Hello, Nepal: 23 – 24.09.2013

We are in Nepal! I can’t believe we didn’t wake up in India this morning, just as much as I can’t believe we are actually here in Nepal – so much so, I had to write it twice!

Our flight here to Kathmandu yesterday evening was wonderful; just over 2 hours in length, due to the fact that our plane had to circle above the airport for around 45 minutes whilst we waited for the storm below to move along. Eventually, the storm moved enough for our plane to land, but not enough for us to fly down to the ground without first passing through thick grey clouds, rain and turbulence. Excellent.

Flying over the snow capped and green mountains was spectacular, and landing onto the tarmac, I was so excited for what awaited us here in this new country. We only have one week here, so we’re going to enjoy it. Already, I know this is a country we will be coming back to – for a lot longer next time.
We passed through immigration and the on-arrival visa procedures with ease, and caught a taxi to the home of our couch surfing host. It’s really lovely to be welcomed immediately into the home of a local, and we’re happy to be here. Tonight we fall asleep in Nepal, fending of ferocious-sized mosquitoes with insatiable appetites and looking forward to what’s to come.

Our first morning in Nepal began with bleary eyes and a feeling of utter exhaustion, over a traditional Nepalese breakfast; LOTS of rice, steamed mustard leaves and a watery-dahl; it was delicious. After breakfast, we made our way out to the busy street to find a taxi to the Myanmar Embassy, via a money exchange place in order to get USD; something we should’ve done at the airport when it was convenient, and what we thought would be a simple, straightforward process. This was not the case.

It was very difficult to find a money exchange place (we should’ve gone straight to Thamel where every second shop exchanges cash!), and when we did, it was an ordeal.
Our waiting taxi driver, who had originally been confident about knowing where the embassy was – according to our map that had it marked – must’ve very quickly forgotten his way around because we stopped maybe 10 or so times before someone kindly informed him – and us – that the embassy had actually moved. A phone call to them directed him to the right place, for which he demanded another 700 rupees. Fine, whatever, I’m not arguing right now – just get us there before 1pm so we can apply! We are SO pressed for time – it takes 3 working days for the visa to be approved – and we need it by Friday, so it HAD to be done today. It was all a little stressful, and when we arrived at the embassy and realised that Australians are able to get a visa on arrival now in Myanmar, we sighed and I wished somehow, we’d been able to find this out earlier – before we took the trouble to make our way out here. Previous attempts to research this had failed to confirm or deny that an on arrival visa was possible, and since we were now there, we filled out the forms and handed over our passports. We can pick them up on Friday at 1pm. Done.
HOURS later, a little bit exhausted but mostly relieved that finally our Myanmar visa will be sorted, we walked out of the Myanmar Embassy and into the waiting taxi and headed to Thamel – the tourist area of Kathmandu. We were no longer in the mood to visit the famous temple sites we’d been planning to earlier this morning, and instead, wanted some chai and momos, and to simply wander about.

Thamel was a cool place to visit for a little while; incredibly touristic, overpriced and full of hippie clothing and people wanting to help you book trekking adventures, but never the less alive and bustling and busy and INTERESTING. My favourite way to travel is to simply walk around and get a feel for the area, rather than hop from famous sight to famous sight, and this is exactly how we spent our afternoon. That was, of course, after we sat for a few hours in a lovely little restaurant sipping chai, using the free wi-fi and napping on the cushions on the floor.

Thamel was a great place to look at/find things like souvenirs, handicrafts, hippie clothing, Nepalese music, trekking gear, touristy food, cool cafes, books , prayer flags, clothing, – anything and everything no doubt, and of course, at hugely inflated prices. We did spoil ourselves however, despite this, and Em managed to barter down the price for a couple of pairs of thai fishermen pants to just a slightly inflated price. Winning.

Our evening was spent back at our host’s home, where we chatted and attempted to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Tomorrow, we’re off to our next destination, Bhaktapur, a historic town just a short drive away (around 13kms) from Kathmandu, set in the Kathmandu Valley. It’s meant to be incredibly beautiful, and I’m really looking forward to a relaxing place to simply wonder about and enjoy.

See you again, India: 23.09.2013

It’s hard to believe that right now we are sitting in the New Delhi International Airport, awaiting our flight to Kathmandu, Nepal. Our Indian adventures have come to an end.

Jacob and I just officially conquered two months of traveling in India; we stayed healthy and well, incident free and for the most part, unscathed by the touters: that in itself deserves some sort of traveller’s medal, surely.

