How Do You Say Food in Spanish?

The menu at Tapas 24
After we couldn't stand and stare any longer, we went for lunch at Tapas 24, a restaurant by Ferran Adria of El Bulli fame (foodies will understand the significance of this--El Bulli had a 6 year waiting list until it closed this year). It was great. We got:

-Bravas (spicy fried potatoes) & guacamole (really need to remember they don't make it with avocado in Spain):

- Tandoori lamb kebabs - Foie gras burger:

- Miso-glazed peppers...
which when we ordered them seemed like a good idea, until a row of chili peppers appeared before us and we just looked at each other like "what have we done!? How the hell are we going to eat TWELVE chili peppers!" Luckily, when I took the plunge, I was pleasantly surprised at the lack of heat. Chili peppers, they were not. Impostors. But I'm not complaining--the food was delicious.

In true spanish style, I had a little siesta then shopped a bit (but decided to wait til London to buy anything, so I don't have to carry it). In the evening, the hunt for Paella was in full force. Since Mr. Zimbabwe was leaving the next day, it was my last chance to try the traditional dish (they only make it for a minimum of two people so you can't order it on your own). It is really difficult to find good paella that isn't touristy in the part of barcelona I stayed in: traditionally, paella is brown, because of the squid ink used to cook the rice (stay with me here). But restaurants will substitute saffron instead, making it yellow. That, according to our tour guide, is not real paella. But it doesn't make sense why they would do that--isn't saffron the most expensive spice in the world?

Anyways. We walked around for a bit then went for dinner at (I forget the name, dammit! It started with a C. Not important). A compromise because the tapas sounded really good, but they also made (brown) paella. We had:

- Goat cheese and honey brioche - Something with eel--found out the hard way that it is NOT the sweet, barbecued sushi variety, but a tangle of gray, slimy, tentacles. Yum. -Tuna tataki (seared tuna)

- Foie gras (again, can you tell I really like this dish?) I also discovered cava sangria (made with champagne instead of red wine) which takes things to a whole other level.
Last but not least, chicken and pork paella!
All in all, a great meal (although it still doesn't compare to Seville--I don't think I'm ever going to find tapas that will beat it, for the quality and price combined).

Tasty Tapas

Sept 8: I woke up in some serious pain this morning, so I staggered down the street to McDonald's (seriously where else do people eat after going out? It's the only logical choice) to rehash the night with some friends from the night before. I met up with Mr. Zimbabwe (I really wanted to call him Cady (Lindsay Lohan's character in Mean Girls, who also grew up in Africa) but I don't think he would find it as funny as I did so I refrained) in the afternoon, and we wandered over to Plaza De Espana and the cathedral (the biggest Gothic Cathedral in the world), although it was so hot we weren't too enthusiastic about anything. The Plaza was really beautiful--it reminded me a lot of the palace in Vienna, except red. One thing I will never get sick of is all the palm trees. Canada, get with the program! You have everything else, heat included. Rule No. 76: No excuses! Play like a champion! I also made my way over to the train station to book my trip to Alicante for the next day.

One problem (among many) with a Eurail pass: - You need reservations for a lot of the trains, which requires you to plan further ahead than you'd maybe like. - Reservations cost extra (on top of the 393 Euros I paid for the pass) - You can't book them online, as there's no aggregated system for the different rail lines Eurail is valid for. Result: Spanglish disaster.

Anyone who says the French are snobbiest when it comes to people not speaking their language have clearly never been to Spain. Coincidentally, I never realized how little Spanish I knew until I arrived. The problem is that unlike every other country I've been to so far, Spanish people don't speak English, and refuse to make things easy for you. There is no slow, simple sentences reserved for foreigners. If you don't speak like they do, tough luck. Now try to imagine explaining the parameters of the Eurail pass you'd like to buy, and that was my afternoon. I start with the customary "Ola! Como estas?" So far so good. I smile apologetically and continue with "No habla Espanol." The ticket cashier stares at me and replies, straight-faced, "No habla Ingles." Okay then. This should be fun. I wanted to book a train to Alicante, which required a change at a certain station. I feel like a senior citizen when I'm booking these tickets, because I'll hear the entire sentence, yet comprehend every seventh word, so it's like putting madlibs together: Train ____ _____ _____ ______ Alicante _____ _____ ____ __ ________ change _____ _____ _____ No ____ _____ _____ Reserva.

Okay. Let me get this straight. You can book me a train to Alicante, but I have to change and you can't reserve me a seat? Good to see my Eurail pass is just teeming with value--I've already spent at least 50 Euros on reservations, on top of the 393 I already paid for the pass. So ridiculous.

That evening, Zimbabwe and I decide to meet up and try some local tapas--our hostel was doing a tapas tour, but after our experience with Raphael we decided we'd try to find better value for our money elsewhere. We settled on a little place called La Mata, which was empty but looked nice inside, and boy am I glad we did.

Easily the best meal I've had my entire trip--I'm so mad I didn't bring my camera with me! For anyone who doesn't know (hopefully none of you), tapas is like little plates of food in really interesting combinations of flavours, designed for sharing. It's really cheap, and really good. It's like building your own tasting menu (which normally costs a fortune).We tried: - Chicken tulips - Mussel tempura - Salmon tartare - Iberian pork shoulder with orange chocolate sauce - Grilled prawns with taboulet (couscous) - Grilled fois gras medallion with caramel sauce - Gin and tonic sorbet - Spanish wine Guess how much that all cost us? A whopping 35 euros. Each of those plates was so expertly put together that it would have easily cost 30 PER PLATE at home in a city like Toronto. The flavor profiles were just incredible. I was so impressed. If that's what the food is like in Spain, I'm never leaving.

After that, I headed back to the hostel to pack because my train left at 7:15 the next morning. Not that my attempt at an early night mattered one bit, as I was staying in a room with 6 other French girls who had no respect for the other six people who were also there. (It seems logical that if the lights are off and it's after midnight, you try to be quiet when entering your room. Mais NON!--lights were flicked on, drunken shouting ensued, as if the rest of us weren't even there. Mind-boggling. I wanted to throw a bottle at their head but I didn't. No pending assault charges, unless the cops can read my mind.) It's been a good time in Seville, but I can't wait to see what Alicante is like!

I'm really glad I went down to Seville, because I'm going to get a taste of three very different Spanish cities. Seville is typical Andalucia; Alicante is a coastal university town, and Barcelona is Barcelona.

So today, I get to Ciudad Real, the city I have to change trains in, and check at the information desk. Through my Spanglish I discover the clerk in Seville did not book me a reservation all the way through, but only to Ciudad Real. Real helpful, buddy. Good thing I checked, or I would've been ticketless on this train--the last thing I need is to be forcibly removed and dumped in a city in the middle of nowhere. Crisis avoided, though, and am on my way to Alicante.

Pub Crawls and Spanglish

Monument to Christopher Columbus Sept 7: get up, take advantage of the free breakfast, head to walking tour organized by the hostel at 11:15. Tour takes about 3 hours; we are dying of heat by the end of it--Seville is HOT if you didn't know. The thermometer read 43 degrees--at 9 am. Tour was interesting, learned a lot of history of the town, but our guide kept telling us how hungover he was and looking at his notes, so he only got 5 Euros from me at the end. Was about 3:30 by the time we got back, so I just walked around town for a bit by the hostel.

