Adventures of a Joe of the western world

So I think one of the things you work out when you have been travelling for three months is that you don't always need a tour to do the touristy things and you don't always have to have a plan to have a great time, among other things. So I take the lead and talk two guys (Endaf and Reid (a Canadian I picked up) and we board a boat to Ha Long Bay in search of a boat and a good time!

So we turn up to Ha Long Bay City to find it rain -first rain on my since leaving England- and quickly work out that there is a reason why people book tours to the bay and not come to the City. In the evening we go out for a beer and after about an hour of looking we come across -probably- the only bar. Even though there is a excess of Hotels and even more being built. When we awake in the morning we head out in search of tours and breakfast to find it is still raining. The problem is that we are finding tours but these are $300+ luxury tours so when we find a tour for more our budget we jump at it. That evening we head off in the different direction and after an even longer walk to turn back up to the bar from the night before and give in and stay there again.

So the next day we head for the harbour and the boat. I think I am going to get the moaning out of the way in one go. The tour was shocking, we were treated like cattle and only confirmed my dislike for packaged tours -Done! So the Islands themselves were so beautiful, I would even say breathtaking isn't over the top. This maze of mountains peaking out of the sea like a flooded mountain range. One of the activities at we did was to kayak, and a majestic time was spent padding around the Islands -beer in hand of course! The rest of the pleasant mix of drinking chatting and a completely out of character trait of sing karaoke!

So the next day -needless to say- I was a bit tender, must have been something I ate and we leave the boat to Cat Ba Island. First on the list is to climb a mountain. Myself being the high intelligent person I am in that time in the morning decided that flip flops are a suitable choice of foot wear and head up the hill. I arriving at the hope I can safely say that I was hating life at this time. and feel on a rock and sat there in a sweaty heap wondering at wont point us climbing the mountain was involved in our agreement to not climb the flaming thing. I can at least say that I was entertainment to all up there and can confirm that there is enough photos of me from strangers for you all to see one. One the way down it I removed my flip flops and walked down the hill in a better mood and reached the bottom muddy footed and ady some would say to face the world again. I left the Island with to things on my minds. One that I think I have seen some of the most beautiful scenery at see I will ever see and two I was right not to like tours!

So one of the joys, the pleasures if you will with flying as cheaply as possible is that once in a while you have a long lay over on flights between destinations. I mean I have heard of nightmare 30 hours stuck in airports and no visa to go to the city luckily mine was not that bad. I had 7 hours in Bangkok airport, the joys of Thailand is that being British you get a free visa, you turn up and they let you in with no questions for 30 days. Which meant that my plans of to enter Bangkok and explore for a couple of hours and return for my flight with another city ticked off the list. The problem started with the fact that I can't sleep on planes, I don't understand how anyone in there right mind can sleep sitting up for when I turned up to Bangkok airport I had been awake for 24 hours and was in no mood to explore anything except the inside of my eyelids. So for 7 hours I sat in the Airport nodding off and jolting awake to terror of being robbed or kick out of the airport and not being allowed back in. I finish the remaining of the time sitting in the departure lounge drinking red wine and talking to a bored looking barman!

So after many hours of travelling, many years of planning and thinking about and the addition of a watched top gear episode I have arrived in Vietnam and from the very start it does not disappoint. From the moment I step out of the Terminal and walk towards the bus I am almost hit by a motorbike. When I arrive in the city centre it becomes even worse and when I go to cross the road I work out the the Green Cross Code goes completely out of the window in a country like this. The best bit advise I got was the best way to cross a road is to shut your eyes and walk at the same speed, not that I was willing to shut my just took a massive step and kept walking while the bikes flew around you like standing in a stampede! And before I knew it I was on the other kerb -sidewalk for the American's out there- unsure how I got through alive!

After a walk around the city I find a hostel, the Hanoi Central Backpackers to be exact, the one that happens to have an hour of free beer -a luck coincidence- and decide that it is probably time to get a little sleepy. But of course like all the best plans of mice and men it is ruined by the introduction of a Welshman called Endaf pronounced En-dav and an invite to beer. To no one surprise I fell a sleep after 42 hours of being awake fully clothes -including my shoes!

The next couple of days are spent exploring this new capital which I believe is either designed on a maze or is actually forever changing as I have never got so lost in my life. An endless supply of twisting alleyways and tight streets. All with a hundred motorbikes and shoppers. The colours and sounds are music that plays along with the movie which is everyday life. On every street corner people sit and drink iced coffee and smoke cigarettes or enjoy a beer. This city has a very Asian feeling to it and in it's own way creates peace from madness. The beer that I am talking about is a fresh beer called Bia Hoi and weighs in at around 3%, it is a daily brewed beer at cost from 10p-30p a glass. It is a light and refreshing beer, it is also a good why of chatting to the locals and watching the world go by.

I can safely say that I was very taken by the city of Hanoi and would recommend anyone to go there and experience it for themselves!

"Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to Colombo airport,
thank you for flying Jet Airways. we hope that you had a pleasent flight.
The local time is 10pm and it is a cool 30 °C outside..." -What?

