Home of the Dalai Lama

tibeten flags
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Train to Dharamasala: After 5 days in Rishikesh we were ready for a change. We booked an overnight train ticket to Dharamasala--though the train only went as far as Chucky Banks --or at least thats what I think its called... I have no idea how to spell it!---when we arrived at the station at 3am we would take a bus the rest of the way. The young men at the ashram assured us that we would be fine... lots of tourists go there, the bus leaves every 15 minutes! We weren't too confident but it seemed we had no other choice.

more flags
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Then due to a misunderstanding about when our train was leaving we had to Tuk Tuk it down to Hardiwar to catch it, chasing the train from station to station.

We climb aboard with all our bags and found our spot (right near the toilets, how convienient!) and find it full of Indian women talking and a small boy crawling around on the floor. These 4 women are some kind of family unit and are having a great time socializing as we wait for the train to depart. We have the top and the middle bunks on one side and Hillary climbs up to the top bunk and settles in as much as she can while I stay down below, since the middle bunk is at the moment being used as a back rest for the seat, and try to make myself comfortable amonst the chatter.

bunch of dogs that followed up the mountain on our hike
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At this point I notice the boy who at first I had assumed belonged to them was tapping on my foot and shaking some coins at me. I tell him no and the ample women sitting accross from me in a dark blue sari tells him to beat it. After a bit he slinks off.

I'm told by my guide book not to give children money directly because they often use it to buy drugs. Instead give to NGOs that help the children.

Here are 2 links to a story about kids living at the New Delhi railway station just a few "blocks" from where we stayed in Delhi, as well as a link to Unicef so you can donate if you wish.

the peaks we longed to see!
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http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5421058&ft=1&f=1004

http://www.hinduonnet.com/thehindu/mp/2006/04/20/stories/2006042001240100.htm

http://www.unicef.org/india/support.html

The dark blue sari calls to the wallah outside on the platform. He is selling something fried and she asks me if I would like one. I think about it for a second and think since its fried I can't possibly get sick from it so I say ok.

beautiful
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Turns out to be a triangle of fried cheese! but this indian cheese is so young that it is quite flavorless and I think at first it is bread... coming served up on an old piece of newspaper and a squirt of mildly spicey ketchup. Delicious!

she speaks a little English and asks me the usual questions (where from, how old, married? children? ) and points to every object I have, facinated by its origin. (Inevitably it is from China).

Eventually I am allowed by the women to bring my bunk down so i can hunker down a bit with my bags as a pillow. It is a very hard and uncomfortable bunk and as the train starts and pulls in and out of stations people are constantly moving through the car staring and talking loudly. I am told by my guidebook not to return the men's stares as it might encourage them so I resist the urge to return the confrontation. A book in front of my face is helpful. sigh. it is only 7pm and we have till 3! All I can say is that it is not a great nights sleep. The light in our car never goes off, I assume because it is so near the door and the Chai Wallah is through there every stop yelling.... Also, we keep stopping in the middle of the night for apparently no reason... nothing around. 20 minutes at a time. This was when you could really hear the snoring. One guy in the next car sounded literally like he was underwater. I thought he would choke on his own saliva! So loud! Police with giant guns came by at one point looked around, opened the door and looked out... came back in. What was going on? In my sleepy state I was confused and dreaming, I thought.

at the top where only the next day it snowed!
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Around 3:30 we finally pile out, not completely sure we are supposed to: no station names are ever called out, I just kept asking everyone around...."is this 'chucky banks'? OK. We made it! Just outside as we are hoisting our backpacks on a man with an eastern european acccent asks us if we know what we are doing? Ha! supposed to be a bus we say! Outside the station we hit a stroke of luck and fall upon another small group of westerners already haggling with a jeep driver to take us direct to McLeod Ganj, Dharamasala where our hotel is. I don't see any buses....

terraced farms
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The negotiated price is about 240 Rs each. It takes us two hours... up and up these steep, twisty, narrow, bumby roads. The air is clear (except for the fumes from the jeep we are in!) and we can see a million stars and the sillouettes of mountain peaks!

Ahhh!

the next day after we sleep in we wander around and see the place where the Tibeten's live in exile. While we are there there is a demonstration to protest the Chinese president, Hu Jintao's visit to Delhi.

Read about it here:

andrew goldsworthy?
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http://www.iht.com/articles/ap/2006/11/20/asia/AS_GEN_India_China_Tibet.php

Also, I'm lazy... Here is my friend Hillary's blog about McLeod Ganj. No need to repeat!

http://realtravel.com/mcleod_ganj-journals-j2871184.html

love, b