Now, in Spain, for a Canadian like me, ordering food is a process; it's a bit like putting a blindfold on and pointing at the menu, since I have no idea what anything means. Every meal is a surprise! Good thing I'm into this whole food adventure, otherwise I could be in for quite a shock (I hear they eat sheep's brains here, no joke--note to self: I should probably learn what that is in Spanish). I tend to just point at whatever I want to have, since I don't know the sentences required for simple tasks like ordering food or buying train tickets. Anyway, I am on the hunt for salad at all times after being deprived of vegetables for two months in Asia, so I stop at a cafe on my way back from the tour. Just my luck, Spain is not big on salad. But they do have Pinchos. Whatever that is. I take a gamble and order one. They sound like a baguette sandwich from what I can decipher. I'm ravenous at this point--I can't wait to tuck into a hearty lunch. It arrives, and it turns out a Pincho is a SLICE of baguette toast with cheese and one lonely anchovy. That's it. (And no salad in sight). I guess that's why it was only 2 euros on the menu...

I took advantage of the meal at the hostel, which was a plate of Mexican food and sangria for 4 euros--not bad! Our hostel was running a pub crawl for 10 Euros and you got four shots included. It sounded like a good deal and lots of people were going, so I decided to do it. Besides, I hadn't been on a pub crawl yet so I thought it would be a good way to meet people. I was right; I met some Australians, a couple of German girls, a Seattle native living in Prague, and a big group from Belgium. Seattle and I decided to teach everyone how to play flip cup, and so began our pub crawl evening. How can you not play flip cup in Spain? You start by singing Ole, Ole Ole Ole for goodness' sake!

The guy leading the pub crawl is the tour guide from this morning...Raphael--and get this--he's a sculptor. I'm not making this up. He put his best Spanish moves on me but I wasn't buying it. ("I'm an artist...maybe I'll show you my work sometime.." I saw Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Raphael. I know exactly what you're up to.)

We headed out at about 11:30 and the crawl was average at best. The first place we went to was empty except for our group; the second place had litre mojitos for 5 Euros, so we ordered, but they took about half an hour to make them and they were the grossest thing I've ever tasted. As a bartender I was offended someone would serve that! (He didn't even muddle the mint leaves...in a MOJITO!) At the next bar I realized, to my dismay, they hadn't given me the proper change at the last place, so to add insult to injury, not only did I have a litre of sugar water, but it cost me about 40 Euros. Not good. The last place we went to, we were told, was a dance club. We get there, and it's a reggae club. People are smoking everywhere inside, and it's just generally sketchy. We decide to peace and walk home. I met an Australian who grew up in Zimbabwe and was full of great stories, so at least the night ended on a good note--until I looked at the clock and realized it was 6:30 am. We literally saw people opening their cafes for breakfast on our way back to the hostel.

Me at the Plaza de Espana

Canada Dry, Never Die

Total hours in Cairo so far: 17Number of marriage proposals: 28 Number of gifts: 3 Number of gifts possibly hiding concealed narcotics: 2

Sept 2/3 I arrived in Cairo at night, after my plane was delayed in Doha. I dodged a proposal from the airport clerk (in exchange for a free visa, tough call...) collected my bag, and met my friend Sarah and her boyfriend Bilal, who were picking me up. I've known Sarah since I was little, even though she's from Germany, as she also works with the same charity in India, so we kind of grew up together. She even came and stayed with my family in Canada a few years ago!

They took me to this fish restaurant on the Nile (literally on a boat in the river, so cool! There's a ton of places like it along the river) where we selected our seafood like you would in a marketplace, then the chef weighs and makes it. Had amazing spreads and dips with bread, soup, salad, shrimp, calamari, and the fish. So much food! It was a feast. But a delicious one. I don't think many dishes can top freshly caught seafood. Move over, Red Lobster (except your biscuits, they can stay).

The next morning, Sarah had to go into her school (she teaches at the German International school in Cairo--the public system in Egypt is so bad that they have private International schools everywhere, so anyone who can afford it gets sent there), so Bilal took me to get falafel for breakfast, which was amazing. I can't believe I thought I wouldn't like it! And handy, too; it comes in a sort of pita so you can grab it and go. McDonald's, girl please.

After making sure I had enough water to last, he dropped me at the pyramids. I cannot stress this enough: if you have a student card, bring it! Everywhere! (The only catch is that because I have no date on my student card (unlike an ISIC card, which you have to pay for), certain sticklers at ticket windows won't accept it. But I've gotten away with it more times than not, so it's worth a shot for sure.) You never know where you can get a discount, and it never hurts to ask. Case in point: Entrance to the pyramids: 100 pounds. With student card: 30. Boom.

Alright. Going to the pyramids is exhausting. Luckily, I had just come from India, so I was prepared for the touts hounding you every step of the way. It's the blonde hair! I can't hide--they spot me from a mile away! Egyptians will come up and ask to take a photo with you, so I was back in celeb mode all over again. That much I was at least used to from my time in India. But Egyptians take it up a notch. When I take off my sunglasses and they see blue eyes, I'm really in for it. That's when the gifts start coming. I now have in my possession: a mock Sphinx, a model of the pyramids (to scale), and a papyrus painting. Not a bad haul.

Bilal warned me they can be quite pushy, so I was ready for anything. Instantly, someone came up to me and assured me they worked there, so it was fine. I repeated my standard "La shukran", or "No Thank You", but they're persistent. I make it clear that I'm not paying them for whatever they're offering, but they continue anyways. I figure that's my disclaimer; if I tell them I won't pay and they choose to give me info about the history, or take pictures for me, that's their problem for not listening. You have to stick to your guns and be ruthless, though! It's funny seeing the system they have--at the end, I start walking away, and they say "hey! what about a tip? I told you so much stuff, took photos, etc." Then they try to suggest what the "Standard" tip is--20-50 pounds..such a joke. Trying to guilt trip me into giving them money! I stand my ground and shrug, "Sorry! I told you I wouldn't pay for this and you kept going anyway! Not my problem." They get mad, but I think they're more angry that their little scam didn't work on the hapless little blonde girl. Ha! Don't mess with this seasoned traveler.

The rules in the pyramids are inconsistent at best. To go inside the big pyramid, no cameras are allowed--yet I saw at least 5 others with cameras once I was in the tomb. In another area, however, the guard let me walk right by the sign that said no cameras, because I was Canadian. No joke. They all ask where I'm from, and every time I tell them, they go "Canada Dry! Never die!" What?! such a random thing to say!

An FYI: the pyramids are HOT inside. The corridors were built for midgets at best, or I guess the average height of Egyptians back then, but it means you have to walk up crazy narrow ramps, bent in half. There's little to no airflow. It's cool to say you've been inside, but it's really not that exciting. What's a little sweat if you get to wear the police officer's hat at the end?

The tombs surrounding the pyramids were way more interesting--you can see a ton of hieroglyphs. In true tourist fashion, I decided to take a camel ride into the desert to get a good view of the pyramids (and photos, because let's be real, that's half the reason anyone goes out there). I haggled my way down from 130 to 60 pounds, and refused my camel owner's attempt to extract more as a tip from me. A price is a price, bud! Really touristy thing to do, but I'm so glad I ponied up the cash (pun intended, ahaha).

I saw the sphinx after that, which was really awesome. It's smaller than I thought it would be, but the setup is neat--because it's sort of dug out of the ground, there's no fence or anything, just the edge, so you can take great photos. Minimizes the touristy feeling a bit, which is more than can be said for the pyramids themselves.