So country number three has begun and I believe that it is going to be a hot one. So I walk out of the airport to work out that I am a hours drive anyway from the city that the Airport is meant to be in. Lets just say the beginning of my trip wasn't as smooth as it should of been for someone that has been away for the past three months. So after the struggles of the night before with getting to the city and finding a room (thanks to the Barmy Army) and the lack of time I have in this country I decide that I will miss out this capital and go straight for the country. On the flight I started chatting to a guy called Ashraff a Sri Lankan nation who advised me to see Kandy. So first thing I boarded a bus and arrive fresh face and excited about a new adventure.

Kandy is a beautiful hill town in the centre of the country in The Hilly Country area. It has a beautiful lake in the centre and a temple containing a tooth of Buddha and nothing much else so I quickly run out of activities to entertain me. I remembered at this point that Ashraff had left me a number to call if I wanted to meet up, so bravely I called him and within 20 minutes he is taking me to a restaurant and before I know it I am at his house meeting his family and accepting a bed for the night and a free lift to the bus station in the morning.

The next morning I head for Adam's Peak believe to be the place where Adam stepped on the earth after being removed from The Garden of Eden -as there is a footprint in the rock on the peak- and also believe to be the place where butterflies go to death... aww! The reason I have come here is not cultural but to follow the Pilgrimage to the top at night to see the sun rise. At night for most of the year the path is illuminated and masses of people climb it every day. The climb is about 2½-4 hours and the other travellers in the hotel I was staying all agreed to meet and leave at 2am. So When I woke at 2.35am -as you can imagine- a lot of swearing fell out of my mouth and I leap out of bed. Not waiting to miss the sunrise which was meant to be about 6.15 I get out and off by 2.45. After about 45mins of walking I catch up with some of the other people I was meant to meet and I woke out that I have been pacing to much and decide to slow down the pace but still am pulling away from the others and before long I am off on my own. I eventual reach the top to see that I have arrived at 4.45 and am the first out of 6 of us to reach the top. I collapse and working out the I have climbed to hill in 2 hours. I wait for the others who all achieve it in 3 and work out that this new thin body is going to get some used to. I walk down with the others and eat breakfast.

The next day I wake up in Hikadawa on the beach and go to get up and my body does not work, Adam's peak as taken it's toll and I decide that for the next couple of days a beach holiday and a rest will do me good. The holiday was not a bad thing as the temperature soars to +40 °C and all my attempts to culture search and explore end up the same way with me laying on the bed under the fan after 2 showers and reading until it is cool enough to return to the outside world.

I decide that it is time to get moving, the cricket is over and the it is safe to move around again being an Englishman not being over changed because of my nationality. I head for Galle -a ex-dutch colony seaside town- and spend the day exploring and walking and refusing to go back to the room... which ends up with me laying on the bed and reading after 2 more showers.

I have to admit that I have rushed this blog entry and it is not because I am behind on my writing -which I am- and not because I was only in the country for 7 days but because after the magic and joys of the last to countries I was very unimpressed with Sri Lanka. Don't get me wrong there is nothing wrong with the country or the people. The people I met and befriend are some of the warmest people I met and I don't have a bad word to say about them. The country is a beautiful picturesque country with amazing beaches and rolling hills full of tea plantation. But the country has sold some of it sole in the name of tourism I believe. I never headed up north and that maybe different and I hope no one changes their mind on what I say but compared to India and Nepal it did not jump out at me and I happily left in knowledge that I have Vietnam ahead of me.

So alas my time in India has come to an end and I am faced with the sad truth that many people are confronted with after spending time in this nation and that is that I have run out of time. So my final stop on my passage through India is Chennai (formally Madras) and I alight from the train, the same train that I had been sitting on for 23 hours I am glad that like the rest of the India I am bombarded by the same salesman, toc-toc drivers and beggars. One of the main things to say about this city is from the moment you walk off the train you are hit my a wall of hit that follows you everywhere, unescapeable! Because of time I only have one night in this city and which I thought was a shame because how can you do a city in one day? So ignoring the heat I venture out to the streets to explore the city that will be my final memory of India.

I think there are only two things I can really say about my thoughts of my walking tour of Chennai, firstly the saying 'only mad dogs and Englishman go out in the midday sun' really has meaning in a city like this as when I had walked for about an hour I was so sweaty that it looked like I have jumped in to the see fully dressed! The second is that I am sad that I finished my Indian experience in this city as it is a void of anything that in my heart I hold to be India. It seems to have no old culture and is a busy dusty city.

I think that finishing here does have my good quality in that it gave me time to reflect on the last two months. I say now that India was not just a adventure on the world tour but the changing of me. I am leaving this country, this different world a changed man. I look back on what I was when I crossed the border on the foggy morning from Nepal and what I am now, I have found the confidence that I have always had inside and I know it could of happened anywhere but it didn't it happen in India and for that it will always be held in my heart as one of the best times of my life. Also I see the people that I met and how good a time I had.

One of the main problems I am going to be faced with back in the western world though is I am in danger of becoming one of those travelers that talks none stop about my time in India, so to the people of the world if I turn into that guy please stop me!

So the next stop is Sri Lanka. Country number two done!!!

So I arrive in Goa with three new friend, Ina the German, Matt the harry potter look alike and Phil (Phillipa) his Liverpool girlfriend! I arrive in Arambol at midday a check into a beach hut. Arambol is a beautiful beach resort with a long beach, palm trees and more Russians than I have ever seen. Russian men, old Russian men walking around in thongs is not the sight you want to be greeted by but it happens. I meet Efe and he saves my life and proves to be the best friend that I have met on this trip. He lends me money so I can eat and survive until my replacement card shows up.

