countries)

Defence issue Jam

The Jam at the guest house is marked as "defence issue only, not for public sale". It's probably the first time I have eaten black market Jam, but not so shocking. What strokes my curiosity more is that the black market alcohol is also 'defence issue only'. A most curious quota.

The toilet situation

I'm quite at home with an Indian squat toilet (now considered to be a 'water toilet'), but Leh has introduced me to new standards. At first, the standard, squatting over a gap in the floorboards in a hut. This is known as the 'Ladakhi dry composting toilet' and the human waste is mixed with earth, and used as next years fertiliser. Actually it's not so bad, if you don't miss water; the dry region generally prevents a noticeable smell. On moving to more rural areas the earth is piled up around the gap at a slanting angle. This makes the squat slightly wider and distinctly less comfortable, but at least the earth is close at hand. On the next level, subtract the roof of the hut, as in Ladakh it only rains for a very limited number of days each year. For delux models, subtract the walls, and drop aspect. This essentially leaves you shitting in a hole in a field, with a shovel flush.

Grey water

One of the methods of reducing water consumption in Leh (technically located in a desert) is to re-use 'grey' water. If you want an example of grey water, suppose one man washes his hands, clothes and dishes in a small stream running through the village. A second man a few houses down washes his hands, clothes and dishes in the same stream, and so on... ad infinitum. Perhaps the local authority has seen a possible flaw in this scheme with their prohibition of washing in the streams of upper Leh.

Rate fixing take two

After speaking to the local husband of an Italian woman now living in Ladakh, I have a new understanding of the various 'associations' of Leh. Part of the reason for their existence is to keep business ownership in local hands, and prevent larger tourist operators in Delhi taking control. This seems like something reasonable, to protect local livelihoods in a region with few other Industries. Unfortunately I suspect this second aspect of the associations also breaches the 2002 Competition Act, and is illegal. That's progress folks...

Imported beggars

I'm frustrated on seeing the dark skinned begging women in the street walking around carrying babies, using the standard and persistent "my baby" begging angle. These beggars are not local, or from the next state, they have traveled with (possibly their own) children over 1000km to beg during the tourist season. I asked one of these beggars where she was from and she replied Rajastan. This wasn't my first guess, of Uttar Pradesh, but they are both dry dusty poverty stricken dumps, so it makes little difference. In the traditional Indian cast system those with the darkest coloured skin are often placed at the bottom of society and perform the 'lowest' jobs. But in ladakh, the native population are a largely separate group slightly closer in appearance to Tibetans, and without such an obvious distinction on skin colour. Thanks to migration the worst jobs in town are again held by those with the darkest skin, who will walk up and down in the hot sun all day carrying balloons, or selling drums, for low pay.

Reports and stories of sexual harassment in India

It is impossible to make a single statement on this without judgement, implications and insinuations. Even the act of selecting and presenting the stories and details forms part of this judgement. At my more frustrated moments I would let dark words slip, but now I write simply a list of the stories I have heard. I have tried to avoid including hearsay, and stick only to what I have heard directly from the recipients, and the few cases I have observed myself. I am not without awareness that there are a complex set of cultural norms in India, which foreigners may often breach, but this is only part of the situation. There are many aspects which must moderate any reaction, for example it may also be far more likely to encounter mental illness on the street.
There are two important footnotes to consider on my reporting. 1,2

From an English woman in Dharamshala. She recounts being followed on the road from the next town by a man masturbating and shouting "one kiss, one kiss". She believes the problem has got worse in the 10 years since she first visited India.

From a woman in Dharamshala. She describes being followed through the streets by a man, who continues to follow her inside her hotel. After she has closed the door to her room he bangs and shouts "How much" repeatedly. The Hotel staff are alerted and as you can imagine, the man is vastly outnumbered.

From a Dutch woman in Manali. She recounts how the owner of the lodge where she is staying said "We're full, but you can stay with me" (implying his room). On its own perhaps not so shocking, but he later adds to this and claims to have slept with over 50 tourist girls.

Personally observed. A Russian woman is travelling on a bus in Goa. A man standing behind her seat is staring at her, and making some strange, disturbing and suggestive gesture. He watches her, spits on his fingers and then rubs this on the back rail of the seat, as if rapidly stroking it. He continues this for some time, without distraction.

Personally observed. A rickshaw driver in Madhya Pradesh slows down and leans out of his rickshaw to stare at a young Hindu girl. This isn't subtle, or simply distraction, he is leaning half out of his vehicle making a clear point of eyeing her up from just a few meters distance. She is possibly around 16 years old, and disturbed by this, starts to walk much faster.

From a Swiss woman in Ladakh. When alone in her room, in a house under construction, the construction workers form a crowd around her open door and stare at her in silence. Note 3

From an English girl in Tamil Nadu. She and two other friends leave the city where they are staying for the weekend, and check into a hotel in a city several hundred kilometers away. Later, on returning to the hotel, they discover the receptionist from their previous hotel is inside their room. He had access to their travel plans, and somehow managed to talk his way into the hotel.

From a German girl, recounting time in Delhi. She and a friend are standing on a second floor balcony, an Indian man approaches in the street below, drops his trousers and beings masturbating. Female Indian friends told her she should have thrown something (harmful) at the man.

From an English girl, living in Gokarna. From her experience over several years she recounts how an Indian man staying at the largely tourist location was caught staring into a hut occupied by a tourist girl. This was possible as construction is rarely solid, and some rooms are constructed only from palm and bamboo.

Personally observed. On the tourist beach of Gokarna, where the tourists conform far less to Indian norms, groups of men turn up at the weekends. While normally limited to staring and taking photos, they sometimes form circles around single women on the beach, often followed by the tourists fleeing the situation. In some occasions, especially in the water, there are attempts at touching. It is recounted and I have observed lodge owners persuading offending men to leave the beach, while carrying a machete.

Personally observed. While briefly standing in a road in Delhi with a European woman, she suddenly lets out a shocked 'ow'. An Indian man has pinched her bottom, and walked hastily off before I'm even aware what country I'm in.

Personally observed. A man lies down on a station platform and covers himself with a blanket, he is facing an Indian family with a man, woman and two children. He then masturbates under the blanket, before getting up and walking off. It is not clear which member of the family he was watching.


1. I try and avoid the mistake of some personal reporting of harassment which involves introducing the perceptions of the aggressor. Mentioning whether he was seen as "creepy", "strange" or "unattractive", in general any description to this effect, implies this was a factor in the act transgressing acceptability.

2. I have used girl and woman interchangeably. Reviewing my own unconscious selection it has little correlation to either age or my own intentions. In the modern usage, I see 'woman' simply as formal, and 'girl' informal.

3. This is only an example of the multitude of stories which involve men staring. The consequence of unbroken eye-contact is often fear. This is a broad spectrum of levels of interpreted behavior.

It hardly ever rains in Leh

Except today, yesterday, and probably tomorrow

Intermission

Owing to the formation of a price fixing association by the internet cafes of Leh, illegal under the Indian Competition Act 2002, Amended 2007, blogging is a rather expensive activity without a laptop. I commend the cafes on selecting a business model which is both illegal, and will fail in the face of increasingly available free WiFi.

Hiring a motorbike in Leh

Not as easy as it sounds. Seeking a good ride I only consider the newer and higher performing (by Indian standards) bikes available. On the menu for today

A crash damaged Yamama FZS, with the instruments held on by about 10 pieces of sellotape, just about. Even as far as sticky tape jobs go its a poor effort.

Two new Yamaha FZS bikes, without any obvious damage, or for that matter any markings on their number-plates. Apparently the excuse "because its new" flies here. Not even the temporary dealer plates... In their usual intent to flatly lie in the face of reality, I'm assured that it doesn't matter, despite having my plates recorded at each checkpoint on my last adventure in Ladakh.

Some poorly maintained Pulsar 200NS bikes, one missing one side guard... crash damage I'm guessing then, and with dirty spark plugs. There doesn't seem to be any incentive to maintain the bikes. Spending an hour with one of these bikes at a garage might have to be it...

It's also worth noting that the motorbike hire shops of Leh have also formed their own illegal rate fixing association, everyone is in on it. Thankfully the Indian built Japanese designed bikes don't carry the premium of the Royal Enfield Classic 500CC (roughly double all other models).

