The days fly by. It is all too easy to sit and relax. Strange to choose Calcutta of all places to take a break!

My last day in Dhaka I didn't get around to doing very much. I spent some hours reading a book. I met Hamida. A Bangladeshi couchsurfer, for a coffee. That was nice, chatting with someone actually from Bangladesh. She studies in the U.S. And was only home for the summer to do an internship at an aid organization. With her were a couple Scots, newly arrived and also in the country to do aid work. I was able to introduce them to some of the ex-pats I met during my time in Dhaka. In the end we spent a time by the pool at the American club. Then I went to get my things and head off to the bus station.
The bus was a grand one. Huge comfortable seats and good AC. You get what you pay for I suppose. 670BDT is a lot of money in Bangladesh. My understanding was that this was for the whole journey to Calcutta. It wasn't to be at all. 550BDT was for the border and 120BDT was for services and taxes. I'm not sure what the services were but I didn't use them all. They basically have a rickshaw take you to the border from where the bus stops and go and process your exit tax. When leaving Bangladesh you must pay 300BDT to the government. I fortunately had just enough but it meant I didn't get to keep any 100BDT notes as a souvenir. The border was not a particularly nice one. Several buses were coming through at the same time and it took 3.5 hours to get from one end of the border to the other. All along the Bangladeshi side were people begging as well. It was good to get away from there. Bangladesh was an interesting country to visit. It is a poor place, even in the capital there were not so many cars on the road, mostly the streets are filled with cycle-rickshaws. Even though it is far poorer then India the people were more friendly in general. Those who were begging were more desperate but there weren't so many more of them.

Back in India on Sunday morning I made my way to Calcutta. I continued on a Green Line bus. Probably I could have gone a cheaper route. 120INR from the border isn't really a good deal. The bus wasn't as new or fancy as the one in Bangladesh. But the seats were still comfortable and the AC cold. The bus got into Calcutta at New Market, it arrived about lunch time and from there I only had to walk five minutes to be in the heart of Sudder St. and the traveling center of the city. There were the immediate calls for accommodation and I ignored them all and followed the street to where I believed I would find the Salvation Army Guest House. There it was, refuge. A place to relax. The Salvation Army in Calcutta is a mix. The staff are not unfriendly and there are so many foreigners in residence. Lots of people to chat with and pass the time. The downside is it is rather dirty and there is a problem with bed bugs. When I first arrived I chatted with David from the U.S. And he pointed out a bed in the dorm he believed was free of bed bugs. On Sunday I wandered the town, heading down to the Victoria Memorial, walking in the park. It is a beautiful building. With wonderful surroundings. Sadly while it is 10INR for locals the cost is 150INR for foreigners. This is to go inside the building. This is the pattern all over India for historical sites. I could maybe accept a rate a bit higher for foreigners. 15X the local price is disgusting. It is rude and in my opinion very poor taste. The Indian treatment of foreigners is such a mix. In some ways it is very positive, having a separate quota for foreigners on the train is very kind. Then there is the difference in prices for attractions which is not. To enter the gardens around the Victoria Memorial was only 4INR and this is what I did. I also wandered another park nearby with a 3INR entry charge.



After visiting the Victoria Monument. I took the metro back to Park St. Station near Sudder St. A metro always gives a bit of magic to a city for me. Going down the stairs and getting in a magic box only to appear somewhere else. I love the metros of the world. Sadly there are no tokens for the Calcutta metro although the design of the gate indicates there used to be tokens. It is cheap at 4INR for the shorter rides. As these things go Calcutta doesn't have the most beautiful of metros it is a bit dirty, but the stations have interesting themes and art work, and it is fast with frequent trains.



Around Sudder St. there are many different restaurants and in my wanderings of the area I have tried many of them. I keep coming back to one in particular though. Kalique Restaurant. It is on the next street down from Sudder and I have never seen another foreigner there during my time in the city. Usually it is full of locals and the food is excellent and cheap. There are a lot of restaurants that target the foreign community and the prices are often a few times the local restaurants. Having tried a few of them just for variety I can say that the food isn't really any better and the local place I have been eating has the best food in this part of town. The service is quick and they already know what I want when I come in, since I always get four paratha (a fried flat bread) and veggie curry.

The Salvation Army hostel is full of French Catholics. I have met many French people and my picture of the French is that they are a very secular people. Here in Calcutta there are a huge number of very religious French. It has been an interesting contrast to talk with them and spend a little time wandering the town.



On Monday morning I didn't do a whole lot, but Monday afternoon I went with Claire and a couple others to try and find Diya Den. A Mother Teresa house with the mission to care for crippled and retarded children. We didn't find it in the end but had an interesting time wandering that part of the city. After giving up the search we rested at a university for some time. It gave me a feeling of déjà vu to be there and I think it reminded me of somewhere in Rome. The buildings were quite beautiful.



Monday night I met Rudradeb, a local couchsurfer, for dinner. It was very nice to chat with someone from the area and him and his wife were very friendly. Perhaps most refreshing is they seemed to be on an equal footing. Perhaps my biggest complaint for this whole part of the world is the status of women. It is for the most part dismal. These two felt like they were equals to one another and this was a wonderful change. They invited me to come stay with them, which I found very tempting but I am lazy and I was already settled into the world of Sudder St. The country club where they were members reminded me of the other side of Dhaka. Most of Calcutta is poor and crowded but here there is space and tranquility. In the developing world these contrasts are so dramatic.

On Tuesday morning I also didn't do a whole lot. This has been pretty much my story the whole time I have been in Calcutta. I kept meaning to go and buy a ticket out of town but I wait and wait. I think to myself, I will do it in the afternoon. Then it is hot and I think I will do it the next day. Tuesday afternoon I wandered up to the government area. This was the capital of British India until it was moved to Delhi and the buildings are grand and very British. This is also where the foreign booking office is but I was too late to go there on Tuesday it having closed at 17:00. Walking back to Sudder St. I had the worst samosas I believe I have ever eaten. Usually I love samosas but these three were really quite foul. I should have just tossed them after the first bite, well they didn't make me ill at least.