This morning we woke up in our “home” in Delhi, India, and tonight we’ll fall asleep somewhere in Kathmandu, Nepal.

Somehow, I don’t think we’ve quite grasped the fact that after two months of traveling here in crazy, chaotic, exhilarating India, we are now leaving. Oddly enough, after only a few weeks ago wanting to up and leave right there and then in Jaipur, it now feels as though we are leaving India at the perfect time, and I’m so happy about that.

Will we miss India? I think, of course, there will be many aspects of this country and the lifestyle we were leading here that we will miss, but at the same time, I think we’ve grown a bit weary of so many of the constant extremes that India threw at us daily. It’s not that we can’t handle India – we have handled this country very well, I believe – but, more so, it’s that we have enjoyed enough of it for now. In my opinion, whilst India is indeed incredible, it is also a very challenging country for a foreigner to travel in long-term.

Looking back over the past two months, it’s been a whirlwind that has often been quite difficult at times to imagine, comprehend and describe. Surreal. Awe Inspiring. Extravagant. Shocking. There were places that left us speechless, mouths open in awe. Other places left us shocked, inspired and moved.
India may have been challenging at times, but it was never boring; always interesting and alive and buzzing – something we admire and love about this country.
India was everything and at the same time nothing like we imagined, expected and prepared for; sometimes it was a country we were completely ready for, and other times we were left shocked and confronted to our cores.

India’s diversity amazes me, and looking back over the last two months, it’s impressive to recall our journey…

We arrived into chaotic and bustling Chennai, where the streets were a buzz of food and chai, people and traffic, and we were high on the excitement of such a “new world” surrounding us.
From Chennai we traveled to French Pondicherry, with the help of a kind stranger who shared just a few hours of friendship with us over a memorable lunch.
From French Pondi to dusty Trichy, then our first over night bus ride to the colourful and magnificent hill station of Ooty, where we pulled out the jumpers buried at the bottom of our packs and explored Jacob’s family history in nearby Lovedale.
From Ooty to Conoor, to Coimbatore to Alleppey on another overnight bus, where we paddled down Kerala’s backwaters, got caught in monsoon rains and marveled at the beauty and simplicity of life along the water.
From Alleppey we traveled to Kochi on a vomit filled bus, where we found tourists and cafes, art and Chinese fishing nets, great people and a fascinating history.
Our first Indian Railways train then took us 16 hours north of Kochi to Goa, where monsoon season meant we came, admired the beauty and left very quickly, catching our first Bollywood movie at the cinema before the overnight sleeper bus (double bed with sheets, pillows and all!) to Hampi – a magical place with a quaint bazaar and scenery that will remain etched in my memory.
Another overnight bus from Hampi saw us rolling into Mumbai the following morning; cheating and scams were quickly forgotten when our couch surfing host welcomed us and made our stay in this big city memorable for the right reasons.
Mumbai to Udaipur on another overnight train, and we were finally in Rajisthan; looking out over the spectacular city from our rooftop balcony as we chatted with other travelers was “exactly like the India I imagined…”
Udaipur to Ajmer and Pushkar: two places we saw, and probably wont ever see again, before a nightmare bus ride to Jodhpur, where we found solace and new friends at our guesthouse near the clock tower, and admired the mighty fort on the rooftop every evening.
Jodhpur to Jaisalmer, where we enjoyed mutton curry at our couch surfing host’s home and took a memorable 2 day trek into the Thar desert on camel back: an adventure I’m still smiling about.
Jaisalmer to Bikaner: another desert town that offered up some interesting food, a very unique (rat) temple, lots of staring and mixed feelings towards India.
Bikaner to Jaipur, where we ate amazing street food and drank copious amounts of coffee, explored the mighty fort walls and booked tickets to Japan.
From Jaipur we traveled to Agra on the Shatabdi Express: a luxurious train ride (by Indian standards) that left me wishing we could’ve stayed on it longer. The Taj Mahal was spectacular, but the people we came into contact with in Agra forced us into Café Coffee Day for eight hours straight; we went into hiding whilst waiting for our overnight train.
Exhausted and anguishing about our travels, my memories of Lucknow include a filthy overnight train, horrible auto drivers and scheming, scamming cycle-rickshaw riders, impressive and delicious kebabs, kulfi, lassi and chaat, and some extremely hot weather.
With the end of India insight, feeling low and exhausted, we traveled wearily to Varanasi wondering what was in store. What we found was a city pulsating with religion, tradition, culture, spirituality, life and death. Awesome lassi and lots of poo are two other stand-out memories.
Departing Varanasi on our last overnight train journey in India (for now), we signed on the dotted line that, yes, we had been informed about common muggings, druggings and robberies on this particular train route, and arrived into Delhi, our final destination in India, planning to stay just one night. Instead, we stayed 7, and spent our time eating, cooking, enjoying, sharing and celebrating my birthday with our Japanese hosts…

What a journey. One I will never forget.