Manali is quiet

There are few people here... The hotel owners blame the floods in a completely unrelated part of north India for scaring off the tourists. I managed to keep silent and not mention that the gang rapes might also have had something to do with it. It's strange, it's a beautiful place surrounded by mountains and valleys, and the weather is perfect. Sadly this means that the beggar menace now outnumbers worthwhile uses of carbon. No I haven't joined the rich and started to hate the poor, the beggars you see in India are more often profiteering potential medical experiment subjects in my future totalitarian world... but that is another daydream

Sweet sounds of the neighbour

On discovering yet another hotel room with a bathroom which vents into... someone else's bathroom, I have come to the conclusion that Indians actually have a closet fetish to listen to each others bowel movements. Naturally such a desire could never be voiced, but is silently included by design.

Road Safety, Indian Style

I've mentioned, building fast roads and then sticking speed humps on them is about the norm in India. To make the ride more interesting, official speed limits on many roads, including single lane roads, are different for each type of vehicle. As even the lowest logician will notice, this leads to a problem which can only be solved by overtaking. It just so happens that overtaking in India is often one of the most frightening experiences of your trip. Motorcycles are also often set limits 10km/h below other vehicles, forcing them to adopt vulnerable positions at the side of the road. Maybe there is some data to back up the improved safety from this scheme... but as nobody in India actually follows the speed limit I'd question what the study really indicated. Coming from a country which is not so far off the best road safety levels seen in Europe, and even globally, for once I can say, 'yes, what is familiar, might just also be right'.

Lonely Planet India (Italiano)

You willa not lika the food. Stay with mamma, mamma cook you something gooda tonight.

Safety note: You may find you become ill after ignoring all given food advice in favour of choosing the dish you like the description of.

Editors note: Sadly, there seems to be a misprint in some previous revisions of Lonely Planet India (Italiano). For all locations, all restaurants are now considered unsuitable.

The overcrowded world of Soylent Green is here

It's India. At night you see it, people asleep on the main road between the lanes, on pavements, in gutters, on benches. The population growth is at best linear, at worst it calls for the people trucks..

It's starting to feel like home. The routine, the people, the changes. Somehow the touts and the beggars recognise an India-hardened out-of-season bum. I have another agreeing voice, the National Gallery of Modern Art is one of the must see places in Delhi.

If you want to see trapped minds, watch the passive aggressive cleaning staff of New Delhi Airport try and wipe out passengers with their cleaning vehicles. The trolley shifters take this to the next level by creating near unstoppable trains of trolleys, of almost unbelievable length and handled by up to 6 staff. These inevitably lead to collisions and humorous interruptions of the passengers leaving the gates.

Chitlang trek

In searching for the nearest lake to Kathmandu to swim I discovered both a beautiful lake and a pleasant trek. If you ever end up sat in Kathmandu, consider Thankot-Chitlang-Kulekhani. It meets my standards of perfection, being easy enough to walk without preparation and free of other tourists (at least at the start of the rains). Also it gets you out of Kathmandu...

There is a bus to Thankot from the city bus stand, and it takes about 30 minutes, depending on the normal waiting for passengers routine. Once you arrive you want to head south, it's a small road up the hill, any local will point you in the right direction if you ask for Chitlang. By chance I met a local walking home to the village at the top of the ridge (just over half way to Chitlang).

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It takes about 4 hours (locals far less) to walk from Thankot to Chitlang. There are two routes, the road and the path, which cross frequently on the way up the hill. The path is supposedly shorter, and winds through the forest, but has disadvantages. Some sections are steep and slippery in the permanent cloud (which can apparently last for 3 months) and the leech level is quite high. The alternative is the road, it's not so bad. The road is surrounded by much of the same landscape and you will be passed by only a handful of vehicles during your trek.

Some good mountain views on the way up the hill, back over the Kathmandu valley. You can see snow covered mountains between the layers of cloud.

On the other side of the ridge you can see the town, its quite spread out with buildings all over the valley. You can see what they are trying to attract tourists with. Most of the local architecture still looks like more traditional Nepal.

Chitlang has heard of tourists and the accommodation in homestays is typically organised into fixed packages of Rs1000 - Rs1500 including food. As this is a little pricey just negotiate, asking about the room and each meal in turn. Nepalis are too reasonable to overcharge you when you break it down and you might agree around Rs750 total off season. To reach Kulekhani lake it's another 3 hours plus (locals will tell you less) down the valley, you can follow the road. It's green and pleasant here... homely after India. If it's before the rainy season you might spot some aiselu for a snack on the way. (Yellow raspberries which grow a lot like blackberries in England).

The first village you arrive at on the lake edge is actually 'Marko'. There is accommodation here as with every small town along the lake edge. If you head along the lake it's another few hours to reach KuleKhani village itself, as the road winds along the many valleys at the lake edge. You might spot some local industry, such as this water-powered corn (American usage) mill.

I can't think of a better route back than to retrace the same path. There probably is one, if you fancy exploring.

Note for swimmers: if you're trying to do the length of the lake heading for the hut at the center of the fish farms allows you to cross the booms of nets.

Ungoods

It's an old complaint, but 'Goods' no longer fits. The quality of so many products in India and Nepal is so poor that it pains my natural sense of efficiency, it's just a waste (cont. Engineering the world, Aldous Huxley).

Whether you are talking about the shoes, which are so poor they break when you try them on, or rain coats which leak, the standard is low. There is no quality assurance, words mean nothing. It's just a country full of small shop owners who have stacked their shops full of rubbish they try and move on.

It's not as if India is alone in this problem, it has happened before. Brands emerged in other countries out of the sea of unreliability and small businesses, and their own Del Boys. The trouble here is that words mean nothing, you can buy clothes marked with 'north face' in half the stores in Delhi and Kathmandu, but its about as useful as the link below. Every term is used and abused. All the low quality mostly synthetic cloth is labeled as Pashmina, or Cashmere, or for my favourite '70% Pashmina 30% silk'. That's roughly equivalent to 100% bullshit. You will over pay for what you buy, the sole objective of most store owners is to screw you for what they can get. Ok, this isn't entirely true, ignoring deceptive pictures food products here do have well established brands, measures and pricing. There are also reputable brands and stores in India, away from the tourist areas.

While I wouldn't want this to be seen as some vengeful rant, as aside from a leaking raincoat I haven't bought anything I felt greatly upset by, it's frustrating to watch. I've seen one American woman ranting at a store in Pokhara, Nepal at their lack of values and mistreatment of people. I didn't know exactly what her problem was, but I suspect that either what she bought didn't work or she ended up paying several times the normal rate. The answer is, if you want to buy anything, from clothing, to silk, to pashmina, or cashmere, or trekking gear. Do it back home, there is likely no bargain to be had.

I leave you with
http://9gag.com/gag/aOK6L1r

Bubbles

How long do you remain protectionist. India has emerged from some level of economic protectionism, or is emerging, as rather uncompetitive. My thoughts were confirmed by an article in a Nepali paper on this subject. The example was clothing, which India should be a key manufacturer of, but ends up by a long way as a net importer from China. They point to the number of small businesses in India greatly reducing efficiency and hindering exports. The more worrying figure is that Indian growth is slowing, while still far behind the economies of other countries, and that factory output has briefly dipped for the first time in years. The future, from the fascist world of economics as the hippies tell me, or reality as I like to call it, is not so bright.

Internal Tourism

Domestic tourism is significant and growing in India (at least at the high end). The figures are roughly 6 million foreign tourist visits per year (as an export) and 700 million domestic tourists. Unfortunately domestic tourism is rather distinctive. Take the mountain town of Shimla, built by the British as a summer retreat and displaying some Victorian style architecture in a beautiful mountain backdrop. It's an 'official tourist place' and Indian tourists come in their thousands during the two months of the year deemed 'the best time to visit'. As far as I can see the main attraction in the town is the sight of thousands of other tourists... Domestic tourists almost always come as a family group, and almost always travel in a white car or white jeep, marked with the words 'tourist vehicle'. Because naturally a tourist has to come in a tourist vehicle (there is some permit related issue). As I leave the town I pass a 1.2km traffic jam of perhaps 200 of these 'tourist vehicles' waiting to enter. Not the place for me.

