London calling

Dirty little town on the Thames is calling you away- London Bombs, Eskimo Joe

Well, we are here, from the land of dingos and Vegemite, cold beer and warm beaches to the land of Big Ben, Placebo and cuppa teas, warm beer and cold beaches! That's right, we have hit the shores of the mother country. Up until know, the Queen's head on our money is the closest I have been to the British monarchy- I get nervous when the Queen and head come up in the same sentence......

So we are staying in a dapper part of town, right near Hyde Park. I have taken to saying 'ello guvna' and 'tally ho chaps' to everyone I meet- somehow it's different to people who say 'G'day mate' to every Australian they meet. Or maybe not.

But seriously, London is the most extreme juxtaposition to India- cold versus hot, clean versus dirty, expensive versus really really cheap. And after 5 months in Asia, the return to a western metropolis is a real eye opener. Unlike the inquisitive and sometimes intrusive staring of India, anonymity sets in fast in London. Eye contact is frowned upon, and apart from the backpacks, we blend into the background.

All in all, it feels nice to be in a large cosmopolitan city, and the first few days in London make a refreshing change from the wild back blocks of South East and Central Asia. Went for a stroll in Hyde Park yesterday, and today we are off to central London for a bit of a stroll along the Thames.

Ricky Ponting

The moment that most young Indian lads find out I am from Australia, cricket becomes the topic number one. And of course, because I come from Australia I am tarred with a similar brush of cricketing brilliance. From there, its a downward spiral through obscure cricket history and then statistics- run and strike rates. Cue the glazed eyes.

To make things interesting, I stir cricket fanatics up, suggesting that all Australians know the secret to our cricketing success. Of course I won't tell. Eyes widen and distress sets in.

I'm not into cricket, and the Indians I have spoken to know vastly more about current and historical cricket in Australia and the world than I will ever know. As anyone who has travelled in India knows, it is sometimes difficult to get common ground with Indian people. They clearly love the game, and I just don't have the heart to tell them that I don't care for it at all.

India for Indians

After 2 and a half weeks in Rishikesh, the decision to spread our wings is not an easy one. Rishikesh is like an oasis in a desert of intensity, and this is hammered home when we arrive in Dehra Dun, just an hours drive north. Uninspired by the hotels and scenery, we jump into a taxi and head up the hill to Mussoorie, dubbed the 'Queen of Hill Stations'. I am really impressed on the the drive up as road signs stress environmental awareness and the importance of treating nature with respect.

Mussoorie is where well heeled Indians go for holidays, and it is refreshing to see Indian families relaxing together. I visit Kempty Falls, where swarms splash about in the pools below falling waters. A couple of new acquaintances, Ashish and Harsh, insist on my swimming with them. It is really, really cold- and muddy too.

Indians really enjoy the muddy waters of Kempty Falls, but I decide it is not for me and retreat to the shore. We check out some of the other sights around Mussoorie with our friendly local guides, and have an eventful couple of days.

Still, I can't understand how Mussoorie, with rubbish everywhere, rates among Indians as extremely beautiful. Seems the environmentally aware signs have little influence. Maybe I'm just spoilt in Australia, but I really value a distinct lack of litter where I choose to live, holiday and swim.

The pretzel factory

With less than a month until our UK adventure begins, we decide to visit an ashram for meditation and yoga. A little recharging and relaxation. So we sit in silence, chant Om, and bend ourselves like pretzels twice a day for 15 days- and apart from the food we forget we are in India. No noise, no pollution and a really relaxed vibe.

Because it's so quiet all of the time, its hard to reference what it is like "outside"- but departure brings a sharp distinction. Traffic is loud, and smells pungent, but strangely enough, it bothers me a little less and I see people, and life in general, differently. The weeks of retreat at the ashram let me "see" people- their wants and thoughts before they say anything. I also "see" myself in a new light- considering my actions, reactions and interactions in a different way.

Got myself into some pretty interesting postures, and overall, left feeling light, flexible and energetic. Perfect frame of mind and body, and just what I wanted before the UK adventures begin.

Other residents at the ashram included monkeys, which were a constant source of inspiration, amusement and wonder. No hesitation to approach for food, or just to watch- some of them are as curious as I am.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hello everyone!

Had some technical difficulties, so have been unable to upload photos for the past few weeks. All sorted though, and 14 new posts are now available to get your teeth into.

Go nuts!

Simon

You don't win friends with salad

Simpson's fans amongst you would recall the episode 'Lisa the Vegetarian', where the entire family cruelly tease Lisa for her vegetarianism with the taunt: ' You don't win friends with salad!' I bet you're singing as you read. You are, aren't you!

Well, in Rishikesh, salad makes more friends than you can imagine. Most of the menus are all vegetarian, but unlike strict Hardiwar to the south, eggs are permitted. I think of carnivore friends at home and smile- Rishikesh is certainly not the place for a flesh-of-beast lover!

But I am in my element- it is so much cooler than Agra, yoga centres are dotted across the hillsides that skirt the holy Ganges, and every night, chanting and singing echoes up the valley. Right now, we are lazing on the balcony, buffeted by the cool Ganges breezes as it flows up to our room. Heavenly!

Agra and the Taj Mahal

Feel it HOT, HOT, HOT! Our Agran song.

It is really hot, blisteringly hot, with the mercury climbing to 48! I didn't know it could get that high. It really feels like we are in the Orient- the camels are a nice touch and that magnificent marble monument looms on the skyline- we hit it at dawn the next morning, hoping to miss the crowds and the heat.

The story goes that the Taj was constructed by a grieving husband after his wife passed away giving birth to their 14 child. The marble construction is a spectacular display of love, but 14 children- really! No wonder she passed on.

Seriously though, the Taj Mahal is an architectural wonder. I'm not really into architecture, but this is seriously impressive. Walls are engraved with precious stones and magnificent calligraphy, and the marble is brilliantly white- so much so that it almost glows in the morning light.