Pakistan- The land of the honest.

Pakistan- The land of the honest.

So there we were, in the Islamic Republic of Pakistan and it was Ramazan, the blazing heat of the Punjab burning down on us and despite all this I could not help but he ecstatic. I had finally made it to Pakistan, a place that had taken a ton of planning, a painful visa process and a lot of courage to just make the trip.

We went through customs on the Pakistani side and they then ushered us to a small restaurant to eat out of view of the regular Pakistanis. In Islam, travellers are allowed to abstain from the fast. We sat down and began to have our tea, and I saw a woman with some cookies and I said, where can I buy these cookies. She then proceeded to give them to us and said, “you are a guest of Pakistan, enjoy!”. I could not believe it, after being in India, where all I was to most people was a dollar, here I was treated not only as a person again, but as an honoured guest. I had always heard of the incredible hospitality of Pakistani’s, and this small gesture was only the beginning.

We went to the border ceremony, front row centre. The Pakistanis beside us bought us flags to cheer on their country, while in India this was unlikely to ever happen, it is more likely that they would sell you the flag for 10 times the price and laugh about it with their friends later on. And Hindu’s say they believe in Karma, lol, right, I think they could take a lesson from their Pakistani cousins across the border.

We looked for a bus, and rather than be led astray to some taxi stand of some guys cousin, pretending to help us, as is the case usually in India, we were directed right to the bus into Lahore. We arrived in the Lahore, broke the fast with a date given to us by the bus driver as the sun set across the Punjab plain, it was an amazing welcoming to Pakistan and the start of what I knew would be an great adventure.

I toured Lahore, taking in the fort, the grand mosque, the markets of the old town and eating a whole ton of meat, it was a delicious change from India. We saw the break down of Pakistan’s religious make up in Lahore, seeing Sikh temples and Christians churches along side mosques, quite a surprise considering the western medias impressions of Pakistan, but Lahore is said to be one of its most liberal cities. Lahore was a great starting spot for the trip, the hostel we stayed at had many travellers from China, Japan, Korea and Germany that gave us a few good pointers on how to move around the country.

I parted ways with Jiffy and made my way to Islamabad to sort out some VISAS. I had to get my Iran Visa and Chinese VISA in order to make my way to Afghanistan. So Islamabad proved to be a solid stop, I applied for the Chinese VISA, as the Iran embassy was one of the biggest bullshit affairs I have ever seen, but hey I didn’t expect it to be a straight forward affair, details will follow shortly. The Chinese embassy was something of a comedy. Pakistani’s like their Indian cousins have no concept of a line up, they stand around the cubicle, five or six at a time, and will interrupt often while trying to apply for a visa. The Chinese on the other hand are some of the most organized people on earth, so this clash of culture was entertaining to watch. Chinese YELLING at Pakistani’s, GET IN LINE! WAIT YOUR TURN, ENGLISH ONLY! I was laughing the entire time, mostly inside and despite all the Pakistani’s applications never seeming to be correct, I applied, submitted my passport, spoke to the lady for all of one minute and she told me to come back Monday and pick up my VISA. I guess dealing with a Canadian was a bit of a breeze compared to the latter clientele.

I took advantage of the weekend and flew down to Karachi, Pakistan’s largest city and one of the craziest and fastest growing cities in the world.

I had a german guy in Lahore tell me that 99% of tourists to Pakistan do not visit Karachi, so needless to say, with that I just had to check it out. I proved to be a fantastic adventure. I met an American girl named Megan at the Jinnah mosoleum and she introduced me to her friends in Karachi, most of whom had studied in the USA and all knew fantastic English and understood the social customs of a the west, a true luxury in Pakistan.

 One girl, Khaula proved to be most interesting, her work in documentary film making got me very interested in Pakistan and her knowledge of the history of Karachi and her people the Mohajirs, the muslims that migrated from India during partition was most interesting. I learned a heck of a lot with these young and modern Pakistanis. Khaula introduced me to her friend Salar, who gave me an inside look into a very different lifestyle in Pakistan. The consumption of alcohol and partying with ladies is almost unheard of in this country, at least publically. Salar showed me it is very alive in the private homes of the countries young elite, many of whom could care less for these forced religious restrictions that many of them told me are a recent phenomena. The rise of extreme and conservative Islamic behaviour in this country is apparently a recent affair, as my Pakistani friends said when their parents were our age they danced the night away at clubs, listened to the latest western music hits and the beer flowed freely across many parts of the country.