I feared for a while that this was simply an ungrounded prejudice of mine against Indians... something which I abhor. But then it struck me, the difference is that these are family holidays, or honeymoons. As a traveler you don't really want to be stuck in a resort full of either. Also as higher paying tourists, you can't afford to be stuck in a resort populated by this group. On the other hand, in a couple of glimpses of domestic tourism in Nepal, I've seen groups of Nepali men on walking and cycling holidays between the mountain towns. Refreshing.

Just Cringeworthy

The main beauty creams (implied skin whitening, as perversely the perceived ideal skin tone in India is whiter than the tanned models of Europe) are called "Fair and Handsome", or in Nepal "Fair and Lovely". So if you want to please your grandmother, you might want to pick up some cosmetics (these are products targeted to men, there are equivalents). I've already shared my mind on their 'anti dullness' activity.

It get's worse, there is a new super-campus university plastering India with advertisements. "Lovely Professional University". That will be reverberating around the water coolers of Western human resources departments for years to come.

Copying things

India has a habit of copying Western ideas, but getting them subtly and fundamentally wrong. Take the 'trade union' cartels, or the speed bumps in fast roads, or the plastic wrapped station food. The lack of food hygiene is a problem in India, and it's not an unknown problem. As a result its effectively required that all rail station food in India is polythene wrapped. But naturally this completely ignores any other aspect of hygiene. It's still the same bacteria laden food prepared on unwashed chopping boards with unwashed knives with unwashed or rinsed hands. It's not much more than a polymer based incubator, keeping in the water which is so very precious to all organisms. Of course this damning view is complete fabrication, my sample is only from watching two stands preparing their food during my many station hours, some places will naturally have better hygiene than others, but the packaging is so misguided that it is painful. I've tested this theory, and while I managed not to throw up out of the bus window (there is someone on every journey) the food did make me nauseous.

Because creativity isn't taught here. I've mentioned before, some Indians are taught from a young age not to think. You watch school children copying (tracing) drawings, but ask them to draw it themselves, and they wont try. (My samples are small and my generalisations extreme. In a way my criticisms are almost a deliberate parody of the 'its all wrong here' foreigner, but this is the scene in a dystopian horror where the narrative character starts pulling his hair out in frustration and screaming 'think, damn you, think for yourselves')

So you have chosen the path of pain

Getting onto the general compartment of a packed overnight train is a new experience. When the train arrives the chaos begins, even as the first unreserved coaches thunder past people open the doors and leap into the moving train. Sometimes there is a cluster of people hanging from the door which I'm shocked doesn't wipe anyone out on the platform. When the train slows the real chaos begins. People are pushing like driven animals, children are caught in the crush to get into the train but nobody thinks anything of it. It's almost violent, and gets heated quickly. In amongst the chaos people are illegally loading bags which look like cargo into the packed unreserved compartments. Anyone is looking to make what they can in India... by chance and by ending up boarding the train towards the back of the surge I make the only spot I'd have been happy with, between the two doors of the train. I manage to pack my bags under the sink behind me, and hold on to my spot. Thankfully people seem willing to push past into the carriage and nobody challenges me. The humidity is 85% and I keep the supply of water in my mind in case the temperatures get too high.
Some people quickly make their way into each of the toilets, and lock the door from the inside. They have secured their spot, at the cost of all the other passengers. They don't stop at this selfish disregard, they rip the shutters off the walls to cover the toilets in the floor. I hear a thud first from one compartment and then the other. This is clearly an every man for himself kind of journey.
The train is packed, but thankfully just at the level where our bodies are not directly touching. There isn't enough space for everyone to sit on the floor, but if people take it in turns then they can each get some rest sitting down sleeping. To start off with at least its quite cordial. But damn my long legs, when I sit, I don't quite fit and it's almost as stressful as standing. I opt to stand, and lean my head into the wall. The hardest part of the night is around 4am to 6am. We each find ourselves falling asleep and coming to with a slap against the walls. A small laugh goes round, we all know it.
During the last stretch of the day the train is even fuller, but the end is in sight. After 15 hours on the train and another full day, some 40 hours awake, I have very very fat feet.

Haryana Roadways driving in Himachal Pradesh...

... win the title for most insane mountain driving. I love you all. I've traveled on a bus in Nepal which had some shocking lateral G forces before, but the more sweeping curves of the better constructed Indian roads give you a clue as to the speed. On the Kathmandu-Pokhara road the drivers will quite often back off from the blind overtakes, not so here, they made the road wide enough for a 3 wide sandwhich wich magically fits together as the vehicles pass. Beyond the edge of the road is a steep drop for over a hundred meters into the valley. A woman is thrown into the side of the bus with a thud on one sharp turn, but she just calmly smiles. If I brace myself with my feet I can stay in my chair without too much work, but I look around the bus. Everyone else is perfectly calm and relaxed, nothing to see here.

Chandigarh

In short, meet the Indian Milton Keynes. It's a planned city on a grid, with straight obstruction free roads, organised traffic and intersections, and a good bus service (if perhaps the least friendly government staff I have encountered). The city is divided into numbered sectors, with residential areas, parks and retail and so on. Naturally it's completely without character, and pre-monsoon is a bit on the dusty side. It's also one of the cities which has the enforced lack of cheap rooms, so I can't recommend it as even a stopover. The one upside is the clean looking housing neighbourhoods, the sight of children playing cricket in the small green park spaces between the houses, there is potential. However, all my daydreams of a planned Indian city are smashed. I've often considered what it would look like to design a city as it should be, with free space and working sewers and no encroachment and slums and so on. I see now.

Places not to go

In short, from the limited places I have seen in India, stick to the south, or the Himalayas, or even Nepal, its basically India, but nicer. I'm not sure if I want to spend the time in the North to find out if its as grim as my impressions so far have indicated.

Inefficiency on the road

In the backwards sequence of posts that is a blog, or the bowel movements of a self important writer, I've often been frustrated by inefficiency. As an Engineer; not that I like to define someone by employment, but an Engineer is by nature a problem solver; this 'new sin against the holy ghost' (Aldous Huxley in notes on a Brave New World) is a problem for me. One problem I see in India is toll booths, giant structures constructed with frustrating frequency along all large new roads. The need is obvious, India is too corrupt and inefficient at collecting taxes to fully fund their infrastructure. The problems are two fold, the waste of the booth (or Plaza as they are euphemistically called) and the problems of PFI. George Osborne once labelled PFI a great mistake, before adopting 'Private Investment' as his solution for British Infrastructure. It's madness, shifting the costs of public works off the books only comes back to bite future generations as companies collect costs plus profits, which typically run to far more than the cost of the original investment as any contract also has to cover risks in returns. This insanity is worse with toll roads, which have the Plazas, giant monuments to inefficiency. These are concrete barriers, which cause each vehicle to decelerate, queue and accelerate, wasting both fuel and time. In some cases they can be justified, where the goal is to tax by road usage, in a country which is not sufficiently developed to use number plate recognition (think congestion charge). But in general these are monuments to the tragedy of human nature, and it's inability to organise for the common good.

In other ways India does recognise that the state of roads is critical for it's continued development. The roads are far better than Nepal, and the roads which have toll booths are some of the smoothest and fastest in India, it's not without benefit. The toll roads typically have solid central reservations, often with trees, which cuts out some of the most frightening road experiences. Many cities also recognise the problem of encroachment (illegal building along the edges of road) and have cracked out the bulldozers amongst much protest to remove the buildings. (articles on current progress on this in Varanasi, and mob reprisals resulting in destruction of government equipment in other parts of UP). But, and there is always a but, other roads have the opposite effect. Due to the poor ability of Indian drivers, the only solution governments have is to build speed bumps everywhere, even on fast roads. Sometimes these are unmarked, imagine driving down the motorway and encountering an unmarked speed bump...

