Travel Stuff and Kathmandu

Traveling is about making adjustments, reacting to the scenarios as they flow in and out. Depending on the kind of travel and where it is and who you are with and how big is the group and the weather and the mood and the food and the money and...on and on...so many influences. Taxing at times, and also, part of the grand adventure. There are cliches about the journey, not the destination,  being the real learning road. When a trip includes a host of destinations, rather than a single one, there are stops and starts all the time. It is the transportation to and from the airport, the hotel, the airport with the wide variables of customs and security, the flights, living out of a suitcase, drinking the water...

Some people are born to travel and have done it so much that they flow, anticipating the next situation, responding calmly because their experience has shown them it all works out. Others do it occasionally and do not have much experience to draw from. Despite their inner makeup and how they deal with stress, much of the journey is new and there is no predicting the outcome. Bottom line is that travel is confrontive and rich in opportunity to see how one does in the moment.

This is a magnificent trip that is visiting 5 separate destinations, all of a mystical and spiritual quality that embrace the end of the year and the arrival of that 2012 portal of change and transformation. And each place still has it culture and way of life and people and setting that supports its day to day existence. It's a lot to absorb. I could not ask for better accommodations and travel companions and conversation and fun and flow than this one that Sonia has provided for me and all of us. Yet, sometimes, one just yearns for a break and leans towards the routines and comforts of home. Just for a moment...

I have learned to travel reasonably well. I prepare for the unexpected and flow pretty well with what is laid before me. I can deal with the unexpected. I still have a tendency to travel with too much, because I like to get back to the hotel and have a bit of the familiar to decompress with: a computer, an ipod, a book, a tablet and pencil, some personal business to tend to, a hard drive to download the photos... It tends to balance me so that I can hit the streets again with an openness. I have been pretty even on this trip so far.

These last two days have been about traveling to a new destination. We left Ananda and its serene care and pampering and descended to the Durdhan airport and their significant military presence on our first leg to our coming to Kathmandu. The planes we travel between cities are small. And the carry on I have, though regulation carry on rollerboard size, is too large for the overheads. So I take out what I want to have with on the plane, mostly the electronics that are fragile and easy to steal and I put them in a blue canvas bag. This is a minor annoyance as I have to unpack and repack with each flight. There is just stuff required at each airport, local flavor dictated by local people. It is not necessarily consistent. So, each time has a bit of reinvention.

The TSA here is military...gun toting and all about nusiness. One man tells me to leave the shoes on, the next one tells me to take them off. And all we can do is flow...no waves...don't want to be staying somewhere longer than intended.Pieced together we hang in the lounge. Same vibe as anywhere, there is a bookstore and a jewelry store and some food items...Lay's potato chips...cumin flavor...I am having a hard time with the language...English is not the first language here and the accent is strong. The money thing is a bit confusing. I get a water and some cashews and ask how much. The clerk says something and it just not register. I take out a 100 rupee note and he looks at me. I do not know if this means not enough or too much. I ask a local next to be, "Can you help me?"...he laughs. Turning back the man opens the money drawer and indicates there is not change for my hundred. The water is 20 rupees, about 50 cents. I have a 50 so I give that and the transaction progresses...moments in time..outside on the tarmac a small crew works on the runway by hand with shovels and tar...soldiers are standing around and the crew that works the incoming plane are sauntering into position. The turbo prop lands and pulls in. In most airports here you take a bus from the terminal to the plane...amusingly the plane settles within spitting distance of the terminal. Yet still the deplaning passengers are required to board the bus for the "ride" to the terminal. Off they go and moments later they are out and walking to the terminal. The bus follows them...huh?

We are called and we board the blue curtained bus. Full flight and the bus is packed. I peel back the curtain and see the plane 50 feet away. The bus moves forward and we start driving...for about 5 minutes...we must have gone out to the end of the runway and back...it is comical...laughter peppers the bus...off we go and into the plane for the one hour flight to Delhi. Easy flight and because we are in country, the deplane and access to bags is quick and effortless. We meet the tour company reps and they walk us to the bus that will take us to the Grand Hotel. The drive is through the streets of Delhi at rush hour. We are 15 minutes from the hotel by way of the crow, but today we are 45 because everyone wants to be somewhere at the same time. This affords us a beautiful opportunity to observe. Only in the large cities do you see the strong western influence. Most noticeable is the fashion teasers. Against the backdrop of squalor and local robed people the glaring Gap add seduces with a ripply abbed young man in low fitting blue jeans beckons...next to other absurd adds for Target, Wrangler, Sears...etc. The only fast food place I have seen is McD. Fast food here is mostly a pile of peanuts on a stove, a pan of heating samosas, a cart of fruit...