Karachi proved to be an adventurous weekend and an insight into the cauldron of culture that makes up this very diverse Islamic state.

I flew back to Islamabad, picked up my Chinese visa and proceeded to the Iran embassy, round two with the diplomatic Pakistani jerks that work at the front desk. Despite having all my documents in order, the man insisted I need finger prints. Now I have travelled to over 90 countries and had visa applications to some of the worlds most remote and or isolated nations, and NEVER have I had to go get my finger prints done. And no Pakistani applying needed this, I think they just wanted to make things difficult for me. So needless to say a trip to the police station is never an easy one in a country like Pakistan, But after a few bribes and a bit of persistence I managed to get the prints done, return to the embassy, submit my application and pick up my VISA they next day!

HORRAY, WE ARE OFF TO IRAN!

 After this I decided it was I needed a break from Ramazan, the most painful time to travel in an Islamic country. And unlike many of the gulf states, with massive expat populations or the middle east/ north African arab states with significant christian minorities, there is literally no avenue to find food. I had to eat dried fruit in my room just to make it through the day and with this I decided having to put up with this in Afghanistan and Iran would be just a hellish month. The most logical next step was to go to CHINA! Where Ramazan means nothing to the Han Chinese.

I thus made my way to the north of Pakistan. Taking a bus, which mid way through I found out to be a very dangerous risk. This bus was full of Shiite muslims, and are often targeted by sunni extremists or Taliban on the road from Islamabad to Gilgit. We had to form a convoy with several other busses to stay safe on the road, but after 22 hours we finally made it to Gilgit. I travelled onward to Hunza, and relaxed for a couple days in one of the most beautiful valleys in the world.

  After recharging the batteries, I made my way from Hunza to Sost on the Chinese border and spent the night there before making the trip to Kashgar.

The Karakoram Highway, an amazing feat of engineering has been flooded between Hunza and Sost, due to landslides, a 35 KM lake has formed of crystal blue water, which makes the adventure to Kashgar a few days longer, but amazing more beautiful.

Along the way I met a cool American chap who was on his way to China also, and as we discovered at customs very few tourists come this way and the guy said that I was only the 3rd Canadian to cross the border this year and the American was the first from his country.

 The Khunjerbad pass is the highest international border crossing on earth, standing at almost 5000 metres above sea level. A breathe taking landscape and an incredible journey it was. And if I thought the Chinese embassy was intense and orderly with the Pakistanis, the border was ten times worse.

The border guard, who I nick named captain Insano, was strict! He and his team checked everything, from our movies, to our wallets, camera and every shirt, sock and shoe in our bags. But when he asked me and the American if we were muslims, and we said no, he said “GOOD!” and then laxed off and went after the Pakistanis, who needless to say were bringing way more goods.

During Ramazan, one cannot drink water, smoke or do anything in public, as it is offensive to those that are fasting. The Chinese could care less about this, and openly smoke, drank and ate in front of the Pakistanis. As I will inform in my latter writings about western china, the Han Chinese, are doing everything in their power to squash islam in their country, as china is not a big fan of organized religion.

After that torturous ordeal at the border we finally made it through and onwards to Kashgar!

Welcome to CHINA! And one of the key stops on the silk road!

Cheers,

William Delaney

Déjà vu in the Punjab

Déjà vu in the Punjab

The final stop in India.

Five years ago our class from the university visited Amritsar to see the golden temple and the famous Pakistani border crossing at Atari.

I took it upon myself to see this once again, I crossed much more of India than I anticipated on this trip, but this destination was always in the back of my mind. And finally I made it!

I arrived and stayed at a small guest house close to the bus station in Amritsar, for two bucks a night it wasn’t half bad. I met a crazy Aussie guy, Jiffy, to whom was also on his way to Pakistan and Iran, so we swopped details and made plans to cross the border.

Amritsar was much busier than I remember, but it seems like most of India seems to be that way, I am sure they have added another 100 million people since I visited last in 2007. I visited the golden temple, had lunch there, adventured around this crazy city and took in my last tastes of delicious India food. I had to stick on the vegetarian train, as I knew that upon going to Pakistan and Afghanistan I would once again become a carnivore.

