Indigo, pool and movies…..

Since being here in Luang Prabang, I’ve noticed a great deal of blue (indigo) fabric. Those who know me, know of my (slight) obsession with carpets, so when I happened to see a little shop with something looking suspiciously like one hanging at the door, I felt duty-bound to look further…. The young man in charge was a wealth of information about all things ‘indigo’, enlightening me on the principle provinces where these gorgeous blue items are produced. Clothes, bags, wall hangings, rugs, all in varying shades and weaves. Countless purchases would have left with me if I wasn’t responsible for carrying my own luggage!!!! 


After a sound beating of 2-1 at SkipBo, Scott thought he’d like to try to even the playing field, so last night we went in search of a pool table! 

In the groovy wee part of town where the Indigo shop is, we found FREE POOL at the ‘Red Bul’ Bar. A game was in progress, but we soon arranged to play doubles with the locals. ‘Vinnie’ was quite the lad (although 47), and as the conversation progressed, we found he’d lived in Australia whilst studying (didn’t like it), and then France (which he did!). His pool partners were many and varied, all seeming to be of the same technique – bash it, hard and fast!…..a technique that appeared to work for them! Scott and I managed to hold our own, however, and it wasn’t until some (local?) girls turned up and took over the table, that we wandered off home. A great evening, and a lesson on the strangest rules of pool I’ve ever come across…..

Thailand has the reputation of having the whole ‘ most fabulous silk’ thing going on, but I’ve got to say, Laos silk is second to none. The richness of colour, and variety of patterns and weave have me spellbound…..Last time I was here, I absolutely had to buy a wall piece, which unfortunately never made it home……a postal error here or there, I never found out….but because of that , I’m feeling justified in the need to purchase another…….

The re-discovery of ‘Le’tranger Books and Tea’ made me impossibly happy! This adorable little shop was a place I loved last visit, so to find it still operating, albeit slightly altered, was fantastic. The 2nd hand books have dropped off somewhat, due to the onset of Kindle etc, I guess, but they’ve diversified into Gallery-type items, and a more extensive menu. The bonus is that now they also show movies, nightly, upstairs, free….the only requirement to buy food or drink. Fabulous!!

Elephant Valley….

A bit of a backtrack on this one, back to Chiang Rai, and an elephant sanctuary worth a mention.
We met Jack while considering the option of going to ‘Elephant Valley’ which we’d seen advertised regularly. After 10 minutes with Jack we were signed up….

A young Englishman, Jack had worked for an NGO in Cambodia, with elephants, for 10 years before coming to Thailand, and together with a Thai partner and 1 other, they started their own sanctuary. 40 acres and 6 ‘rescue’ elephants thus far, Jacks vision is that these, and more, will ultimately re-become elephants. The elephants still have their mahouts, but gone are the bull-hooks and cruel tactics to ‘train’ the creatures to work or perform tricks…..a gentle tug on an ear, and words are the training aids in use here. And the training is just to instill natural elephant behaviour, as opposed to the lessons that these elephants have had to learn within their previous years of captivity.
The group here consists of one bull, four adult females, and one young female. The only two that appear to be ‘friends’, are one of the adult females and the young one. These two stay together constantly while all the others remain solitary. It was endearing to watch the antics of the two, especially whilst swimming…..auntie staying close to make sure the younger was able to get up the slippery bank when necessary, and the water-play.


The bull has his mahout with him most of the time, and still has a drag-chain round one foot….This because he has a tendency to misbehave, and I guess an elephant with large tusks and a bad attitude could cause quite a bit of damage should he run amok….!


We got to sit an watch these fabulous beasts at 2 or 3 various sites round the property, while they just went about their elephant business, and Jack talked about them, his dream, elephants in general, world affairs…..in fact just about any topic you could name, Jack being a constant talker. His passion and commitment are clear, though, and I think an elephant world with Jack in it is definitely a better place.

After some hours of swimming and grazing, the herd ambled back to where they are hosed down and scrubbed, and I swear I could see the pleasure on their faces as this was happening….I was even lucky enough to capture a tender moment between elephant and mahout….


At the end of the day we all got to feed the gang with pieces of banana tree, after which they wandered off to fresh pasture….

It was a pleasure and an honour to spend the afternoon with these magnificent animals.

Oh, and Jack.

Onward to Luang Prabang…..a Journey on the Mighty Mekong!

A 6am start….well not quite, the driver was running a bit late, then had some minor ticketing and money drama…. But eventually, we were on our way!