No room (for foreigners), part 2

I've been having trouble in north India, in two towns the now familiar 'no room' problem in budget hotels. In these areas budget lodges are prevented from accepting foreigners, it has something to do with the local police and a particular 'form C' required to register their arrival. Foreigners entering is pretty obvious, it's not like any secret deals are possible. In practice this raises the cost for a room from about Rs300 to Rs800-1000. For a while I'd been upset by the illogicality of this, how does this help tourists (both cities have dedicated and very helpful tourist assistance persons at train and bus stations). But then it struck me, there are also foreign business travelers and PIOs to consider. Forcing a higher rate on these groups who have to visit a particular city can increase the income for the area. This is the link, the places where I have encountered the higher fees (Baroda, Lucknow, Chandigarh) are not on the typical tourist trail, or have other traits which make them unsuitable for budget travelers.
For places which do target foreigners, there isn't a clear advantage for forcing minimum rates on hotel rooms. There are two reasons, differentiation, and duration of stay. The first, differentiation, is that the facilities offered by each hotel vary, and in many tourist towns where rooms vary from Rs200 - Rs5000 per night certain tourists still opt for more expensive accommodation. These may offer pools, gyms, cleanliness, hot water, service and so on. In short the lack of a minimum rate does not necessarily drive down rates. This isn't entirely true, the price conscious (and desire not to be cheated) nature of most western tourists causes a large number of hotels to cluster within the lower end of the range.
The other factor is duration, Indian tourists and higher paying Western tourists may be on shorter stays than backpackers and travelers. It is fairly typical that in attractive spots, Indian tourists visit for the weekend whereas a western tourist may stay for at least a week. This leads to the almost amusing situation where western tourists are offered rates around Rs300 which for the same room an Indian pays Rs800-Rs1000. In the end the lodge owner makes roughly the same profit per week. There is also the effect, backpackers only visit or stay for this period because it is cheap.
Trying to explain this in a non tourist spot is very difficult. Indians who can afford to take a holiday are the richer middle class, and consequently pay more. (Price is also a symbol of status, it separates you from the those in different income brackets, and accommodation is chosen for this reason). The preconceived view amongst slightly backward Indians is that everyone from a Western country is rich, shouldn't these people have lots of money. Trying to explain that you want to pay 10% of what Indian tourists pay (I heard one tout call it the 'white rate'... a reversal) isn't easy. Western travelers do come from a different income bracket, and now there is a likelihood that the Indian middle class are wealthier than the young people on their limited savings, or their parents wallet.
Ultimately, returning to the issue of effective minimum rates, I have no problem with cities, states and nations which act in their own best interest, providing it is not to the direct detriment of a particular group. I do have real problems with incompetence and inefficiency, that is bad decisions. If it is in the best interest for these cities to squeeze money out of foreigners on business, so be it.

Concrete trees

Uttar Pradesh has a program to plant trees along the borders of highways and cities. As with most schemes in India, it should raise an eyebrow or two. Each tree planted is surrounded by brick and concrete rings just over a meter high. I'm not sure how much the bricks and concrete weigh, or how much carbon was released, but the construction seems an unspeakable waste. Mile after mile of these cylinders, marking the trees planted in the 'green highways' or whatever scheme. Of course in India grazing by road-roaming goats, cows and other animals is a big problem for new trees, but there are other dangers for plants. Sun, drought, disease, sometimes the brick rings are empty for these reason. Standing empty, I've decided to name these cylinders the concrete trees of UP.

India

Pro: Buses that fit me and my bags! Big spacious, cheap, fast (relatively) government buses
Pro: Limca (think cloudy lemonade, but like most soft drinks in India "contains no fruit")
Con: Diahorrea
Con: Supply shortage of Limca at my first stay

Uttar Pradesh

It's grim, really grim. If I was royal I would likely say Ghastly. Perhaps just before the rainy season isn't the best time to visit this place, with high humidity and temperatures and dry dusty earth. The small fields, each barely 15 to 20m per side, are empty, and the brown earth stretches to the horizon. The landscape is textured by the small grass mounds which mark the boundary of each field, and the occasional cluster of trees which have survived the purges of population growth. Dotted about this landscape are also the single story concrete houses, mostly painted white. With the fields empty there isn't much to do and outside each house there is a bed and on this bed the men sit, or lie. In the towns the main industry seems to be tractor retail, but the effect is almost comic. Without the cooperatives, and merging of land which has occurred elsewhere the tractors do most of their work in tight circles, visible long after they have finished. Other farmers still are still in the fields with their oxes or cows, which have a tighter turning circle. I arrive in the city of Gorakpur, it's not much better...

Red socks

You know you've been walking in a leech infested place when your gray socks emerge from your shoes bright red. Somehow the little parasites can squeeze into the tightest shoe, and a single non-clotting bite can stain half your foot.

VISAs

Get me the people I need to pay to bribe the people to get me a 6 month VISA...

If you're in a corrupt country its probably better to have someone 'sort your application out'

The English are coming...

Two English girls sit down to dinner. I listen to the conversation because I'm that kind of stalker. They are far from the most painful countrymen... but guess what they had for dinner, both
"Mash potato with cheese"
Well, I can't talk, I'd settled for Western food too (a vegetable burger). But that's worth a laugh, the place does a good Dal Bhat. Aside from that, you can guess with what fine British sounding they pronounced Jalapenos...

Wages, Nepal

The review committee has decided, pending government approval, to increase the minimum wage of Nepal from 6000 to 8000 NPR per month. As the minimum wage is reviewed every 2 years this increase of 33% is greater than inflation over the same period 19% (as the currency is tied to India), so progressive, just. The greater rate of inflation in global food prices is possibly not so much of a concern in the controlled Indian (and Nepali?) markets. Still, 60 GBP per month is no great salary...

But naturally the comedy is in the detail. The wage breakdown consists of a salary and a 'dearness allowance'. I suppose at one point the quaint sounding 'dearness allowance' was intended to be set by region, but then it makes about as much sense as separated 'National Insurance Contributions'. The union representing the Monster Raving Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) isn't happy with this settlement. They are campaigning for a 15,000 NPR a month wage, which is not far off the equivalent of the 10,000 INR wage which inspired the last strikes I witnessed in India. I'm not sure how they intend to implement this 150% increase, or have even considered that many Nepali's are self employed, or run small enterprises.

India is Great

In order to facilitate tourism as effectively as possible India has increased the tourist VISA cost for UK citizens, about 2-3 fold depending on where you apply. It's a change under the guise of reciprocity (revenge) in response to the UK's VISA changes concerning study and post-study employment (so many thanks, DC). Except for its tit-for-tat introduction, this is quite reasonable, after all any country has the right to set its own entry restrictions. It's also remarkable that India had the foresight to change this in the Nepali embassy within a few months of making the change in the UK (nearly managing to preempt a cheaper travel route). Unfortunately there is a catch, the large scale IT project to update the website by adding a line into the table of VISA costs from Nepal is still in progress. I'm sure this will be fixed within weeks, and no more Brits will have to feel really poor when they get to the front of the queue and don't have enough cash (3600 NPR to 11650 NPR is a bit of a jump). Really I can't moan about this though, if you want to visit India, expect India!

Kathmandu

If you've got any romantic ideas about Kathmandu, forget them. Thamel is the tourist spot, but I can't see why. You can't walk even a short distance without some of the resident street lurkers whispering/speaking/shouting "Smoke, you want smoke, pollen, hash, ganja, temple rock". Don't ignore them, they'll just say it louder in case you didn't hear the first time. It's incessant, almost menacing, and deeply annoying. The reason for this interest - clueless tourists paying anything up to 10 times the going rate, and a profit several times a days pay. That's what is annoying, every word is spoken with you as a target, and with the intent of ripping you off. If it's not them its men playing (often badly) irritating instruments that look like small violins, in your face. Oh and there are taxi drivers, which between trying to run over their potential customers in the narrow streets only thankfully only manage "taxi, looking for taxi". In the evening the atmosphere changes slightly, prostitutes and pimps start to appear on the street, as a man you shouldn't  appear to stroll, or the offers of "looking for sex massage", "girls", "dancing" come rolling in. Aside from this there is also some overpriced trash for sale, none of it as described, and food which is now at the top end more expensive than basic food in England. The tourist supermarkets sell goods above MRP. Verdict: treat Kathmandu like Delhi, and get out as soon as possible. Sure there are a couple of temples, but is the biggest Stupa in Nepal a life changer: No. There is perhaps an exception, if you want to mix with locals and enjoy live music (mostly Doors covers) there are possibly the coolest spots I have seen in S Asia.