The border ceremony was a hit, a tad more exciting than my visit five years ago, as the Indians seemed to be much more into it on this go around. Chants of HINDUSTAN! Women dancing around, showing off all the colours of the subcontinent, dancing to bollywood’s latest hits and marching their flags at Pakistan was quite something. I saw a fantastically familiar site on my way back to Amritsar, the sign that says “India, the world’s largest democracy welcomes you”. A kinda screw you to Pakistan and their troubled political history since the countries split in 1947.

The next day I arose, grabbed Jiffy and we made our way back to the border, to go through all the formalities and watch the border ceremony on the other side. We made one final stop at a beer shop to grab one final beer before entering Pakistan, a country where drinking Alcohol is largely Illegal. Jiffy was soundly ripped off at first, as is the case in India, leaving once again a fine impression of the Indians. But hey, if one expects honesty, good hospitality, cleanliness and organization, they best go to Germany and not India.

The border was intense, as to be expected. These two nuclear armed enemies take their security very seriously, but we made it through pretty straight forward. I exchanged the last of my Indian rupees, got across the customs on the India side and walked across the same border where we had sat the night before watching the show. We managed to snap a shot with one foot on either side, and the border guards from both countries had a good laugh at these two wacky adventures doing what only so few that travel India would dare to do, see the other side of the subcontinent.

Welcome to Pakistan and the other side of Punjab.

Details to follow soon.

Cheers,

William Delaney

New Delhi and the North of India.

The road to Pakistan Kashmir and the frontier. As I have mentioned before in my blog, part of the reason for undertaking this adventure across asia was to help understand the partition of the subcontinent and get into the areas of the world that are the cross over zones of culture.

I arrived in New Delhi with my new found partner in crime Jenny of Saskatoon. Jen and I focused our attention on dealing with administrative details in Delhi, as one usually does in a capital city. I investigated my Iran Visa, we sought out information about the North of India, transit options, and I took the time with the wide availability of internet to research about Pakistan.

Jen was a big fan of jogging, as it is something I do daily while travelling to keep in shape, I was thrilled to have some one else with me. The looks I usually get while jogging around the world are quite something, throw in a blonde female with me, on some of the craziest and most crowded streets in the world, in a country where women seemingly never appear outside, and you have one heck of an adventure.

We hurdled over donkey carts, weaving between cars, rickshaws and billions of people(And I literally means billions, this is India after all). We ran from Pahar Ganj, the Delhi backpacker hub, all the way to the Jama Masjid Mosque in Old Delhi, along with other locations around old Delhi, where we would eat dinner and then walk back to our hotel. It was truly a hilarious venture, and I have to say, Indians do form quite a cheering section while running, even with my ipod lost, I had all the motivation I needed from the supportive crowd, and you should have seen the attention Jenny got, lol.

We also managed to have a DINOS FOOTBALL reunion in Delhi, as my good friend Aneel Brar has been working in Rajistan, building a maternal health clinic there, and happened to be in Delhi at the same time. He opened Jen and I up to a whole new life style in Delhi, seeing a part of the city, Hauz Kauz that is one of the more posh, where not only do you see girls, but you see them in dresses, drinking wine and dancing to the latest tunes of India and from around the world. A stark difference from Old Delhi, that is for sure.

For those of you interested in Aneel’s work, which in my opinion is an outstanding project done by a Canadian of Indian descent, check out his blog here:

http://prominenthomescharity.wordpress.com/

Regardless, our time in Delhi was outstanding, and we made some moves Northward into Kashmir, to the city of Srinagar and onto a house boat for a couple days. It took 27 hours on a gruelling bus trip to get to Kashmir. We would have flown, but Jenny’s passport was in processing at the embassy, so this was not an option, but I assure anyone thinking of visiting Kashmir, TAKE THE FLIGHT!

We enjoyed our time in Kashmir, we relaxed on the lake, visited the old city of Srinagar and its 300 year old mosque, despite every Indian in the city telling us not to visit, due to their fear of muslims. 95% of the tourists were Hindu’s and Sikhs, not to mention the MASSIVE military presence in Kashmir, it gave me the sense of a type of “occupation” in the region.

I have to say though, the Kashmiri’s have to be some of the most handsome people in India, and due to the lack of international tourism in the area, they are quite receptive to tourists, as we found the local police and shop keepers in town to be quite thrilled seeing two visitors from Canada. And the usual Indian travel hassles of being ripped off, lied too and jerked around rarely apply here. A fantastic spot if one needs a break from the usual tourist trail of India.