On Wednesday I went with Lucy to Daya Din. It made me very sad to be there. The children didn't seem really human to me. In their eyes was nothing, they were empty. So I spent some hours flexing their arms and massaging them a bit. Probably this would have gotten easy with time. For me it brought no satisfaction. Maybe there is something else all these religious people get out of the experience. After I left I had no interest in coming back. It was interesting to talk with Lucy, her family is an old right wing political family and it was interesting to hear her thoughts on the current situation of France. Probably she will follow her family but still she is searching for her own direction politically. Her mother held a seat for the right wing in Bordeaux, but lost it in the last election.



On Thursday I didn't accomplish much besides reading and working on a bit of editing.

Friday morning I found bed bugs. Ugg! Disgusting creatures. So I moved from the Salvation Army to the Maria Hotel. It is the same price 70INR a night for the dorm, but it is a bit cleaner here. While I was moving I met a British girl who had just arrived, Andrea. So we went up to the foreign booking office of the train station together. Finally I had my ticket to Madras. I bought it for Sunday evening meaning to finish updating the web site before I leave Calcutta. After the booking office, a nice break from the heat of the city, we wandering for a while. We took a ferry across the river, only 4INR and it goes right to Howrah station, now I know how to leave Calcutta tonight. Walked over there for a while, and then took the ferry back. It was nice to see a bit more of the city. To look at the government area in the light of the morning instead of the evening, and to stretch my legs a bit.



On Saturday I spent a very long time on the computer and finished updating the blog up to early July. So I feel I've accomplished a small bit. Today I hope to bring the pictures up to date. I have started making pages for the new countries I made it to since I left China so perhaps I will finish this task today. Now I have again brought things up to date in writing as well. It feels good to write.

India is not my favorite part of the world. This is an interesting place. I have heard that you should love or hate South Asia. I feel neither. I don't like the culture. The caste system and gender relations are horrid here. The food is wonderful though. There are some very nice people and not everyone follows the worst of the system, but it is almost everywhere. It poisons the society. Here the population is still growing out of control. The landscapes are often beautiful. The architecture as well. Especially I am attracted to the remnants of British India. The colonial period is a romantic one for me. I see a lot of value in how it shaped the world.



In India so much is done by the muscle of man alone. I had seen cycle-rickshaws before but avoided them because I don't like to buy raw muscle. It makes me feel guilty in a way. Here there is often no choice but to use this transport. In Calcutta there are even rickshaws drawn by walking men. This is too much for me and I have not taken one of these. I might as well walk myself then have someone else do my walking for me. In the countryside there are an endless number of brick towers. These are kilns for making more bricks, distressingly these bricks, I have also often seen, are used to make gravel, by hand. This I can barely imagine. The work to make a brick by hand, then people sit with a hammer and break the brick apart into gravel. Here it feels that humans and human life have no value. There are too many people and not enough machines. Especially in Calcutta there are too many people. The street is their bedroom and toilet. It is a city of extremes in a country of extremes and I wonder how long before there will be a collapse.

Friday morning we had to prepare for Maeve's birthday party. This meant me and Sylvain, another guest of Maeve's, mostly stayed out of the way while she prepared endless things for her own celebration. Given how much work ones own party is I am not surprised that I never have these sorts of things myself. At about 11:30 we went to the riverside where we were supposed to find the boat. This party was to be basically a pot luck on the water. However the boat was nowhere to be found. By this time Maeve was getting a bit concerned and the greater number of us there endeavored to stay out of her way. It all worked out in the end. Someone was called, someone came who knew where the boat was and the rest of the guests arrived.



The cruise was a beautiful thing. Meandering down the river eating heaps of food and drinking more wine. I chatting for some time with the Swedish girl, Linda. She lived for some time in Lund. Just the city where I have some current fantasies about studying. Most of those on the boat seemed to be working for one NGO or another. So many aid workers in Bangladesh. There were a couple locals and Bangladeshis who had grown up overseas. I was again happy at my good fortune to fall into this group after many lonely days without any conversation at all.



After the boat some of us went to the British club to hang out by the pool for some time. It is the first time on this trip I have actually used my swimming trunks. Then we moved on to the American club where there was another 4th of July party. This one wasn't so interesting as the previous one but very patriotic regardless. To enter was 700BDT and of course those Bangladeshis in attendance were from the elite.

The food was ok. There being in particular a very tasty veggie lasagna. I chatted with the various folks from the boat trip and eventually we moved on to some after party. There I mostly talked with two British Bangladeshi sisters. One working for the BBC and one a publisher. Both professions that are probably pretty nice as these things go but I think both were not really satisfied with their careers. This to me is a bit worrying. I dream of something more concrete. Of having the stability of a REAL job, a career. I imagine it to be an endlessly satisfying path but even those in these lines seem often to not be so very satisfied with their work. It was a very long yet quite satisfying day.

On Saturday both I and Maeve were meant to join a game of ultimate frisbee. I set my alarm and woke at 8:00. After going to Maeve's room and trying to wake her for a moment I went back to bed.

I am at the Salvation Army guest house in Calcutta. Bedbugs and all. It is full of French Catholics doing volunteer work for the Mother Teresa organization. I am tempted to try this myself, but it sounds as if the sort of work that they are doing would rather horrify me. Cleaning the festering wounds of the poor. Cleaning the dying. Yesterday I went along with a few who were looking for a children's home, but in the end we couldn't find it.