Another guide, Mohamed, came up to me and offered to take some photos. I did my usual speech about not paying, but for once, he actually didn't want money. He offered to show me some of the less busy tombs behind the sphinx that tourists don't really know about, so next thing I know, I'm clambering down stone steps into a dark cavern where they used to perform mummifications (the stone slabs are still there, creepy!). I did have a thought that maybe Mohamed had a more sinister reason for bringing me to a deserted tomb, but luckily all was fine and he was just a friendly tour guide. I got to see some interesting tombs, completely alone, and felt like I got to see a hidden part of Giza.

Last, Bilal met up with me and we saw the boat museum. Basically, in the 1920s, archaeologists discovered these massive boats buried beneath the surface right beside the pyramids. Turns out, these were the boats used to transport the stones used to build the pyramids up the Nile. They were buried next to the pyramids as a means of transportation for the afterlife. The museum is a funny concept--they raised the boat straight out of the ground and built a building around it so they never had to move it. And you have to wear these ridiculous slippers to prevent sand from eroding the boat (or something, they didn't exactly explain why they handed me burlap sacks for my feet).

When we got back to Sarah's, she was napping, so Bilal convinced me to do a video workout with him called Insanity. It is exactly that--40 minutes of cardio torture. Suicides, jump squats, pushups, football run thingys, mummy kicks (obv, we're in Egypt), mountain climbers, you name it, we did it. I could not move after it was over. Apparently it's a two month program with a different video everyday. I actually think I might check it out when I get home--I love that feeling of having nothing left after a workout! (My body, however, will disagree with me when trying to go down stairs for the next few days)

We went for sushi that night (my first sushi in 2 months, I cannot even tell you how excited I was for this--sushi is definitely my favorite food, I could eat it every day) and being the resident sushi expert, Sarah and Bilal let me explain a few things. Little did I know that this sushi place liked to use hot sauce instead of wasabi to spice things up. My spicy salmon, salad, and most other things were just about unbearable to eat, but it was too late to go back. Never again. I will ALWAYS ask to clarify this from now on, lesson learned.

A great first day in Cairo. Going to the Egyptian Museum tomorrow, can't wait to see some ancient treasure (and a few old folks--5000 years, give or take).

Do Something Crazy

The Last Resort: August 31
On the bridge before the big jump! Apparently my appetite for adventure wasn't satisfied by paragliding, because guess what I signed up for today? My thrill-seeking tour of Nepal took me to new heights (to the Tibetan border to be exact) for a day of canyoning (rappelling down waterfalls--7 to be exact) and...wait for it...bungee jumping.

Canyoning, and...bungee jumping. That's right. Because hurling myself off a mountain wasn't enough, I'm changing venues to a bridge. And going head-first. And it's non-refundable, so I have to jump. Good lord. James decided to do an overnight hike in the mountains, so I was on my own for this particular adventure.

Yes. This gal right here faced her fear of heights (seriously--I get dizzy if I stand on a chair in my living room) and signed up to jump off a suspension bridge in the middle of a gorge, more than 160 metres in the air, with raging waters below.

I met a med student from Norway (read: McSteamy) on the bus ride there who was also doing the jump for the first time, and we talked the whole way, which didn't give me time to get nervous about what I was about to do.

I had a full day so I wasn't sure which activity I would be doing first--the jump or the canyoning. Luckily, they gave me no time to think and called my name as the first person of the day to jump.

It wasn't so bad on the bridge itself, although it may have helped that I didn't look down once while crossing. Once I was in the middle of the bridge, getting my ankles strapped into a harness that would be my only lifeline preventing me from falling to my death in the river below, the flutters began in my stomach.

"Breathe in, breathe out, and look out at the gorgeous scenery around me," is what I kept telling myself. It's a really interesting exercise in managing your fear, because logically I know nothing can happen--this isn't going to hurt, it's safe, lots of people do it--but that doesn't stop your mind from going crazy thinking of the worst case scenarios.

Once your ankles are strapped together, you penguin-walk your way over to the jumping platform and the bungee cord is secured to your harness. The scariest part of the jump, in my opinion, is the fact that you have to jump head-first. there's no tentativeness allowed here (just my luck).
The jumping platform...see? It's not so scary til you look down. I step out onto the platform and my wall of fear-control disintegrates, and panic takes over. You know that feeling of dread when you get caught red-handed telling a lie? That's the best way for me to describe what it feels like to be on that edge, half listening to the instructions, half thinking about what you want your last words to be. I hear the instructions come to an end, and the guy counts down: "Three, two, one, JUMP!" My legs are frozen. I can't do it. I literally can't make my body perform the motion necessary to move forward.
The last thing I saw before I jumped. He cajoles me closer to the edge, and I am convinced he is trying to make me walk off the edge. "No, I don't think I can do this" I say to him. He reassures me the longer I'm up there the worse it gets...and he's totally right. I take a deep breath, I think about all the scary things that could happen, decide to listen to the part that's trusting everything will work out, and tip forwards into nothingness (a swan dive was out of the question--my legs were jelly).
Me, mid-jump...proof I actually did it! The best way I can describe it is terror combined with elation--so basically what you feel when you go down that first big hill on a roller coaster. The feeling of falling is amplified because you have this narrow canyon wall on both sides of you, and you're watching the angry rapids of the river get closer and closer until suddenly you're being yanked upwards at the last second. Floating through the air, you're so disoriented that the feeling of falling has disappeared, and you're laughing because you can't believe you just did that, and it feels great.

Then you feel the ankle straps move, and terror seizes you again in full force. LOGICALLY, I know I was strapped in tight and wasn't going anywhere. But show me someone who is thinking logically while falling at 150 km/h. I thought I was going to survive the big jump, only to have my harness come loose on the after-bounces and die in the river anyway. How anti-climactic.

I'm flexing my feet for dear life, praying i stay in long enough to be brought down to safety, and finally I'm on solid ground. I have so much adrenaline that I can't stand right away--my legs are too shaky, and I'm laughing so hard I'm crying. It really makes you crazy!

A nice guy I met on the bus (Ash from Nepal, whattup!) was kind enough to take a few photos for me, but I also bought the DVD (as proof that I really did it, because I know I probably won't even believe it in a few years). They had to mail it home to Canada since I left early the next day, but when I get it, you'd better believe you will get to witness the hilarity of a little blonde girl tipping herself off the ledge of a suspension bridge.

Luckily, I had a half-hour hike back up the canyon to get back to the lodge to come down off my adventure high--they definitely fail to mention that part in the brochure--and prepare for my next activity, canyoning (which I cannot BELIEVE I spent money on Crocs for--so disgusted with myself). I changed into my gear--wetsuit, helmet, and Crocs..ugh...and found myself hiking the same trail I had just come up from bungee jumping!
My canyoning gear...minus the heinous atrocity that are Crocs...I was afraid they'd crack my lens if photographed

Canyoning was a change of pace from the morning's adrenaline rush; we rappelled down seven waterfalls of varying heights--I think the biggest was 47 metres. It was fun, but slow since we were a group of 10 and had to wait for everyone to do it one at a time. You get soaked, no way around it, and it made for some great views. At some parts we could even watch others doing their bungee jumps.

All in all, it was a busy, exhausting, exhilarating day, and I wouldn't change it for anything.

Today was one of the best days of my life.

