Sunday evening, first down time since I've been back - time for the last blog of the year! And I've decided not to make it a long one after all. Well, I'll try. I've got 3 days and 12 pages of journal writing cover.
So I left off last Sunday night, when I was dropped off at the ashram after dinner with Swati, Amit and Arnav. After the good-byes, I headed up to my room for what I thought would be about an hour of packing to finalize everything and be all ready to go early the next morning. It was 9:30pm. Four hours later, I was done. Finally went to bed at 1:30, but the mosquitoes were out with a vengeance. They buzzed and bit all night, and when my alarm went off at 4:30am, it didn't wake me up - I hadn't yet slept. Up I got, gathered my meticulously packed luggage, and went downstairs in the dark to meet Amit, who was taking me across the RamJula bridge to the taxi he had booked for me to Haridwar, where I'd be catching my train to Delhi at 6:22. Actually, due to the quantity of luggage I had, he couldn't fit it and me on the motorbike, so he took the heavy suitcase and I walked across with the rest. Waited a few minutes for the cab, said good-bye to Amit, and drove out of Rishikesh. Very decent driver, calm and cautious, except for one heart-palpitating manoeuvre. Got to the train station with half an hour to spare, but train was half an hour late, so stood there for an hour with my 50+ kilos of luggage. When the train finally arrived, it appeared to be wanting to catch up on time, so it stopped only very briefly at the platform, starting to chug along the tracks again before everyone had the chance to get in. Including me. And then, like in the movies, I did it. I started running alongside the train, and with a little help - thank goodness, otherwise I wouldn't have made it on - I grabbed onto the outer poles of the entrance way, took a big step up, and held on for dear life as the train picked up speed. I remained there, with my heavy backpack and heels still protruding out of the entrance, for a few minutes, as people pushed and shoved their way to their seats, making room for me to actually plant my feet firmly on the floor and breathe. Due to seating confusion and having to do several trips taking one piece of luggage at a time through the narrow aisles from one train car to another, I wasn't seated with all my stuff until over an hour later. Then, it was 4 more hours to Delhi.
From the New Delhi train station, I walked 15 minutes to my now familiar RAK Hotel (more of a dingy guesthouse), and collapsed onto the bed with the fan on high when I got to my room. Two months of intensive yoga had pretty much taken care of my neck and shoulder problems, but 2 days of lugging around more than 50 kgs of luggage (including 36 new books) undid all that good work. Back to yoga tomorrow! After a quick room rest, went out for lunch and internet, then back to room for some TV and short nap. Some final shopping along Main Bazaar followed, then blog and dinner. Back for shower, final packing - somehow managing to fit my afternoon purchases into my already overloaded backpack and suitcase - and in bed by 11.
Up at 5am after a great, solid 6 hours of sleep, and had a fantastic taxi driver to the airport. I was concerned about the weight of my luggage for the plane, but got through check-in at no extra charge. Had some time to spare, but still ended up running to my gate after hearing the final boarding call while I was distracted with, yes, more shopping. Pretty perfect 4 hour flight to Doha, aside from the very large man in the seat beside me, whose right shoulder and arm took up at least a quarter of my seat, and who chewed his food in a very cow/camel-like manner, sound effects and all, after which he burped shamelessly and repeatedly, every time forcing me to hold my breath. Smoothest landing I've ever experienced in Doha, city of sand. Qatar is a desert country. It also has the fastest growing economy in the world and highest per capita income. Yes, I read the on-flight magazine.
Inside Doha airport by 11am, and my next flight to Montreal wasn't until 8 the next morning. Sure, I had some options, and had hesitated quite a bit over how to spend that time, but after the last few hectic days in Rishikesh and Delhi, I actually found the idea of sitting in an airport for 21 hours, with nothing to do and nowhere to go quite appealing. So I stopped thinking about how to get a one-day transit visa to go into the city, or inquiring about earlier flights home, and made a list of how to occupy my time at the airport. Number 1: Coffee Beanery for a $6 latte and flipping through Vogue India. Next was some usage of the free internet station, then sitting down to calculate my trip budget. 3x what I had planned for spending money. But initial estimate was a little unreasonable. Don't regret any of my purchases. Speaking of which, I then browsed the duty-free shops, where I'd pick up a few more things in the morning before boarding. The Doha duty-free is the kind of place that has Maseratis on display and gigantic $70 jars of Nutella for sale. Next, I found a seat by the huge windows at the take-off area and took out my Kundalini coloring book and pencil crayons from Amit's stationary shop, played some Snatam Kaur on my iPod, and was occupied for a couple hours, wishing each plane that took off a safe journey. Got my free meal voucher (since my layover was more than 5 hours), had a yummy dinner, went for a little more web, and then settled in for the night. While wandering in the afternoon, I had found the Quiet Room, a semi-dark room with semi-reclining long chairs where people could rest and sleep. Strapped myself to my bags, and started trying to sleep at 10. At 1:00 I was still restless, waking up every 20 minutes or so due to badly positioned head/neck. Seats weren't sufficiently reclined for proper head relaxation. So I left my chair, unrolled my two yoga mats, and lay them down in a corner of the quiet room. Better sleep like that, waking only every hour before getting up at 6. Brushed my teeth, put on some fresh undergarments, picked up a few things at duty-free, bought a spectacularly scrumptious vanilla bean cupcake, boarded at 8:20, and was in the air by 9. Thirteen hours and 4 movies later (Les Miserables was amazing - its powerful songs of love and revolution had me crying again and again), I was at Pierre-Elliot Trudeau Airport.