The day after arriving is Goa was the Hindu festival of Holli, the festival that celebrates the start of Spring. It is celebrated by the throwing of paint. Even though Goa is a Christian State it is still celebrate and everyone is a target. It is a big street party and people dance and hug on the street. I ended up looking like some piece of Modernist art but loved it. It is one of the funniest festivals I have been to in India (and I have been to a lot (365 festivals a year).

I don't really have much to say about Arambol, it is full of hippies and Russians. It has more bars than people (off season) and is a place that you can do nothing. For two weeks I read, swam, cooked (was in a house) and waited for my card to arrive. That is sadly it. One day we went to another beach and did the same but that is it. I could be found at Samantha's beach restaurant because they didn't charge us for sun loungers and had free backgammon. It is sad that so much of my time was wasted at this place but hey it is all part of the travelling experience.

But my card arrived and it was time to leave, but sadly I had mo time to explore more as I had a flight from Chennai to Sri Lanka and had a 22 hour train journey to do.

So the metropolitan city of Mumbai! On the train in it already took me by surprise. Looking out the window it was so strange to see these great slums spanning out like seas in front of you, with the new rich looking building like cliffs. I have read about it, talked to people about it but nothing really prepares you for the sight of it. But the thing that was the clearest through all this was that people were happy, you can see children laughing and playing cricket, women still in colourful Saris chatting to their friends and you see a sense of community at you don't see anywhere else in our world. It is something that I have seen before in Africa that people not only survive but can be happy anywhere.

So after a particular expensive journey to Colaba by taxi I arrive at the Salvation Army Hostel. Now the reason I have chosen this place is because it is by far the cheapest place in Mumbai to stay. The problem is that I am not a follower of the Salvation Army and was not sure weather you had to be. Worried that I may get caught out as a imposture I keep my head down low and talk to no one, while I run out the door to see Mumbai. Luckily later talking to other there is no entry requirements and I will not have to be attending any bible study sessions before having to be in bed by 9pm. Still no drink allowed inside though :-(

So most of my knowledge of Mumbai comes from the book Shantaram, a must read I tell you. So my first couple of days are spent wondering around seeing the places that are in the book and wondering if any of the people from it are still around. I would like to say one thing about Mumbai though, it is not the sort of city you want to walk around to much in at it is so HOT. I mean one day it was 40 °C the day before this it was 36 °C and I walked 10 miles. It is a big sprawling city with so much to see and so much to do. But it is also a city where you can be busy doing notihing. One afternoon I spent a couple of hours watching cricket at the Maidens (parks built by the British and have at least a dozen games going on at once).

I meet some fantastic people and some times had to fain interest in football talk. All part of an adventure, but the beer was cheap and the chat was good. I went to the famous Leopold's for a beer and stood under the Gate of India. I have to Admit that I fell in love with Mumbai. I still can't put my finger on way. Because everything I seem to love about it was the stuff that I dislikes about Delhi. Maybe I wasn't ready for Delhi, maybe I was in a travelling mind when I got to Mumbai. I don't know but it was a fantastic city that was hard to leave.

One of my favourite place in Mumbai was the street stole that I ate most days. This little stole where only locals eat became my haunt. It was amazing and I did not understand why tourist walked past it. The food was some of the best I have tried and proved my theory that street Chai is the best and for only 5 rupees the only way to do. I took everyone there and will tell anyone to go.

One thing I would like to say is that even though it is called Mumbai on every map, chart and transport list in the world, no on there calls it Mumbai. It is almost like the world forgot to tell them. They correct you when you call it Mumbai and spit when you ask why, saying a politicians. So what do I call it. Mumbay I tried but didn't feel right so I called it Bombay and hoped not to offend.

But it is not all laugh my time in Bombay and on route to my Bollywood debut as a professional actor I got pick pocketed and lost my card and most of my money (which does not normally live in there). I am not angry I think I know the bloke who did it and he need the money more than I did. But it has meant I am not going to be able to see south India as much as I would have liked. But hey it travelling. So Goa I head with not much money but a friend to meet. Efe the savior of the trip.

One other thing, it seems like everyone in Bombay is a writer. In my time I met no less than four writers, it seems like the writers version of LA. It was highly amusing. And it got me thinking should I start calling myself a writer?... No I'm still an actor and can't wait for LA :-p

So after leaving wonderful friendly Bundi we headed south west to Udaipur. On the way to Udaipur we stopped of a Chittorgarh, Chittorgarh is a tiny town in the middle of these two town with -and I quote 'the best fort in Rajasthan'! This huge fort spans over the entire hill and is about 2km long. Inside it is full of palaces, temples and swimming pools and the most job satisfied guard we have ever met. Who greeted us with open arms and a theatrical "welcome to chittorgarh fort and the Shiv temple"! I would love to explain more about this town but half of the group where suffering from the belly and the rest of us still a bit shocked by the 5am start after a night on the rum! As I said before it wasn't a dry town. We left soon afterwards for Udaipur and bed.

