Alas, the centre was closed for the off-season. As long as it's not administered orally, I'd give it a go.
I wonder if it will fix my runner's knee...
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Therapy
Spotted on the wall of a herbal medicine centre in Pushkar:
Alas, the centre was closed for the off-season. As long as it's not administered orally, I'd give it a go.
I wonder if it will fix my runner's knee...
Alas, the centre was closed for the off-season. As long as it's not administered orally, I'd give it a go.
I wonder if it will fix my runner's knee...
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
My New Favourite Accessory: The Poor Man's GPS
This has come in handy more times than I can count.
Thanks to family for buying. And thanks to Dan for suggesting.
Elephanta Island
Ok, so I should make this clear, this blog isn't going to be in perfect chronological order. Yes, I could lie to you and pretend that all these events occurred in the same sequence that they appear on the page. Would you know any better? Probably not. But I'm an honest guy, and I will endeavor to make this an honest blog.
So my friends, right now we're about to leave the deserts of Rajasthan and take a trip back in time. All the way back to last Monday...
So, here we are, standing at the Gateway of Inida on the western side of Mumbai's peninsular. From here we'll board a rickety old boat and take a rather unscenic 10km ride across the polluted waters of the busy harbour, finally docking an hour later at Elephanta Island.
The only reason to visit Elephanta Island is to see Elepthanta Caves. Well, that and the food, which despite the remote location, was about half the price of meals in Mumbai. Anyway, for the caves alone it's well worth the inconvenience of the boat trip.
The place is pretty spectacular. Actually, it's very spectacular. There are literally dozens of intricately carved Hindu sculptures inside these caves, some dating as far back as 600A.D. And the grand entrance to the caves looks like it was imported straight from from Petra.
About 250 years ago, the Portuguese went on a rampage and vandalised a lot of the sculptures by using them for target practice. Indians now believe that Oporto is something of an official apology from the Portuguese, an attempt to right the wrongs of the 17th century through culinary compensation.
Despite having been defaced by the flat-chicken kings, the sculptures still look amazing.
I wish I could post more photos, but uploading is a painfully slow process. So I'm afraid you'll just have to suffer with having only the odd pic here and there. I'll try and make up for it with additional ramblings.
So my friends, right now we're about to leave the deserts of Rajasthan and take a trip back in time. All the way back to last Monday...
So, here we are, standing at the Gateway of Inida on the western side of Mumbai's peninsular. From here we'll board a rickety old boat and take a rather unscenic 10km ride across the polluted waters of the busy harbour, finally docking an hour later at Elephanta Island.
The only reason to visit Elephanta Island is to see Elepthanta Caves. Well, that and the food, which despite the remote location, was about half the price of meals in Mumbai. Anyway, for the caves alone it's well worth the inconvenience of the boat trip.
The place is pretty spectacular. Actually, it's very spectacular. There are literally dozens of intricately carved Hindu sculptures inside these caves, some dating as far back as 600A.D. And the grand entrance to the caves looks like it was imported straight from from Petra.
About 250 years ago, the Portuguese went on a rampage and vandalised a lot of the sculptures by using them for target practice. Indians now believe that Oporto is something of an official apology from the Portuguese, an attempt to right the wrongs of the 17th century through culinary compensation.
Despite having been defaced by the flat-chicken kings, the sculptures still look amazing.
I wish I could post more photos, but uploading is a painfully slow process. So I'm afraid you'll just have to suffer with having only the odd pic here and there. I'll try and make up for it with additional ramblings.
Breakfast
Aside from the banana, this was my first encounter with every other dish on the tray. I still have no idea what any of it is, but it was all delicious.
When Pushkar to Shove
Pushkar has turned out to be great little town, despite the fact that we're at the end of the dry season, so all that's left of Pushkar Lake is a few muddy puddles.
Pushkar is a Hindu holy town, so the place is booze free. Eating meat and kissing are also banned. Aside from being a holy place, it's also tourist magnet, so it's very well catered for westerners. There aren't many of us (it's off-season), but I've seen more white faces here in the last 24 hours than I did in 4 days in Mumbai.
The down side of tourism is that it also brings out the touts. There is heaps of them, and they're pushy. You can't take 2 steps here without someone making a grab for your money. It isn't always easy to be polite and forceful at the same time.
The hardest part is that it's impossible to differentiate those who want to make your wallet lighter, and those that just want to have a chat and get to know you. It shouldn't be, but my first reaction is one of cynicism to anyone that greats me with "hello, my friend".
That aside, everything else about the place is lovely. Compared to Mumbai, Pushkar feels like an outdoor library. My hotel is a quiet little place just off the town's main rd. It's basic, but the setting is gorgeous - my room opens into directly into the hotel's green courtyard. I also have my own bathroom, which is a nice plus. It's also only AU$2.50 a night, which is an even nicer plus.