Today, we’re leaving India two weeks earlier than we originally planned, and it feels right. We go to Nepal with no regrets, after experiencing two months of massive highs, amazing adventures, fantastic people, frequent challenges, successes, some lows, and then ending on another fantastic high. India is a country we’ll come back to; a life time isn’t long enough to see everything here, but how lucky we are – and were – to have traveled throughout this country.

See you again, sometime, India.

A Week in Delhi, India: Part 2: 21 – 23.09.2013

It’s my birthday!

Today was amazing; a lot of fun with two special people. We woke and lazily had breakfast, chai, coffee and our daily yakkult. We were in no rush this morning with no real set plans; I wanted to visit Old Delhi and since our host had not yet been to that area, we decided Old Delhi was the go. I knew it would be chaotic and crowded, full of people and traffic and noise and mess, street food and street vendors, shops and historic sights; in my mind, a snapshot of the “real India” – whatever that means. I still haven’t quite grasped what the real India involves, it’s so diverse and ever changing, it seems.

It was wet today; heavy rains poured down for much of the day, but it didn’t dampen our fun. We took the train into Delhi, hopping off at Chandi Chowk and walking out into the chaos and madness that was Old Delhi. Walking around through the sprawl of people, traffic, umbrellas and puddles of water, we were all busy trying to navigate ourselves and the new surroundings – something which was quite difficult. People approached us and shop sellers invited us into their stores, or called out a series of “G’day mate” and “Konnichiwa;” I still wonder how they can assume our nationality so confidently (and correctly!).

We tried some various street foods: some chaat, aloo tikkia and kulfi falooda, and looked into the different shops and lane ways that were so over crowded with people riding motorbikes and shoppers busy buying gold and saris, men standing over vats of blackened oil and people eating kulfi and street foods beside the stalls.

We headed towards the Red Fort, and turned to cross the road when the rain began to pour down. Within minutes we were all soaked right through our clothing; drenched and dripping we wandered through the heavy rains trying to find shelter and the train station: we’d seen enough – for now – of Old Delhi.

We took a train from Chandi Chowk, first lining up for a train token with more than a thousand other people – absolute madness! The men in several queues were pushing and shoving, and the women’s queue, which was substantially shorter, wasn’t too much more civil. Our host, being so polite, explained to one girl who obviously tried to cut in front of us that “we are in a queue.” I don’t think that girl, or most of the people in the room, understood what a queue actually was, or involved – if they did, then it was a very different understanding to ours…

With a token in our hands, and no doubt a few bruises from the pushing and shoving happening behind us, we climbed through the security screenings and headed to Kahn Market area for some respite: we needed coffee and cake. After all, it’s my birthday today!

In the Kahn Market area, we looked around at some shops before we found a wonderful café with nice cake and coffee – we dried off and sipped our cups of deliciousness, sharing a slice of gooey chocolate cake between the three of us. The café doubled as a book shop, and after refueling we spent some time looking through the shelves; our host and I both enjoying the children’s book section and sharing our love for all the beautiful illustrations.

We stepped into one of the gourmet grocery shops and picked up some chicken breasts for this evenings dinner, then headed for the station and back “home” – some 60 minutes or so away by train.
The train system here never fails to impress me, it’s very clean and convenient, clearly signed and easy to negotiate and navigate. It really reminds me of the Japanese trains, although the rude people always pushing and shoving and generally doing whatever is necessary to get themselves a seat is not reminiscent of Japan trains in the slightest…

For dinner our host prepared an incredible Black Dahl and some beautiful salads, Jacob cooked chapatti and we made a style of grilled chicken that we usually cook back home… a mix of Indian, Japanese and Australian for dinner; amazing food, amazing people, amazing memories…

More chai, more good conversation, and I go to bed tonight technically one year older, but still feeling like I did when I was sixteen… okay, okay, maybe eighteen… fine! fine!…I know I’m not eighteen any more, but I am absolutely not a day over twenty one!