We left Srinigar on a two day bus journey to Leh, in the Ladakh region, or as some call little Tibet. This bus journey, despite being long was beautiful, an amazing experience, kicking in a few Danish and dutch tourists and your have quite a concoction for a great trip. We managed to have a solid three hour delay due to land slides, had to spend a night in Kargil, less than ten miles from the Pakistan border(the city invaded by the Pakistani’s in 1999) and saw some of the strangest landscape changes on earth, passing through some of the coldest inhabited places in the world, which the signs outside town were happy to present. I also discovered the ice hockey, my nations national sport is participated in widely here. Now I doubt that the Indians will be in any position to challenge the hockey powers of Canada, Russia, the USA and Sweden, but it is cool to see them playing something besides cricket for a change, something that I actually understand. If I ever make it up to that region in winter, I will definitely strap on some skates and give it a go in India, I think that would be quite a feat!

After Kargil we headed down to Leh. Passing over peaks and passes over 4000 metres in elevation, some of the people of the bus got a little altitude sickness as we climbed and descended at an impressive pace. After muslim Kashmir, Buddhist Leh was quite a bit of a shock. Having spent the earlier part of this adventure in Nepal I had seen plenty of Buddhism and Tibetans, but this was a whole new ball game. They call this place little Tibet, and wouldn’t you believe it, the Dalai Lama himself actually came to visit during our stay in Leh. I found it astonishing that only days before we had slept within jogging distance of Pakistan, and here in Leh we were at the edge of the Chinese frontier, India is quite a country when it comes to its northern reaches, and most travellers miss out on this frontier of culture and topographical beauty.

I spent my days in Leh hiking the surrounding peaks, taking in the cool mountain air, the clean rivers and the overall peaceful and honest vibe of the Tibetans. We bought veggies in the local market, cooked them at our homestay and drank plenty of Indian wine with our new found friends from Holland, Switzerland, France and the USA.

After a few days here and seeing his holiness, I had decided it was time for myself to get moving towards the Pakistan border. Jenny and I said our goodbyes and myself and Haus, the Swiss man, to whom I believe is legend made our way on a solid 16 hour journey south to Manali.

Haus is a man of impressive adventure. He drove his motor cycle all over West, Central and North Africa, camping in the deserts of Algeria and the jungle of Cote D’Ivoire. He also has travelled to India and Pakistan several times in the past, so picking his brain about the changes in India was quite something.

We made our way from Manali up the river to a small town know for its hot springs, a place Haus visited about 20 years ago, where he stayed at a small homestay. The place had all but changed, and as a sacred pilgrimage site for Hindu’s and Sikhs, it was over run with domestic tourists. I managed to introduce Haus to the concept of visiting a Sikh temple for some free dinner and an opportunity to meet Sikhs and celebrate with them. Despite all his visits to India, he had never visited to the Punjab, or the famous golden temple. I tried my best to convince Haus to join me on the Punjabi frontier, but he was bent on making his way to Goa and relaxing before heading back to his family in Switzerland.

After a fantastic few days together, we said our goodbyes, Haus went to the small Israeli hippy village and I boarded an over night bus for the Punjab, my final destination in India!

Next up, the final India chapter and a little piece of Déjà vu!

Cheers,

William Delaney

KOLKATA ROUND TWO

Kolkata round two! July 7th

A special shout out to Sinead Harris-Jones. The Irish-American super star that helped the second go around of Kolkata be possible.

My last trip to Kolkata saw the highlights of the British Raj, this trip would dig into the underbelly of the modern day Kolkata. We stayed at Crazy- wanderers hostel, in the north of the city, close to the airport, which was rather convenient, as I had to hop a domestic flight to Delhi to visit my buddy Aneel and Sinead had to fly to Malaysia on the same day.

We added another team member, a kick ass girl from Saskatchewan, Jenny Jricka. Now I must throw this out there to all those of you reading around the world, most Canadian I meet abroad are from the following three locations: Vancouver, Toronto and Montreal, with the occasional splash of Calgary or Ottawa. To meet a gal from Saskatchewan abroad, especially India just blew me away. She ain’t from Regina or Saskatoon either, she is from a rural farming town, wayyyyyyyyy to cool. And as many of you will know, I got a pretty big lovee of the Saskies, including their famed green riders, wisers and pilsner, and many of my close friends are from Sasky.

