learningtheworld.com

Living a Traveling Dream

Administrator — Sun, 29 Jan 2006 06:40:23 +0000

A Back Packing Odyssey

Administrator — Sat, 28 Jan 2006 19:34:44 +0000

McLeod Gang, Prayer Wheels

Originally uploaded by Learning The World.

What do they say about getting there being half the fun?
This ninth overnight train or bus journey was meant for thirty minutes of comedy sitcom.

You wouldn’t expect to be standing on the sidewalk at six when the booking agent laid down the law for a four PM departure. But it’s Delhi and a runway of garbage beside the sidewalk is a norm in some neighbourhoods where garbage collection is more art than science.

Despite a ripe aroma the ice cream man is doing brisk business. Soon five men start pushing their tired 50-seat passenger bus in an effort to jump start it. “Neejehang” I spurt outforth the umpteenth time as the professional beggars start their wave of friendly assaults.

Soon a huge suitcase breaks from a baggage handlers flimsy rope and crashes to the ground narrowly missing some innocent bystanders. I sigh a breath of relief that there
will be no “Bus passenger decapitated by flying suitcase” headline.
The baggage handlers struggle to tie down the beast of a suitcase and succeed apart from the orange and yellow clothes that blow in the wind. Calmness seems to emit from the India core as the suitcase owners seem more concerned about the baggage handlers than their violated suitcase.

The humorous aura takes a demented turn when one disturbed traveller goes into spastic conniptions. The ticket handler is keeping our bus tickets to obtain payment from travel agents but that is unacceptable for this traveller that is now foaming at the mouth. The traveller is out on bail or on video acting in a psychological experiment testing national calmness amongst Indians. This “mate” spouting Brit traveller who calls himself American goes on in hysterics until we board the bus.

An Australian comments that the lunatic traveller is likely a Lonely Planet writer researching India’s omnipresent spiritual nature. Strangely Tristan, the lunatic, tells us that he is related to India’s most famous cricketer, Sachin Tendulkar, and actually writing a book for Lonely Planet on Shiva’s representation in Hindu temples in Northern India. Right and I am the Dalai Lama’s albino brother with a perm.

Our bus arrives as promised for a third time at six o’clock and we board the bus with our battle caps on for this twelve hour journey. We claim our seats and see our neighbour strangely hiding under his blanket in an intense conversation with someone. It soon becomes evident that the blanket man is mating with his whiskey bottle and in conversation with himself.

We comment how lucky we are to have Tristan the irritable western behind us and the drunk blanket ghost beside us. Thankfully the friendly Australian social worker sits down in front of us providing some karmic balance to our unique journey.

The bus embarks and Delhi’s smell ripens putting pressure on nostrils to implode. Our blanket clad ghostly neighbour seems to like the noziating smell and his voices soon becomes bark like. Eventually our conversation about the inner workings of the Australian health care system is interrupted by a slow and constant drip from our mad neighbour to the right. I look down the aisle and see a small tide of liquid moving towards a Israeli women sleeping on the floor in the aisle. The sleeping traveller jostles and I lose sight of the smelly yellowish liquid moving down the aisle.

Amidst all these revellers I flash back to a prior wild journey on the Marrakesh Express and wonder how much more entertaining this trip can get.

Poor Tristan behind us begins hissing at the blanket ghost to stop shouting and smoking on the bus. The blanket ghost seems to have taken a liking to a sweet Indian traveller who latter tells us she is the “laughing girl” in her call centre office. We try flash light therapy on the blanket man to quiet him down but eventually the passengers collectively revolt and tell the bus driver about the deranged passenger. Indian bus drivers negotiate bumpy and curvaceous roads and on this night they stop the bus every few hours to comically smack our drooling neighbour and yell in Hindi something like “oh behave.”

We stop for our final chai stop at 3 AM and see India’s faces changing yet again to the peaceful Tibetan flavour. We disembark a few hours later in little Tibet or McLeod Gang and groggily congratulate each other for completing the journey to the home of the Tibet government in exile.

No matter the early hour we hear Tristan berate a local tout for trying to work in tourism and not speaking English. He then approaches us and plainly asks if we would like to share a rental house with him. “No thanks Tristan” but all the best and please stay on your meds.

We look around and see the blanket ghost walk into the dark streets of McLeod Gang. With the thoughts of the Dalai Lama on our mind we begin the short walk to the more serene village of Baghsu.

I sigh relief as soaring snow capped peaks begin to show themselves. A moment of clarity overcomes me as we walk around the final bend to Baghsu ~ wouldn’t it be exciting to be a over night bus driver when I return home.

Access: The Dalai Lama gives two weeks of free public teachings in McLeod Gang every year. See www.dalailama.com. Return flights from Vancouver to Delhi start at $1,800. Overnight bus from Delhi to McLeod Gang costs $12. The closest train station to McLeod Gang is four hours away by bus of course.

A room with a view - Gulmarg, Kashmir

Administrator — Sat, 28 Jan 2006 18:47:28 +0000

Gulmarg’s snowy peak

Originally uploaded by Learning The World.