So arriving at Udaipur at night, I once again left the Latinos take over the hotel hunting I stood back and chatted to the locals. As I was chatting to the locals it comes clear to me that this town with all it's splendor and glory (of what I had seen so far) prides itself over one things. It is not the beautiful City Palace (see facebook for pics) or the stunning man made lake that was created by the Raj as you wanted a lake and not a river, or even the world famous hotel in the middle of said lake. No this is India and their proudest moment is that the Roger Moore classic James Bond: Octopussy was filmed here. The funny thing is that in every hotel at 7.30pm they show Octopussy, it is the funniest thing! The best bit about it is that they never say the towns name and the only reference to any town is 'M' says get to Delhi!

But the city, it is one of those cities that still has a town feel to it, everyone is friendly and you feel welcome there. It is a beautiful town and made better by the face that you can get a proper cup of English tea, it was the happiest day. When we were exploring the city palace one of the silliest thing to date happened. The palace has a camera charge and my clever friend Albert -like all of us- decided to not pay. But unlike all of use he decided to take a picture... next to the guard! What happened next was a strange event, worthy of Monty Python themselve with a Spanish man, in a orange dress (Indian male wear but still a dress) on the floor bowing a touching the feet of the guard and then standing up a shouting and then back to the floor while the guard was trying to throw him out and charge him 400 rupees. It was a sight to behold, I left him to it and walked away.

Also one thing that I would like to add is that it is possible to get four passengers and luggage into a two man auto-rickshaw! As I have been saying anything is possible in India. But sadly it was time for this group of single travellers to part ways and I headed south to Mt Abu and the others north. Efe I was to meet in Goa and the others maybe next year in Argentina.

Now Mt Abu, Mt Abu is the worst place I have been to in India. It is the collection of everything that I hate about India, there is no good thing about it. It is the nearest thing to Blackpool they have (not that I am saying there is anything wrong with Blackpool), but it is a town created for tourism all the shops see junk and guns. Everyone is out to get as much of your money as they can, I bought a train ticket and the commission was more than the ticket itself. The only good thing about it is that you can leave. There is no culture or history and I only went there because an Indian says it was great and had good trekking. Well I am not going to waste my time writing about it. JUST DON'T GO.

But this made me sad that I finished Rajasthan on such a low note as I loved Rajasthan. It was everything I expected it to be and more. A land caught in time where forts and palaces and mansions still stand. We you can image princes and princess, warriors and farms living. It is beautiful, friendly, magical and so much more. But ever good thing has to end and a new one begin. So off to Mumbai (Bombay)!

So after staying five days in Pushkar and making lots of friends a group of us left for Bundi (Albert, Maggie, Efe and myself), the one problem with my new travelling group was there was me a English speaking Englishman and then one Spanish and two Argentinean, if your counting that is three Spanish speakers and me. I seemed to be at a disadvantage already.

Bundi is or was another Pushkar, it used to be a dry town and still has the holy lake in the middle it. But luckily the drinking ban has been lifted and it is not full of tourist in silly parachute pants! It was here that we stayed in a hotel run by one of the nicest families I have ever met, who invited us in like their own family and couldn't do enough for us. And made one of the best Thali's I have tried to date.

This was the town where we got are invite not only to a families house for lunch, which we attended and I would like to say that I have never been so polite and reserved and English in my life. The reason for the invite was because there had been a wedding two days before and we where invited for the last of the family celebration. So when we arrived we all got bundled into the room of the newly weds, which had happened the day before but I was not present. As we sat there, we talked and chatted and laughed and once again got treated like me were family. We had a lovely afternoon sitting on the roof eating and chatting and getting into the arm wrestle competitions with the oldest brother (an soldier in the Indian arm) and it was a great afternoon.

But that evening a even better event happened we were sitting in a Shiv (a God) at the celebration of his Birthday (like Indian Christmas) and we got an invite from a man to a Indian wedding, thinking we was not serious we forgot it and I went back to shaking me tambourine but when we started walking back we came across it and walked in. Indian can do weddings I found out that evening. We ate more food than I have ever eaten in my life and then straight after that we got pulled onto the dance floor. There was so much colour and the smell of the kitchen is wonderful. I felt a bit band as we got all of this hospitality and ended up being the stars of the wedding and didn't pay anything and only got to chat to the groom for a second, but no one would except money. SO I excepted it and danced like a uncle at a western wedding a laughed a lot. I only wish I had a camera.

But Bundi was not all fun and games, no it was also the place that I got attacked by the monkey. #mum stop reading# I was up a hill taking photos of the sunset when I turned around a was face to face with a monkey. Slowly I turned to leave thinking is I look weak it will leave me alone, but the next thing I know it was charging me and I am running faster than I have ever ran. Scared I start climbing down the hill to the town wish I wasn't alone. The next day when we were up at the fort and being confronted by a army of them I have to admit I was a little scared, but never corner a wild animal and you'll be fine. Also I'm fine.

So Pushkar, Pushkar will have a lasting memory on me for years to come as I can hand on heart say that it was a turning point in my life. The writer David Gregory Phillips, in his book Shantaram says a line that stuck with me from the moment I read it. In his book is says "the only way to win in India, is to surrender to it... Surrender to it". When I first read this I thought nothing of it! Let me put that on the back burner but remember it!

On the way to Pushkar on one of the local bus I have taken to riding I had a conversation with a man on the bus, the topic of the conversation was not important and I can't remember what we talked about, but the remarkable and note worthy point was he spoke not a world of English. Are conversation was done completely through arm movements and talking in our own language. It was one of the best chats I have had because he was such a genuinely nice bloke who just wanted know about me and me him.