It was about 2 hours to the Thai border, then aboard a bus for the 2 km or so drive to the Laotian one…..certainly a lot more streamlined than my last SE Asian border crossing! Still the same fancy visas and US $30 fee, but altogether an easy experience. From there it was a squashed songthaew 20 minute drive to the boat…..And what a boat!! In my imaginings it was at best a longboat with tarp cover, but what awaited us was a longboat, yes, but altogether more luxurious……booth seating, with cushions and tables, and two slightly higher levels with (cushioned) seating along the walls – a PROPER roof and plastic roll-down, and fabric curtains. A veritable palace! Oh, and Beerlao on board ( no food, but beer – priorities obviously).

I had a welling of emotion being once again on this, the fabulous Mekong. This river most definitely occupies a piece of my heart, so there was no trepidation about the notion of spending the next 2 days on this magnificent waterway.

Being the wettest month of the wet season, the river was swollen to its maximum and sepia in colour, with minimal traffic. The driver was obviously well-experienced, motoring from one side to the other to escape whatever obstacles not apparent to us, his passengers. It appeared to be a family operation…. husband, skipper; wife, crew; and children, entertainment…..


Day 2

Spent the night at Pakbeng. Room kind of average but virtually right on the river so 😊 Mine host quite the Mr Efficient – recommending the no. 1 vego dinner and producing beer in seconds….have an inkling that he even procured some local weed for our fellow travellers…. Back on the river bright and early for the big day ahead. The 4⭐️ boat sadly reduced to ⭐️, but comfortable enough, and coincidentally, more what I’d expected initially. The weather fine and clear – perfect in fact!


I have immense admiration for the river-folk who ply their craft daily on this body of water. They must be able to read every swirling eddy in all it’s ebb and flow…..and especially now, being as opaque as clay, and the current extra swift.

We continued to pass an alarming array of flotsam and jetsam, and had the discussion about whether, or not, this is better (of corse, none of it’s actually good!) than the rivers at home…..where we can’t see the biochemicals and farm effluent that fill our rivers…..?? Regardless of the answer to that, I do despair that it all does, eventually reach the ocean…..

When the Pak Ou Caves finally came into view, I knew we were nearly at our destination. It was reasonable to expect that Luang Prabang would be a little changed from my last visit 7 years ago, but as we neared, the amount of construction along the banks of the river made me somewhat nervous. When we passed a massive bridge being built across the river, I understood that Laos’s days of sleepy-hollowness were almost at an end…..

Luang Prabang has changed, grown, more traffic, hotels etc, but alongside the Mekong, the UNESCO World Hertiage site remains pretty much the same…….a lovely cobbled- lane, French-architectured, tree-lined town of unbelievable cuteness……long may it remain!

Out and About….

Well, the supposed orientation I had of this city went completely out the window when I pedalled off on my bicycle yesterday! 

Our guest house lies in a maze of small lanes, and where normally we take the right turn, I decided on the left…..Being 9am-ish and somewhat overcast from the previous nights rain, I took neither sunglasses nor hat on my wee foray, thinking there would be no need. 30 minutes in and having found lovely tree-ed avenues, the sunlight that had appeared was dappled and pleasant, so I kept on adventuring into uncharted territory.  It was late morning and in blazing heat when I realised I was completely and utterly lost! Oh, I’d not included water either! When a cafe with wi- fi appeared I decided to resort to uncle google….and iced coffee! Which was terribly convenient while I was THERE but useless once out of range. Fortunately a young couple understood my predicament and drew (Yes! Old school!) me a detailed map for my route homeward-bound.  Another 30 minutes had me home….looking something akin to a boiled crayfish…..but home nonetheless!


The scooter….bring it on!!! I can navigate from the pillion….


One of Chiang Rai’s claim-to-fame tourist destinations is Baandam, ‘The Black House’……the creation of one of Thailands national treasures, the painter Thawan Duchanee. The property boasts a collection of  almost 40 black buildings of varying design and materials, all bursting with mostly dead animal stuff…..skins, skulls horns, bones etc. And some of it seriously disturbing….There were literally hundreds of water buffalo horns, many of which were used in the construction of chairs, dozens of full, including head, crocodile skins, and even a polar bear…..The finish for me was a round concrete structure with the outside covered in (painted) eyes, and  the inside completely ringed with water buffalo horn chairs, with a python skin stretched through the middle piled with money…..We had seen enough of the artists’ work (paintings) scattered throughout the buildings to realise that the tortured and biker-tattoo nature of his work wasn’t our particular cup-of-tea, so drew to a close our visit…..The unpleasant feeling of the round-house stayed with me for some time however.

