A journey through South-East Asia - visiting the temples of Thailand, floating down the Mekong in a slow boat, seeing the sunset in Laos, waiting for the quiet of night in Hanoi, drifting through Halong Bay, trekking the mountains of SaPa, travelogue, trip, travel, journey, road, Asia, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Indochina, Mekong, Halong Bay, Hanoi, Vang Vien, Chang Mai, Bangkok, slow boat, Luang Prabang, Pak Ou



View from hotel room, Delhi

Saturday, 16. November 2002 09:58

Ok. So no matter how much you prepare for India, you can't prepare for it. I knew this before I arrived, but surely I believe it with no shadow of doubt at this point. I don't know where the hell I am *grin* but it can't possibly be real.

Where on earth do I start? The plane ride was hideously long, and the planes were packed with people and screaming babies (no, those don't count as people). Luckily, we weren't sitting by those bundles of joy.

Customs took a while, leaving us time to admire the marble floors of the airport... and most other places we go to have marble in one shape or another (this dazzles Penny, so I thought I would share. I'd be more impressed if it was all tiger's eye or condensed lint or something a little different).

Getting baggage, changing money and getting through customs was all but easy. Getting OUT of the airport was harder. Geetali met us at the airport and had sent her driver to go get the car, but he disappeared. This was my first taste of how things run in India (and I think that statement will have more weight in a week when I've experienced more). Regardless, Geetali is a sweet woman, and Sunita (that's how it is pronounced anyways) is a character I will have to divulge on another time (she's the 'girl friday').

We had arrived at night... 2 am, so I didn't get to really see what I had gotten myself into that first night. We didn't get to Geetali's until 4:30ish after all the nonsense, so Penny and I slept till 5 pm the next night (once again, deprived of the outside world). The next morning, my first morning out, started with me kneeling at the porcelain god, throwing up what little I had in my stomach. Dehydration? Reaction to the boiled and purified water? Malaria pills reaction? Flu bug? Raunchy papaya? Who knows. But it was a bad omen I tried to ignore. All I knew was that I needed bottled water, and fast.

Geetali had to work, so we went into town with her on her 'work bus'. That was when it really hit me where I was (let me send this off and continue in a second email)

Next Mail: India part 2

this travelogue is part of the subside travelzine
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