Next Door to the Prince...

...Hotel is an Internet station. So I'm gonna post again today too. I really can't bare to let this India blog go.



Most critical point of the day? As confirmed by a palm reader: I am lucky. Yep. I agree.

1) on the bus from Mcleod Ganj it was my aisle counterpart, not me, who got motion sick. Luckily he spoke enough English to get me to switch seats with him urgently so the vomit went out the window instead of in the aisle. *shudder*

2) BEFORE getting on the bus in Mcleod Ganj I was happily cafe hopping and decided to try a new street... and ran into a friend from my hometown. Seriously! I knew she was in India but not in THAT restaurant, on THAT street, for only 2 hours and on my LAST DAY in Mcleod Ganj! Amazing. Thanks for seeing me Nicole! :D

3) Got off the bus in Delhi and was not, as was previously guaranteed when the ticket was purchased, in Old Delhi at the affiliated tourist office. She was in Somewhere, Delhi. Yeah. Not the good luck part. BUT the bus driver associate-guy was fixing up to take me to the right place (in a likely over-priced cab) when a co-bus rider asked if I needed to share a cab with him. It seemed a bit easier since he actually had a location in mind that was central and safe instead of my hope that the place I was being recommended to me was either of those things. So it all panned out and I got a hotel room at The Prince at 8am... and the fellow who helped me? Is actually from Ireland. Galway, Ireland. Like... the place I am going to do my Masters' Degree Ireland. Yeah. What are the chances??

So he showed me around the area today a bit - a great breakfast place, some bazaar-lessons, we struggled to the National Museum via the super clean/efficient un-Indian feeling Delhi Metro (and then a rickshaw since I didn't quite get the stop right) and then pre-dinner palm readings in a book store. Authentic, I know. But a BOOK STORE! And I was told I was lucky and the Golden Times of my life are just about to begin! So I say bring it on life. BRING. IT. ON. (however, I also want to say "I called it." Since I think on my other blog... I posted something just along those lines...nope, it was just a Facebook status: I will be winning the Gold Medal in Life this year. Now it's verified (by the book-shop palm reader).

Tomorrow: Agra. Strike that. Eight Hours: Agra!

Letting Go Again

After moderately successful meditation this morning to silence my mind I am sending one last blog post from Mcleod Ganj. I had really hoped to post another short story but that doesn't seem likely. Today I've got a full day of packing up my room at Snow Heights and lugging my backpack around until 6pm when my bus leaves for Delhi. The plan is to be minimalistic with movement so it's possible I will cocoon in to a computer terminal but I think I'd rather do some cafe hopping. I've got some great books to read (a library of choices!) and I'm sure I could even finish off another story in handwritten form. The cafe hopping will be slightly essential since last night I paid a visit to the Moonlight Thali for tea and take-out and only this morning realized I didn't pay for my tea(s). I can't leave with that kind of bad karma! Plus the place was really cute & friendly! Oh and had THE BEST take out bags in the world (you'll have to wait for the photo because I am not ruining the surprise with a description).

Tonight I sleep on the bus and tomorrow I sleep my first of three nights in Delhi. For those of you worried I was going to skip out on the Wonder of the World I have also secured a train ticket to Agra to see the Taj Mahal on the 17th. That leaves me 48 hours to explore Delhi (excluding sleep-time) and about 8.5 hours to wander Agra. I was also convinced to take the "Tourist Train" for one direction of the journey - which is, apparently, even better than "First Class" - fancy seats, a good view and even food and tea service. Fine. One way - in the morning, when I can actually see stuff. For the way back I insisted on the cheaper seats. Classic frugal Lyndia style.

I hope I can post once more in Delhi after I check out the Taj Mahal but who knows what the Flow will deliver. I have had such a wonderful trip and can't believe the India portion is so close to over. I'm certainly sad but I feel so lucky to have experienced all I have. Would I do it all over again? Yes! (Well everything I blogged about and stories I've written but not shared - there were some instances of um... uncertainty, I should say, that might make my loved ones a bit nervous and some of those I would not chose to re-do, except I know they all turned out alright!)

Without a doubt this has been a Journey of A Lifetime! My heart-felt thanks and E-love to all of you who have been reading along, commenting or emailing me about the adventures. It makes it all way more worth while to know people are out there reading what I've written and caring what I do :)

Sunrise From Snow Heights

p.s. even though it doesn't fit with the blog-name I will also add any Deutchland-adventures I have time to post as well. I'll be back in Canada by, about, May 1st (if I don't change my ticket or something... and I'm thinking about it).

First Prize for being Early

...goes to: Lyndia!

But this time I've taken "being early" to a whole new, practically obscene level. I cannot believe it. I got so lost in Rishikesh (hours/days/weeks/month(s)) that I managed to break my own best record of timely-ness.

Sometimes I've had people comment on how I am "so punctual" and they ask what my trick is. Usually I tell them it's about planning ahead but that I've been planning like this for so long that "being early" is just habitual and "being ontime" is almost unacceptable as it almost feels late!

Luckily and thankfully the folks here in Dehradun that I've met are not only gracious and welcoming but totally able to overlook that my "punctuality" has crossed a line... so get ready for it. Guess how early I was?

I was approximately 27 hours early. TWENTY SEVEN HOURS! Compound this with the fact that the driver (I ended up hiring a car instead of taking the bus) was actually on NON-Indian time and apparently was ready to take me even three hours EARLIER. Good grief! The Universe is conspiring to make me terribly, unfashionably and very inconveniently early.