So we made some moves, exploring the slums of Kolkata, celebrating USA independence day a day late and meeting local Bengalis in an area of the city that is not used to seeing tourists at all. It was just a grand experience.

We got Jenny a train ticket over night to Delhi, which is where I currently sit blogging as I await her trains arrival.

Kolkata from two different angles was the way to go and I am so glad I returned to the city a second time to compare the famed sites of Mother Teresa and the British Raj to the everyday life of the poor and less seen Bengali’s.

Now it is time for Delhi, where I will attempt to get my Iran Visa and reconnect with my experience last time in India. Time to rock!

Bring on Delhi and the road to Pakistan.

Cheers,

Will

The Former French Indo-China

The former French Indochina June 19th

After a few days in Bangkok, indulging in beer, pad thai and all the indulgences that make Thailand the tourist haven it is I was ready to embark on my journey to meet my close friend Alisha ona journey through a country very misunderstood by our part of the world.

Vietnam is heavily covered in our modern cinema. Movies, documentaries and books covering the American involvement in the war there, which was not long ago at all have painted a picture in my mind as to what Vietnam was and may be today. I was wondering what they would think of myself, as my accent and appearance resembles that of USA marine. I was very pleasantly surprised.

Many people I spoke to discussed their distaste for how aggressive the Vietnamese are when it comes to tourism, seeking to rip people off left right and centre. Although after being in India and Bangladesh I found travelling in this region to be a blissful breeze. I visited the museums of Hanoi before heading south to Hoi An to meet the gals. I saw the pictures of the French occupation and hints of communist Vietnam everywhere. Ho Chi Minh is essentially a god according to the propaganda found throughout the capital.

I arrived in Hoi An and could not have been more relaxed. I chilled with the gals, drinking 20 cent beers and hearing about their experiences across the far north of Vietnam. We parted ways from our group of four, as Stacey and Carly had other ventures to tackle and me and Alisha took a break to the far south to chill on the beach and soak up the former French hill station of Dalat.

The south of Vietnam was sooooooo chill. We drank wine, produced locally, dined in the markets on fresh seafood and enjoyed the surreal kindness of Vietnam. I could not help but ask myself, with how relaxed and friendly these people were, how on earth did they fight the USA? The people are small, relaxed and kind beyond belief. How could they have been the killers that I saw in the movies?

We went to Saigon, which is called Ho Chi Minh city, but it seems next to no one calls it that. That city was a blast, soaking up the markets, the chu chu tunnels and learning about southern Vietnam in the war museum. Seeing this vastly developing regional capital left me puzzling again. Despite the embargoes against Vietnam, which lasted until 1995, the place is developing beyond belief and may rival Thailand as one of the rising tigers of SE Asia.

I looked the understand better the three states of the former French Indochina, which includes Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. Having visited Cambodia five years, I had a taste of the region, but it was not nearly enough.

We crossed the border to Cambodia, and it was here we saw poverty and the ravages of their genocide. The occupation by the French and bombardments by the Americans seemed to still have a lasting impact on Cambodia, and even five years on since my last visit the country has changed little in my eyes. I expected Vietnam to be suffering in similar circumstances, but that was not the case. It appears the French had invested much more in Vietnam and left Cambodia to rot, as a backwater of their imperial agenda. Vietnam has worked to combat the lingering destruction of their war, seeking modern medical innovations and job creation for those most affected, but Cambodia was still struggling.

The genocide museum was a moving experience, one I had missed on my last visit to Cambodia. It was here in Phenom Pehn that Alisha and I parted ways. She went for Siem Reap to see Angkor Wat and I went North for Laos to get a taste of the final state of the former French empire in the region.

Although my stop in Laos was brief, I visited one of its most beautiful parts, the far southern corner called the 4000 islands. Located along the Mekong river I visited two friends of mine from Australia, Cherie and Nicky. These two gals have been conquering the whole region of SE for the last few months and I met them last in Malaysia. Catching up with them was a blast and seeing the agrarian and relaxed parts of Laos was a highlight.

Laos is leagues behind Vietnam as far as I could see, and the impacts of the French as few and far between, with the exception of the Baguettes and some other food influences, ohm and driving on the right side of the road, as opposed to the left in Thailand. Which by the way, crossing the land border by bus is quite interesting, lol.