Today we became vastly more intrepid when we decided to venture to the Burmese border at Mae Sai some 60kms away, by scooter! So, clothed in typical Thai scooter gear (light-weight clothes offering zero protection and jandals, one helmet between us, on me) off we went….completely against Scotts better judgment, I’m sure! 

The journey took a couple of hours, with sore butt stops etc, but the scenery was pretty impressive with forested mountains and rice paddies, interspersed with the odd temple. Mae Sai proved to be quite a large city, the main road leading in became wide and lined with 3-4 story concrete buildings, culminating in a huge blue portal….this being the border crossing. Street food and market stalls were installed not only along the road edges, but permanently situated in immense covered walkways. 

Beyond all this, of course, were the mountains of Burma….looking suitably foggy and mystical, but as close as we could get to those, was a photo…..


The clouds were gathering as we were making ready to leave for the trip back to Chiang Rai, and just as we got underway the daily downpour began….after taking shelter for 15-20 minutes though, we were back on the road!

Chiang Rai

Well, after some initial confusion, we were passed on to an Uber driver who could make the 6-hour return trip to take us on the next leg of our journey, Chiang Rai. 3 hours north of Chiang Mai in the mountainous (?!) Chiang Rai province. I had visions of a smallish hillside city where I would have not the least inclination to ride a bicycle…..the reality being entirely different! Flat and large, in fact! The outskirts of the city were completely uninviting, but once ensconced in our room, then out and about ( on the bicycles, no less!), the town began to exhibit a certain charm. Especially with the discovery of a ‘Cat Cafe’! Have your coffee with a cat…..well, 18-20 of them actually! Wonderful!! And proof that cats still rule! 


After an afternoon and evening of rain, a day fit for a scooter dawned, so after the morning spent at the fabulous ‘White Temple’, of which I’ve never heard before, we hit the road, so-to-speak. 

The White Temple is really something that must be seen as photos will never quite do it the justice it warrants…..absolutely magnificent! But with some odd quirks which were kinda lost on us…for instance, a larger-than-life mirror-mosaiced Transformer!!???? I wanted to be photographed with it but was far too submissive in the queue…… Giving up on that idea, we sought coffee, after which I had a wander through a conveniently-located mall. Having long desired to be the owner of a crocodile skin bag, imagine my delight when I came across a half price sale of those very articles! I couldn’t believe my good fortune when I found, both one in a style I loved, and the sale price was a mere $120-ish! Thankfully I didn’t swish over my credit card right there and then, and had the presence-of-mind to check, and re-check those figures…..ERRKK I had missed a few zeros……I backed out of the shop apologetic and sheepish all the while wondering if…..COULD I?……to which the sane side of my mind was screaming NO!!!!  

The afternoon was spent tootling round on said scooter, which was both fun, and a good chance of orientation. Came across a street food and vegetable market, always intriguing and/or disturbing with its sights and smells…..I certainly find it intriguing how anyone could buy meat from a street vendor, for human consumption……

This place is home for the week, where to next…..? Hmmmmm…..

Chiang Mai musings….and Muay Thai!

The big wet that had been brewing for some days finally announced itself with a crashing of thunder followed soon after by the deluge! Having been lucky to have escaped much rain thus far, it appears to have caught up with us….an evening of the heavy stuff had the moat flowing at its brim, but overnight had returned to its usual level.


Monks in their turmeric and saffron robes, mostly young so ‘novices’ I would imagine….is it all still relevant in the 21st century? I guess so judging by the number of functioning temples…..


The frequent sight of crumbling fortifications around the old city prompted me to research the history of this town. I discovered it was founded in 1296 as capital of the then independent Lanna Kingdom which existed til 1558. One of the oldest temples remain from the 14th century!
Franjipani trees are abundant, of course, ranging in colour from white through to dark red, and their exotic fragrance vies with that other oft-smelt odour of SE Asian countries, open drain….


