My Four Full Moons

Before I can write anything about Madagascar I need to figure out how to frame my time here. So, in the meantime, I thought I'd share where I've been during the astronomical manifestation of a complete lunar cycle.

Full Moon No. 1:

Walking along the famous crescent beach of Port Douglas, Australia. It is one of the only places in the world where the rainforest extends to the sand and surf.

Full Moon No. 2:

The hilltribe region of northern Thailand in a luxury jungle bungalow near Chang Dao cave.

Full Moon No. 3:

Thame Monastery at 14,500 ft. a two hour hike outside of the Sherpa capital of Namche Bazar in the Himalayas of Nepal.

Full Moon No. 4:

A traditional Malagasy village on the outskirts of the Ankarana National Park in Madagascar in a primitive thatched roof hut.

All wildly romantic and exotic. All...by myself.

Mauritius

I know Spain and France aren't the global powerhouses they were back in the day. The day being 16th to 18th century history. But God love 'em, they sure did know how to colonize. Granted, the British gave us America...but that's it. The Spanish and the French gave us paradise. See, Spain had the same ambition as Great Britain. Global domination and such...but the French, well, they just colonized places where they thought it would be cool to party. Mauritius and its sister Indian Ocean islands are beautiful. The people are pleasant the food is great and the lifestyle is a perfect mix of local island flair and European sophistication. Not sure where the British went wrong in India.

Actually, that's just a joke. Delhi proved to be the positive second chance I was hoping for when it came to my feelings on India. Every person I dealt with in Calcutta and Delhi were quite helpful and personable. Barring the retarded airport personnel and 2 hour wait to get through customs, I left India feeling like I'd like to go back someday and really spend a fair amount of time there. It also helped to meet up with my friend Eva and her daughter Laura who made my brief stay in Delhi a good one.

Alright then, I head to Madagascar tomorrow and then on to Italy. Africa is on hold until fall '08. So everyone who is interested in going to Kenya, Botswana, Namibia and Zambia, get your names on the list for that trip. I'll organize it, you just show up.

Wash My Love

The angry is gone. A week in the sun 'n surf and I'm ready to pass through India en route to Madagascar...with no hard feelings. Thailand makes a great decompression chamber. Plus, my weight is back up and that was the big concern...not being fit for the upcoming mountain bike tour through northern Madagascar.

I did go a little overboard. Instead of staying in a cheap hut on the beach in Ko Samet. I found a pricey poolside villa on the beach outside of Ban Phe. So, I missed out on the backpacker crowd and had a toilet that flushed. Whatever. I'll be back on the cheap again staying in a tent and huts and local villages in Madagascar. I'm just gonna chalk this little visit up to prep work and training. Conditioning via steak and whisky.

That's it for now. More later.

Filling in Some Blanks

I need to back track. Or, back trek, as it were. See, after my mountain meltdown I never wrote a post about the group I was traveling with before trekking on my own. It was a dynamic mixed bag of characters who hailed from the Boston and Rhode Island areas, respectively. There was Jonathan and Sara and Adrian. Edward and Jenny. George and Kate. Another Kate. And my impromptu roommate, Ralph.

If there were ever a top 5 list of environments that encourages immediate bonding, the himalayas would be 1 or 2. You really get to know one another over Sherpa tea and yak dung fires. But what I appreciated most about this group was everybody's enthusiasm and determination when things got a little tough. It wasn't until I was on my own that I realized how much they helped push me through my own anxieties. I only hope that I was able to contribute a little fun and some positive vibes to everyone else's experience.

Now, here's a quick update. I know I was ragging on India a little bit ago but I'm done with that. I wasn't being entirely fair to her or to me. Wedging such a wildly intense country in between a 17-day trek in Nepal and a 10-day mountain bike ride in Madagascar just wasn't fair. I wasn't able to decompress nor was I able to regain the weight I lost from the trek (which was a concern given the upcoming mtn bike ride). I also wasn't able to focus on India and all of its good elements. It really is a trip all its own. And that's how I want to experience it some day.

So, I left.