Chitwan National Park Safari

We arrived at Chitwan late at night, so we went right to bed in order to get up early for a full day safari. Chitwan National Park is 932 square kilometers of jungle in the south of Nepal, so we were really in the middle of nowhere. I didn't even ask if they had wifi... The next morning, we got up at 5 am to have breakfast before making the muddy trek down to the riverbank. We got in wooden canoes that were hollowed out tree trunks (and very wobbly--I don't even want to know what was lurking in the water had I fallen in) and set off downstream for some wildlife sighting.
The canoe we used for the morning safari

We saw some kingfishers, herons, peacocks, and then something moved to my left. Something BIG. I look over (we had to be silent or else we'd scare the wildlife away) and there is a MASSIVE crocodile lying on the riverbank, maybe 10 feet away from the canoe. Had to be at least twenty feet long. You know that feeling of terror you get when you watch scary movies? (No? Just me? alrighty then) Well. I held my breath until we had passed the danger zone...those things are notorious for being deadly still until they strike, and then you have no chance. Seeing as it could've easily bit the canoe in half, I am very glad it prioritized suntanning over eating small Canadians.
<Croczilla on the riverbank

After that hair-raising experience, we stopped by the elephant breeding centre in the park. It was kind of a let-down, as there wasn't much explanation given, and the elephants were all chained to posts in a row. Not sure what they're trying to accomplish here, but happy elephants is certainly not the priority.
I did get some cool photos of the elephants, though...

My elephant bathing experience On our way home, we stopped by another part of the river and took an elephant bath. Now. For those of you unfamiliar with this term, it quite literally means you sit on the elephant's back, and an elephant bathes you, by drawing water into his trunk and then soaking you. Or spontaneously dunking underwater and you hang on for dear life. Great fun, although I don't want to think about what was in the water I was being sprayed with...
Getting dunked by my elephant.

We had some down-time for lunch before we headed back into the jungle that afternoon for an elephant safari. They set four of us on each elephant--let me tell you, boarding one of these things is not like getting on a plane. There is some serious maneuvering involved. Once it started walking, we quickly realized this would not be a tranquil activity. The lurching is so bad I had bruises on my arms from hitting the bars holding us in. Not sure what the maharajas were thinking when they decided to use pachyderms as their preferred method of transport...
My attempt to board the plane...

Once you get over the motion of the ocean, so to speak, it's actually a really cool experience, because the elephants can just walk right through dense jungle that would take ages to cover on foot. we were really in the thick of it, but had been walking for a while, and there was no guarantee we'd see anything on this trip--the park ranger said the last time he saw a tiger was in February, and he lives here.

All of a sudden, there was movement in the bushes. We amble over and come face to face with the rare one-horned rhino, a mother and her baby. It was amazing--we came so close I had to lift my legs out of the way for them to walk by. Luckily, Ace Ventura did not make any appearances, so I'm 99% sure they were real rhinos. That made the entire trip worth it, and it's completely different seeing one of those in the wild versus at the zoo; it was such a spontaneous moment, we had no idea it was going to happen. No tiger sightings, but considering there's only eight of them in the whole park, I didn't get my hopes up anyway. Seeing the rhinoceros that close was enough for me.

A close encounter with a one-horned rhino We capped the evening off by watching the sun set over the river, thinking about how lucky we were to have seen what we saw today.

Paragliding in Pokhara

See that dirt behind me? That's the runway. Pokhara - Aug 29

I definitely did not realize when I signed up for paragliding that in order to paraglide, one must run at full-speed off the side of a mountain. Or that the only thing keeping you from falling to your death are nylon strings about two millimeters in diameter. What seemed like a leisurely activity in the guidebook suddenly seemed more like a death wish. But I came to Nepal to try stuff like this, so I'd be damned if I chickened out.
Me and my pilot, mid-flight

So, that led me to the top of a mountain with a very steep incline and a lot of wind. Nevertheless, when my pilot said to start running, I ran. Miraculously, it worked, and we were airborne. We drifted over the valley and through the mountains for about half an hour, catching thermals and enjoying the bird's eye view--literally. It was a ton of fun; kind of relaxing actually! Once I realized I wasn't going to crash, that is. I think I would've felt a little differently if I had been the one steering.

For those of you too scared to try it, here's what you can see from up there

In the afternoon, I had signed up for a pony trek, which I thought would be a great way to see some mountains other than just by hiking. Turns out, a pony trek in Pokhora means a little boy brings you a horse, tells you to get on, then leads you--on foot--down the main road by the lake. No mountains. No trekking. Why didn't he have his own horse? I could've walked faster than the pace we went. Maybe it'd be fine for someone who's never ridden before, but I was excited to get into the mountains! Definitely didn't happen. Oh, and my horse was also the laziest creature I have ever seen. He was incapable of galloping, so it was either walk at the pace of a snail, or trot, which as some of you know, is not the most comfortable thing in the world, even if you know how to ride. Now picture three hours of trotting. Needless to say, my bum was in rough shape the next day (get your minds out of the gutter).

We were on a tight schedule so we packed up the car right after and made the drive to Chitwan National Park (no guerillas this time, LUCKILY.)

So, overall, the verdict: Paragliding? Thumbs up. Definitely worth it. Pony trekking? I want my 50 bucks back. Pokhora was gorgeous and I wish we had more time there.

The Taj in 24 Hours

Travel day: Jodhpur to Agra. We took a 12 HR train ride today so we could get to Agra at night, stay over, and be up to see the Taj at sunrise the next day. We literally sat there for the entire day, so not much to write about. When we got out of the train station, many drivers came up asking if we needed a ride (as usual) and one guy was particularly friendly, so James agreed to go with him. I try to stay out of these decisions since I think it'd compromise james' ability to bargain down the price. We asked how much, and the driver said "no problem. I take you first, then you pay as you like." Big mistake. He was super friendly, and told us about all these hotels he knew for a good price, but we knew they do this and have commission deals with the places they mention, so we told him had a reservation at the first place on our list and went there to check out a room. India 101: never book ahead until you've seen a room. There are no assumptions here, including standards of cleanliness.

Turns out the place we wanted was full, and we didn't really know many other places, so we agreed to go look at this place the driver suggested. James went inside to look, and I stayed in the car with the luggage and driver. It was fine for a while, but James was gone for a long time and the driver started getting creepy, telling me about his workout plan and flexing his muscles. Thankfully, James came back shortly after to say the room was fine-we were only here for one night- and I took my bags inside. The driver had been trying to convince us to hire him for the day tomorrow to take us to all the major sights, but we knew his price was obscenely expensive so I let James decline for the both of us. I headed inside at a good moment apparently, because the driver got extremely upset. It didn't help that James paid him 100 rupees for the ride from the station. Sorry buddy, but if you didn't quote a price ahead of time and say "as you like", sometimes you're gonna get tourists who actually know what things cost. Can't scam us, we've been in India too long!

James came inside and relayed this development to me, just as the driver walked in behind him, past the check in counter, and into the hotel restaurant, where he also works. SHIT. we spent half the night terrified our food was poisoned, and the other half waiting to hear the lock on the door turn. I definitely checked to make sure my limbs were still intact the next morning. Lesson learned: be very wary of drivers that seem too nice, because they probably are.