I'm not the only one

As I walked up the road from lakeside I spotted a calf with its head poking into one of the shops. The owner was sitting on a low stool feeding it pieces of cardboard box as he tore them up. I know that look when caught enjoying a guilty pleasure!

Nepal Drinks

I've discovered a nice flask filler: Mustang brandy (apple). It's from a region north of Pokhara so I probably wont get to enjoy it for too much longer, not too strong (25%) and even the name sounds cool

Update: I've never been so wrong. For some reason the small bottles contain an entirely different 'Mustang Brandy' to the larger bottles, even from the same distillery. The larger bottles, clear, and smelly, rank as the foulest distilled spirits I have yet encountered. These represent the greatest concentration of essence of rotting and fouling that are possibly known to man. I now suspect that some higher quality spirit is coloured, flavoured and sweetened to produce the drinkable brandy. Now what to do with 2 liters which I don't think even survives the lower limit test of a drinkable spirit - can it be mixed with coke.

Accidental

Hypocrisy. After swimming the lake I am forced to walk back along the entire lake edge without shoes, and topless. I offer my apology to the Hippies.

The Poverty Relief Fund

A number of Hippies here are tragically poor, they can't even afford basic essentials such as shoes. I'm not sure why of all the expenses they can't manage 500 NPR for some cheap soles, but it seems to be the case. In Nepal I have not seen a local person without shoes, this is clearly a new level of deprivation. Many Hippies will try and rationalise this suffering, a common theme seems to be a greater connection with the earth (OK perhaps I should stop laughing to myself and write 'Earth'). Covered as it may be with the excrement of dog, cat, cow, buffalo, goat, rat, bird... and indirectly human. Perhaps the feeling is better, this is a more natural way to walk.
Ok I admit I am telling a lie, these are India 'Hippies' gone north for the summer. Trance and party types with not a hair of variation between their dreadlocks. The shoeless fashion is after all not quite so vomitously upsetting as the London hipster listening to music on his iphone, with no shoes, on the tube. I'm glad they have escaped the oppressive lifestyle of shoes, the fascist system can't force them can it, yeah!

Onwards

Pokhara is another one of those stops where time slows down. People leave Pokhara tomorrow, but if you do wait long enough tomorrow finally comes. The tourist trap is lakeside. It's not a bad spot, at the edge of the city, where the buildings are spaced just enough not to feel claustrophobic. The friends have gone and the rain has come as I survey my small world. Lakeside is one road, which keeps close to the edge of the lake. There are spots of grass here and there, where the buffalo wander about between their wallowings. The south 'expensive' end, with its mixture of serious minded trekkers and clueless tourists, up to the muddier Hippie end, with its clueless dreadlock'ed cliches. It's not that I've exhausted everything to do, there are fantastic roads for offroad motorbikes, road bikes... and even trekking. But something says move on.

That's not a union

There are aspects of Indian and Nepali life which seem to mimic more developed nations, at least in the terminology used. These are the strikes, unions and associations of the different industries in each country. The trouble is in the subtle mislabeling or misinterpretation of each concept... A 'strike' may actually mean 'civil disobedience'. There are also the self employed workers striking at the government to set a minimum wage...

The more troubling case is the lack of understanding or enforcement of competition law (which does at least exist in India). It is not uncommon to see associations or 'unions' of hairdressers, vehicle hire shops, internet cafes or auto drivers. These associations see it as quite reasonable to set minimum rates, and you may hear 'union price' or in Nepal see the 'official' rates written down. The trouble is, these are actually self employed business owners and not simply employees, and this amounts to collusion to fix prices. The correct term for these associations is 'cartel'.

While the almost excessive competition of the slow trading Indian and Nepali small businesses may seem a cruel fate for the workers, price Inflation fixes nothing.

Traveler bingo

Mebendazole

Albendazole

Nitromidazole

Metronizadole

Tinidazole

Nepal Music

It's the year 2070 (or 2013 if you're foreign) and the highlight of the music scene: Deep Purple, live in Nepal. Otherwise expect a lot of love for 'the doors'

Oh but local people are used to the food

Only if there is a predisposition to motion sickness. A bus journey is almost always punctuated by the vomiting of one or more passengers.

If you charge 15 US Dollars to enter your town

Then I'm probably not going to go there. Unlike the Taj, I'm not going to do this to save myself time fielding future questions on how it was. In this case a picturesque town in Nepal not far from Kathmandu, a regular tourist stop, charges simply to enter the town. In the handbook on how to get tourist money, someone missed the page on making your town inviting. (Unless your spot is truly unique, which is a label I associate with the Taj and Angkor Wat). I also object to any price in Dollars, it's just about acceptable for national treasures, but otherwise this is how you get Americans to accept paying ten times the local rate because "it's only twenty bucks". It turns out that there are many ways in, from simply walking down the side streets to waiting until the ticket counters close, but that's not me. As a non cheat, this pushes me into an adventure. Seven km walking fully loaded over the hills and through a small pine forest, and trying to refine the pronunciation of where I'm going, I reach a beautiful temple and small town. There is an entry fee of 1 US Dollar, but by chance of arriving by foot I missed the checkpoint for this more reasonable fee. Tourism is an industry which tries it's hardest to destroy itself.

Lucky, Happy, Free

The past cloud of Indian sexism has lifted slightly, women in Nepal appear to be freer. They don't hurry about, covered up, in perpetual fear of unwanted advances, or rape. Maybe they don't have to, Nepali men seem to be far less 'rapey'. (If this doesn't sit in the dictionary the adjective implies situations where men are either threatening, strange or make single minded advances)

Many young Nepali women dress in tight jeans, T-shirts, lipstick, mascara. Yes men like that, it shows off the breasts, but in India as victims they would be blamed for their loose western morals. Or they wear western dresses when they go out. They go out! They can go and drink with men without being the lamb walking into a wolf pit. They can smile at strangers without worrying that this could be fatally mistaken as an invitation (one of my favourite discoveries on entering Tamil Nadu). Here I have already encountered the story of the village community which took domestic violence seriously, even if this is isolated.

This is a big statement to make, but it's not my discovery alone. Single female travelers remark on it, this is a place they can travel alone without the persistent consciousness of their safety. Where as in India they would expect continuous stares and advances in the male dominated streets, here they are less noticed. Now clearly I'm using exaggerations, but this is the clarity following the escape from a great cloud. Of course Indian women are not universally oppressed, while it is believed the rates of sexual violence are high, and police enforcement low, this is the second largest country by population in the world. In the big cities and in the south, women don't have to stare at the floor. All direct experience is ultimately anecdotal, but from a growing sample.

Ultimately this freedom may be limited to the cities, where I spend most of my time, and where women can stay in education. In the villages it seems the fate of biology returns, women marry young, and have children.

Checking

So I may have mentioned checking before. Checking is what happens at Nepal's many many road checkpoints. What is checking? I'm not really sure.

The first time the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere I wondered if this was a rare event, some specific security occasion. But no, its not. On a later stop I began to question what the police may actually be 'checking'. They just seemed to stand about for a while as the buses sat there before letting them go. I tried to make up theories, perhaps this was a clever scheme to force the buses to obey the unrealistic 20kph speed limit on the mountain roads. It would be easy to stamp a permit with the correct timings for future checkpoints and delay them accordingly.

But no, a local person informed me that it was in fact my worst suspicions about Nepali policing. They are 'checking' for criminals, not by checking the documents or even names of the passengers or anything foolish like that, but by just looking at them knowingly for a bit. Do they check the luggage? In the more serious checkpoints they may give the nearest bags the slightest poke, just to check the luggage doesn't consist entirely of something unpleasant to poke.

There is a serious side to checking, some permit or other document is presented by the bus drivers at each stop. It's just another of those uncorruptible interactions where how long the bus sits somewhere depends on the will of a few police officers, I see no problem there.

Note checking is entirely different to the revenue collection points, where each vehicle, as nobody is likely to be following a 20kph limit, is taxed in turn. Luckily if you turn up at one of these points with large notes the police are happy to provide change.

