I’ve made the jump to India and it hasn’t taken me long to find a high place to watch the street, eat some naan (quite possibly my favorite bread) and sip on some lassi (a sour yoghurt drink).
And, alas, I’ve finally been sucked in to booking a tour with the impossibly persistent travel agents that comb the streets looking for fresh meat. I’m almost ashamed, but sometimes figuring things out for yourself is simply not worth the savings.
For about $70 I will get a 24-hour bus ride up to Kashmir where I will spend 4 days and 3 nights with the family of the guy that roped me in. He had some good reviews supposedly hand-written by other suckers and if it all goes to hell I didn’t lose more than three days budget. And because India and Nepal were going to be the spiritual and physical part of my journeys, I’ll save a lot of money by holding off the booze.
I was planning on sticking around in Delhi for about 5 days, but it’s seriously hot here. And dirty, and humid, and hassle-ridden, and without the beer, it’s just not worth it right now.
So, to the cooler climes of Northern India I go — where the peaceful lakes and mountain peaks may sate my need for quiet, “handshakemyfriendmyfriendwhereareyoufrom”-free, contemplation.