We woke up at 5:30 am to make it to the Taj Mahal for 6 am, when it opens for the day. 750 rupees for entrance is highway robbery, but I guess that's what a Wonder of the World costs nowadays. After dodging the annoyingly persistent guides trying to get our business, we headed to the entrance. Since this was the main attraction and the whole reason we came to Agra, we had packed snacks so we could stay for most of the day. Of course food isn't allowed, and there's no signs to indicate this. Thatd be too efficient. There were storage lockers a 5 minute walk away, and I was not about to waste perfectly good granola bars. I peeled a banana on the way over, only to come face to face with a particularly aggressive looking monkey who was staring me down. I attempted to deak him out, but he bared his teeth and growled, so i hurled said banana in the opposite direction and booked it. I arrived at the storage room only to find out it costs money. Of course. Out of principle, I refused to pay, and ate my granola bars sullenly as I made my way back to the entrance. Bureaucracy...

We finally got into the grounds and began walking when I caught my first glimpse of the domed roof sparkling in the distance. I'm rarely awestruck, but the Taj has to be up there with one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. It's so perfect, it doesn't look real. It looks cartoon-I felt like I had stepped into the world of Aladdin or something.

For those of you that don't know, the story goes something like this: after the Shah Jahan's wife Mehmtez Mahal died giving birth to their 14th child, he was heartbroken. He built the Taj Mahal as a memorial to her. It took twenty thousand workers over 33 years to build the structure. When his son grew up he overthrew the father and imprisoned him in Agra Fort across the river, where the Shah was forced to look at his creation every day until he died there.

After we exhausted our photographic options at the Taj, we got tired of the touristy atmosphere (if it was this crowded at sunrise, I shudder to think of what it must be like during peak hours), so we decided to check out the Agra Fort. My dashing good looks awarded me free admission for being 14 and under, so we wandered around there for a bit, but it wasn't very impressive, especially having seen the fort in Jodhpur and the Taj itself.

We saw signs for a golf course so we decided to check it out. How cool would it be to play 9 with the Taj in the background? Unfortunately, Indian logic proved too much for us to handle, and we decided a thousand rupees plus a mandatory caddie, and no left-handed clubs (I'm difficult, I know) was not worth it.

We pretty much exhausted our options for activities in Agra at that point--it really hasn't got much to offer other than the Taj, so I'm really glad we only spent one day there. I got some postcards and we hung out at a coffee shop, writing while it rained outside. We had dinner at Pizza Hut before catching our first overnight train to Varanasi, where we're spending the last three days before flying to Nepal.

Zip Lining Over Mehrangarh Fort

After a morning of sightseeing on a blistering hot day, we headed to lunch, and keeping my streak alive, ended up at McDonald's. After a quick dip in the pool at the hotel, James and I split up to do our own thing: he wanted to check out some gardens he read about, and I decided to do the zip line course at the fort.

I made it there just in time for the last group at 5 pm, the sunset course.After an encounter with a turtle and a practice run, I was ready to go.

There were six lines total, and it was just epic. The most amazing views of the fort as I flew through the air, high above the walls, watching the sun set on the Blue City. Fun fact: they shot scenes from the upcoming Batman movie at the Fort, so look for it when it comes out! Apparently they turned it into a vampire castle or something...spooky. It was a great way to end my time in Jodhpur, and it was one of the highlights of my trip so far. Now I can't wait for bungee jumping and white water rafting when I get to Nepal!

Jaipur: The Pink (and Boring) City

Today we headed out to see some sights in town, and find out why Jaipur is known as the Pink City. Turns out the entire old city was built using red sandstone--pretty simple explanation. You can really see it in the marketplace but that's about it. Underwhelming. We started off with Iswarat, basically a watchtower in the middle of the city. It had great views of Jaipur and our guide was particularly knowledgeable, so it was a good start.

Me and our guide at Iswarat

Then we went to the tourist trap that is City Palace--I don't think I took more than a few photos here, because aside from a textile museum, there isn't anything to see. LAME!

The coolest thing about City Palace

Next was the Hawa Mahal, which was slightly better but nowhere near the Amber Fort. After that, we hit the Bazaar in the Old City, and just walked around. Last, our driver took us to a place called Vishnu Gems because I mentioned I wanted to look at silver jewelry and he told me not to buy it in the market, cause you can't trust the quality there. I kind of went on a bit of a shopping spree, but I knew that was the main thing I wanted to buy on this trip--clothes take up too much space in my bag. And they kept feeding me chai tea, what could I do?

Tonight a girl came and gave me my first tattoo!--Henna, that is. Did you really think I would get something that visibly permanent on my arm? AS IF!

Tomorrow we're taking the train to Jodhpur. I'm sad to leave this hotel because it was so great, but excited for some, well, excitement. Blue City, bring it on.

Dirty Delhi and Train Travel

In India, two important things to know: 1) people will always try to rip you off, and 2) the hotel never looks like the pictures. We arrived at the airport in Delhi just before midnight. Our hotel was the only one we actually booked ahead of time, since we did not want to be going from place to place looking at rooms in the middle of the night. After we failed to connect with the hotel pick-up that was supposedly sent for us, we opted for a pre-paid taxi. My travels have shown me so far that these are generally more expensive than negotiating with a driver, but only if you know the proper value for the ride you're taking. We were quoted anywhere from Rs 250 to 400 for the exact same ride, so we were immediately suspicious of negotiating this when we didn't know how far away the hotel was from the airport.

We arrive at the hotel we booked and it is in a seedy area of Delhi that I would not want to be in during the day, much less at night. The room was dingy and the bathroom smelled like mothballs, but we were only there for about 6 hours--we had an early train to catch the next morning.

Train travel in India is a unique experience. I'm not sure if it was the lack of signs anywhere, the throngs of people sleeping on the platform, or the wafting aroma of excrement coming up from the tracks because, oh yeah, the train toilets are just holes in the floor of the car. So whenever people use one, it comes out on the tracks. Lovely. This attracts rats, which are scurrying everywhere. We had help buying our tickets from a man I was working with at the charity in Shantimalai, and thank goodness, because there is no such thing as a line in India, as I may have mentioned before. We had to find our coach number and then our bunks inside, which, in a rare shining moment, actually turned out to be nicer than I expected. The train station probably set my expectations so extremely low, they could only be exceeded.

My sleeper bunk on the train

6 hours later and we arrived in Jaipur, also known as the Pink City. I had read about this place called Krishna Palace on wikitravel, so we decided to give it a shot. They offered free pick-up from the train station, so we were already off to a good start. We arrive and it is quite literally an old palace that has been converted into a hotel. They showed us a room, which was pricier than the website said, but then offered us a cheaper room on the roof--it was the only one up there, so it was very quiet. Lots of stairs, but I could definitely use the exercise. I'm so happy we took it. This place turned out to be the best hotel we've stayed in. Large rooms, AC, marble everywhere, wifi that actually works in the room (most places tell you they have it, but it only works in certain areas like the lobby, which makes skype kind of awkward). The staff was friendly and helpful, arranging the rest of our train tickets and hiring a car for half a day to show us some of the sights in Jaipur.

At the Amber Fort The afternoon we arrived, we went to see the lake palace and the Amber Fort, which is on the outskirts of town.We were too late to go inside but walked up as it's on a hill and looked around. Great views of the city from here. It looked like whoever built this fort tried to also build India's response to the Great Wall of China. That's all we had time for before it got dark, so we headed back to get some rest. Jaipur may be the Pink City, but it's not the most exciting city on the planet.

See? Great Wall of India!