Too clean

And for my latest lodge finding antics, enter the newly completed tourist lodge. I reject a room telling the owner that in short the room is too clean. I'm not sure if he has had a room rejected for this reason before, but it really is freshly decorated, and I point to various bits of mud on my clothing as some degree of explanation. Perhaps there is something odd about me, I just can't feel at home in an immaculate room. I'd fear damaging it by my being, and it doesn't take me long to find a lodge where paint peels in just a homely way.

Dipayal

Perhaps I should add some concrete numbers to my assertions about alcohol shops in Nepal. Consider Diapayal (sometimes pronounced more like Tiphael). A relatively low altitude town 8 hours drive into the mountains. The town is large by Nepal standards, spread over several hills, each with their own cluster of shops. But the central part of town is only about 150 meters of shops along one road, not exactly a city.

In short I was wrong, it's not quite true that 50% of all businesses here sell alcohol, only 20% do. But can you guess the scale? ... lets not consider why I spend my time counting all the 170 shops.

If you class shops which sell alcohol as a single category, consisting both of alcohol shops and small restaurants, its 36. That's 36 places to drink in a short street. There are probably more but I didn't ask the shops without displayed alcohol because I'd likely end up trying to explain I didn't actually want to buy 15 different bottles of spirit. For scale consider that there are probably only about 30 people walking about the entire street who are not presently working in one of the shops.

The other shops are worth a mention considering my previous thoughts on the ever present and superfluous general stores
If you lump both general goods shops (23) and food shops (15) together this becomes the joint largest single category at 38 shops. As it is separating the two is difficult, and is largely based on whether they stock fresh and bulk foodstuffs, as everyone sells the same packaged goods.
If clothing (at 33 shops the largest distinct category) and jewellery (5 shops) are combined into a single category this also comes out at 38. Defined generally as 'shops which I avoid'.
Third is restaurants (generous), of which many feature in the list of alcohol shops. There are 31 'restaurants' in the town.
Hardware is the next largest at 22, and it goes on from there.

In the end there are only 15  'alcohol shops' in town, but the rows of bottles make these clearly visible. Any good deals? No, thanks to MRP they all charge the same price. Still, in a crisis situation each of the people milling about town could probably all get a drink in under 1 minute, should the need arise.

Ways I'd rather travel than Nepali bus

Walking, Cycling, Motorcycling, Crawling over cacti.

The root cause of my problem is that I don't fit. I'm taller than the average Nepali, or at least when they made the buses. My knees either press into the seat in front or refuse to fit at an angle in the narrow seat, resulting in what is after enough hours a stress position. Even short distances as the crow flies are threefold when wound around the mountains, and the hairpins keep the average speed down. To stop people going anywhere too quickly in Nepal, buses stop frequently, for long times, without any obvious reason. I'm used to lunch and dinner stops, but there are other stops where the bus "Oh just stops here for an hour". "Why". "Just stops here". The police help in this matter, holding the buses here and there. Usually the reason given is "checking", but only once on a comparatively short stop did that checking even involve a cursory look over the bus and its contents. Combined with a night sleeping stop, where the driver gets off the bus for 2 hours sleep leaving the bus in the middle of nowhere, this sort of thing can quickly turn a 9 hour journey into 14. Then there is the music, played loud, especially if you have the misfortune to be near the working speaker. It's normal here to play music all night long, the words DVD Video coach, cause a pang of terror in me. People clearly like to listen to music when they sleep, because during the 2 hour break, someone puts a Hindi/Nepali track on their phone: on repeat 1, and leaves it to play for an hour. I get off the bus and consider sleeping on the road for a bit. In the daytime I can see that the route really is amazing. If it wasn't the worst bus I have yet encountered I'd have slept more soundly not knowing the sheer drops beyond the edge of the road.

Keep India tidy

There is a sign in Rishikesh (Himalayas) written on the rocks: "If you love India, don't trash it"
The verdict is in, and, oh India, don't take it too hard. I still love you.

Silence is violence

The treatment of women depends on culture not law. Without a change in culture I doubt India can ever enforce its new laws protecting women. In Nepal I hear a story so very different to any I have heard recently: A small mountain community blocked the road to their village while they administer punishment on a local man for beating his wife. I'm not suggesting that mob justice amounts to progress, but that where the body of people has a different opinion on what is right, things happen.

Inconsiderate India

"We should not make that which is familiar right, and unfamiliar wrong". It often strikes me how Indian behaviour may be considered as truly rude or inconsiderate, by our cultural norms. In many situations there are multiple solutions, and it seems India has settled on a different one. Take the scene when I enter a dark train waiting room where a few people, including a family, are sleeping before the midnight train. A group of young men enter, turn on the lights and set their phones to play some irritating Hindi music as loud and distorted as they can. This is just what is normal here, people can sleep through bright lights, loud noises, and even people walking within inches of their heads. Here the unusual is the person who can only sleep in the quiet dark.

Oh father Jack, what should we stock the shop with

Nepal has quite a lot of drinking, and you could probably count 100s of bottles of spirits on display walking through the average town. On arriving at the lodge at 6.30AM I encounter a man drinking whiskey. It later turns out that this man is the medicated brother of the lodge owner and asks the same questions each day. But drinking is common, and it starts in the morning. It's just unfortunate that Nepal has such an unholy definition of morning, they actually get up at 5am.

It's grim up north

I encounter another in the series of jobs which rather resemble the fabled torments of hell. An old woman who is working alone outside the village, smashing rocks. She takes the large round rocks from one pile, and beats them with a hammer to produce small angular stones for use in road building. I didn't have the courage to ask her for a photo: just a woman, a hammer and two piles of rock. I'm not sure if this is the worst employment of human life I have seen so far, but Nepal takes the award for best pythonesque rural labour.

Behind the times

It's always a bit of a shock when you sleep in a bit and find out how late it is. I wake up and see the news, with its headline banner in English: Happy New Year 2070. The double take doesn't get any less when you travel around and see companies proudly stating they were established in 2065.

First impressions

The journey was an interesting one - not so many vehicles run over the border, the road is physically restricted to a one way bridge. In short the day consisted of: train, bus, bus, cycle rikshaw, jeep, horse cart, form filling, walking over the border, form filling, and then a shared tempo. As far as borders go it could be confused with the state borders elsewhere in India, not what I would imagine as secure.

So this is Nepal, perhaps a border town is not the most accurate representation. In short


People - as helpful as the best parts of rural India

Traffic - It's almost like people here take responsibility for their actions, sorry India. I've only witnessed a few people driving dangerously so far, most of the traffic is more cautious. Far more bicycles on the road

Vehicles - I witnessed a bus in such bad condition that after belching clouds of black smoke it gave up before it even managed to pull out of the bus station. Motorbikes mostly Indian brands. So unchanged

Police - Disturbingly numerous at night. Camo and fluorescent jackets, that's new (after India).

ATMs - not so kind to foreigners, and less reliable

Currency  - In a worse condition than Indian currency, if the pieces still form a rectangle its valid. ATM's don't want to give 100 NPR notes, so these are as bad as anything else. Everything seems expensive until you remember 1 INR (INdian Rupee) is 1.6 NPR (NePali Rupee)

Packaged milk - not available...

Bars - more common than general stores. Possibly the most common store here. Just in case you are more than 20m from the nearest bar, most restaurants and lodges also sell alcohol. Don't panic, alcohol shops are open by 7.30am, till late.