Pushkar is a Hindu holy town, so the place is booze free. Eating meat and kissing are also banned. Aside from being a holy place, it's also tourist magnet, so it's very well catered for westerners. There aren't many of us (it's off-season), but I've seen more white faces here in the last 24 hours than I did in 4 days in Mumbai.
The down side of tourism is that it also brings out the touts. There is heaps of them, and they're pushy. You can't take 2 steps here without someone making a grab for your money. It isn't always easy to be polite and forceful at the same time.
The hardest part is that it's impossible to differentiate those who want to make your wallet lighter, and those that just want to have a chat and get to know you. It shouldn't be, but my first reaction is one of cynicism to anyone that greats me with "hello, my friend".
That aside, everything else about the place is lovely. Compared to Mumbai, Pushkar feels like an outdoor library. My hotel is a quiet little place just off the town's main rd. It's basic, but the setting is gorgeous - my room opens into directly into the hotel's green courtyard. I also have my own bathroom, which is a nice plus. It's also only AU$2.50 a night, which is an even nicer plus.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Sunni Side Up
I arrived in Pushkar this afternoon after an epic train trip from Mumbai.
After checking out of my Mumbai hotel at 1pm, I started on my way to Bandra station in the northern burbs of Mumbai, and from there I would catch the 9pm train to Ajmer. It only took an hour to get to Bandra, which meant I had 7 hours to kill in waiting room - 35 degrees and 700% humidity meant that exploring with my backpack on wasn't an option.
It's been so humid that even just blinking makes me sweat.
The train arrived and left on time. I was travelling in a 'sleeper' car, but at the start of journey all the beds are still in seat-mode. So I sat with an Indian family and read my book while they passed around the various courses of their pre-packed dinner, never once forgetting to offer each plate to me too.
The sincere generosity of people here has totally blown me away, but I'll write more on that topic another day...
After dinner we all slept. I swapped beds with some woman so that she didn't have to climb the skinny 10' ladder to the top berth. The hypnotic rocking of the train sent me straight into a deep sleep. I didn't open my eyes again until well into Tuesday.
Since I'd moved beds, I'd also moved away from my newly adopted Indian family. So instead I woke up in the middle of a group of young Sunnis on their way to Ajmer where they were working as site volunteers at a Muslim festival. Most of them were students, and all spoke better English than I do. They grilled me endlessly about Australia, my education, family, cricket, and even my salary. I told them what I earnt each year - they gasped - hours later I realised that they mistakenly thought that's what I was paid each month. So for almost quarter of the 19-hour journey they sat there looking at me and thinking "this guy earns close to a million bucks a year, but he's still too tight to fork out $4 for an airconditioned carriage".
They still gave me food and bought me tea even when they thought I was a millionaire.
The train ride was long, but entertaining and generally awesome. Open doors mean you can hang right outside the carriage and stick your face into the hot, semi-desert wind while the massive diesel cruises at nearly 100km/h. And constantly - and I mean constantly - a stream of service staff patrol the halls so you're never more than 4 seconds away from food, drinks, sweets, or a hot chai tea.
After a long wait in the station, and even longer train ride, plus a short trip on an auto-rickshaw followed by a bus ride through the mountains, I finally arrived at Lake Pushkar, 30 hours after I left my Mumbai hotel.
I then had the best shower of my life.
After checking out of my Mumbai hotel at 1pm, I started on my way to Bandra station in the northern burbs of Mumbai, and from there I would catch the 9pm train to Ajmer. It only took an hour to get to Bandra, which meant I had 7 hours to kill in waiting room - 35 degrees and 700% humidity meant that exploring with my backpack on wasn't an option.
It's been so humid that even just blinking makes me sweat.
The train arrived and left on time. I was travelling in a 'sleeper' car, but at the start of journey all the beds are still in seat-mode. So I sat with an Indian family and read my book while they passed around the various courses of their pre-packed dinner, never once forgetting to offer each plate to me too.
The sincere generosity of people here has totally blown me away, but I'll write more on that topic another day...
After dinner we all slept. I swapped beds with some woman so that she didn't have to climb the skinny 10' ladder to the top berth. The hypnotic rocking of the train sent me straight into a deep sleep. I didn't open my eyes again until well into Tuesday.
Since I'd moved beds, I'd also moved away from my newly adopted Indian family. So instead I woke up in the middle of a group of young Sunnis on their way to Ajmer where they were working as site volunteers at a Muslim festival. Most of them were students, and all spoke better English than I do. They grilled me endlessly about Australia, my education, family, cricket, and even my salary. I told them what I earnt each year - they gasped - hours later I realised that they mistakenly thought that's what I was paid each month. So for almost quarter of the 19-hour journey they sat there looking at me and thinking "this guy earns close to a million bucks a year, but he's still too tight to fork out $4 for an airconditioned carriage".