So I arrived a day before I said I would. How did this happen? I guess I counted 2011 as an un-leap year and took a day OFF February (sorry February) and simply counted yesterday March 2. Easy, I guess? Unfortunately this means I missed the camping trip BUT came on the day they DEPARTED not returned. Thus, my much anticipated meeting of Mrs. B will be delayed until the scheduled time. Oh poorly-timed, oxymoronic Lyndia, when will you ever learn?

Sunrise from the apartment accomodations

Good news? The patient front gate guards... the confused and immensely helpful staff... the slightly skeptical but supportive driver and then I even got to meet the school's headmaster.

But the best part? Well... that everything's worked out so far! Today (today = Tuesday, March 2nd 2011 - just reminding myself) is a holiday and things are certainly laid back and there's lots of time to see the new surroundings and take in the transition. The impressive, beautiful campus of the Doon School and my accommodations off-campus with... (you'll never guess) an ART TEACHER (Ceramics, Sculpture, Painting, Textiles) who is so awesome and helpful and lovely, named Banita! So I'm invading her studio apartment and she is an amazingly gracious hostess! First she took me for, shockingly, burgers at "Hot Spice" (a little fast food shop) which I was relieved to find out were vegetable patties because I was hoping I was not forcing any "non-veg" dietary options on anyone! But I think I will be able to keep on the bandwagon of the vegetarian diet while I am here :)

SpongeBob on the patio outside the studio apartment

I am really enjoying it so far (despite this silly cough I have assumed for the last couple days - which she tried to aid the relief of with a nice mint, raisin, cinnamon tea and gogul - a local sweetner of some kind that I doubt I've spelled correctly) and frankly, I am just so thankful that no one has even brought up my anti-tardiness again. In the upstairs studio with lime green curtains we shared stories and talked about art and I even got to see my hostess' art portfolio and it was all so lovely!

Toady? I've got the tour of the campus grounds (absolutely awe-inspiring and I DO have pictures... for another day). Now I am chillin' in the Ceramics Studio and wishing my art-inclined friends could see this place! (Kali, Katie, Janae, Heather, Cadence, Dad! others... this is a phenomenal set-up and any high school art teacher would be drooling at the space, materials and the required time teachers have for the own work!)

I look forward to learning how I will be able to be of service while I am here!

First I take Manhattan then I take Dehradun

I hope the title of this post was sung to the appropriate tune... my last (half) day in Rishikesh and my mini-road trip to Dehradun.

After much a bit of deliberation I am opting to take the "first class" method of trasport and feel like some kind of inauthentic glamour queen because of it.

Option 1: taxi to Rishikesh town/bus stop - public bus - taxi to Doon School (and likely getting ripped off for the first and last step. Slightly unclear on the scheduling - likely have to wait an hour or more beyond the travel time).
Required: carry over-sized, now TOTALLY FULL 40-some liter backpack.
Cost: about $12 Canadian Dollars

Option 2: hire a private car from the Ashram door to the school campus (set price & reasonably reliable timetable... i.e. when I order it (give or take aka. Indian time).
Required: carry backpack to door and... uhhh... no that's it.
Cost: about $25 Canadian Dollars.

I opted for the $13 peace-of-mind fee. Just call me a Hollywood Heiress... actually, please don't.

Next stop - Dehradun!

250km by Bus

First, don't use Canadian-Prairie standards when judging the time it takes to drive 250km by bus.

Now I know.

I also know just how "creative" the creative driving here can be. We had an excellent time comparing the tune and duration of horn honks as the typical bumper "sticker" is PLEASE HONK (when passing) and I am quite sure most disregard the latter... the best way to compensate is to play a little game called "Use this Honk as a pitch pipe and try and sing along" (when the horn blast is shorter, of course) or, simply "Dance Off" (for longer honks). All in all it was an interesting ride.

I must admit that like my fellow passengers (about 30 of us in the YTT 200 program and then a few others in the way of staff and drivers) liked the Fresh Banana stop, the Roasted Peanut stop and the Half-Way There stop. The little garden restaurant would have had me at "no honking" but it went further and amazed more. There was a small "Chickens of the World" Exhibit - which is exactly as it sounds: about 10 chickens in cages (with majestic and impressive plumage, no doubt) and their respective countries of origin. THEN there were the lovely English signs reminding us not to take glasses on the stone patio and to "Treasure Cleanliness." I would have been done then but as we were snacking on Chai Masala, deep fried tofu, deep fried cauliflower and deep fried leaves (yes, leaves) some monkeys (that we learned later are the "grouchy" type) peeked out of the trees and off the roof to try and join us. Sweet! (and no, I didn't take a picture.)

After the 6.5 hours required to go the distance from Delhi to Rishikesh we arrived (close to) the Ashram. Since the bus couldn't turn down the tiny road properly it just let us off and we walked the last "block."

Since then things have been great. I don't have much time right now to share more but I hope to add a few more posts this week before the YTT 200 course "officially" begins. They call the first three days "jet lag days" and we've got a tour of the neighbourhood, two yoga classes a day, delicious food and a hike to a nearby waterfall all before Sunday! So far so... great!

p.s. in the first 3 hours... the cow count was approximately 310. The cow count is officially terminated.