The hotel is modern...black marble on brown wood, striking. We eventually get to the rooms and then, after a brief refresh, meet for dinner downstairs in the in-hotel Indian Restaurant. Well appointed, we are ushered to a table for 8 in the back...the only people in the restaurant. 6 waiters and 3 cooks and one barman. We proceed to experience what can only be termed "a failure to communicate" We are a weary group, and having been cared for so lovingly by the Ananda staff for the last 4 days, have little patience. Please just bring us some garlic nan...OK...let us just say that things moved very slowly..and honestly, not knowing the local flavor and the way things flow, it is easy to get impatient...and you know that when anyone feels dissed the quality of the service heads south. We were showing signs of being the "ugly american", laying our demands on the people to meet our own needs...let's just say it was awkward...though it eventually worked out fine...and the food was really very good. Just before the last glass of wine was poured, the room went black...India is know for short lived blackouts...and here we were for five minutes...slowly the eyes adjust...kinda fun...something to add to the legend of the evening

Back in the room and off to sleep...I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of gurgling water. I seek the source and find it is my own digestive tract. The slithering mass is headed across the transverse colon toward the burst of freedom. I can feel its journey...oh, no! what did I eat? am I going to get one of those legendary disorders here? The inevitable happens and I find that on the other side i feel just fine...Deborah says do you have tremors or chills...no...then don't worry about it...my mind takes over and starts to look for symptoms...suddenly it feels warmer and I feel clammy...my stomach burns a little...goodness I feel some rumbling...one more visit...happy to say, that despite some mild discomfort and indeed, some sweating, my formidable immune system conquered whatever was seeking domicile and it passed like the wind

Took my bags down to breakfast for in prep for the departure...ate lightly, even having a glass of some kind of probiotic. Happy to say my Tigger riding bag led the way out of the hotel onto the waiting orange tour bus that would whisk us to the airport for the anticipated trip to Nepal...the airport at Delhi was crawling with travelers. sticking together we followed misinformation to the wrong area...no, to the other end...International...unpack the carry on...what about the money?  Nepal does not use Indian rupees...it will not accept notes of 500 or 1000 denominations...its a crime of sorts to even take them in...off to the currency exchange...sorry, can't change them...a run on hundreds...stress...please jet India rep, help us...a money changer comes over...one of our party has 9000 to change...there goes all the money changers 100's...aargh...down at the other end of the terminal we are led by the rep...only will change 10000 for all 4 of u...ok 2500 each...then to another one...rest is changed...scoot back to the rest of the waiting and now irritated party we step across the line to passport control where the scowling men hold your future in their hands...through...now security...through...now to the gate...Delhi airport had a significant makeover last year...it is beautiful...and big...we are in gate fourteen...and I swear it was 2 miles away by foot...drenched we arrive to find the gate is changed...only 5 away...and now the plane is delayed...geeez..but thanks as now we can recover...need water...10 rupees in the machine...bill goes in, bill comes out, unfold the corner and try again...out...smooth it over the edge...accepted...water....then i try at another machine...takes a 5 and then spits the other 5 out 20 times...a woman employee comes up and through the miracle of communication helps to understand that the machine is not working...but it ate my 5...come with me...two gates away to another machine...she takes my 50  and crumples it up in her hand...into her purse for a 10...into the machine...water out...smiles...my 50?  please keep it...i could see it all along...happy to serve...I have water...

Flight to Nepal is tight and full...one side sees the Himalayas, one side the plains...I see the plains....read and while away the 75 minute flight.

Arrival and customs...aargh...forms...pay $20 US for visa....do you have a separate pic...no, do I need one?...yessss...back there to the picture booth...what...smells like scam...do you want to get in?...yes, how much 230 Nepalese rupees...no, take Indian rupees...go to currency exchange...tick tock goes the time and patience...finally through...baggage handlers swarm...hey where is my bag?!...not in sight...look for the green tag...a man comes from another carousel...is this it? ...huzzahh goes the crowd...out into the Kathmandu afternoon...strains of Cat Stevens fill my inner air "Kathmandu, I'll soon be seeing you, with your strange bewildering eyes"... the mystery is about to begin...