Last Wednesday was 4th of July. After I spent the morning relaxing and writing I was off again into the chaos of Old Dhaka. I tried to go into a restaurant I had been in the night before. It had been a strange place, very dark and they asked me if I wanted to buy meals for one or two people. Then a guy asked me if I wanted a girl. I don't know if he worked at the restaurant or not, I don't think so but this place had a strange feel to it. It was the second restaurant I went to with this strangeness to it. But the food was pretty good and it is near the hotel where I stayed, so I went back. I was stopped by some nervous security guards who told me there was a private party on so I couldn't eat there. I really suspect that besides being a restaurant it is some sort of brothel as well. So then I had to find somewhere else to wander off to and find some food. As I was trying to figure the way a man took me under his wing and insisted I come along with him as he was going to the financial district, on the way where I was going. This is Bangladesh, people so very active in trying to help a stranger. Many times I would have people offer to come along in rickshaws to help me find what I was looking for. In some places this would be an uncomfortable feeling but in Dhaka it mostly felt only like kindness. So I went with this man and he paid for the rickshaw and directed it to the main mosque, where I decided to next take a look. This mosque isn't such a fancy place but it felt nice. Of course many people came and asked me where I was from and if I was a Muslim. They didn't mind that I wasn't only insisting I wash my feet before walking in the holiest part of the mosque. Only one man said “Hawai'i, oh America, you shouldn't be here.” The others were very nice. After that I went to the main post office near by, a guy who was at the mosque guided me there. This man didn't give me a good feeling at all however. He seemed to want to keep following me. Fortunately it started to rain and I wandered off under my umbrella while all the Bangladeshis waited under shelter for it too pass. I found a bakery and therefore lunch, a bank machine and net café. In Bangladesh I kept changing my mind on how long to stay and I didn't want to have extra taka to get rid of and so I went to the ATM a lot. At the net café I had a message from a Dhaka couchsurfer who had left Bangladesh. He gave me the address of a good friend of his in Dhaka and after a very short time she emailed me back saying there was a 4th of July party that very night, and they had a place for me to crash as well. So I called her on the phone to see how to get there and she said “I thought you were a girl.” The curse of my name, always people think it is a girls name. I really grow tired of it. It wasn't a big deal. The guy in the phone shop was nice, but I'm not sure about him. He didn't charge me for using the phone and gave me coffee while he had someone find an auto-rickshaw. Before this he mentioned it should be 70-80BDT where I was going but when it came along it asked 150BDT. So I wonder if he got a cut. I should have demanded they use the meter but I was in a hurry and really 150BDT is very little money. In the end it took almost an hour and Maeve, my new host in Dhaka, was quite worried by the time I found her flat. The party was interesting if a bit disturbing. Almost all the people there were U.S. Embassy staff and the feel and music was ultra-nationalistic. It was fun, I met a Swede and was able to practice a little Icelandic. It was nice to have a little red wine after not drinking any in quite some time. Mostly it was nice to see westerners for the first time since New Jalpaiguri, and have the first conversation since I met the Indian university students there. After the 4th of July party we went to visit an American Steve, who does aid work in Dhaka as so many others I met. We talked about politics and the world situation.



I had a ticket to leave Dhaka on Friday morning. The 4th was Maeve's birthday and she was having a party on Friday, so on Thursday I went to see about changing my ticket. I couldn't find the Green Line bus office in Gulshan, the international neighborhood of Dhaka, and so I went back to Old Dhaka to check out of my room. First I went walking along to find the river. After quite a long walk and exhausted by the smoke and crowding I turned back. I did have some wonderful success though. I found a real pay phone! The only time in Bangladesh I saw one. Also I bought replacement blades for my razor and shaving cream. The day before I spent ages with a cheap disposable razor and soap, it was hell! I grabbed by bag and rested a minute before checking out of the hotel. It was a strange place to be. A street of hardware stores. Every minute someone wanting a conversation. By spending just a couple days there it seemed the whole part of town knew where I was staying. I must have been the talk of the town. I went to the bus station, changing the ticket was a simple task. Finding the bus station wasn't. The rickshaw driver didn't actually know how to get there and so tried to overcharge me once he finally found the place. I only gave him 20BDT. After that I went to the parliament building. An interesting structure where there were news cameras and commotion. They were just arresting a former communications minister. I went to a mall, with a food court. Western food at nearly western prices. I ate at Taco Bell for the first time in some years. I thought a milkshake there would be like Western ones. It was not. Sadly being a thin milky concoction. The view from the top of the mall was good and after some time I left to find Maeve again. This turned out to be a difficult task. I just couldn't find an auto-rickshaw, or a taxi. I kept walking in the right general direction, I walked for an hour until I was lucky to come across a taxi just letting out it's charge. So I hopped in and went to the British club. Gulshan is really another world from Bangladesh. There are clubs for the different nations, there are fancy restaurants and endless gates and armed guards. Shops and almost clean streets. It was good to have a bite to eat and chat with more friendly people. The BBC corespondent for Bangladesh, John, was there. He is moving to Korea so I had a bit to chat about. A relaxing evening after the chaos of real Dhaka.

I'm sitting in my room in Dhaka. Since I had time at the train station a few days ago I was going to catch up then. Unfortunately using this keyboard thing attracts too much attention so I can't really use it in public.

My second day in Benares was a lazy one as I wrote before. In wandering I came across the burning ghats where a body was just being lit on fire. Everything to be dumped in the Ganges. Right at the burning Ghat there were people washing and playing in the water. At one point I saw a dead cow, and a few meters away people playing and washing in the water. Perhaps another reason I didn't go on a boat ride. I'm sure many rivers are very unclean, but this one is in a way too visible. Although just looking at the water it doesn't look bad at all as rivers go.