Food continues to be a delight, of course…..I tried the famous Khao Soi (with tofu as opposed to the usual chicken) the other night. It’s fabulousness wasn’t only in the taste but also in the presentation! A myriad of Pad Thai’s washed down with a Chang remains the lunch fav though! And a game of Skip-Bo……

And so to the Muay Thai….. We tried one night when out to attend, but the particular venue didn’t seem to have the ring of authenticity we were after (the bars and lady-boys had Scott somewhat alarmed), so I accessed a poster advertising what appeared to be legit, at a ‘stadium’, 9pm start and 7 fights! For 600 baht we had second row seats and waiter service…..and after endless ‘Rocky’ music playing to a video explaining the moves, it finally got underway. In the first fight the opponents were children (one being all of eight, I swear), which thankfully didn’t last long! The 2nd were the girls, which appeared to get quite vicious, but graciousness still prevailed at the end…..The fights progressed with each one marking a kind of ‘next level’, until the 7th and last with the opponents having the look (and moves) of the well-experienced. They went 5 rounds,  and with a bloodied face, the winner was pronounced! A great evening, and a sport I’ve been interested in witnessing for some time, but like motorbike racing, one I won’t need to revisit.

Chiang Mai

I was last in Chiang Mai 12 years ago with a friend and my son, and remember it just as a big town, so was blown away to find the exponential growth that is the Chiang Mai of today. I don’t remember whether there was an international airport (presumably there was), but we certainly arrived at one the other day…..flying in, Scott exclaimed that the city was ‘massive’, and indeed that’s surely how it looked, with twinkling lights as far as the eye could see!

Once again I’d booked somewhere to go immediately off the plane…..On the map it stated the accommodation was one kilometre away. It perhaps was, but the route we travelled was more like five…..I had no recollection of any of it! On arrival we were charged again, for the room I’d already paid online for (bah humbug booking.com!), made ourselves comfortable, then went for a walk.

The night market we came across was a perfect reintroduction to Chiang Mai for me, having fond memories of my last visit. Great foodie odours, and some not so great (durian, eek!), interesting handcrafts, soulful local music and some that was purely fun, and fabulous exotic fruit juices. We even came upon limes to add to our duty-free Bombay Sapphire…..excellent!!!


The next day was spent on R&R (research and relocation)……finding somewhere interesting and comfortable enough for Scott to work, and me to wander, for the week….A small boutique hotel at the edge of the old town opposite the moat, has been ideal!

After four days thus far at this lovely wee home, we’re feeling quite well-oriented, especially after having gotten hopelessly lost only once…..so lost in fact, that we had to get a tuk-tuk to bring us home, which although it looked pretty funny, Scott swears he’ll not ever get in another…..
Walking, I find, is a great way to get my bearings….I especially like alleys and lanes, there’s nothing quite like them for getting the feel of a neighbourhood…..

Chiang Mai is spoilt for choice as far as temples go. You can barely walk a block before another gleaming gold stupa appears, which of course is lovely…..but does make me wonder who funds all that gold leaf…..


And tonight, for something completely different, Muay Thai is on the agenda!

Penang. 2017

We arrived in Penang at the perfect time!

Flying in was reminiscent of  the sky-line of Hong Kong with towering concrete high-rises….with a burgeoning population and limited space, the only way to go is up…..But once in the UNESCO World Hertitage part of Georgetown and environs, the buildings are cute, old and decidedly low-rise…..albeit somewhat decaying.


Our visit was during the month-long Geaorgetown Festival and days before the 60th anniversary of Malaysia’s independence. The arts scene is alive and well in this thriving multicultural island one of two bridges off the mainland…..and the street food is legendary! There were movies, docos, exhibitions, for the most part free, or at minimal cost, and every night or two individual street festivals.


The two of these we managed were the ‘Love Lane Music Fest’ and the Street Food Festival 2017….Both of these were superbly organised, well managed and supported, and great fun! The music was all provided by local bands…… everything from Motörhead to Led Zeppelin and Kris Kristofferson. Free entry, street closed to traffic, all the bars filling the lane with seating, tables and service. It was a fantastic evening! The food was incredible….local, fresh and delicious….the only trouble was not having enough tummy-space to try it all!!

Penang’s street art is also world-renowned. I’d seen pictures of ‘Children on a bike’ at different times but only recently found out the origin of this compelling art-work.  This and the others are reason enough to visit Penang!


We stayed in a variety of accommodation (not the regal Eastern and Orient unfortunately)…..from nice but no window (which had me out in the morning while still dark to escape its cell-like quality), to really cute 2-floor luxury (for me), to the really kind of basic room that is usually my approach…..