Lake Palace in Jaipur

Seasickness and Port Blair

Andaman Day 5: Tues Aug. 16.Today we checked out of Emerald Gecko and took the 9 am ferry back to Port Blair, where I discovered I have an innate ability for violent seasickness--it was not a fun ride. We were the only white people on the boat both times, which is a really strange feeling. I had gotten used to strange looks from people in Tiruvanammulai, where I was for the past few weeks before this, but in other cities, it takes some getting used to again. People will just sit across from you and stare at you. They don't say anything, they just stare. Or, if you're an army officer at the gate, you tell me I have a nice face. Thanks...as opposed to what, exactly?

We hadn't booked a hotel in Port Blair yet, so we took a pre-paid rickshaw to one of the properties suggested in my guide book to check out the rooms. Our driver tells us of his affinity for WWE and the Undertaker. Reminded me of that scene in Eurotrip where they end up in eastern Europe and they have just gotten Miami Vice on tv...a little behind the times. Wrestling is so 1999...I think. Or never. Shocking fact, I'm not a big fan. Naturally, he takes us to the wrong resort, but we decide to check it out anyways. The bedroom was seedy yet livable for one night, but the bathroom looked like they pulled it straight out of the swamp. Much like dating, this is an absolute DEALBREAKER.

Moving on, we checked out a place we passed on the way to the first one, Sinclairs Bayview, and it was much better, albeit more expensive. James bargained down to Rs 2100 from 3500, so we took it. We just wanted to be comfortable before our long travels the next day, and this place had airport transfer, internet (although that's debatable with the connection speed, it was like dial-up all over again...on second thought, maybe they ARE stuck in 1999...Michael J. Fox, where are you!), and free breakfast.

After getting our bags, the rickshaw driver tried to get us to pay him extra because it took about an hour for this whole process--but isn't the whole point of a pre-paid taxi that you don't have to pay at the end? It's not our fault he took us to the wrong place first, and if there was an extra charge for waiting, they should have told us at the stand where we paid. I felt bad for him, but it's kind of not our problem--we can't just give him money because he feels like he deserves more, not with pre-paid.

We walked around Port Blair in the afternoon, and went to the aquarium, which was very basic, but for Rs. 5 it was a good detour. I learned to identify many of the species we saw snorkeling, which was great.

After giving up on the tragically slow internet available only in the lobby of the hotel, I headed back to the room to watch a mixture of Bollywood classics and brutal B movies that are for some reason extremely popular in India--Anaconda 2: Trail Of Blood may be the worst film I've seen, yet somehow it made it all the way over here and I'm still not famous. Maybe I need to rethink my career path.

We finally settled on The Alamo (great movie by the way), and in the process of getting ready for bed, I discovered something moving in my backpack. I froze apprehensively, waiting for this thing to reveal itself. Get ready for it, a COCKROACH was in there. I screamed and James went to work dismantling my luggage, pulling out one bra after another, looking increasingly uncomfortable, until he found the critter and captured him with a teacup. MacGyvered. And this is supposed to be one of the nicest hotels in Port Blair. I guess that's the trade-off: you either get isolated beach paradise but sketchy accommodation at best (like what we found here), or you get bathed in the lap of luxury, but you have to bribe fish to come near you (in the Caribbean). Luckily we were only there for one night before a long day of travel.

Snorkeling Elephant Beach

Our beachAndaman Day 4: Monday Aug 15.

We woke up to a gorgeous sunny day, so we knew we had to take advantage. I decided on a lazy morning on the beach, while James went back to the jungle for some more hiking. In the afternoon, we hired a boat to take us to Elephant Beach for some snorkeling.

Lazy morning on the beach

The calm before the boat ride After a hair-raising speed-boat ride over (seriously I thought my life was over, I was going to get eaten by a salt-water crocodile after being pitched out of the boat), we reached the beach. Completely deserted, we had the entire coral reef to ourselves to explore. Once I got used to hearing Darth Vader in my ear everytime I breathed through my mouthpiece, I got down to business.

There is no way to look good in a snorkel mask, Exhibit A. Simply put, it was indescribable. Sorry, Dad, but it puts the reefs in the Dominican to shame. Spiny sea urchins stick up through the crevasses in the masses of coral, while countless fish of all different sizes and colours swam around us. I wish I had an underwater camera so I could have captured some of it. Crystal clear water, illuminated by the sun, you could see every last detail. The colours! Oh, the colours. I couldn't believe some of these fish were real--they were too vibrant to be true! I was a little scared at first that they would think I was food, too, but even when I was surrounded, they never touched me. Part of why it was so amazing is that it was deserted. In the Caribbean, the guides have to bring bread to lure the fish back to where the tourists are treading water, hoping for a glimpse of a few species. Here, there's nobody. It really feels like you've stumbled on this incredible treasure that no one else knows about yet, and that's really special.

Showdown with a crab

We walked along the beach to dry off a bit, and encountered several dead trees and a particularly ornery crab--photos were necessary. A storm rolled in quickly after that, so we had to hightail it out of there. I really thought we were going to get hit by lightning on the way back--the clouds were getting darker by the second and being in open water when that happens is just terrifying. Can you tell I'm not a sailor?

Jungle Trekking

Andaman Day 3: sunday aug. 14. It was cloudy this morning, so James and I drove up the coast to this elephant trail we found the night before, and decided to hike through the jungle and see where it led. I hung in there for a couple of hours, but eventually I reached my mosquito quotient for the day. After that, we headed over to beach no 7 to catch the (legendary?) sunset but were promptly escorted off the beach by two armed guards: apparently the beach closes at 5 pm everyday. No reason given. SUSPICIOUS. So all those guidebooks that say come to Havelock for this sunset need to be rewritten...cause you can't see it even if you want to!

We did, however, stumble upon Barefoot, the best resort on the island (according to Tripadvisor, with prices to match). We kicked back, had a beer there and played foosball in the lobby. Dinner, however, was out of our voluntary price range, so we came back to Rony, our usual and new favorite spot, for dinner.

The moon is incredible from our beach--I've never seen it so bright, but it makes the whole ocean sparkle. Cameras can't do it justice, but to give you an idea, here's a quick photo. Impressive.

Best Beach in Asia?

Andaman Day 2: Sat. Aug. 13.

I woke up at the crack of dawn this morning (I did go to bed shamelessly early) and had Nutella pancakes on the beach. Did I mention we have our own private beach? Not sure if this is due to it being the off-season, general lack of visitors, or it actually being private, but we are reaping the benefits.
Our beach

I went to take an open-air shower, and when I got out, my legs suffered a sudden onslaught of painful burning--it felt like someone was sticking a thousand knives into my skin at once. No visible reaction, just clearly something in the water trying to convince me to fully embrace my backpacker status and not shower for the next four days...that's what the ocean's for, right?

After I took some allergy meds and my legs calmed down a bit, James and I headed to Beach Number 7, aka Radhanagar Beach, to check out the alleged Best Beach in Asia, according to Time Magazine. We rented a motor scooter and made the drive across the island, through the jungle. One of the most beautiful drives I've ever taken, actually.
On the drive to Beach No. 7

The beach was gorgeous and not crowded at all, although I think Best Beach in Asia might be a bit of a stretch. Maybe before the tsunami. There was a sign at the entrance warning of the dangerous creatures lurking in the area, which was a bit alarming...I mean, stone fish that you can't see? CROCODILES? I definitely refrained from entering the water. My bronzed complexion is much better suited to soaking up some rays on the beach, obviously...