Throw enough money at a situation and 24 hrs later you can find yourself waking up on a beach in Southern Thailand with a bowl of fresh fruit, steak dinner and enough whisky to put Xanax out of business. The revelation to head back to Thailand took place in Bodh Gaya, India...where the Buddha enlightenment...hardly a coincidence if you ask me. I've been here since the 8th and fly back through India on the 15th. Other than rearranging a few flights here and there I've done absolutely nothing except for the abovementioned beachcombing...and swimming. And I don't feel the least bit bad or lazy. I think that might be a first for me on this trip.

Pain India Ass

Now this really isn't a fair assessment of India because I've only been through 2 of its poorest states but still here's what I've decided...India is like one of those dominatrices that's really a submissive. You know the ones, wild and somewhat unruly, taunts you with obscenities until you pull their hair and smack 'em on the ass with a bamboo cane. Maybe throw in some hot wax until they understand that you're the boss. That's India.

The thing is, I only got to the hairpulling stage. See, if I were Indian I'd be doing the wobbly-bobbly head nodding they do when they are either confused or feel the need to acknowledge your existence but not your complaint. I just don't get India. I mean I'd like to eventually smack its ass but to what end?

Here's what gets me. They have an incredibly burgeoning IT industry yet they're telecom networks are for shit. Just a step up from a rotary phone. They have some of the best doctors and medical facilities in the world but they live in absolute squalor and filth at such a tremendous scale it's mindboggling. They have a richly diverse and epic history with legendary treasures and monuments yet they try to nickle and dime you to death with constant scams and they seemingly value very little. It's hard to wrap my head around it.

Like I said though, this isn't entirely fair. It would be like someone going to the deep south and making the generalization that all Americans suck apple sauce through straws and enjoy the intimate company of goats.

So, I'll give India another chance but not before swinging through Thailand to procure a gimp mask and whip to get her back in line.

Laura, don't read this post to James or Aidan. Not sure you'll want to explain all of the S&M references.

Ghats, Gnats, Gtraffic

Varanasi is intense. The traffic makes Jarkata look organized. The pollution makes Kathmandu look like a biodome. The wheeling and dealing makes Trump look like a chump. But all-in-all it is an incredible experience.

One of the big jokes at Wildman Whitewater Ranch is: Why don't Indians know how to swim? Because there's no whitewater on the Ganges. You have to do it in a good Indian voice to get the full affect...and the laughs. (Related sidenote, no Indian here who speaks English sounds anything like the Indians we make fun of in the U.S. Go figure.) Anyway, the truth is, there is no whitewater on the Ganges. I know, because I got to paddle down it the other day. It's the best way to see all of the fabled ghats as well as the cremation areas where they burn their dead and make offerings to the river. People also bath and wash their laundry along the shoreline. As do the water buffalo...sans the laundry part. Sewage from the city also dumps into the river and married couples come down to get blessed in the waters as well. It's a jarring spectacle of beauty and...well, I'm not sure there's a word to describe the apparent insanity...but it is something to behold.

Ganges a Go Go

Alright, after a 12-hour bus ride from Kathmandu to Sunauli, I managed to walk across the India border with four new friends in tow. Granted, I didn't get a pic of the 'Welcome to India' gateway because in addition to my new friends we had no less than 2 billion anxious cab drivers and bus ticket vendors just waiting to grab some of that elusive green out of our pockets. After some negotiating which at one point including free Orange Fanta, we all piled into a jeep and took a 5-hour ride to Varanasi.

Varanasi isn't one of those towns you want to roll into in the middle of the night without an idea of where you are going to stay. Fortunately, we found a decent guesthouse near the Ganges River. It was down a dark, rat infested labrynith lined with sleeping homeless people and caked with cow shit. For 200 rupee I had a fairly clean room and a bed. Granted, the bed was a slab of wood with a sheet over it. Little bit of a surprise to the ol' tailbone.

I have found a yoga center that I like and will be doing that for the next several days before slowly making my way to Delhi. I'll post pics when I can. Like Kathmandu, you see some whackass shit everywhere you look.