They still gave me food and bought me tea even when they thought I was a millionaire.
The train ride was long, but entertaining and generally awesome. Open doors mean you can hang right outside the carriage and stick your face into the hot, semi-desert wind while the massive diesel cruises at nearly 100km/h. And constantly - and I mean constantly - a stream of service staff patrol the halls so you're never more than 4 seconds away from food, drinks, sweets, or a hot chai tea.
After a long wait in the station, and even longer train ride, plus a short trip on an auto-rickshaw followed by a bus ride through the mountains, I finally arrived at Lake Pushkar, 30 hours after I left my Mumbai hotel.
I then had the best shower of my life.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Running Away From The Rain
The Monsoon is threatening to kick in any minute now (it's already almost 2 weeks late), so I've decided to head north and hide out in the mountains until the worst of it is over. Mumbai receives up to 10 metres 1,000 millimetres of rain every month during the Monsoon!
Tomorrow, I'm taking an overnight train to the city of Ajmer in Rajasthan. I bought my tight-ass-class ticket for this 19 hour, 970km trip for the princely sum of 332 rupees (AU$8.50). From Ajmer, I'll take a bus down to the small lakeside town of Pushkar. And if it's not too wet (i'm taking about rain, not the lake), I'll stay there for a few days and relax. Otherwise, it'll be on to Delhi.
Tomorrow, I'm taking an overnight train to the city of Ajmer in Rajasthan. I bought my tight-ass-class ticket for this 19 hour, 970km trip for the princely sum of 332 rupees (AU$8.50). From Ajmer, I'll take a bus down to the small lakeside town of Pushkar. And if it's not too wet (i'm taking about rain, not the lake), I'll stay there for a few days and relax. Otherwise, it'll be on to Delhi.
Relative Humidity 97%. Max 34 degrees.
For real.
I'm drinking 4 litres of water a day and I'm still dehydrated. I don't even sweat this much when I run.
My New Favourite Game
My new favourite game is not getting run over. And here in Mumbai, it's not an easy game to play.
The roads are packed. There are no line markings to speak of. There are traffic lights, but no one acknowledges them. There are zebra crossings, but I've not once seen a car stop, slow down, or even glance left or right before driving through one.
Anyway, amongst all the chaos, there does seem to be a small amount of order. I've spent a lot of time walking the streets since I arrived, and I think I'm starting to get a good feel for the road rules. So based on my observations, I've complied them into a handy list in case you ever decide to brave the insanity that is the Mumbai road network:
If you are...
It's the soundtrack to Mumbai.
The roads are packed. There are no line markings to speak of. There are traffic lights, but no one acknowledges them. There are zebra crossings, but I've not once seen a car stop, slow down, or even glance left or right before driving through one.
Anyway, amongst all the chaos, there does seem to be a small amount of order. I've spent a lot of time walking the streets since I arrived, and I think I'm starting to get a good feel for the road rules. So based on my observations, I've complied them into a handy list in case you ever decide to brave the insanity that is the Mumbai road network:
If you are...
- Turning Left - Honk Your Horn
- Turning Right - Honk Your Horn
- Speeding Up - Honk Your Horn
- Slowing Down - Honk Your Horn
- Changing Gear - Honk Your Horn
- Changing Lane - Honk Your Horn
- Changing Radio Station - Honk Your Horn
- Driving Forward - Honk Your Horn
- Driving Backward - Honk Your Horn
- Acknowledging a Friend - Honk Your Horn
- Expressing Anger - Honk Your Horn
- Expressing Love - Honk Your Horn
- Expressing Confusion - Honk Your Horn
- Expressing Gratitude - Honk Your Horn
- Blinking - Honk Your Horn
- Scratching - Honk Your Horn
- Sniffing (or not sniffing) - Honk Your Horn
- Breathing In - Honk Your Horn
- Breathing Out - Honk Your Horn
- Not Breathing - Honk Your Horn
It's the soundtrack to Mumbai.
Losing My Indian Virginity
Well, I'm here. Finally. Woo!
The flight was on time and fairly uneventful. The only real drama along the way was when my in-flight entertainment system spazed-out somewhere over Indonesia. I never saw the last 10 mins of the Watchmen. Can't say I'm disappointed.
The flight was on time and fairly uneventful. The only real drama along the way was when my in-flight entertainment system spazed-out somewhere over Indonesia. I never saw the last 10 mins of the Watchmen. Can't say I'm disappointed.
Mumbai is CRAZY! It's hot, humid, noisy and very very crowded. It's exactly what I expected it to be, but I've since realised it's impossible to really comprehend 16 million people in one city until you're standing in the middle of it.
It's like God's version of a Pollock painting, and every one of your senses is being stimulated, constantly.
It's awesome.
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