We headed back to grab some dinner at the resort, when a fellow backpacker let us know about this restaurant down the street that was less than half the price of the resort. We decided to be adventurous, albeit cautious, because we didn't want to get sick. Rony's restaurant turned out to be the best discovery on the island. Huge plates of home-cooked food for dirt cheap. The place is run by a family in what looks like their front porch, and they will cook you seafood they caught that day if you ask them. We saved so much money by making the short trip over from where we were staying, and it was so good!

Almost Thailand

Travel DayAndaman Day 1: Friday August 12th

I left my home in Shantimalai today to embark on a three-week whirlwind trip through India and Nepal with my friend James. Hailing from New Jersey, James is one of my oldest friends. Ever since he saw me frolicking naked in his meadow in Switzerland at the tender age of three, and I laid eyes on that glorious mushroom haircut, we knew this was the start of something special. Twenty years later and we're still on speaking terms, which is impressive. For the next few weeks, we will be traveling together--it'll be interesting to see what having a big brother feels like. I'm annoyed already.
James is doing the hippy chic look now, because he knows he can't get away with it in law school

James and I took a taxi at 3 am in order to arrive at the airport in time for our 10 o'clock flight. Indian airport security is a peculiar thing that seems to defy logic.

For example: I was allowed to bring a 2L bottle of water through without so much as a second glance, but I couldn't put my bag on the security belt without the luggage tag I was supposed to be given at check-in (which was never filled out...so they needed a blank luggage tag. Okay...) Then, when I was boarding the plane, they required these tags to have a stamp (that said something completely illegible, to be given at the same security checkpoint that required the tags...the same checkpoint that DIDN'T stamp my tags). Back through the airport I went for the second time. It just makes no sense.

Then the actual boarding of the plane is another feat in itself. They open 2 entrances at the front and rear of the plane, but don't specify who can get on where. This creates the mother of all traffic jams, because instead of sorting this out on the tarmac where there is room for planes to turn around, it now needs to be resolved in the alley between the seats, which is tough for ME to get through, let alone an Indian lady and her entire family. Of course, most Indians don't understand the concept of waiting in line, and will blatantly walk out and around to the front, completely ignorant of the other 200 passengers waiting to board. But they all do this to each other, so it's a backward system that works for them. For us Westerners, it's agonizing to watch. I definitely stuck out a leg a few times to secure my spot in line, and elbowed my fair share of grandmas out of my way, but it's a dog eat dog world: They know just how small and cute they are, and how stupidly polite Canadians are, and sneak in front, plastering an innocent smile on their face, daring you to do something about it. It's more about the principle, and it's infuriating!

The flight's not so bad; the airport in Port Blair is tiny, and is given to the Indian airforce after 3 pm, which explains all the early flights. We were on a tight schedule--our flight was supposed to land at 12:05, and the last ferry to Havelock Island (where we were staying) was at 2 pm, on the other side of Port Blair. After some difficulty in locating the ticket office, we were on the ferry, en route to Havelock. After about two hours of refrigeration in the ship's air-conditioned belly, we made it. We bargained our way to a taxi that would take us to the Emerald Gecko Resort, where we were staying for the next few nights.

The term "Resort" should be used loosely on Havelock Island--make no mistake, this isn't the all-inclusive Caribbean escape you had on Spring Break. A bamboo cabin not more than 20 feet from the ocean was ours for Rs. 625 a night...about 12 dollars total. It came with an open-air bathroom, which included a parade of various creatures making an appearance on the regular--turning the light on before you go in the middle of the night is CRUCIAL. Being a bamboo cabin (allegedly built using rafts that floated ashore from Myanmar, but I remain skeptical about this), it is not exactly air-tight. The bed has a mosquito net surrounding it, which is fun--it really feels like we're camping, tropical style.

Our cabin by the ocean

After a delicious meal of Butter Chicken and paratha from Blackbeard's Bistro, the restaurant at the resort, we were absolutely exhausted and went to bed by 8 pm. Fantastic schedule. I'm practicing for retirement. I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself..I should probably work on getting a job first. But that's neither here nor there. Day 1 in the books!

3 Countries, 2 Continents, 1 Travel Day

Think about it. Istanbul is straddling Europe and Asia. I'm flying to Dubai, in the Middle East. Then India. Busy day for me! Waiting to board my flight to Dubai. Hungover, tired, and stressed. Trying to leave it behind.

The plane is massive, and full of people that clearly do not know how to travel. Relax, they're not going to leave without you, and it's not a big deal whether you're the first on board.

No free wifi at the airport sucks-I'm finding it's really hit and miss and totally depends on the country. Also unaccounted for is the difficulty in finding a free socket I can charge my electronics with. At the hostel, you're barely in your room except to sleep, so I don't want to leave stuff like that out while I'm not there-it's too tempting. While I'm sleeping its the same problem-I'm afraid ill wake up to an empty charger.

So basically if i want things charged, I have to sit in my room and wait. Naturally, I'm about to board a 10 HR flight with a dead iPod and an iPad at 14%.

The flight is delayed about a half hour, which isn't too bad; I have a 2 HR layover in Dubai, so it should be fine.

I get on the plane and find my seat, which is at the very front of a section so there's no one in front of me and I have a ton of leg room. Score! As I'm unpacking and getting settled, a steward comes and asks if I would mind changing seats so a family can use the space for a basinette. Well, I would mind, but I'm not that much of a jerk so I agreed. I got a window seat and an empty one next to me, and they gave me the food being served in business class. I sipped free champagne all flight, so it worked out alright. oh, and they had a charging station in the stewards' bay, so they charged my iPad for me while i was on the flight.

We land about an hour and a half behind schedule and now I'm getting antsy. I don't know what the pilot was doing, but I did not purchase a ticket with a scenic night tour of Dubai.

We land and taxi into the plane's parking space, which is obviously the furthest point from the terminal I need to be in. There are shuttles waiting, and these took us on another half hour drive to get to the terminal. Now it's getting close.

I walk in expecting to be filtered into a separate direction for connecting flights, but everyone is being told to go the same way. I take the escalator up to see the longest line of security I have witnessed on this trip so far. Easily a two hour wait. I was faced with a moral dilemma: do i wait my turn, like a good Canadian, or do I throw the 'bows up and make something happen? I mean, everyone was in the same boat as I...

Elbows were up and I crosschecked my way through many disgruntled passengers to let security know i was going to miss my flight if I wasn't bumped to the front of the line...usually they do this for you in Europe or north America if you're catching a connecting flight, but either way I thought once I brought this to their attention I'd be sent straight through.

That would be a false assumption. He just pointed to the line and said "what do you expect me to do? They're also all waiting." that was the last straw for me-I pushed past him, threw my bag on the security belt, scooted through the scanner, and was on my way. No one stopped me, which proves the whole thing was just a disorganized disaster. Not cool, Emirates. Not cool. You WILL be hearing from me, and i do expect something to be done about this. Not the service I paid for.

I put my head down and literally sprinted to the gate for my connecting flight, which was on final call and at the very end of the terminal.

Much smaller plane, middle seat, surrounded by 3 huge Indian guys. Doesn't look like I'm getting much sleep tonight. Note to self: stop booking night flights! They make travel so much harder and tiring! Unless I were flying business class, in which case, note to future rich self: fly all night!

I really wish I had been on a direct flight from Istanbul to Chennai. This whole transfer business makes it so much tougher. Also difficult and not pictured: taking money out before I get to India. Let's hope they have ATMs by now...I remember there was a point in which they didn't have computers in their banks, and everything was kept by hand ledger.