Small Industries

Sometimes I have just stopped to watch local people at work. For me their daily routine is an exhibit. What might be considered low work in India is a living history for a European. Maybe our parents saw a real (not craft) potter or a blacksmith in their youth? Some of these people in smaller towns are appreciative, as not many will show an interest in their craft. Others like a poor knife sharpener are beyond caring and resigned to be looked down upon. I sat for perhaps twenty minutes watching the blacksmiths forging blades, for a short curved knife used by farm labourers. Their hammers fall in turn in a well practiced routine, before a short pause to let the blades heat. I watch the various strokes which are used as the blade cools to form the shape. I barely noticed the fire at first, its an air fed pile of charcoal less than 10cm high, behind the fat one. I haven't fully considered the economics but unless they use recycled metal the value added in the blade must be tiny. The wood for the fire is probably sourced locally, but the air is electrically driven (subsidised in India).
In Nepal I caught sight of a family chasing a chicken and decided to watch. I'd correctly guessed that this was dinner, one of their stock of 4 chickens, a dozen chicks and a goat. After a few trips around the hut it made a twist and ducked inside, where the daughter caught it. The chicken is brought to the chopping block and is ended. The man holds onto the body which manages to give a good 20 seconds of struggle without instruction from the head. I must have seen a bird prepared before but I watch anyway as it is boiled, plucked, seared and gutted. Oh how eager the remaining chickens are to eat the scraps of their departed friend. I make my excuses when invited to stick around for dinner

Rishikesh

Rishikesh is too close to Delhi, it throbs with crowds at the weekends. The upside is that lodge owners know that foreign tourists are more likely to stay all week so will offer you a daily rate which is a fraction of that Indians pay. The tourist spot is outside the town, and split over both sides of the river. The narrow bridges which link the two sides are wonderful examples of Indian chaos; just 1.8m wide the carriageway accomodates a bidirectional meandering of people, motorbikes, cows and monkeys... I would liken the process of crossing the bridge to diffusion

A modest proposal for solving Indian traffic congestion

It is easy to spot, many towns and cities in India are hopelessly clogged with slow moving traffic. This is intolerable as the long journey times and unbreathable polluted air seriously detract from the otherwise ideal life. There have been many attempts to resolve this problem; through public transport systems, bypasses and road widening. Unfortunately none of the attempts has touched the real issue, the behaviour of Indian drivers and the volume of traffic. Something needs to be done to improve traffic flow and efficiency.
It strikes me that one of the fundamental limits to Indian traffic flow is the volume of horn of a vehicle. When faced with an obstacle or continuous queue of traffic, a driver simply uses the horn to accelerate the passage of vehicles ahead. It strikes me that if this is the case, a louder horn must produce a greater effect. Simply increasing the power of car horns is a great untapped potential. As current sound levels are far below that which is lethal to listeners at 1m distance it is only reasonable that the government should set minimum dB levels for new products.
There is also the issue of traffic management. Very busy roads are often patrolled by policemen, who can only whistle repeatedly and non-specifically at the traffic. This coded instruction to move faster against the impossible is however severely limited. A policeman after all has to breathe between blasts on the whistle. Instead I propose equipping these essential agents with an automatic whistle, allowing continuous sound production and improving traffic flow by anything up to 40%. This rich vein of improvements could extend still further, with multiple auto whistles used by a single highly trained officer.
In the end it must be accepted that certain obstructions are not road vehicles and do not belong in the road; such as cows, goats, dogs, pedestrians, sleeping people, street stands, hand carts and building material stores. This is primarily due to their lack of a horn, which is a shocking oversight. Fitting the cows with bells, at a small cost, could significantly reduce their impact on passing vehicles. At the same time street sellers wheeling their carts in the road should be compelled by law to yell "ahoy ahoy ahoy". Pedestrians walking in the road too could use this same tactic, but to avoid fatigue a megaphone may be a fashionable street accessory.
Some pedestrians may naturally be tempted to ignore this law, as unlike previous laws in India it is not certain that everyone will follow obediently. This can be solved by writing lots of signs telling pedestrians to "follow all road laws". These signs could conveniently be placed on the street stands which block the pavements, so as to be visible just at the right time. It's time the government of India recognised that every Indian is special, and laws are meant for other people and not them. When each driver is just blocking the road for a moment, for example to unload a dozen passengers with luggage or so, automatically engaging horns should be government issue.
With these small changes, India may just manage to avoid traffic jams in its future.

Little touches

I thought the local people were panning for gold in a dried up river bed, it is a hive of activity.

But no, India is too poor for that. They are picking out the stones by hand to use the silt as a building material.

The other day within a short period in Delhi a local intervened to stop a cycle rickshaw from trying to rip me off, another warmly shook my hand, and a group from an automotive parts manufacturers conference invited me in to see 'Indian dance'. It turns out that, as almost all the business representatives were men, this is basically as cultural as a woman showing a bit of middle jiggling about to not entirely well suited music. Also as always in India, the music is too loud and badly distorted. Somehow either distortion is associated with loudness or distortion is a learned concern. The peak of the performance was "Russian dance", which raises the stakes with quite a lot of  atheltic white Russian middle and leg on display, to a kind of aerobic routine which possibly has traces of Indian dance, Russian dance, or neither.

India is also a country for the more questionable little touches. Delhi's metro system doesn't go to one of the cities main rail stations and bus stations. Take the walk from Euston to Euston Square, double it, and add in a few 4 lane roads to cross. I've seen half length metro trains, which stop at the front of the platform causing the usual chaos in the rear coaches. I wasn't offered a room at one of the lodges here on account of my inability to hold my mouth at their extra special little touch. This time one room's bathroom vents directly into another bedroom. As much as I like listening to someone...

Notes on Delhi

The hilarious thing about this part of Delhi is that you can walk around and hear people talking, then realise they are speaking English with a strong Birmingham accent. Sorry Birmingham.

Delhi, but slightly different

... and despite everything, a moment in Delhi. This time the lodge is on a side street off the main bazaa road, and somehow the atmosphere is entirely different. The narrow but busy road feels peaceful, and only the occasional motorcycle or cycle rickshaw disturbs the slow walking crowds. There are few tourists just this one street away, and consequently none of the hassle and touting of the main road. In fact as I walk along nobody seems to notice me. It's just after sunset and the lighting is atmospheric, coming from each shop entrance and the odd street lamp nested amongst the chaotic Indian overhead wiring. The shops are varied, and there are sellers for vegetables and fast food, not tourist tat and money exchanges. The quaint touches of India are visible, a man is trying to negotiate the crowds with a long hand cart packed with boxes of goods. I walk slowly with my pack of sweet lassi (yoghurt, I've discovered it's about Rs13 (20p) from the dairy shops, so may even start gaining weight). There are odd sights, the ground floor of one building has been converted into a stable for ten or so white horses, and another building's ground floor is converted into some kind of waste dump. Don't worry I've not gone soft yet, these spots don't exactly smell fresh.

A great place to see in India

I have some advice for potential tourists trying to plan a trip to India. Personally I recommend using the lonely planet guidebook, as follows: first make a note of all the interesting places it mentions, then don't go to any of them.

The problem is that tourism destroys what originally enchanted the first visitors (at least in India). The buildings remain, but when the atmosphere is gone you are merely led like sheep around empty creations of stone and brick. Even the Taj Mahal isn't that impressive, while its not insignificant don't beat yourself up if you miss it. What is it to stand in the same place and take the same photo as the previous million people. Then there is the hassle, the cheating, the cost... driven by tourist money and Indian culture. This hassle is worse the more tourists there are, and depending on your disposition it can be tiring. Whatever you may read, if its in the lonely planet, then it is most definitely not "little known", "largely undiscovered" or "unaltered". You don't 'explore' anywhere by following a book... you wont find a cheap India (easily) in these places. For food well you can have your pizza, pasta, Japanese, Israeli, German. The choice is yours. My only doubt in this rant is that if you want to try real Indian food... well Indian people are quite keen on Chinese food!

The worst example so far is of course the golden triangle. The level of shit is high here, and a great proportion of the Indian people you meet here will be too. This isn't racist, these are only the people who have come to make money; its business, no holds barred. And that folks is the end of all that is reasonable...

Agra, short for aggravation, isn't really that interesting. Before you arrive you might at first be surprised by the endless smoke stacks from the brick kilns which make up the horizon of UP and Rajastan. This local industry also ensures pollution never falls below legal limits. The cheating is strong in this one, and despite the prepaid autos they have found a new way to scam, dropping you short of your destination. It might seem an obvious trick, but in all my time trusting auto drivers while getting dropped off in strange and unknown places, they have not cheated me. Once you have agreed a price, they generally do their job. This time, its just stupid, why drive the first 5km but not the last 0.8km. He tried the bullshit "buy your drinks here, no more drink stands near the Taj", but I barely notice this behaviour any more, its normal. For anyone who feels peckish after the Taj I can recommend the government restaurant for bland and overpriced food... note this cynicism doesn't extend to all governments though. Karnataka govt. tourism (from the lovely south) has provided me with Rs22 dosa and Gujarat govt. tourism a clean and tidy room in a beautiful mountain tourist spot for Rs400.