September 22nd marks our 55th day in India – our final day in this country – tomorrow we leave for Nepal. Wow.

It’s still unofficially my birthday today, according to our host (and me – every day is my unofficial birthday!), so we celebrated as we have every morning, with spicy home made chai prepared by Jacob, and a big breakfast – with Vegemite, of course!
Our host taught me some Japanese words as we sat around the table, and I diligently put them into every sentence I could for the rest of the day. I’ll be fluent before we get to Japan now…

Our second host comes home today with her boyfriend (whose birthday was on the 14th, just a week ago), and we’re having a sort of joint birthday party this evening: Our hosts are – incredibly generously – preparing a Japanese feast for this evening. I feel very spoilt.

Jake and I had no plans today: we traveled to New Delhi station and went to Connaught’s Place again. We wandered around for a while and then met up with an Indian couple – the girl who, funnily enough, I met through my blog. It was a really nice afternoon; we met and chatted in Café Coffee Day for ages, and they helped us to buy some beautiful biscuits from Wengers, an institution it seems in Connaught’s Place. We gained a great insight into India through speaking with them, and were grateful to meet them both!

Traveling back on the train to our “Japanese home in India,” it was a bittersweet feeling: tonight was to be the final hurrah, and we’ve really loved every minute of our stay – we’ll miss our Japanese family.

Arriving home, our host and her boyfriend Toshi were already home, and everyone was busy preparing everything. We showered and got ready for our party, and chit chatted with everyone whilst Jacob whipped up some more pavlova mix.

Dinner was an absolute feast; Japanese food, delicious inari, salads and beautiful vegetable dishes, along with tandoori chicken especially for Toshi, who hadn’t tasted it yet. There were six of us in total and we sat around the table chatting and eating – it felt so much like home. Yoshi – the neighbour from upstairs – bought a bottle of wine, and it mixed well with everything else going on.

With dinner finished, we cleared the table and took the little meringues we’d baked out of the oven.

…and then the lights went out and our host bought out a birthday cake. Not just any cake, but one with a whopping big photograph of Jacob and I on it! After blowing out the candles and fighting back tears of amazement and gratitude, I asked how and where they got such a cake… “Only in India” was the reply.

This massive 1kg cake, complete with our smiling faces staring back, was cut into just 6 massive pieces and served in tiny bowls; cake overflowing from the rim. It was hilarious to see everyone trying to negotiate their slab of cake, and Jacob and I were both struggling to eat the quarter of cake we’d cut from one of the six big slabs. On top of the cake, we had chai, biscuits and meringues, which were all a bit of a hit and left us all feeling full and sleepy.

Toshi was flying out late this evening, so eventually it was time to say goodbye to him – we sent him back to Japan with a bag of meringues. The evening came to a quiet end, we chatted a bit more and lolled about on sugar highs before eventually climbing into bed.

I can’t believe that tomorrow we’re off to Nepal. Tomorrow we have to say goodbye to our hosts and – bittersweetly – to India, where we’ve spent the last two months traveling and exploring. It’s hard to understand it, and I don’t think it’s quite sunk in that after tomorrow, we’re not going to be in India any more. A few days ago I was desperate to leave, I didn’t want to come to Delhi and I simply wanted out. Now, I will leave feeling good and content, and I couldn’t have asked for more. I know I’ll come back to this country again one day, and I’ll be more prepared for what is in store here. I will never forget India, nor my experiences and feelings in this country, and I am both grateful for what I’ve experienced, and grateful to be moving on.

That’s a rap.

A Week in Delhi, India, Part 1: 16 – 20.09.2013

Arriving into Delhi four hours later than we were expecting, thanks to train delays, I’d endured all the staring I felt I possibly could have and was grateful when the train finally pulled up in New Delhi station.  Packs heavy on our backs, we queued up (an Indian style queue, of course, which naturally involved cutting-in, pushing, shoving and no real order) and paid to leave our backpacks with the very inefficient and disinterested cloak room man.

Free of our packs, and still with no idea of what the hell our plan was now that we were here, we really needed to sort ourselves out. Firstly, we needed to post off the bag of stuff we’d accumulated in India and no longer wanted to carry around nor throw/give away, secondly, we needed to phone the Myanmar Embassy in Kathmandu, Nepal, and find out if we could apply for our visa there or if we’d have to do it here in India, and finally, we needed to call our couch surfing host and see if it was still okay for us to come along to her home. I was starting to question whether or not we should even bother couch surfing; I was ready to leave India and we contemplated just booking ourselves a flight to Nepal for tomorrow. However, we decided we needed to give Delhi a chance and both of us wanted to meet our couch surfing host, so we persevered.