I slept for most of the taxi ride, although we had to stop for a bathroom break at some point. The cab pulls over to this roadside stand with refreshments and says it's in there. In where? This is a shack! Yeah...We walked behind, through a metal workshop, into the sketchiest room I have ever been in in my life. Straight out of Hostel or the Saw franchise. Corrugated metal on all sides, no light, flies buzzing above the hole in the ground that was to be the toilet. GREAT. What choice did I have? Thank god I bought that roll of Charmin To Go in Shoppers before I left on my trip.

TMI? That's India for ya.

Corfooooood

Corfu Day 2 - July 5 That damn bus almost killed me. Well, the walk to the bus almost killed me. "Yeah it's just up the road a bit, leave about 20 minutes before and you'll be fine," said the bartender. I thought that's not too bad, a nice stroll will be great, I can take some pictures, just gravy.

NOT THE CASE.

I literally scaled a MOUNTAIN for 30 minutes, in 35 degree heat, in flip flops. Never again. I'm dreading going down when the bus drops me off...

I run about 8k most days, and I was struggling after about 30 seconds of this crap. Screw the view, tomorrow I am renting a scooter. Now I know why everyone in Corfu has amazing beach bodies.

I walked to the Old Port when I got here, and found a cafe so I could try some traditional greek food--this is one of the cuisines I've been most excited to try! Tons of tavernas along the shore, but I found one with a particularly spectacular view, and was family-run so I'm hoping it's not TOO touristy. I like trying to find traditional restaurants in which to try traditional food...versus the Pizza Hut I passed on the boardwalk. I had greek salad, which was light and fresh, with huge pieces of feta, and souvlaki--I'm very satisfied. It's so nice to just sit by yourself sometimes and admire what's in front of you (in my case, this ridiculous view). Still on the greek food list to try while I'm here: Gyro, Moussaka, and Calamari.

I have to try and navigate my way back to the bus stop (remember how that went for me in Berlin?), and then I'll probably hit the beach for a few hours before dinner.

There's a nude beach that has special mud that's supposed to be amazingly good for your skin, but I'm not sure I'm going to be that adventurous...YET. I still have 2 days here so you never know.

My Real Greek Salad

Souvlaki

Unidentified sweet treat I was brought after my meal...baclava? Part of Corfu's Old Town

Cor-fun In The Sun

corfu from the plane Corfu Day 1 - July 4

Happy Independence Day! In other pointless exclamations, Corfu. is. beautiful. I had a window seat on the plane, and I just stared out the window the entire time because I couldn't believe I was actually going there (side note: the coast of Albania is amazing, highly recommend checking that out on a future trip).

I touched down to sun and beautiful scenery, and am so glad I picked this over Romania! I was thinking of continuing east because that's the easiest way for me to get to Istanbul, but I just realized, this is my trip, I can do whatever I want, and I want to go to places that I'm excited about, not just going for the sake of going.

The hostel I booked offers free pick ups from the airport, which I gladly accepted -- even though I had to wait an hour for her to show up. I'm glad I waited though, as taxis to the hostel are about 50 Euros. Welcome back to "Western Europe", Katy.

The hostel is family owned and run, like the last one, but it's pretty remote, so it operates almost more like a resort--breakfast and dinner are included, and there's a bar in there too. It's kind of weird though, because this is also where the family lives, so you'll be at the bar and then turn around and one of her kids is watching tv in the living room.

The room is very small, although coming from our last hostel (18 foot ceilings) I guess I'm kind of spoiled. Reality check. It's also kind of sketchy security-wise...there's an old key to my room, that I share with one other person, and that's it. No locker or anything. So I've been carrying all my valuables around with me because I don't trust it in the room.

The location is definitely why people go here. The views are just breathtaking, and there's a patio that you can sit in with unobstructed views of the Ionian Sea in every direction. It's so beautiful it's surreal.

I quickly changed and headed down to the beach where all these lounge chairs were scattered. I found an empty one and laid out, basking in the Greek sun and feeling like a million bucks until I hear a voice. "You pay?" I'm thinking what is this? "You pay," he repeated. Ummmm no? "Then you leave." Apparently the chairs cost money, something my hostel neglected to mention! Screw that, I packed up and took it as a sign that I shouldn't be baking myself any longer.

Tonight, I just hung out at the bar and chatted with the staff a bit--there's not too many people staying here, so tables were eventually pulled together and I met a couple from England and 2 people traveling together from Perth, Australia. They were really great, but they left the next morning :(

At about 3 am, we decided to run down to the beach and go for a late night dip in the Sea. It was one of the best moments of my trip. All you can see is the water, and this massive canopy of stars everywhere you look, because there was no moon. I just remember opening my arms, looking up, and thinking, 'Life is amazing.' I really hope everyone experiences a moment like that at some point..it's hard to describe but you'll know when it happens.

After about 10 seconds we realized how cold we were and ran up to the hotel on the beach and crashed their pool so we could warm up...sorry if you were staying there. But you're not using the pool at 3 am anyway.

Tomorrow I'm going to take the bus into town (about 30 min) and explore a bit--I want to go horseback riding, parasailing, and rent a quad to see the rest of the island at some point, so today is my time for relaxation.

Depressing (Buda)Pest

Walking with Mr. Reagan in Pest Budapest Day 3 - July 3

This morning, we woke up in time for a 10:30 am walking tour of Pest, the other city that makes up Budapest (on the other side of the Danube). It is 3 times bigger than Buda. Our guide was very knowledgeable about the town, as her family has lived here her whole life. She explained a lot about the city's history, and it basically sounded like Budapest has had the short end of the stick for most of its history. Occupied by the Ottoman Empire, by the Austrian Hapsburgs, then the Nazis, then communism...they've only been a republic since 1989, so this is a fairly new stage, which probably explains some of the massive hyperinflation I mentioned earlier. Hungary is part of the EU, but I don't think they'll be allowed to switch to the Euro until they can pay off some of the 22billion they owe the IMF...Greece part 2, no thanks.

It was definitely not as exciting, visually, as the tour of Buda--but there's just not as much to see on the other side. Lots of communist monuments and buildings you can see bullet holes.

I think that's why I'm not a huge fan of the city--it's pretty, but instead of walking the streets and thinking about how beautiful life in the city must've been at the time these buildings were built (like I did in Vienna), I just think about all the terrible things this city has seen. Kind of depressing!

It's also caught me off guard how poor people are here. I expect it in some place like India or southeast Asia, but this is Europe! Our guide said the average salary is 150,000 Forints. A YEAR. That's less than 800 dollars. Shocking.

On the bright side, this means that Hungary is dirt cheap. We bought tall cans of beer for 89 Forints...which is about 75 cents Canadian.

Tonight, we went to a place recommended by our guide to try traditional Hungarian food, called Castro Bistro. We tried to order the layered potato dish she said we should try, but they were out! So instead, I had Hungarian pasta (which basically was pierogies with bacon, sour cream, and onions, except with pasta) and goulash. Hungarian food is HEAVY. We definitely had some serious food comas to deal with after that meal.

Tomorrow, I'm hopping a flight to the northernmost island in Greece, Corfu. Our hostel owner said he'd drive me to the airport which is awesome, because apparently I would otherwise be navigating 2 subways, a tram, a bus, and a km walk. Can't wait for some sun! Hungary has been way too cold for me in July.

My Hungarian feast!