My early morning wandering brought me to one of the few breakfast diners that were open, where it was lovely to discover that coffee here is made in the same style as that in Vietnam….thick and black loaded with condensed milk, delicious! Two older women arrived and sat nearby, very smiling and friendly…..nice. With the lightening of the sky comes the traffic…..The antics of two crows kept me seated, fascinated, long after my food….one scrounging while the other kept watch!

Any visit to Penang isn’t complete without a visit to Penang Hill, apparently, so we made a point, one day of making the effort…..unfortunately we made the effort too late, on the wrong day! Public holiday and way not early enough! There were hell-queues for everything from buying tickets (and that was in the fast lane), to finally getting onto the train, which is actually a cable-car. Great view though and a nice lunch, at the top!

LAOS

Luang Prabang

Up at 5.30am, rested and rejuvenated after the rigours of yesterday’s bike-ride…..such is the restorative nature of sleep, thank god!!!

Six hour bus trip….. not the terror trip of the Vang Vieng variety, but with it’s own decidedly alarming moments! Mountain villages perched on 1200 metre precipices, bus swerving to avoid toddlers, cows, motorbikes, ducks…. Some houses little more than dilapidated hovels, while some orderly, well-built, with nice gardens….all virtually on the road though, very dusty and/or muddy. Marigolds, cosmos, Queen Annes Lace, zinnias……lots of corn drying on sheets.

Luang Prabang is the cutest town….quaint and very French Provincial. Being over 500 metres above sea level, and lying at the confluence of the two rivers, the Mekong and the Nam Khan, it’s ringed by mountains and bush, and is the former Royal capital, and still the main Laotian centre of Buddhist learning.

Found a cheap room. Raining, but no worries….Had dinner beside the Mekong!
The next day we had a visit to the museum/former palace…..amazing formal reception rooms, all gilded, mosaic and red, but quite stark apart from that. The night markets, on the other hand, were incredible! All gorgeous hand-crafted articles, quiet, friendly and sedate, none of the noise and clamour that is the norm for the majority of SE Asian markets. Ran into one of our Japanese friends….he was about to embark on another horror bus trip, eekk! I’ve decided I’m over buses, we’re flying to Hanoi!!!!

Mornings in Luang Prabang see the procession of saffron-robed monks as they collect alms from the faithful. This can be both compelling and extremely photo-worthy on the one hand, and annoyingly scam-like, on the other! We, in our innocence, had baskets of food hoisted upon us by two woman, to hand out to the monks, only to have unreasonable fiscal demands follow in an alarmingly aggressive fashion! The whole experience left me feeling jaded and disappointed, with more than a little bitter taste….

Still, there is always the Mekong, and finally I managed to get on that magnificent river! Made the journey to the Pak Ou Caves, and being on the river was every bit as enjoyable as I had imagined. We stopped at one or two villages along the way, selling silk and snake-liquor, and in a flash of insight, I envisaged how the Mekong has sustained life along its banks for centuries……

While in town, we overlapped with a couple of festival-like days. One was merely a day of cheap Chinese crap for sale throughout the streets for no apparent reason, and people out-and-about, while the other was obviously a big-deal boat race day with the entire population lining the banks of the Nam Khan. Cy(?), the waiter from a cafe we frequented, offered to be our host for the day, and a very chivalrous host he proved to be…..An enjoyable day, all-in-all, which we celebrated with a beer after the proceedings….

Came across a couple of wonderful little bookshops in our wanderings, both run by foreigners…..conjured up images of taking up residence in a place such as this….Our last day in Luang Prabang was spent lazily with Irving Welch wallowing in one of his vastly-readable tomes, and in the evening, a wistful walk through the night markets….
Such a quiet and gentle people….is the tourist $$ such a good thing for these people, or just the slippery slope to Western dependance…..?

mekong

India…

JODHPUR
My train trip from Jaisalmer was a delight. 

After a very early start and the slightly-panicked realisation that the promised ride to the station perhaps wasnt going to happen, but then with persistent knocking and calling-out at the locked door of the hotel, a guest let me in and I was able to rouse my driver….The arrival at the station met with some consternation also, but eventually I boarded the train, found my bunk, and settled in for the journey. 

My companions were a family of Indians with a mother, her baby and three children, and her parents. The 3-tiered bunk arrangement was ingenious, with the two top bunks flat against the wall until configured, these on one side of the aisle, whilst on the other the single bunks were parallel to the aisle with luggage racks above….all of this doorless. The train was packed, as I had imagined it would be, having long been fascinated with images of rail travel on the sub-continent.