This was a short detour on the trip, but an excellent recharge of the batteries, as what lies before me now is going to be rather daunting in comparison to the breezing relaxing travel of SE ASIA.

As I board the plane back to Kolkata from Bangkok I cannot help but have cherished this glimpse into the former French Indochina. It has given me more of a drive to explore SE Asia again and get a better understanding of the area, which I am sure at another point in my life I shall.

Up next, Kolkata part two and the road to Pakistan!

Cheers to all,

William

NORTH EASTERN INDIA- Where East meets Far East

The town of Sri Mangel, Northern Bangladesh

Where EAST meets FAR EAST Eastern India June 16th 2012 Calcutta, West Bengal, Eastern India.



 To get to Calcutta, I took a route that on my previous trip to India seemed incomprehensible. I saw a side of India that I never though existed, and I have begun to grapple with the similarities and differences of partition.

British owned tea plantation.

I left the beautiful coastal town of Cox’s Bazaar for the tea plantations of Sri Mangel, of the Syhlet province of North East Bangladesh. It was here that I started to really dig into the cause and effects of Partition, and the impacts the British had on Eastern Bengal. The plantations are worked primarily by Hindu’s, meanwhile the towns and cities of the province are populated by muslims, a legacy left by the British, whom still own many of the tea plantations of Bangladesh. The British brought Hindu’s from India to develop these tea plantations in the latter half of the 19th century, as they often trusted the Hindus and preferred to do business and employ them over their Muslim counterparts. I puzzled over this relationship, which seems quite peaceful on the surface of Bangladesh, but is commonly known not to be perfect.

Making my way to India,  gazing out at the flood plains of East Bengal.

One of the primary reasons for my return to the sub-continent, five years on now is to work on understanding the partition of India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. I have maintained that to fully understand India, one must see all three. I enjoyed every minute of Bangladesh, from the crazy streets of Dhaka, to the mountains on the border of Burma, the beautiful seaside and the plantations that make some of the best cuppas in the world.

Met many friends along the way to India. I guess not many tourists enter India this way.

I woke up bright and early in Syhlet, boarded a crowded bus and made my way to the border. As is the case often in Bangladesh, I had very little clue as to what was actually going to happen. Numerous questions spun through my head that morning… Would I actually make it to the border? What would the customs formalities be like? This border is pretty remote, would there be onward transport further into tribal India?

Across that river is India. North East India.

Well, I got to the border town, and as is usually the case in Bangladesh, not the person in sight spoke any English. I ask, “Where is the border?”, people look at me dumb-founded, I say, “INDIA!!!????”, they go, “ AHHHHHH, yes yes, right this way”. I begin to walk with a boy from the shop I had lunch at towards India, along a river on the flat plains of Bangladesh, and their in the distance are tall and green mountains, and he keeps pointing over and saying India!!, with a big smile on his face. I eventually reach a Bangladesh army base standing at a high point over the river facing India, they grab me a motorbike and take me to the border. I pay my exit tax at the local bank, go through the formalities, have one final cup of Chai, exchange my Taka for Rupees and walk across the border!

It has been a slice BANGLADESH!

I have made it back to INDIA! Five years later, to an area of India I never in million years though I would visit. Welcome to the North East tribal states, the frontier town of Dawki. I go through India customs, have a cup of tea and walk to the town. I see Christian churches, liquor stores, women with their hair out and even in this tiny tiny town on the frontier I find people speaking English everywhere. What a difference! The people are part of the tribal region of India and look more oriental, that their Indo-Arayan counterparts in the rest of the country.

A pretty chill border crossing, separated only by a small creek.

Here Christianity prevails as the dominant religion, not Islam, Sikhism or Hinduism. An amazing spot in the world. I see one of the most epic example of the geology on earth. The flat plain of Bangladesh ends and the mountains of North East India begin.

3.4 % of India are Christians and many are found up here in the NE.

Most protestants in this part of India.

I hitch a ride with a convoy of wealthy Bangladeshi tourists to make my way to Shillong city, about four hours away. And what a climb it is, within half an hour we are on the tops of mountains overlooking the endless plains of Bangladesh and I cannot help but ponder my experience there, along with welcome the experience that awaits me here in this largely unexplored part of India.

It looks more like central British Columbia than India. WHAT AN AMAZING PART OF INDIA! So lucky to get here.