After wandering the city I had lunch and relaxed for some hours reading and writing. Sitting on the roof top restaurant of the Vishnu Rest House and watching the mighty Ganges flow by. Eventually it was time to make my way to the train station. I left quite early since my train wasn't leaving from Varanasi Station but from Mughal Serai, a junction some kilometers down the line. It was 20INR for a rickshaw to Varanasi Station and I just hopped on next train going in the direction of Mughal Serai. It was 18INR for a second class seat. In Mughal Serai I ate dinner and spent another while waiting, reading a book mostly. As the time approached for my train to leave I went looking for it, and ran into Fiona from Austria. She was also headed to Darjeeling by way of New Jalpaiguri and was in the bunk right above mine. So we waited together for our train and after some time it came, only about an hour late. My experience of Indian trains is so far that they are always late. Often very late. At first I was thinking how much nicer than Chinese trains they are. In China my experience was that the trains were always on time. Also in China I have only gone by hard seat class which is often crowded and uncomfortable for long trips. Indian trains are quite a bit cheaper than those in China. India in general is cheaper. I have been traveling mostly by 2nd class sleeper in India and not the 2nd class seats. For the 2nd class seat class they sell as many as will fit and not just the seats. The principle of the 2nd class sleeper is there is only supposed to be one person per bunk. Unfortunately what I have experienced is that while it isn't so crowded as 2nd class seat class there is often far more than one person per bunk. Also I always have to wake someone up who is sleeping on my bunk. On the plus side Indians don't smoke very much and don't smoke on the trains. So the air is fresher. The freshness is helped by there being no windows but only bars over the place where windows would be. Although from a safety standpoint this is very bad. In the case of a fire I think it would be quite scary, and I recall reading of some horrible cases where these bars have led to tragedy. There aren't only bars on trains. Pretty much everything is locked down. All the windows in the hotels where I have stayed for example. Also they put down locked gates at night. When I have left places early in the morning I have had to find someone to unlock the gate so I could leave. In an emergency situation I wouldn't want to be in a place like this. Well back to the trains.. Indians also don't spit and throw trash one the floor AS MUCH as Chinese, another plus. They are also very physical though. Again there seems to be little private space that I expect coming from a mostly Western place. So I am constantly woken as someone bumps against me walking by on the train. Or tries to sit on my legs, different problems depending on where my bunk is situated. Also there are the noisy people selling things. I'm afraid I whacked one tea seller with my shoe who not only started screaming "chai" or tea, at 3:50 in the morning but used my leg as a hand hold as he walked through the train. I get ahead of myself though. This happened on a train to Guwahati and I was writing about the train from Mughal Serai.



Me and Fiona got on our train for New Jalpaiguri and I woke up the men who where in our bunks. After a short time the conductor came along and told Fiona she had been bumped up to AC class, so I didn't have a traveling companion for the train after all. It would have been nice as I didn't have much luck with English speakers on this train ride. After I woke up in the morning I just read a book and watched the landscape pass by. Uttar Pradesh and Bihar are mostly flat, very flat and all I saw was under agricultural production. I wrote down some of the towns we passed by: Mansi, at 8:00 Pasraha, 8:25 Nara Yanpur, 8:40 Thana Bihpur, 9:00 Naugacha, 10:30 Katihar. Eventually the train came to the north of West Bengal and there were hills in the distance. It was mid-afternoon when the train finally came into New Jalpaiguri. I met Fiona again, she had befriended a group of Indians who were headed to Darjeeling as well. So we went along with the jeeps they rented although at 150INR each it wasn't a very good deal for Darjeeling. Easier than getting up to the motor pool in Siliguri and well it still isn't very much money! The road up to Darjeeling is beautiful. While Mongolia and Tibet often reminded me of Iceland. South Asia often reminds me of Hawai'i.



Up to Darjeeling there runs a toy train. The way is too steep and curved for a full size train so this small engine runs very slowly on a 1 meter track at a very slow pace, from Siliguri, right by New Jalpaiguri it takes nine hours for the train to reach Darjeeling. By car it takes only about three hours. So our jeep drove endlessly upwards curving here and there, passing over the tracks of the toy train time and again. We even passed by the train itself coming the other way, and also an unattached steam engine. Much of the time the landscape was lost in fog. With what a beautiful part of the world it is I cannot imagine what it is like when the fog lifts completely. So far my experience of the hill station areas is they are in amazing areas. I can see why the British held them in such high regard. While much of the Sub-Continent is unpleasantly hot these areas have perfect weather. The surroundings are beautiful, and there isn't the crush of overpopulation of the lower areas. It is true there were a lot less people during the British Raj but I imagine the situation was similar then. Teeming masses in the plains and a more relaxed atmosphere in the hills.



The jeep stopped in Kurseong and me and Fiona got some samosas for 2INR a piece. India is just wonderful food wise for me. Vegetarian food everywhere. Good food too! The winding road to Darjeeling was well posted with notices to drive safely. Not that many in India do so. It is another quite stressful place to be on the road. The number of close calls is immense. The notices where quite cute one being "If your married, divorce speed.". Mostly they were that sort of thing. It was growing dark as we came into Darjeeling and we suspected the driver took so long during the break to drop us at his favoured hotel and collect a commission. The idea of commissions is very strong in India. Everywhere people try to guide you to a restaurant, a place to sleep, a shop. So if you buy something you pay a higher price so the guide may get his reward, and almost always it is a man. Everywhere in South Asia women are in the background. There are less of them on the street. They are less likely to speak to you or interact in any way. This is not only my experience as a man, but that of women travelers I have met as well.



Coming into Darjeeling after dusk was beautiful. All the thousands of homes spread over ridges lit up. There was the appearance of stars on a blanket. Me and Fiona shopped around for a room. Places were asking 450INR or 300INR. We kept up until we found a place that would go down to 200INR. The Blue Diamond hotel. Not particularly beautiful, but decent. The room had an attached bathroom and even a TV. So not bad for 100INR each. We went to find some food and ended up eating potatoes in a very English pub right next to the hotel, Joe's. As in Nepal a single beer costs more than a meal in India. I don't drink so much and the idea of spending more for a beer than my nights accommodation or dinner strikes me as odd. It was nice to chat and relax with a beer though. After a long ride from Benares. We had to be back at the hotel by 21:30 when they locked the gate. So we went back and watched a movie on the tv. TV is really so addictive. Especially after months of not seeing one.

On Tuesday morning we wandered the town. Darjeeling is really very nice. It is cute, there aren't so many tourists, although it is the off season. People aren't so pushy. I first had to get some USD for Bhutan. I had some but not the 235USD I needed. This as it turns out is quite a hassle in India. As in Nepal I had to get out rupees from an ATM and then go to a private money changer. The banks won't change rupees into dollars only the other way around. Unless you have an exchange certificate. Which I don't have since I just got rupees from an ATM. The exchange rate wasn't nearly as good in India as in Nepal. So in the end it was unpleasant. Also he tried to give me only large bills, which can be a bother down the road. So I had to come back in the afternoon to get the rest of my money.