Fighting our way through the crowds of touters and people obviously lying to our faces, we managed to find a public phone and call the Myanmar Embassy in Nepal, which promised we could organize our visas there within three working days. Done. I was in no mood to deal with anything in India that I didn’t have to at that moment. With the visa concern now resolved, we headed to Connaught’s Place –  a very rich area of Delhi filled with fancy shops and cafes and restaurants and well-dressed locals. We took solace briefly in a cafe and made a basic plan for what our next move would be; how much longer would we stay in India, when would we go to Nepal, should we get another iced coffee? All those sorts of difficult decisions that needed to be made.

With a bulging bag weighing me down, we decided out next priority was to post this bag of crap home. The post office was very near by, but of course that didn’t mean that the act of posting some items home was going to be a simple, stress-free, pain-free, hassle-free or quick process. But then again, by now I have learned that the above mentioned processes do not often exist here.

After I had gone to three counters, found myself a man who would wrap and sew my parcel together with calico and a needle and thread, found a pen, gone back to another two counters to get the correct piece of paper, gone back to the parcel sewing man, paid him and waited patiently whilst he sewed my already well-wrapped parcel shut, gone to another counter to attempt to find a felt-tip marker, found a marker, written the address, struggled to meet the requirements for a sender address in India (seeing as I am a tourist!), written a fake sender address, waited a bit more, filled out a form, waited in line a bit more, got told to fill in another form, waited a bit more, and then finally got told I had to go and get my visa and passport photocopied before the parcel could be sent, I realised that this whole “send my goods home to Australia thing” would not be so simple.
Down a few lane ways, in a shack under a leaking, damaged roof, a tiny Indian guy gladly photocopied my passport and visa for a whopping 10 rupees. Strutting back towards the counter with my documents, I was thinking this might actually be the end of the procedure and after more than an hour, my parcel might actually get processed, but no. It was then some cutting, some gluing (similar to primary school when the teachers give you the shitty, cheap glue that doesn’t stick to anything, except for the fact that in India they don’t even offer you a paint brush); I was forced to use my hands as a glue brush in an attempt to stick my very important documents to the material coating of my parcel that was about to travel across the world.
Handing over a parcel wrapped in calico that looked more like a kindergarten paper-mache/patchwork art work, I paid for the ‘slow service’ and watched as the staff member typed some information into a computer and then hurled my belongings over his shoulder onto the ground. My Indian post office ordeal was over… but who knows if that parcel will ever make it back to Australia.

Parcel sent, it was already mid afternoon and time to head out to our host’s home; a 50 minute train ride away. We were worried how we’d handle packed peak hour trains with our backpacks, especially after experiencing Mumbai’s metro madness…And then, after purchasing a ticket in a normal sort of way, we hopped onto a train that was not only modern, but also fast, clean and air conditioned; it very much reminded me of trains in Japan. For a second, I wondered if we were still in India, but then I saw a pile of men – one picking his nose – sitting all over each other on the designated ladies seat whilst three elderly women stood, and I was bought right back to reality.

At the station near by our host’s home, we were greeted with hugs and smiles. Her driver took us to her home, where we met her house mate Michiko who squealed with delight when she saw us and gave us a great big hug. Instantly, we felt at home.
Whilst we relaxed and showered – feeling disgusting after two days of not showering and sweating in the Indian heat – Masami and Michiko prepared us an incredible feast of home-cooked Indian curries. They invited their Japanese neighbour from upstairs, and together, the five of us enjoyed the company of new friends and amazing food.

Within just a few hours, the feeling of intense need to get out of India and away to Nepal as soon as possible began to diminish. We still didn’t know when we’d be leaving India, but it wouldn’t be tomorrow.

The following few days were spent in a really relaxed sort of manner, choosing to come and go as we pleased and take things a bit easier. Basically, it felt like we were attempting to recover here.

On our first night with our hosts we discovered their love for Vegemite, so on our first full day in Delhi we made it our mission to find a jar of the stuff for them. This search led us to Kahn Market, a high-end fancy area of Delhi where many diplomats, expats and tourists come to look through nice shops, eat and drink at fancy cafes, scour through book shops and purchase high quality foods from the many international supermarkets and grocery stores. Milka and Ritter Sport chocolate, quality imported cheeses and meats, jams, sauces, beer, and of course, our beloved Vegemite, were just some of the items lining the shelves. It was an interesting place to spend a few hours.