These boys invited me to join their family convoy to Shillong city.

What a landscape, what a people, what a part of India.

Got a little misty up in the mountains, much cooler temps than Bangladesh.

After sweating bullets for days in on the plains of Bengal I reach this city in the mountains and for the first time in weeks I am forced to wear a jacket and no longer need air conditioning or a fan at my hotel. This city bursts with people of all different colours, languages and religions. I can sense hints of China, South East Asia, India and Bangladesh, all in one. I marvel at this, and for the first time in a while I taste a glass of whiskey and speak to a woman. It seems rather surreal, but I can tell even this remote corner of India is leagues ahead of Bangladesh in many ways.

The people have a more oriental look in this part of India. 

I make my way to Guwati, a city that straddles the Bramaputra river that flows into Bangladesh, I once again return to the heat of India and it is here that I feel that I am truly back to India, as elements of my experience five years ago pop up around every corner. I see poverty, chaos, people everywhere, garbage, bustling traffic, hear the vast honking of horns and I feel déjà vu left, right and centre. I spend a couple days here before taking an overnight train towards Darjeeling, the famous hill station of West Bengal.

Sunset on the Bramaputra river, it flows from the Himalayas to meet the Ganga in Bangladesh.

I buy an open ticket, for 94 rupees, about the 1.70$ and over night to the station closest to Darjeeling. I met some Sikh soldiers who thought I was a soldier myself and invited me to join them on the soldier train car, a far more comfortable option than I expected.

All the cultures and faiths of India are present in Guwati.

Eating dinner in the solider car. These men said I looked like a soldier and invited me to dine with them on the way to Darjeeling. We cracked a bit of whiskey and they told me some wild tales about being on the Indian frontier as a soldier.

I arrived first thing in the morning, exhausted from a crazy over night ride and made my way up to Darjeeling to embrace some cool weather once again before the long haul to Calcutta.

Climbing the Himalayas to Darjeeling.

Darjeeling is famous tourist destination for both domestic Indian tourists and foreigners. I walk up to my hotel, check in and I see two Americans from Tennessee. I am baffled, as for the first time in almost a month I see white people, and not only that, they speak English that I easily understand. They had been travelling India for months and I was happy to pick their brains as to what eventually awaits me.

Most of the people in Darjeeling are Nepali's, lovely people.

I embraced this hill station, relaxing in the cool air, jogging without sweating bullets, hiking in the hill stations many tea plantations and soaking up the surreal environment.

The Darjeeling EXPRESS!

I felt so much different on this go around in India, as on the last trip I was with the University and we were in a group, ushered to many different touristy destinations, easy prey for touts and tourist hawks. I can say that although I enjoyed my last experience in India, this time around I am truly in love, finding hidden gems around every corner and embracing the local people at every opportunity. I guess I have grown a lot in the last five years, and India itself is developing at a rate faster than I ever imagined. I left Darjeeling on an overnight train to Calcutta, arriving first thing in the morning. Since I was flying first thing the next morning back to SE Asia, I figured I would just sleep at the airport and save a night of accommodation. I saw many of imperial Britain's historic capital, from the Victoria memorial, the statues of high standing governors and all the base institutions that made british India function.

Her Majesty, QUEEN VICTORIA. The Queen of the British Raj.

The city was bustling, exciting and intriguing. I could not help but love it. After a day of sweating, exploring and engaging with the locals of Calcutta or Kolkata as it is now spelled I embarked to India’s third largest airport. I found this to be a hilarious experience, I expected something super developed as is the case with the Delhi or Bombay airports, I was sadly mistaken. The airport was very basic, tractors pulling in the luggage and no connector between the domestic and international terminals, and although their was a dorm to sleep in, they would not let me stay. I snuck in to use the internet at the domestic terminal and slept their on a bench.

Waiting for the bus to the airport in Kolkata.

I awoke the next morning to board my plain to Bangkok and onwards to Vietnam, having truly loved this short stint in Eastern India. In three weeks I will return to Kolkata to meet some friends and begin the second chapter of the Indian journey and onwards to Pakistan.

I can say, I was a bit nervous as to how I would take India, but my mind is more open now, and my attitude changed towards India. I cannot wait to return and see what lies in store.

India you rock! And I cannot wait to see you again!

As for now, time to rock some Vietnam with Cookie girl!

Cheers, William

Next up, VIETNAM!