Me and Fiona wandered the streets looking for the top of the town, or at least the center. A lot of Darjeeling feels very British. The old buildings especially. We wandered ever upwards and in the end we found ourselves inside a military camp where no foreigners are allowed. I imagine we weren't the first to end up there since they weren't very dramatic as they pointed towards the exit. It seems a poorly guided camp that you can wander into the back way by some clear walking paths. Fortunately no one cared that we had been taking plenty of pictures unaware we were in a military area. So we wandered back downwards. Darjeeling would be a nightmare if there is ever ice on the roads. They are all very steep. We had lunch at a Bhutanese restaurant with a very stoned proprietor. He wandered in and out starting disjointed conversations and him and his friends were practicing a guitar and listening to stoner music. The food was pretty good and was a nice look at what I would see in Bhutan a couple days later. I tried to buy some socks since mine were all dirty, but with no luck. The sellers didn't want to bargain at all. In Nepal it was quite easy to find a place to do laundry. Not so in India. Everywhere I have gone charges by the piece rather than by weight. By piece is expensive. So I do my own laundry when I can, but if I am going too fast without stopping then there isn't time for it to dry. This was my problem in Darjeeling. Plus it is cool and damp there so clothes would probably take a week to dry. We went to a tea shop and sampled some fancy tea. Fiona bought some for friends and family back home. We got milkshakes, advertised as ice cream milkshakes. This meant a milky drink with a scoop of ice cream in it. So my search for a proper milkshake continues. It was a nice day of wandering Darjeeling. We had another break at Joe's and returned to the Blue Diamond by 21:30 once again, and once again we spent some hours watching tv.



On Wednesday I woke early and went to find some breakfast and check my email. In Darjeeling I got an excellent job offer for Saudi Arabia. Unfortunately as with work in Antarctica I must be hired from the U.S. So it looks like I might be headed home to Hawai'i this summer after all. In Darjeeling the internet cost 30INR per hr, verses 20INR per hr in Benares. Samosas for breakfast are perfect although at 3INR in Darjeeling they are slightly more expensive, ha. I checked out of the Blue Diamond while Fiona stayed on another night after we agreed with the hotel that 100INR for her was fair. After a failed attempt at getting a train down to Ghoom, it was booked, I hopped on a jeep for Siliguri for 80INR. The route it took down the mountain was different than the one coming up. This one didn't parallel the train tracks. It was also a pretty trip, passing through Pankhambi and Gardihura on the way. I got to Siliguri just to see the Bhutan government bus leaving for the border. It worked out alright though, there was another one leaving in about 2 hours. So I bought the ticket for 60INR and wandered the town. Most things were closed due to a strike called by the communists. Over time I have come to have less and less sympathy for communists. It is an interesting ideology but those who practice it seem to be all very unpleasant, and those who come to power under its banner seem to be almost entirely murderous thieving bastards. Strikes by communists are common in South Asia. In Nepal they blocked the road a couple times. In Siliguri last Wednesday they closed all the shops. I found a place to eat and had a thali for 15INR. All you can eat rice, curry and dal. Fortunately I went to the bus station a little early because the 14:00 bus left at 13:50. The countryside going to the Bhutan border is flat tea country. This is the part of India where much of the tea for the world comes. The bus was quite comfortable by South Asian standards. It passed through Jalpaiguri, Maynaguri and Banarhat on the way to Jaigon. All these town names are just the ones I notice and jot down. There are endless other towns and villages that I never know the name of. In Jaigon I hopped off just at the Bhutan gate, the border with Bhutan. After looking around for a room for a bit I got an offer of 100INR. Not bad, and better than the hundreds more the other places asked. Then I wandered the streets of Jaigon looking for an internet café, I was told to go to the Bhutan side of the border. I did try but it is definitely no longer possible to enter Bhutan without a visa not even the border town of Phuntsholing. This apparently used to be possible. It is even mentioned in the Lonely Planet. Eventually I found one at 30INR per hr, and had an email from the tour company in Bhutan. My guide Sonam was on his way and I got his phone number. After this I returned to my hotel and had dinner there for 15INR. On the menu it gave the room rate as being 80INR and so I told them this is what I would be paying in the morning.



On Thursday morning they were angry at the 80INR but that is all I gave. I was annoyed they said 100INR for a room when they had 80INR posted. Usually there is nothing posted and you just negotiate. Usually for half or a third of the original asking price. I went to the border to see if my guide was there, he wasn't but the border guard went with me to a phone booth on the Bhutan side so I could call him. He said he would be there in half an hour. So I wandered Jaigon some more and then sat and chatted with the border guard. Mostly he said he was there to keep out illegal Indian workers and Nepalese. Bhutan deported some tens of thousands of ethnic Nepalese about 15 years ago and since then they have been trying to come back to Bhutan. As the border guard described it the king of Bhutan told the Nepalese that they had to adopt Bhutanese customs and dress, they refused and there was some violence. I have mixed feelings about this. I think if it happened in a Western country there would be a HUGE uproar. But if Bhutan is ever considered at all then it is seen as this magical land of peace and harmony. As I have written about some in the past this double standard annoys me. I think the West should also do more to force those immigrants from other cultural groups to conform or perhaps face deportation. However those deported from Bhutan were born there and not immigrants. For a while the Bhutanese border guards just let everyone through. Then they started checking people and a long line quickly formed. I have noticed everywhere in South Asia that authorities are very nice and friendly towards me, but towards locals they are rude and unkind. Eventually Sonam showed up and we went to find the immigration officer since the office wasn't open yet. He was busy getting his kid off to school so we went to have breakfast. It feels too convenient to have a guide and it definitely isn't my style of travel. He went off to figure out paperwork and I relaxed and wandered around. Before I even went into Bhutan I needed to get stamped out of India though. As with the border with Nepal the Indian immigration point is very easy to miss. I imagine it would be a hassle if I didn't have that stamp though! I read that the border between Bhutan and India is a dramatic one and with this I agree. The Indian side is chaotic, crowded and dirty. In Bhutan it is relatively clean and there are much less people. The dress is a bit different. With far fewer wearing Western clothes. We got on the 10:00 bus for Thimphu and started off. I paid 235USD all inclusive, so my meals, transport etc were paid for. I noticed this six hour bus ride cost 174INR. Bhutan has it's own money but it is just Indian rupees with another name.