After I had found a hotel, I headed out for lunch. I went for Thali, Thali is one of the great Indian dish for less than a pound you get rice, curry, dal (lentil spice soup), chapati and normally more and it is always free refills. It was here that I met Albert a Spaniard that has come to be one of my close friends from this trip. Albert is one of these fantastically intelligent people that you meet, Albert had been travelling in India for five months when I met him and he has been really taken by the idea of India and the Hindu religion. We spent the whole day talking about the religion and he really opened my eyes to the concept of opening your heart to the universe. I am not trying to say that I am converting to the Hindu religion but to have a greater knowledge of the world that I am exploring.

Myself and Albert spent the next couple of days meeting others and just exploring Pushkar. But alas at the end of the second day it was time for me to go and catch a bus and head to my next destination. Let me remind you, in Delhi I was talked into by all my Rajasthan train ticket before leaving and because of this I have been stuck in towns or leaving before I was ready. So I said my byes to Albert, Maggie, Diego and Billy and walked to my bus. It was on the walk that I started swearing about these tickets and thinking I was not ready to leave. It was when I was stepping onto the bus that that quote came to me again "surrender to India" and I stopped, asking myself why am I doing this why am I following this insane plan. So I didn't I tore up the ticket, turned around and went back to the town. I had a rush of excitement, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

So the reason why Pushkar will stick with me because it was not only the place I refound my spontaneity, but I learnt to say no and was the start of building my self-confidence and mainly started following my heart and stopped listening to my head.

The only problem I have with this is that it had to happen in Pushkar. As you know I am British and the more foreigners I meet on my travels the more I am told how British I actually am. One of the joys of been British is that you can be a cynic and I came to Pushkar with a cynical mind. India is one of these places where people come to find themselves and I to have found a inner self which I did not have before. My problem is that so many people come to find enlightenment at the bottom of a spliff. So imagine the irony that the place that I found myself was the one place where I really didn't want it to happen.

So as some of you are probably unaware -mainly die to the fact I have told no one- I am not the first Whittaker to grace this magic land of India. Alas like some many great hunger siblings of history I got beaten to it by my sister. This I would like to point out is not a bitter point for me and does not bother me one bit as when my sister returned she studied Maths at Uni and became an account (1-0 to the young brother)! The reason I am telling you this is because as the second Whittaker I have should have the gift of knowledge when it comes to my sisters less pleasant experiences. But sadly there is one I forgot and while in the Desert in Jaisalmer I came a cropper. The one this I forgot was not, wear a hat -as I has a very nice straw cow 'camel' boy hat-, nor was it the lack of sunscreen. The one thing I had forgot was the cushion and my god did I regret it. I have never had such a uncomfortable ride in my life. Not only that the camel safari I had ventured on was no less than the Indian equivalent of the donkey ride at Blackpool. Sit on a camel for an hour being drag along and then sit on a dune for a hour (no body talking) watch a sunset and get dragged back. But sleeping under the stars was nice.

Anyway less about my complaining. So Jaisalmer, the fort Oasis. Short history for you was once the major point for the desert trade route from India to Afghanistan, traders carrying spices, textiles, perfumes and other stuff. This was until the Portuguese (yes the Portuguese not the British) came and created Bombay as a major port and camel trade stopped. The fort is still there and is the only living and working fort in Rajasthan (maybe India I'll have to check). It may not be for to long though as due to the cleanliness of the India people the drains are now full of plastic and the waste water is breaking the dry sandstone and threatening to claps the entire fort (actually already has). But now fear, before you get all worried about this beautiful -and it is, did I forget to mention- fort, like all great plans there is a twist to save the plot. The heroic Indian Government has sent a whopping $10million to save the fort... which has gone missing (probably in the pockets of the politicians)! Ladies and Gentlemen I give you the corruption of Indian politics.

So anyway I loved Jaisalmer, it was a lovely lovely place. Even though when I walked off the lovely air conditioned train, into the desert there was a couple of things I forgot. Number 1, deserts are hot and that is why they are deserts (and before anyone comments deserts can be cold as we I know the arctic and antarctic are deserts too) and number 2, jeans and a jump are not appropriate clothing for 35 °C heat. I have never been so hot in my life, melting I think the word you would use is.

Jodhpur

I sadly din't have much to say about Jodhpur, The Blue City, which to my delight was actually blue. A very busy trade town with little streets and even smaller shops. But alas I was there for only one day and did not venture far out. One strange thing that did happen was I got taken for breakfast by two large Canadian couples, I stange affair with the end result of being offered out for cocktails later, worried I ran for the hills saying I will think about it before disappearing into the crowd like a British Spy.

Leaving at 5am the next day as well.

They call Jaipur the Pink City of Rajasthan, painted in 1728 to welcome the Prince of Wales on a state visit of India and ever since the city walls and buildings –inside the old city- have been painted and rebuilt with the exterior walls paint pink, even to this day. I would like to make a couple of points about this from my point of view, why pink? What has pink got to do with Britain and especially Wales but this point I can let slid as it was a lovely gesture. My second point is my main and final point on the matter and I can’t let this one slid, after three days of walking around and around I saw no witness of any pink on the city walls and builds within the walls… there terracotta! I look everywhere and terracotta is everywhere. Now don’t get me wrong terracotta is a perfectly good colour but I want my pink city. I am going to have to go to San Francisco after all now.