Ok, so that wasn't exactly a short post. But it's the last one... till next year's Indian adventure! It was once again a priceless and enlightening journey, and my love of India continues to grow.
So I left off last Sunday night, when I was dropped off at the ashram after dinner with Swati, Amit and Arnav. After the good-byes, I headed up to my room for what I thought would be about an hour of packing to finalize everything and be all ready to go early the next morning. It was 9:30pm. Four hours later, I was done. Finally went to bed at 1:30, but the mosquitoes were out with a vengeance. They buzzed and bit all night, and when my alarm went off at 4:30am, it didn't wake me up - I hadn't yet slept. Up I got, gathered my meticulously packed luggage, and went downstairs in the dark to meet Amit, who was taking me across the RamJula bridge to the taxi he had booked for me to Haridwar, where I'd be catching my train to Delhi at 6:22. Actually, due to the quantity of luggage I had, he couldn't fit it and me on the motorbike, so he took the heavy suitcase and I walked across with the rest. Waited a few minutes for the cab, said good-bye to Amit, and drove out of Rishikesh. Very decent driver, calm and cautious, except for one heart-palpitating manoeuvre. Got to the train station with half an hour to spare, but train was half an hour late, so stood there for an hour with my 50+ kilos of luggage. When the train finally arrived, it appeared to be wanting to catch up on time, so it stopped only very briefly at the platform, starting to chug along the tracks again before everyone had the chance to get in. Including me. And then, like in the movies, I did it. I started running alongside the train, and with a little help - thank goodness, otherwise I wouldn't have made it on - I grabbed onto the outer poles of the entrance way, took a big step up, and held on for dear life as the train picked up speed. I remained there, with my heavy backpack and heels still protruding out of the entrance, for a few minutes, as people pushed and shoved their way to their seats, making room for me to actually plant my feet firmly on the floor and breathe. Due to seating confusion and having to do several trips taking one piece of luggage at a time through the narrow aisles from one train car to another, I wasn't seated with all my stuff until over an hour later. Then, it was 4 more hours to Delhi.
From the New Delhi train station, I walked 15 minutes to my now familiar RAK Hotel (more of a dingy guesthouse), and collapsed onto the bed with the fan on high when I got to my room. Two months of intensive yoga had pretty much taken care of my neck and shoulder problems, but 2 days of lugging around more than 50 kgs of luggage (including 36 new books) undid all that good work. Back to yoga tomorrow! After a quick room rest, went out for lunch and internet, then back to room for some TV and short nap. Some final shopping along Main Bazaar followed, then blog and dinner. Back for shower, final packing - somehow managing to fit my afternoon purchases into my already overloaded backpack and suitcase - and in bed by 11.
Up at 5am after a great, solid 6 hours of sleep, and had a fantastic taxi driver to the airport. I was concerned about the weight of my luggage for the plane, but got through check-in at no extra charge. Had some time to spare, but still ended up running to my gate after hearing the final boarding call while I was distracted with, yes, more shopping. Pretty perfect 4 hour flight to Doha, aside from the very large man in the seat beside me, whose right shoulder and arm took up at least a quarter of my seat, and who chewed his food in a very cow/camel-like manner, sound effects and all, after which he burped shamelessly and repeatedly, every time forcing me to hold my breath. Smoothest landing I've ever experienced in Doha, city of sand. Qatar is a desert country. It also has the fastest growing economy in the world and highest per capita income. Yes, I read the on-flight magazine.
Inside Doha airport by 11am, and my next flight to Montreal wasn't until 8 the next morning. Sure, I had some options, and had hesitated quite a bit over how to spend that time, but after the last few hectic days in Rishikesh and Delhi, I actually found the idea of sitting in an airport for 21 hours, with nothing to do and nowhere to go quite appealing. So I stopped thinking about how to get a one-day transit visa to go into the city, or inquiring about earlier flights home, and made a list of how to occupy my time at the airport. Number 1: Coffee Beanery for a $6 latte and flipping through Vogue India. Next was some usage of the free internet station, then sitting down to calculate my trip budget. 3x what I had planned for spending money. But initial estimate was a little unreasonable. Don't regret any of my purchases. Speaking of which, I then browsed the duty-free shops, where I'd pick up a few more things in the morning before boarding. The Doha duty-free is the kind of place that has Maseratis on display and gigantic $70 jars of Nutella for sale. Next, I found a seat by the huge windows at the take-off area and took out my Kundalini coloring book and pencil crayons from Amit's stationary shop, played some Snatam Kaur on my iPod, and was occupied for a couple hours, wishing each plane that took off a safe journey. Got my free meal voucher (since my layover was more than 5 hours), had a yummy dinner, went for a little more web, and then settled in for the night. While wandering in the afternoon, I had found the Quiet Room, a semi-dark room with semi-reclining long chairs where people could rest and sleep. Strapped myself to my bags, and started trying to sleep at 10. At 1:00 I was still restless, waking up every 20 minutes or so due to badly positioned head/neck. Seats weren't sufficiently reclined for proper head relaxation. So I left my chair, unrolled my two yoga mats, and lay them down in a corner of the quiet room. Better sleep like that, waking only every hour before getting up at 6. Brushed my teeth, put on some fresh undergarments, picked up a few things at duty-free, bought a spectacularly scrumptious vanilla bean cupcake, boarded at 8:20, and was in the air by 9. Thirteen hours and 4 movies later (Les Miserables was amazing - its powerful songs of love and revolution had me crying again and again), I was at Pierre-Elliot Trudeau Airport.
Ok, so that wasn't exactly a short post. But it's the last one... till next year's Indian adventure! It was once again a priceless and enlightening journey, and my love of India continues to grow.