Bhutan is a country of hills. It is also a country of conformity. All the buildings follow a certain style and the signs on them do as well. Mostly white writing on a blue background, and usually no pictures. It makes for a beautiful clean appearance, but it is as I pondered it more unsettling. This was pretty much my feeling of Bhutan as well. A wonderful place, especially my first impression, but in the end unsettling. The road went up through tropical forest. Through clouds. Endlessly curving. From the border to Thimphu is only 172km, but it was supposed to take six hours and in the end it was more like seven. The road has few bridges. It will wind all the way into a valley and then all the way out of it. Zig zagging slowly up the hills. We stopped once for lunch and was pretty good. Quite similar to other food of the region. Maybe more like Tibetan food than anything else. The Bhutanese see themselves as being closer in culture etc to the Tibetans than anyone else. I think the Indian worry that China had it's eyes on taking Bhutan as well are probably quite valid. I am glad that this didn't happen and I imagine Tibet would probably be similar to Bhutan had China left it alone. Thimphu is small and all the buildings look quite similar. Even in the countryside along the road the building style was the same. Quite large multi apartment houses quite separated from each other. All along the way were also Indian labourers working on the road. From what I saw and talking with people, Indians do all the hard work in Bhutan. As in much of the world there is a richer country next to a poorer one and this unhealthy relationship develops. The Indians don't live in the grand Bhutanese houses though. They have squatter camps hidden down slope from the road. These are makeshift and made of various waste materials. There was a immigration checkpoint in the middle of the trip to Thimphu. One more little thing to make it feel controlled. It was only little things, but there felt to be an aura of control. The police in Bhutan don't carry guns, at least I didn't notice any. The people seem a lot freer and richer than elsewhere I have been so far in South Asia, there is this funny feeling though. In India and Nepal the police are all over the place and always have weapons. Often WWII rifles. I've seem them with shotguns and machine guns as well. And also with sticks they are liberal with using to get peoples attention. In Bhutan there is none of this. I wandered around Thimphu on my own. I would meet Sonam again at 8:00 Friday morning for a tour of the town. I was happy to have time to myself for wandering. It is a pretty place. The people too were nice, they didn't stare at all. When a sudden rain hit I started a conversation with a couple local guys and we chatted for a couple hours. One was hoping I would send tourists his way. It seems many people want to be tour guides in Bhutan. It does pay well. I had a coffee in his sisters shop. They found me some old Bhutanese coins that no one really uses any more. It was nice. The guide also works at the parliament. As it turns out I just missed the closing ceremony. It happened the day I arrived. It is only a mock parliament though, they are testing out the whole concept and plan to have the first election next year. It should be a big year, there is also the 100th anniversary of the monarchy. I went back to the hotel for dinner, the prices were about the same as India although again I didn't pay anything as it was included in the tour. I had some mushroom and cheese dish that was quite good and chatted with Taishi, a guy working at the hotel. He lived in Korea for a while as well, he was studying cooking there. Bhutanese for the most part seemed educated and open minded. At least those I came across. They can even date unlike elsewhere in South Asia. I didn't talk with any women though. In this way it is similar to South Asia. The women didn't seem approachable for conversation. Actually the next day in the bus I was seated next to a woman and we started chatting. Then the men next to her, who were strangers, said oh here you can sit by the window. It wasn't at all obvious but it sure felt like they just didn't like a foreign man speaking to one of their women. As I said a very nice place, but unsettling. After dinner I went to my very nice room, very clean, with a tv, bathroom, and hot hot water. I don't really take hot showers but after some days of nothing but cold I don't mind it so much. In Darjeeling we got one bucket of warm water. So I relaxed in my clean bed in Thimphu and watched the news for a bit before sleeping.



On Friday morning I was supposed to meet a friends cousin for tea. I have an internet pen pal from Thimphu who lives in Bangkok. Otherwise I would have visited her and maybe stayed longer and not had to do the 200USD night dealy. Her cousin sadly didn't show up. So I wrote some post cards and read an Indian newspaper. I tried calling but her phone was off. When Sonam came we started the tour. We drove up to a point overlooking the city, I like these high points and it was nice to look over the town, in a valley surrounded by pine forests. We visited a monastery. A little reserve where the national animal of Bhutan wanders about. The story is that it was created by a monk with the head of a goat and body of a cow. Really just this rather large goat like animal by my eyes. We went to the post office and another monastery. Then I wandered on my own for a while, and sat in the square to write. This is when I mentioned not seeing any foreigners. Of course right after that I saw a hippie couple off in the distance (I wonder how they could afford Bhutan, most hippies I've met are pretty poor), and then I saw a girl walking into a shop. Then I went to meet Sonam for lunch. At the same little hole in the wall place was that same guy I saw the day before that I thought looked Japanese, I was quite satisfied to hear him speaking Japanese to his Bhutanese table mate. For lunch I ate more of the mushroom and cheese dish and cheese momos. A sort of dumpling. Good food. Then we went to the bus station and waited for the bus back to the border. I offered to just go alone since it seemed silly for Sonam to do another long round trip, but he had to come with me. It is the law of Bhutan for me to have my guide. The bus back was a lot more tiring than coming up. Mostly I think it was the businessman that ended up sitting next to me after they made the woman move. He was fat and I felt squeezed in. Also for hours he muttered a mantra or something to himself. Mantras aren't inherently annoying, but when some guy is muttering them for hours as if he is speaking to himself then it is unbelievably annoying. We stopped for tea along the way and then made the border just as it was about to close, whew. I said goodbye to Sonam and went to Indian immigration just as the man working there was headed out the door, he was very cheerful and seemed to think it was quite funny I caught him just as he was leaving. So the formalities settled I went off to find a room for the night. My target was once again 100INR and in the end, after a bit of searching I found a place with a starting offer of 100INR. It was pretty shitty and I got in for 80INR in the end. Then I wandered about looking for dinner and after giving up slept very soundly.