We discovered the INA market area a few stations away from Kahn Market, when we were searching for Dilli Haat – a food and craft market we’d wanted to visit. Missing Dilli Haat completely, we spent time wandering through INA instead, finding much of the same products as we did in Kahn Market – including a LOT of Vegemite – as well as other bits and pieces and other interesting things.

On our second evening with our hosts we had an Okonomiyaki Japanese feast – so much incredible Japanese food that we were all able to cook and eat and share together around their table. We loved being there and felt so welcomed and at home; I could feel our exhaustion starting to ease through new friendship, comfort and good, healthy food. Jacob and I had visited the supermarket earlier in the day with the hope to find ingredients to bake ANZAC buscits, but we had found none of the main ingredients and had instead found sugar, nutella, eggs and pomegranate – enough to make some kick-ass mini-pavalovas; Jacob hand-beating the egg whites and sugar for almost an hour. This dessert was a real winner, and over the next week or so with our hosts and anyone else who joined us for dinner, we all consumed too many mini pavs to count (or think about without feeling guilty and fat).

Soon after arriving in Delhi and meeting our hosts, our plans changed from leaving immediately to staying for a week: it was going to be my birthday on the 21st and why leave before then when we could stay and celebrate!? One of our host’s boyfriend was flying over from Japan and they were going away together for a few days, but she’d be back and all of us could celebrate together. It suddenly made no sense to leave early – we were having such a wonderful time, relaxing and recovering and eating and making new friends. I was also suffering from a horrible cold, and a few days were spent in a very low-key manner whilst I tried to recover; there was no way I was going to Japan in any less than 100% top condition.

Days were filled in easily, we came and went, took the train here and there when and if we chose to, we spent a lot of time cooking and even more time eating, talking late into the night sometimes, sharing music, movies, stories, culture, language and lots of home-made chai, chapatti and food. We were able to do little things we’d been missing, like washing our clothing in an actual washing machine, showering with hot water and cooking our own food. We cooked dinner one evening, and Jacob attempted to bake bread which, we learned the hard way, does not cook well in a convection oven. One evening was spent choking on the smoke coming from a loaf of bread that had cooked from the inside out, and caught fire. Lucky we’d all smelt it quickly, before any damage was caused! He’d prepared two balls of dough, and after the first mishap, a quick google search explained the best method to bake bread in that specific type of oven. The second loaf was more of a success.

We visited very few areas of Delhi during our few days there; often choosing respite over sight-seeing. I drank a lot of bubble cup, Jacob cooked a lot of chapatti and chai, our host cooked incredible foods and the three of us – sometimes four of us when the upstairs neighbour came down for a meal and a chat – had a lot of fun.

We visited Dilli Haat again one day where the momos were average and the crafts the same as everywhere else except much more expensive, and ventured into New Delhi station very briefly to check out the touristic area of Paraganj – which we very quickly left, but not before more foolish touters tried to mess with us and tell us we were apparently going the wrong way and should absolutely follow them as they are experts in this area (and no doubt at scamming money from naïve foreigners too). There’s no fooling these two whities any more!

Amazing how in just a few days of being away from the intensity of pollution, heavy traffic, touters, scammers, people harassing us and hoards of people, entering back into the sprawl of craziness left us overwhelmed, frustrated and impatient.

We went shopping nearby to where we were staying one day; I bought a pair of jeans and a jumper in preparation for Japan. Our clothing has become embedded with so much dirt to the point it can not be removed, and I refuse to walk around Japan in brown trekking pants that were once a light beige colour, and a streaky light-blue faded t-shirt that was once a dark navy colour. Besides, how could I pass up brand new Levi jeans for $25 AUD, when back home they’d cost me more than $100.

We arrived in Delhi on a Monday, the start of the working week, and by Friday evening, the end of the working week, Jacob and I had become quite at home with our host. Our second host was still away with her boyfriend, due back on Sunday. Saturday is my birthdayi, and Sunday is my non-birthday birthday; our host will be back with her boyfriend and we’re having a party. The details are being kept top secret, but I am so excited to be here with our little Japanese family in Delhi. It’s funny how things have a way of turning out. We needed this – we needed to end our time in India on a high with good people, healthy food and respite from the intensity and overload that India so often offers. I certainly feel that’s how things are happening here, and it was just so much luck that our paths crossed.