Despite the noise, I was able to doze quite comfortably on the 6 or so hour journey, and, when wakeful, watched the landscape gradually change from desert to scubby farm-land to urban, and had small communications with the family. I was somewhat concerned that I would miss my stop, but my companions were only too happy to ensure that didnt happen.
Before I embarked on this trip, I had been googling images of train travel in India, and one had come up of the Victoria Terminus in Mumbai. This amazing picture had stayed with me…the trains stationary while there is a blurred sea of people in every space around them…I thought to myself then that if I could cope with that, then I would cope adequately on my upcoming adventure! 

Im rather impressed that I found myself in that very scene, and managed superbly!
Well, the station at Jodhpur was not like VT, but when I stepped off the train I was immediately swamped by auto-rickshaw drivers wanting my trade. Having already experienced similar occurences, I wasnt overcome, and chose one of the men…once someone has the job then the others drop off quickly Im happy to report! My driver took hold of one my bags, I hoisted my pack on my back, and off we went at a brisk pace. There was a rather high flight of stairs to climb to cross the fly-over to the street where our vehicle was parked, and half-way up the stairs I tripped and went down, landing heavily on the edge of a step on the outside of my wrist. 

My first thought when I looked to the source of such pain was “thats broken”. After the driver having helped me up and we’re walking once more, the main thought in my head was “it CANT be broken, Im in INDIA!!!!” The driver wished to take me to a hospital but being in denial, I just wanted to get to my hotel, and after a couple of wrong-way detours, we arrived at my home for the night. The boys ( I say ‘boys’, not in any way a derogatory term, but because my overall impression of Indians is that they are very young-looking!) in charge, were very concerned for me, and their repeated insistence that they take me to a hospital finally convinced me. 

My ‘taxi’ awaited….except that it was a motorbike, to my horror! Anyway, off we went, unhelmeted, me perched on the back holding on with one hand, dodging cows, people, buses and the associated mad traffic one finds in any large Indian city! At this stage, of course, I would’ve been well in shock, but I do remember praying that we didnt come off as I really could not have sustained any more injuries!!

Eventually we arrived at our destination…the large emergency department of a government hospital. I followed my host as he spoke to various officials, and we were ushered at last into a large open room filled with dozens of people, both injured and not. I was horrified as I looked around at the injured ones lying on battered old stretchers waiting for attention, no curtains or privacy, and the layer of dirt that appeared to cover all the surfaces….being used to seeing the sterile hospitals of home…. There was a long trestle-like table just inside the door where a bank of perhaps 7-8 doctors sat, dealing with multiple people at once. After a short discussion, I was led off once again, this time into the bowels of the hospital, where it got no cleaner, and a couple of pidgeons had even taken up residence….My confidence was not growing! 

The x-ray department was pretty scary as well, and very rudimentary, from my Western perspective. My host(and to my shame, to this day I dont remember his name, so will call him ‘Jamahl’) said he would look after my handbag as I had x-rays taken. I passed it over to him and then was shown into a room to wait. ‘Jamahl’ then disappeared, initially causing me some worry thinking that everything of importance I had was in that bag, money, passport etc, until I decided that in my present condition, I would just have to trust that all would be well.

X-rays taken, ‘Jamahl’ back with me, we went outside to wait for the next stage. At the entrance there were seats for the overflow of humanity that was arriving unceasingly. As I watched, people in all states of injury and unwellness turned up, usually in auto-rickshaws… One young man, who was lifted out and placed gently and compassionately on a stretcher by the driver, unconcious, accompanied by a hugely pregnant very young wife, had tears welling in my eyes as I wondered whether he would ever regain conciousness…. 

Some time later I was called back inside to be told, by an extremely handsome young doctor, that my arm was indeed broken, as he held my x-ray up to the light. An associate, who stood with him, stated that he would “give me an injection for the pain”. This idea terrified me as at this stage I had no broken skin, and the prospect of having a needle going directly into my vein, in this seemingly unsterile environment, filled me with horror! I responded that “I couldnt do injections”…having never had a broken bone, I had no concept of what was to come….I was then led off into an adjoining room. My image of this room still focuses on an old beaten-up examination table covered with a dirty tattered old sheet, which the beautiful-one picked up, shook, and re-laid, and then invited me to clamber up, and sit on. Then several other men appeared…one held my arm above the elbow and another my hand, and the rest, 6 or 7, just clustered around. The beautiful-one then proceeded to manipulate my broken bits(this is called a ‘reduction’, I came to learn), and then plaster my arm. I have no recollection of whether I screamed, but I remember writhing in the most intense pain I’ve ever experienced. I must have been very close to passing out, and in fact was probably willing myself to do just that. Once my arm was plastered, the little crowd disappeared and I was left to myself. Reeling with pain still, I managed to move into a position to lie down, and lay thinking there was NO way in the world that I would be able to get back on that motorbike…