Jaipur is a strange place, at first I really liked it. It had a good feeling about it. A small town that has grown to a city that has kept the feeling of a small town. My mind change a little when I worked out that it was all shopping. But I think that it has always been a trade town, trading in silver and silks. It was a fascinating mix of main street shopping and back street market feeling. Every five minutes I would get an invite in for a Chai and a chat while the trade man shows off his wares, to the point where I couldn’t drink anymore tea. One of the strangest things about the town though was that there was no tourist and I still to this date have no idea where they have gone. If I have to be honest I found that this was very hard and I don’t know why. I think I was just lonely and almost packed in the trip because of it. But I bounced back, I don’t think I thought about how hard travelling around the world on your own is and I think I needed to have this experience to really help with the rest of the trip.

Anyway less of that now!

One of the things that I did do when I was here and am happy that I did it, on the first night I was wondering around the streets of Jaipur, exploring the city. But from what I can tell the city closes down by the about 8pm and I was left with the opinion of eating in a restaurant and eat on my own or getting some takeaway and eating back at the room. When I made my decision to get something and eat in the hotel, I turn the corner and am faced with the bright signed KFC and dear readers I did it. In the country of good food I turned to the Americans to feed me. Then when I got back to the room I turned to our friends across the water to entertain me with WWE Royal Rumble and it was good.

One highlight of mine of my time when I was in Jaipur was when I took a trip out of the city to Amber the original mountain town before it moved to the plains below. This is The Golden City and is a grand structure that sprawls across the hills of Amber. When I got off the bus at the bottom of the hill, I started to walk through the Garden of Public Audience and when I was standing under a tree looking up at this fort ahead of me –thinking how high that hill looks- a thump behind me and a monkey had through itself out of the tree and was running across the lawn. Shocked I looked around and the thing I know it is raining monkeys all around me. I was just waiting for one to just land on my head, but lucky I was fine and shot off to the safety of other people. But you do have to laugh really.

So I walk out of my hotel on the streets of Agra. The plan for today is to see Agra Fort and get to the Taj Mahal for sunset, which sound like a good plan except for the fact that it is 10am and sunset isn’t for another six and half hours and there is nothing to do in Agra except for the for and the Taj. I start walking it is a beautiful day and I am in high spirits, so I am in the mood for proving everyone and find another secret gem in a town disregarded by many as a “dusty hole”. After walking for about an hour I slowly come around to the opinion that maybe other people are right. As I reach the outer walls of the Taj a cycle-rickshaw pulls up and tries to get a fare. He tries the age old Indian trick of asking “which country?” in the hope that knowing the persons country can be the key to open a business deal. After much talking and laughing, I decide that I will get a ride and we set off up the hill to the fort.

After a couple of metres going up the hill the driver gets off and starts pushing, “too steep” we claims. I laugh at him saying that I could cycle up this hill with a family up this hill with a family on the back. Joking he tells me that I should give it ago and to his astonishment I agree and jump on the seat and after proving I could cycle up the hill I get him on the back and head off towards the fort. Cycling through the busy streets the reactions of the people is electric and shouts and jokes about a tourist cycling a Indian on a rickshaw, it is all going well until I go to brake at a tight corner –expecting the brakes to work- and crash into the side of a toc-toc. Panicked the driver jumps on the front and shot of at a angry driver, there was no damage and I sit back laughing.

I get to the fort, a lovely fort with marble buildings and lots of monkeys. This is the second fort of many I will do in India and I have one problem with forts in India. Will in England is I go to a fort I like –in my head- to pretend that I am a soldier attacking the fort and imagine the world of fort life, but in India the forts aren’t like that. They are rich with architecture and I feel a like cheated when I walk around these forts. The idea that the Maharaja would have bathed there rather than soldiers fighting made me feel a like sad.

To waste time I fulfilled the ritual of a the rickshaw taken me to shops where I don’t want to buy anything so the shops would pay him commission and I walk around pretending to want to buy something until I see on the clock I have fulfilled the 10-15 minute time I had to be there and run out the shop like I have been chased by a dog, jumping on the rickshaw and head to another shop. It’s a fun game and waste time beautifully.

Now it is time to go to the Taj Mahal, the building I have thinking about since I have been planning this trip. Michael Palin declared that “you have not visited India until you have seen the Taj Mahal.” As I turn the corner at the rear court yard and I look up and am faced by a piece of beauty that makes my mouth open and takes my breath away. As it sit there in front of me in all it’s glory I can’t help but smile and stare. It is a fantastic sight and as you walk around it, you understand why it is so famous. The strange thing is that you take your shoes off before ascending the stairs –and no Slumdog fans, no shoes got stolen- and you can not take photos inside all to respect the dead that are buried there, Shah Jahan and his wife –who the Taj was built in memory of- Mumtaz Mahal. As I sit there waiting for sunset I think about the gesture that this building is and again with the quote from Rabindranath Tagore “a teardrop on the cheek of eternity”!

Will leaving Agra I am still confused about something. What that is, is how can a town that has a piece of outright beauty like this one have, still be a complete hole. I was wrong there is no secret gem hidden in a back street of Agra. But when you have the Taj you don’t need it. Happy I board the train waiting for my next adventure in Jaipur – the pink city.