On Saturday morning I had to wake someone up to let me out of the hotel. It was locked down tight. Once again I thought of the danger if there were a fire or something. Oy vey. I was in luck as there were some people waiting for the bus to Siliguri just by the hotel and the next bus came along after about 15min. I had learned on Thursday I could have gotten a bus straight from Darjeeling to Jaigon, three hours. Instead of the three hours down to Siliguri, waiting there for two hours and another three to Jaigon. Oh well. Also where I was at Jaigon was much closer to Guwahati, my next destination. However I wanted to go by train and not bus and in Darjeeling the train worker said I could only make a reservation from New Jalpaiguri. This being right by Siliguri. So back to New Jalpaiguri I went. This time I had a bad seat and was again next to a fat man. I noticed one open in the back and moved there. After I hopped off the bus I started talking with Vanita, a Goan girl from Delhi. She and a group of university friends were just coming back from a holiday in Bhutan. Indians don't have to pay the 200USD a day deal to be tourists there. Vanita is just finishing up her poli. sci. degree and I had a lovely time chatting with her. It was the first time I had a real conversation on the trip with a South Asian woman. So I got to hear a different perspective. They were going to the train station as well so we shared a auto rickshaw for 20INR each, then we sat in a restaurant for some hours while they waited for their train to Delhi. The one they were hoping for didn't work out but they found another slower one leaving around the same time. I have some female friends who have had bad experiences with men in South Asia. Men, quite often, will say things or do things sexual. They will grab women, they will ask for sex, ask to buy sex, etc. My belief was that they just treated foreign women this way, talking with Vanita I found they treat Indian women the same way. This is at the same time sad and refreshing to hear in a sad way. Sad this is how they treat women, but at least it isn't only foreigners. In general the young educated upper middle class Indians seem very western. Even more so than young educated upper middle class Chinese. They can date and party, although they have to be careful and their families might get a bit angry. Among this group caste is not at all pc and I think I offended her a little asking if they were all brahmans. She said she didn't know. I also chatted with a guy from Benares finishing his maths degree. It was a nice way to wait for my train. Then they left and I wandered around. There isn't much near the New Jalpaiguri station, it was a boring place to wait and I wished very much for a book. When I bought my ticket I was number six on the waiting list. I got a seat no problem but the train was very late. Eventually I got out this keyboard to write but it attracted too much attention. So it was impossible to actually do so. I ended up talking with a big group of military recruits who were kind of stupid as too many military I meet are. One interesting contrast with my conversation of the morning was they proudly told me they were all brahmans. So for the educated it is not pc, but for other groups it is very important. I didn't ask about caste but they brought it up. It was actually very uncomfortable. Having about 30 guys surrounding me asking question after question. They were very friendly but I still didn't like it. Eventually there lieutenant came along a chased them away for which I was very happy. I had to exchange names and shake hands with about 20 of them. This seems quite a big deal all over the region. First there was a message that my train was two hours late "inconvenience caused is deeply regretted" in the end it was just shy of three hours late. I suppose I am glad in the end it was so late as it arrived in Guwahati at 5:30 in the morning and that was already too early for me. This was the horrible ride where I was on the upper bunk along the corridor. So perfectly placed as a handhold, ARGH! And it was the morning for selling tea before 4 o'clock!



Guwahati wasn't much. I wandered the town. Went along by the Brahmaputra river which was quite nice. It was too early for anything to be open. I read in a couple books it should be about 10INR for a boat out to Peacock Island in the river where there is an interesting temple. The only offer I got for a ride was 500INR I didn't bother doing anything but laugh at that. Eventually I found a hotel with a restaurant they opened for me. It was 7:00 by this time and I took my time with breakfast and tea reading a newspaper until 8:30 hoping more would be open. I shopped around for the bus to Agartala but 460INR was all I heard as to the price. So I got a ticket for 10:00, and found a place to check email while I waited. The bus was full and sweaty until we got going at 10:30. I was told it would take 24hours, although this was rather optimistic in the end. I was happy to get on the 10:00 bus as one place told me there wasn't a bus until 17:00, always in India ask multiple places. People lie very easily. Soon after leaving Guwahati the bus left Assam state and left the plains again.