After some time, ‘Jamahl’ appeared and said “we must go”. I followed him to see the beautiful-one, who told me that they “would not be charging me any money, this is a government hospital, it would not be the case in a private hospital”. I felt overcome with gratitude at this point, and feeling that a mere ‘thank-you’ was completely inadequate, ‘Jamahl’ led me out. 

Still thinking that “I cannot get back on that bike”, I re-mounted the bike and off we rode through the chaos of the streets back to the hotel.
Once back, ‘Jamahl’ passed over medications and x-rays, with instructons on how to take the tablets, and left me to the privacy of my ground-floor room. After a time of bringing myself to my present state of affairs, I realised I hadnt eaten since the train-ride many hours previously, and suddenly felt ravenous. The dining room, as I’d found is usually the case in Rajasthan hotels, was on the roof, in this case, 3 storeys up. When I’d tripped, I’d also landed on my right knee, so by this stage, this was also proving to be very painful. I hobbled my way to the top of the stairs and made myself comfortable, feeling very sorry for myself I might add! 

I had a delicious dinner slightly marred by the fact that I couldnt use my right hand, which became, over the next few days, a major source of discomfort. From my vantage point I had a splendid view of the fabulous Mehrangarh Fort, which, unfortunately, is as close as I got to seeing anything of the ‘Blue city’, apart from the pillion-passenger motorbike aspect…

Although I didnt actually see anything of Jodhpur itself, I have to say that my stay at the ‘Jodhpur Heritage Haveli’ was a high-point. The family who run this hotel were warm and genuinely concerned for my comfort and well-being, and the hotel provided fabulous food, and clean and comfortable facilities. If I have the good fortune to return to this city, and I certainly hope to, I will return to this pleasant oasis of calm.

JODHPUR AIRPORT
After my untimely fall at the railway station and subsequent experience, I tried to delay my flight to Delhi which was scheduled for the day after, but was unable to, so, arm encased in plaster, and feeling quite exposed and vulnerable, I arrived at the airport at the appointed time. 

My incapacity being so new, it was difficult even managing to heft my bags into the terminal, but once inside, felt better knowing that I would soon be able to relax on the upcoming flight. The terminal was teeming with people, something I’ve been known to enjoy, but in my present state, felt unnerving and stressful. I was looking forward to ditching my pack at check-in but this proved to be a non-event as there was some hold-up or another, so I found myself a seat instead, and began people-watching. 

There were several armed guards walking about keeping a watchful eye on proceedings, and one in particular caught my eye. Very straight and upright, good-looking, his beret at a jaunty angle, his uniform ironed to perfection, hand on automatic weapon slung over his shoulder, he looked both movie star and menacing, and I couldnt keep my eyes off him! This amusment lasted until he noticed me staring a couple of times, so I thought it prudent to drag my vision elsewhere….
The terminal, in the mean-time, had been gradually filling with more and more people, and it appeared there were no planes taking off at the moment, which turned out to be the case because of fog, I assumed. Northern India had been experiencing a ‘cold-snap’, and fog had been interfering with all modes of travel over the last few days, and now the fog had arrived in Jodhpur! It was turning into more than a slight delay…. The annoyance of still having my pack to haul around was becoming more of a problem with the terminal getting to standing-room only capacity, so I made my way to a spot that became vacant next to a wall in attempt to be less of an obstacle. One of my many observations of this day was that people generally move a lot even if going nowhere! The room was in a constant state of flux, no-one was actually leaving but there was perpetual motion….India immortilised in one room! 

Another observation was that of a pair of European women travellers railling against the inadequacies of Indian air travel….I wondered at the wisdom of their choice to come to India at all if they weren’t prepared to step out of the comfort of their precise schedules of home…..

Ive flown on many of the worlds’ air-lines and would be prepared to opt for Air India certainly not as a last choice!

