h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Dear All

17 days in and I feel I really know India, I mean really know India. I
am dirty, dusty and dehydrated, (the latter caused by yet another 'D')
and I could knit ten bl***y Pashminas with my leg hair!
You were right, Michael it is impossible to spend any time in this
delightful country and not succumb to the other'D'.
I fondly imagined it would result in my becoming sylph like.
The reality regrettably is not quite so attractive.
Having consumed everything from porridge to Paneer Masala in my quest
for a botty bung, and vainly believing that I should be able to eat
anything I like in the process without putting on an ounce, I am
horrified to discover that the other D' does not work that way.

You merely lose fluids. Three days in and I am gulping down the
imodium and the dialarite with the enthusiasm I usually reserve for a
good chardonnay. My skin is a paler shade of Saffron, my bent form
(crippled with stomach cramps) delights Gavin who keeps referring to
me as 'The old Dear', and I swear I've put on half a stone.
To make matters worse, (family...what is it with us and foreign
climes? Why do we have to travel with half a Kilo of cortisone?) I
have developed foot fungus, camel arse rot and a patch of dry skin
under the left boob that makes the wearing of upper torso scaffolding
impossible.

Yes I feel I am getting to know India. The fifteen of us have grown
together know each other and the country well. We have shared the
delights of the desert, the near death by Tuk Tuk experiences, the
Palaces, the forts, the Temples...dear God how many Temples....

I even had a ceremony by a Holy Lake (also known as the local
launderette and ablution block) carried out by a Hindu priest so I
could scatter some ashes and find new Karma.
This required rather a lot of the Lake to be poured over me, along with milk and yogurt and rice and sugar and red paint and yellow paint and flower petals and even more of the lake (In fact I blame the lake for the dreaded 'D').
A ubiquitous cow watched the proceedings ...No,Mother, I don't mean you...India has rather a lot of cows. Gavin and I refer to them as 'Roadsweepers'. They eat anything and everything and flower petals and yogurt were almost a temptation too far.

The ceremony was very moving though and the appearance of a fish...a
rather large fish just as the ashes were tipped into the water, was
quite spooky...Himself being a Pisces and all.

17 days in and we have shared smog that gives a whole new meaning to
the phrase 'passive smoking'. We have smelt smells that should never
be bottled and have had our eyes and skin sandblasted by a nature that
puts a building site to shame.
We have travelled together... on buses for days, on trains overnight,
playing cricket with sox in the corridor and fighting for the top bunk
or hanging out of the open door watching the ground pass by at a speed
that,should one fall out, would result in instant death, while
savouring a cigarette.
We have shared food on camels and stories on elephants and we have
seen such beauty too.

The sunset over Pushkar and the magic of the night time ceremony for
the scattering of the ashes of a saint, (an event that rarely happens
in a lifetime and it happened that day) 50,000 candles lit around the
lake accompanied by music and chanting that Cecile B de Mille would
have a hard time reproducing.
Dawn over the mountain fort whose walls are nearly as wide as the
great wall of China and whose name eludes me without the aid of an
itinerary.
The Golden city of Jaisalmer on New Year's eve, the party
in the Chai bar where you could have anything you wanted...in India
everything is possible!
The faces, some serene, others worn out before their time, ravaged by
the hardships this land imposes.
We have sipped cocktails in the 5 star Polo bar in Jaipur and cried
silently over the minus 5 star homes not one kilometre away.

Tomorrow is the Taj then we lose half our friends. Only six of us go
on to Varanassi (another two days on sleeper trains) the others go
back to Delhi then back to their other worlds.
All we have left to share is a 6 hour journey and then the Taj. I know
it will be as special as everything else. I think we will always be
part of each others lives in some small way, be it just an email, or a
postcard or (for some of us) a visit and time spent together again.

India is a place you have to share. It is not a choice it is a fact.
I shall never forget India and I would like to return and explore more
one day but for now I confess all I really desire is a hot bath, a
sunbed and a decent razor, and if I never see a camel again it will be
too soon!

Take care
Boots

India has long been on my list of places to go and really see. It sounds fabulous and also daunting in the way that only Asia can be. A truly magical continent and it has taken me far too long to go back.

I do hope you packed your charcoal tablets and Cuticura? No one with our heritage crosses the Channel with out them

What, the yogurt didn't help with the dry patch?

Seriously, it sounds like you are having a great time (lack of hot baths and razors and presence of a certain D not withstanding) As for foot-rot and dry patches, I've got them and I'm in Scotland!

Zantic Breaking out of Lurk mode cos it's either that or job-hunting...