So my next stop is Amritsar, a Sikh town near the boarder with Pakistan. As I leave the train station with my lonely planet in hand (the bible of any backpacker) I see that my chosen hotel is a short walk from my location and I wade my way through the sea taxi and toc-toc drivers that once again has swarmed me again I head down the road and cross the bridge. Now having to cross the street I look up to see a moving mass of traffic where what seems to be 10 lanes are trying to condense to 1 lane. This is what I love about Indian traffic, if everyone drove like we do in Europe everyone will get everywhere quick and not have these mad 24 hour traffic jams. The problem is that some how I have to cross this traffic and I have no idea how you do it. I try walking down the road a bit and it worse down there as the traffic is flying at 100mph towards the bridge. Confused I stand back and wait to see what the locals do. After a while I work out that there are no locals crossing and admit defeat and I walk the long way round and get to the hotel. The work that took me 4 minutes when leaving Amritsar at 4am took me 30 minutes, I love India.

So why am I in Amritsar I hear you ask. Well for two reasons really, Amritsar as a lot of the more northern towns in India –I believe- is a Sikh town but not just any Sikh town. It is here that the famous Golden Temple is located and to Sikh’s this is the Mecca of there religion and pilgrims come from all around the world to pray and bath in this beautiful gold gilded temple in the middle of the holy lake. I don’t think I can start to explain how stunning this building is and how impressed and taken back by it I was… so I won’t but I’ll tell you about how cold the water you have to wash your feet in is. It was the biggest shock I have ever had.

I do a tour of temples and all of a sudden I encounter the Mata Temple, this is the weirdest temple that I have ever visited and probably ever will. Let me paint a picture for you if I can. So take a normal Hindu temple –bells, flowers, incense, statue of Shiva- and place that on the ground floor and the make a Cave Temple where you crawl through holes, climb over cows and walk through ankle deep water well passing as many gods and goddess; that they could fight in. That is not it, when they were designing it they clearly asked in the creator of Disneyland to design it. So you walk around all this being face by the most cartoon like gods. This tickled me so much I sometimes had to run forward or hold back so my laugh wouldn’t offend the pilgrims –a lot of which were women hoping to become pregnant- that were walking around me. I decide it is best that I should leave.

The other thing Amritsar is famous for is it’s border closing ceremony. As I said it is near the border with Pakistan and every night they have a full patriotic show to shut the gates. It is the strangest thing and has got so popular that on both sides they have built grandstands to accommodate the people. The soldiers do an impressive show of leave kicks and running marching as kids run up and down with India flags. The one thing that I wonder is how serious the soldiers as they stand there shaking with energy, waiting for their time to march towards the border and face off against a Pakistan soldier. I like the ceremony as it is good fun even though the two countries are at war. The reminder of the war is around when you see a sniper over looking the border and the army barracks a 100 metres back from the border.

So as I head for the capital on my mind is the two missions on the agenda that are to be done while in Delhi. I have been thinking about this plan of action for a while. The first is to see and explore as much of the city as I can and get a feeling for it in the short time that I am here. The second and more important is the on to, once and for all work out what the difference between Old and New Delhi as to me it just seems like Delhi.

So I arrive in New Delhi train station at 6.30 on a cool misty Thursday morning, still dark outside and the city is still asleep. As I walk through the streets looking for my hotel I watch as the place slowly wakes and comes alive. Chai sellers are setting up there station on the side of the road and women in bright coloured saris sweep the outside of the shops and rickshaw drivers slowly make there way to the train station and other hot spots for the days work, while wiping the sleep away from their eyes. As I head down the back streets –still searching for my hotel, a little lost- I see people worshipping at temples and the sound of bells ring through the alleyways as the sky begins to brighten and they welcome in the new day and I feel strangely safe in these eerie claustrophobic streets. After a while a couple of over eager hotel touts that had been following me for a while started to push me towards there hotel and making me uneasy –and in a completely out of character move- I turn and square to him and as his friend scarpers and leaves his friend to face against a foreigner that is twice his size, I stare down at him and set him off packing. A little rattled and adrenaline pumping from the event I reappear at the main street and ahead of me is a sign for the hotel.

To no surprise when turning the room is not available so the manager takes me to a free room in the hotel next door which seems to cater solo for dwarves and midgets. I only say this because when I fall on to the bed to catch on the needed and missed sleep I work out that on the bed where my shins are meant to be is wall in the way. After a few minutes of creative thinking I work out that sleep is not an option and I head to the street to eat and to find this midget community that requires their own hotel.

On my most tourist day in Delhi I decide that I would like to go and visit the Jama Mosjid mosque that towers over Old Delhi in all it’s grandeur. The problem was that the day I visited the mosque was the day that I had cracked out the pale British legs forgetting about the rules of mosque. So I appear in this mosque with sunglasses on, camera in hand and wrapped around my waist a bright yellow sari. I tell you that it is impossible to wear a sari and act normal and as I stand out like, well like a white man wearing a sari wondering how I get myself into these situation. I then notice all the cameras turn on me, not willing to posse for a hundred photos I turn and run for the safety of the Red Fort leaving the sari behind.