The wait turned into one of four or so hours, so when I finally boarded the plane, the feeling was certainly one of relief. It was sad to be leaving Jodhpur without seeing any of its monuments or enticements, but sometimes we just have to take from a place any experiences, or perhaps lessons, that we can glean while there. 

 

DELHI
Arriving at Delhi air-port was a somewhat surreal experience, there being a decided lack of people about, at least in the ‘arrivals’ department, it made me feel uneasy about why it was like this….bomb scare maybe? Eventually I understood it was simply that once you walk out the doors you cant come back in…I had been told this, but still the unearthly quiet had thrown me. 

I had been given intructions on how to go about organising a taxi, but my companion en route had been met by someone she knew, who she was attempting to get to include me in a drop-off plan. It was all a bit convoluted, and obviously miles out of their way, so I insisted that I would find my own way to the place I had booked. 

It wasnt difficult to sort the cab, but this new feeling that had overtaken me in Jodhpur, this vulnerability, made the ordeal somewhat unsettling. On the way to my lodgings, I attempted to put myself back in the place of excited, intrepid traveller, but a definate gloom had come on me and the fact that the weather was also cold and dismal did nothing to dispel my mood.

Having been part of the AirBnB network up until recently (as a host), I had booked 3 nights with AirBnB in a suburb that turned out to be a long way from the airport, and also from the main part of the city. The house itself was very nice, and the hosts lovely, but I think better for a couple, mainly because of its isolation. I stayed 2 nights here in the end as it didnt feel conducive to getting out and about by myself, this being what I like to do, and there were really no eateries or really anything nearby. I did venture into the city one day, and caught the train back. This was all very well until I couldnt find my way back to the house, and found myself almost in tears in my newly-morphed state! 
The area around Connaught Place where multiple roads converge on a central park is heaving and bustling, and certainly not for the faint-hearted! Everyone has something to sell, even if they dont! Everyone is on the make, which I decided is fair enough….this is a country of 1.2 billion citizens, all trying to make a living, they HAVE to be on the make! But sometimes it CAN become overwhelming. This is how this day was for me, and even though I did allow myself to get conned into going to some ‘government’ shopping emporium, the pressure applied to have me buy a less than perfect aquamarine for an exorbitant amount of money, pushed me to my limits of endurance! And then back in the shop zone, the throng of people, the touts, the sheer NOISE of it all….the newly-vulnerable me couldnt cope so scuttled off to the Metro to board a train and escape back to the relative quiet of the suburbs!
The Delhi Metro is a superb mode of travel…fast, clean, cheap….but also no doubt because of these reasons, everybody uses it! I boarded along with the hoards, and at every stop was astounded that more people just kept squeezing on. At one stage I seemed to have my face centimeters from the glass of the sliding door, and thought there was no possible way that another single person would fit, then the train would stop, a crowd would disembark, another crowd would board, there would be a general readjustment, and on we would go….I even at one stage managed to get a seat! A fantastic experience!
After 2 nights at the AirBnB house, I decided to move to a hotel closer to the action of the city, so booked into the Godwin Hotel, chosen purely because it was the surname of a good friend of mine (no relation, of course!), and for the fact they did one-way complimentary airport transfers. My host at the house didnt recommend the hotel saying that it wasnt in a ‘good’ part of town, but it had appeared to be fine online so I carried on with my plan.
The area of the city did indeed seem somewhat seedy, but the hotel was clean, warm and comfortable, even quite plush, in my view, with pleasant and friendly staff, and I was happy to be somewhere with a bit more activity and clamour happening around me. This room became my ‘bubble’ of warmth and safety, and it was lovely! I spent most of the next 24hours in this bubble, apart from the odd foray into the mean streets, but with my right hand disabled, this spoilt one of my major enjoyments…eating out! This, of course, because one does not use ones left hand for eating in India.

The main drawback to this self-imposed confinement was the presence of the TV! Having nothing to do and all day to do it in, I found that really the only English-speaking programs were news channels….and after 2 days of watching the dreadful goings-on in the world (incuding a second Asian plane disaster), coupled with my new feelings of vulnerability,this made for almost overwhelming never-before felt, travel fear!! And I had yet to board another Malaysian Air flightcraft to get me to Brisbane!

My nervousness at the airport pre-flight, was quite beyond the realms of anything Ive ever felt before, with even strict inner-dialogue scarcely able to calm.I wish to never experience such panic again! 

Mercifully, once on the plane and seated, however, serenity prevailed!