Jaipur isn't much better, but here some of the local behaviour at least gives much amusement, my favourite example being the calculator price. Sometimes even for Indians a price is just too bullshit to say, so out comes the calculator. It's comic how clearly they have just communicated their intent to defraud somehow. After reaching the "ok I tell you good price" instead of just saying it they have to pick up a standard desk calculator and poke in the number. I can only hope it would pain them to say this level of bullshit in their own tongue. Do they think the ownership for this figure is then relocated to an electronic device. I don't think any of the reasonable excuses, confidentiality or intelligibility, can really apply. This is just Incredible India. Another small refreshment in the hot day is the slight grammatical misuse of "You like tuktuk". To which the answer is simple: "No". Or my amusement at how fast the 'guide' scurried away after his "you can't enter Amber Fort without guide" was met by "I report you".

The scams just don't stop. It's not the first time I have heard an auto driver say "Price per person", but it is followed by my rebuttal, heavy on the F word. In short I explain that this isn't how it works in India. People will always lie, in tourist places. In other places I well know that the Indian style of giving directions and time keeping isn't what we are used to, and you can't resent it. But in tourist places it will be a lie. No more true than with private buses, they know you don't want to arrive in a place at night, so will tell you something else

So you may already know I can be an angry person, but in all of these dealings I have restraint (have some belief!). Learning how to not let these nasty little parasites bother you is essential to enjoy living here! But one Delhi auto driver received a full lecture involving several conjugations of the F word. I hope he understood the subtlety, but I wasn't in a state to translate to international English. The bus from Jaipur began the encounter, which in private bus style dropped us by a busy road in the middle of nowhere late at night, throwing us to the wolves as it were. The first wolf quoted Rs250 to take us to the stop, less than 3km away. This attempted fraud for what could be a Rs50 daytime or Rs80 nighttime journey in a city where using the meter (even cheaper) is a legal requirement sent me over the edge. I devoted a full two minutes to shouting in his face about trying to cheat foreigners before choosing a new auto.

Do you really want to go to India? If you have money to burn I'm sure a booked tour can actually make for a fairly pleasant experience with many western luxuries (some toilets even have paper). Otherwise, how about you don't go to the iron pyrite triangle

Intermission

Dear Scott, I've decided to write a short post about racism and cultural judgement. I may be some time.

In the meantime why not a brief intermission; after all nobody is expecting Obama's race speech or Julia Gillard's sexism condemnation. So what really goes on in my mind... "[guitar plays] A lovestruck Romeo sings the streets a serenade". Yes this is the mind of a music addict without any source of music for many months. It's not as if I choose what random track fills the part of the brain dedicated to this function. Now slowly unwinding with the help of fast internet in Delhi and youtube!

My mental playlist (unfortunately due to neurological copyright restrictions limited to 15 second portions of each track) is as follows
Dire Straits - Romeo and Juliet
Bright Eyes - Easy/Lucky/Free
Amander Palmer - Ampersand
Darren Hayman - Big Fish
The Magnetic Fields - Quick
The Killers.... I think my mind has created an entirely new song

From Russia With Love

And now another predictable little tale, best captured by the spirit of the "Never get off the boat" scene in apocalypse now, where the Chef decides to go for some fresh mangoes. (In case you haven't seen the extended version of this classic, leaving the relative safety of the boat brings the chef face to face with a tiger. This is followed by his running away and subsequent shrieks of "Never get off the boat". Somehow it is the repetition of these words which makes the scene comic). In my case the boat is in fact the slow moving life of Om Beach, the mangoes take on their role in British innuendo, and the tiger is trying not to stare at a big shaved cock during evening conversation. For those that don't know about the near paradise that is Om Beach, lets just say that by the time you have finished breakfast and got ready to do something with the day its 12, and before you know it you've finished lunch and have only a couple of hours of daylight left. In the blink of an eye its evening, and when you check the time at the fire its 3am. Leaving Om Beach 'tomorrow' can take up to a week, and 'the day after tomorrow' at least a fortnight.

At the fire its quiet to start, and I quickly make eye contact with a girl. This is unusual, as I'm not successful with women, and its on the back of some 3 years of failure in this regard. So lets not pretend the alarm bells didn't start ringing at this point, but then again, I am a man. I move myself beside her, with no shy feint or double movement, and we exchange a few words. Then without my objection and rather prematurely she rests her head on my shoulder... I quietly remember the old saying "If it seems too good to be true, it probably is". But it's not the first time I've dated a crazy so lets just see how it goes. As the evening goes on she makes herself ever more comfortable on me, while I quietly feel discomfort at the level of public affection we're forcing on the others. This should of course all be read in the voice of David Mitchel, but I really hate it when other people shove in your face what they are getting and you're not. It's just rude in a social situation like a fire. It turns out the girl is Russian. She is small and her affection is sweet, so I decide this is most likely some kind of Mafia honey trap. It's definitely to be followed by my waking and finding that all of my possessions are gone. (think Star Wars, "It's a trap")

To my pleasant surprise I awake to discover that I am still in possession of as much portable property and so on as when I went to sleep, which was nice. I am however presented with one of those challenging decisions, as the Russian girl invites me to leave the beach and head to Arambol where she is staying. Giving insufficient consideration to my friends, and generally being an idiot, I leave the beach the next day.

I find the first of my problems before arriving: she is childish, almost insufferably. And then on arrival I find that Arambol is like Palolem but worse. Its touristy and lacking any trace of being India, but with even more drinking and idiots on motorcycles. There is something about the very atmosphere which is stressful, and then there are the Russians. While this may seem rather racist, Russians have an earned reputation for being unfriendly, drinking heavily, speaking poor English and not generally socialising with non-Russians. While I have to admit that its not fair for me to judge the quality of English as a second language, its also stupid to deny it could equally be called "International". I think Russians also suffer a false judgment by the chance of their own language, missing out much of the 'can, may, could' dressing of English.

Now, you might be wondering what is so comic about this day to day experience. Well as she had warned me, she lives with a few interesting people. In fact in the house are a married couple, a French porn actor and his Russian wife. If you need a picture the French guy has a receding hairline and a moustache, which tickles me. They aren't big on clothes and they are big on sharing. When I meet them in the evening a second (naked) man has joined for a vigorous evening of... you already know. Everything is a bit on the open side in this house, to the extent that the bed I use is in a hallway between the house and the kitchen. Get to watch the little trips out for olive oil and other items whose uses can be imagined. Oh they are polite enough, they did invite me to join in.

So later on after being abandoned by the Russian I find myself in the kitchen discussing extreme meditation whilst trying my hardest not to stare at a shaved cock. To my credit I hadn't noticed (but should have guessed) he was fully shaved the first 2 or 3 times we met. Now here is where I have to point out I am a straight man, I don't mind being caught staring at his wife's boobs so much. But just how hard is it to not stare at a cock! Think you can do it, then imagine he rearranges it, or walks towards you with it swinging from side to side... On the other hand these seem like good people. His Russian wife (topless) offers me some tea and in fact the conversation is some dose of, cock, normality.

I gather the Russian girl is known to be mad, and realise that this hot-cold attitude of the day will quickly drive me to madness. I can hear (lord) Saruman shouting "You have chosen the way of pain". Satisfied that to various extents and interpretations the open-relationship French porn star will "Take care of her" its time now for the next sketch. It's Monty Python's the holy grail, and "run away" is the order of the day. Be it from flying cow, badger, rabbit...So only now do I finally remember the conclusion of the first 23 years of my life: friends before girlfriends. (Ok can you tell I'm dressing that, but I'm not really someone that calls women "Hos", or his friends "Bros")

I get up pretty early, and some 6 roasting hot packed daytime buses later I'm back on Om Beach. Thank god for that... (As many people have pointed out I am an atheist, I will specify god to be thanking random chance, as a man may thank an inanimate object which has prevented his falling to his death)