Sadly Delhi doesn’t have the tranquility of Varanasi or the open friendliness of Kathmandu, everyone that I have talk to about Delhi says that it is a massive culture shock and even if it wasn’t so much a culture shock that hit me in my three days in the capital I was shocked by the city. The amount of people that bombard you every time you walk on to the street is crazy. There are people everywhere trying to sell you something, scam money of you, beggars that follow you down the street not taking no for an answer. The whole city is money driven and everyone is in on it. I can now see why I have heard so many stories of people arriving to Delhi and leaving India a day later, unable to cope.

The thing about Delhi is that it is a hard city to be a white tourist in, when you are in the tourist areas it is a constant fight every time you walk onto the street. Every beggar, shop sells man, travel agent, tout and scam artist try their hardest to get a piece of your money. So many people don’t like Delhi as you are treated like a walking wallet and I too felt like this, it is such a money orientated city it is hard to stay afloat and many people leave Delhi and even India because of it. Even though it has a different side to it and it only takes a little bit of exploring to find it. On one of my many walks in the city I got out of the main bazaar and the tourist area and found myself walking in the areas where tourist don’t wonder. You see the people that would normally beg laughing a joking, kids playing cricket, the handicapped smoking and playing cards. I walk past a shop where the TV was showing the test match and instead of selling me something, he offers a chair. The problem is that most people leave Delhi not feeling this warmth of people and I find this sad.

So Nepal is done and dusted and I have a new adventure a head of me. From here the subcontinent stretches south before me. A world of unknown adventure, exploring and fun lay ahead for the next two months. I have thought about India the most since I have been planning and talking about this place, it sounds like a wild land full of religion and people. A country with 1.3 billion people in it and some of the best experiences of people lives have happened here. I sat on the train thinking that my dream has come true I have come travelling and I am here on my own the other side of the world and I am excited and ready for what India has to throw at me and I hope that I can cope. I am sure I can I have been thinking about this country for as long as I can remember. And if my dream does not happen like I have it, India is the birth place of dreams;

"If there is one place on the face of earth
where all the dreams of living men have
found a home from the very earliest days
when man began the dream of existence,
it is India." Romain Rolland

This is the India I have to look forward to and I will be ready for it, just after I have had a shower.

So here I am standing on a train station platform at Varanasi, the holy town in India, the start of the river Ganges. The first thing that hits me as I am standing there taking a couple of seconds for the blood to get into my legs so that I can start walking, is the smell. I am confronted with a smell of urine, poo and burning plastic. Taken aback by the harshness of the odour I start walking towards the staircase having no idea about where to go, where to sleep and how to get there. Walk I was thinking, the new fitting, post mountain me was ready to walk. But then I am confronted by a man, a smiling man you offers his toc-toc (or auto rickshaw)

Getting in I rely on the travellers bible the Lonely Planet to find a hotel, but the as I find quickly my rickshaw driver has a different plane of action and I so after being kidnapped and taken to lots of guesthouses that ain't the Shanti Guesthouse, I submerge at the Elvis Guest House the other end of Varanasi to where I want to be but being told 'best area', this I still am unsure about. Tired and not that bothered about where I sleep, I agree and go to my 200 rupee a night hotel room and to my surprise and joy I find my complimentary live in geeko on wall.

Some how in my excitement and over tiredness I agreed to do a one man toc-toc (see above) of all of the Temples in Varanasi (which has you image are plentiful). So before I really know what is going on I am racing at about 100mph through the streets of the city I have just arrived in. I go to Hindu temples, Buddist Temples, Temples to India and Silk factories. Basically I have achieve to see the entire place in little over 4 hours and got the feeling of nothing. Still to this day I only have a foggy recollection of that first 5 hours. Confused I crash on my bed and get some sleep.

So how do I paint a picture with words to help you understand this city. I think the best way to say it is to describe the way that it hit me as an intense violation of all of my five human senses. I have already described the smell, the over powering smell that insults the nostrils and makes you miss England and the wonderful sewage system that we all take for granted. Then after the smell the sound hits you, an orchestra of car horn, shouting salesman, screaming children and dogs barking, the sound turns almost like a hypnotic chant. The sound track of India. Then there is the colour, women by the river in bright sarees wash and drying even brighter clothes. It's a wash of yellows, pink, blues, reds and more. This place invigorates the senses and leaves you with the memory of the last days of a music festival without the terrible hangover.

The other way to look at the city is about how poor it is and how much death there is around, people fly from all over the world to come and die here and hope for the easiest route to the afterlife. Even though I am saying all of these negatives things Varanasi as has a way of winning my heart and all the bad and overwhelming things that happen there make you (or just me) love it even more. Every time since I have told people that Varanasi was my first city there response was 'really that's brave!' I don't believe this to be true because I got to see the true grit of India from the start and the rest will come easier because.

The rest of the time is spent relaxing and talking and meeting foreigners and I had a great four days there. I think that I spent most of my time walking on the river and drinking chai from the coolest man in the world;

When I turned up though I found out that there was a festival going on and excited I rushed to see it, to find out that this festival last for about two months and is repeated ever night but still it was nice to watch the prayers and moves (none of which I understood) on the banks of the River Ganges. I don't think I got much of what I saw in Varanasi and I was overwhelmed by the amount of death that I saw there. But as I said I loved it and would go back in a heartbeat.

Also any restaurant owners out there sell Banana Lassi's you'll make a killing. Anyway sorry for the delay but thank you for reading and I've be Joe Whittaker good night.