The hills of Meghalaya are beautiful as hills are in this part of the world. I can see why the capital of British Assam was at Shillong. Shillong has some British flavour too it although not a whole lot. We stopped along the way for lunch and I got a veg roti for 25INR. All you can eat flat bread, dal and curry. Yum! The landscape of Meghalaya could be Scotland, as I have read it described. The towns are less crowded and as in other hill areas it feels more relaxed and it is cleaner. We stopped again for dinner and I got some samosas. Very expensive at 4INR a piece. I wonder if they got a commission. I didn't get it at the place we stopped by though. There they were asking 5INR for a samosa. From the evening the bus ride became endless. For hours it would stop, I don't know the reasons. This continued in the morning. Here I think we entered rebel held territory. Or at least communist. All buses would stop, while other traffic went through. And guys in jeeps with bandannas and machine guns drove around. Also they were handing out pamphlets and playing some sort of rant through a loud speaker. No one on the bus I tried asking spoke any English. Some villages had Indian flags and some Communist ones. I wonder what the situation is there. The whole region seems to be full of military. Army trucks and army people. One drunk guy from Rajasthan I talked with a Guwahati was there for the army. Most of those on the bus had army suitcases if not uniforms. In my travels I have come to see less universal good in democracy and less universal bad in dictatorships. It seems poor dictatorships are often run better, and the people mostly better off than poor democracies. India feels to be in many ways a pretty big mess, certainly when compared to China. China is a dictatorship (calling itself Communist but this is a joke) and India a democracy. I think the Chinese government in the past was horrid and far worse than the Indian, but today while not great the Chinese government is unfortunately better in my opinion than the Indian one. So I did not arrive in Agartala at 10:00 as I optimistically thought was a possibility but at 14:00. I suppose it could have been worse, it was a very unpleasant bus journey and I just wanted to push on to Dhaka. Perhaps I should have spent more time in Agartala though. It is a nice quiet town without many tourists. In fact I haven't seen any westerners since I was at New Jalpaiguri station on Saturday. I wandered around town for a couple hours, taking a long look at the beautiful Ujjayanta Palace. Entry was free although they had to look at my passport. It is also the state capital building for Tripura. I'd read you can't go inside the building but I had no problem wandering all around. After that I took a rickshaw for the border, or tried to with the help of a local. We agreed 10INR and then he took me to some other guy who spoke English to say 10INR more for the border. This is very little money but on principle is annoying. So I paid the first guy nothing to his protests and got another ride to the border, for 10INR. The border between Tripura and Bangladesh is beautiful and so photogenic. It felt like a place where it would not be a good idea to take a picture though so I didn't try. It is just a normal road split by a border. It doesn't feel like a natural one at all and it must have been strange when it appeared in the 1940s. Going through was problem free but slow. Officials on both sides offered to change money at very bad rates. I should have gotten 850BDT for 500INR but the offers started at 600BDT and went up to 750BDT. So I decided to try my luck in the town. The rickshaw wanted 40INR to get there and I said no, I hitched a ride on a motorcycle for nothing, but then changed 500INR with him for 750BDT, so it worked out ok. There didn't seem to be a place to change money in town, except the bank that was already closed. My ride really wasn't eager to change money and while it wasn't a good rate I think it was still a genuine favor to me. I bought a train ticket for Dhaka at 45BDT, and waited the half an hour before the train was due to leave. This ended up being an hour late but oh well, that is South Asia. Bangladeshis are very very friendly. Rather overwhelmingly so. I don't think they see many foreigners at all. I signed into a book when I entered and I was one of four foreigners going through that border in the past two weeks. There was an American, a Brit and an Italian also on the page I signed in on. People crowded around me constantly and now and then an authority figure would shoo them away. Some begging, this being worse than India. Most listening to whoever I am speaking with, and always there are people eager for conversation. It is very very friendly but also tiring. A mango seller insisted I have a mango. The only English he knew is the phrase "What is love". I think that is what he was saying. It sounded more like "What is law.". Mostly I hung out at his stall waiting for my train, while one person after another came to ask where I am from. I say Hawai'i which of course no one has heard of. I get the feeling this is not a good place to say the United States. So far one person understood Hawai'i and he immediately said oh America and looked angry and walked off. Everyone else just smiles and has seemingly no clue where Hawai'i is. Although if I say its an island they think I said Ireland which is fine by them. Mostly people guess Hawai'i is in Europe. So finally the train came, I had no seat, but some man got the conductor to find me one, then I should tip him 20BDT so I did. Then about 20min later he bumped me up to a higher class seat. Really comfortable seats, with fans, and a break from conversation. When I got on more people wanted to try there English and well they are just so friendly. Plus more beggars. One guy gave me a boxed drink and told me about his time working in Iraq. He loved it, and he really liked the American military, he worked with a lot of them and said they were very nice. So when the conductor came it was a relief to just sit and rest, a nice smooth train ride and then Dhaka. I gave him a 15BDT tip for the better seat but I think maybe it was supposed to be 50BDT because while he smiled he seemed disappointed. I called a couchsurfer in town, but he didn't have any recommendations for lodging, and couldn't offer any himself. So when I got to town I went looking for a place recommended at wikitravel. The first one didn't accept foreigners but the second did. So this is where I sit now. 100BDT a night, it is comfortable if a bit dirty. My own private bath although no hot water. I've washed my clothes and wandered the city. This morning I have just relaxed though. I am doing nothing much and it is good.



When I arrived in Dhaka the immediate feel was chaos. It was 22:00 and there were beggars and such. I walked away from the station and asked at the first hotel I saw. Their cheapest was 325BDT and the next hotel didn't take foreigners. I was tired and hit away the hands of beggars and someone trying to take me to another hotel. I walked a bit more and then chatted a bit with a shop owner. He told me how far my hotel was and how much I should pay the rickshaw. So I went to the right street and handed over the taka. I didn't count my change and was charged 26BDT instead of 20BDT. I don't mention these tiny prices because I am annoyed, but it is funny. The people on the street were friendly and talkative as they are here in Bangladesh and I found the Hotel Sugandha International after the Grameen said no foreigners. However wikitravel had the address wrong. It is at 243/244 Nawabpur, not 24. This isn't very far from 24 strangely enough. The logic of the street numbers in Dhaka is not one I understand. Numbers can change direction and jump around. Although they are mostly orderly. Being in a proper bed for the first time in a few nights was nice. I tend to push too hard and travel too fast when I am on my own.



Yesterday I set out to find an ATM and an internet café. This took quite some time. Actually just finding food took quite some time. Bangladesh isn't the veggie friendly place India is, also much fewer people speak English. So I wandered the city asking for directions now and then and often being pointed in a new direction. After a while I found an ATM that would take a foreign card, there are heaps of banks, but most said my card wouldn't work before I even tried. Found an internet café and wandered some more. Eventually I came to the bus station and checked out routes to the beach and Calcutta. Then I went to take a break and think about my plans. I tried contacting the American couchsurfer a few times with no luck and realized the Bangladeshi couchsurfer said she was out of town this week. The constant celebrity status is tiring so I went back to the station and bought a ticket to Calcutta for Friday morning. So I have today and tomorrow to wander the city and then I take off for India again.

I'm in New Jalpaiguri for the second time. Just waiting for the bloody train which is two hours late.