Ski-in and (almost) Ski-out at its finest found us in Gulmarg, Kashmir this spring. 16-days of skiing mounds of fresh snow in the Himalayas. Charlene joined instructor Nazar on the rope-towed slopes in the village for 7 days then pointed her skis downhill alongside the already exhilarated Damian at mid-station (3,300 meters). Spring sun and trackless terrain (some avalanches) shared by only 25 foreigners, a 9 member ski patrol team in training and a half dozen military personnel daily.

How much will you risk for fresh powder? 10 km from the line of control (Pakistan/India) and next to India’s High Alpine Warfare School.

Want to reach us?

Administrator — Fri, 27 Jan 2006 07:36:08 +0000

Damian’s Email: casakettlewell@gmail.com
Char’s Email: charlie.hess@gmail.com
Photo pages: www.flickr.com/photos/learningtheworld

Our coordinates: Aurangabad, Maharashtra - enroute to the World Heritage Site of Ajanta and Ellora Cave Temples.

Up go our thumbs in South Africa

Administrator — Fri, 27 Jan 2006 07:30:57 +0000

plateau path in the Drakensburg

Originally uploaded by Learning The World.

Up go our thumbs in rural Drakensburg,
South Africa. The imposing Drakensburg Mountains and 20 kms of paved
and gravel roads lead us to this evening’s destination, the Sani Pass
Backpackers Hostel.

In friendly South African fashion, we quickly hop into the back of a
couple’s truck and throw our bodies and backpacks next to their
fishing gear. The truck stops 10 km down the road at a crossroads
and I enthusiastically thank the couple, commenting on the sparkling
green hills of their countryside. We exchange pleasantries mentioning
that we left out jobs in Vancouver and have been traveling through
west, east and now southern Africa for three months. We extol
the cheerful South African hospitality. “Yes,” the driver replies,
pulling out to his fishing hole, “it’s great except for all the black
people.”

Maximum Security in Joberg

Administrator — Fri, 27 Jan 2006 07:28:08 +0000

mandela’s cell, Robben Island

Originally uploaded by Learning The World.

The world saw South Africa’s courageous black, mixed race, Indian and
white citizens rise up in 1994 to end apartheid, a racial segregation
system where four million white citizens ruled over forty
million citizens of colour. Economic sanctions stifled their economy and the media, pop culture and NGO’s broadcasted the plight of their
political prisoners around the world, resulting in Nelson Mandela becoming a household name. South Africa’s now defunct National Party spent seventy four years institutionalizing racism and by the nineties South Africans report being shunned while traveling abroad as they became the proverberial “bad guys” of the world. But with political equality firmly entrenched and twelve years of “one
vote-one person” democracy behind them South Africa is now
poised to become a major tourist destination, capitalizing on its inviting culture and natural
beauty.

The capital of South Africe is Johannesburg. Joburg, as it’s nicknamed, is struggling with its
reputation as one of Africa’s most dangerous places but omnipresent
CCTV camera’s on downtown corners and public awareness campaigns that
promote personal security has helped turn the tide. Founded by its
bounty of diamonds, Joburg is affluent and home to that most famous
of freedom fighters, Nelson Mandela. However, all residences are walled and rimmed with two metre electric fences.

About town in Joberg, South Africa

Administrator — Fri, 27 Jan 2006 07:21:26 +0000

SAB

Originally uploaded by Learning The World.

If you’re a fan of loud R&B, house or dance music, hop in a “black taxi” (apartheid policies ignored
transportation for 85% of its population, thus mini van networks
evolved to become transit) and you will be greeted by smiles and
learned greetings from Johannesburg’s young service community. The smell of social change and economic prosperity in
Joburg is evident in the attitude of the optimistic black taxi drivers, the city’s bubbling arts
Scene, and its numerous multi-ethnic Mercedes drivers. Must see spots in Joburg include the enlightening
Apartheid Museum, a South African brewery tour
and a walkabout in the “Bus Factory,” a converted arts studio.

Shamrock cliffs of the Drakensburg Mountains, South Africa

Administrator — Fri, 27 Jan 2006 07:18:53 +0000

shamrock cliffs of the drakensburg mountains

Originally uploaded by Learning The World.

Eight hours south of Johannesburg are the southern Drakensburg Mountains, offering Sound of Music panorama hiking and ancient bushman
SAN rock art for the budding archeologist. Barking baboons and an
Armageddon-like electrical storm denied us the summit on a day hike
from the Sani Pass Backpackers Hostel, a hike past waterfalls, Easter Island boulders,
and lush green hills which dominated our Drakensburg vistas before we
started up the Sani Pass to land-locked Lesotho, southern Africa’s
high alpine Tibet.

Reaching Heaven in South Africa

Administrator — Fri, 27 Jan 2006 07:14:13 +0000

heaven

Originally uploaded by Learning The World.

Climbing 1,000 metres in thick fog over six kilometers on a gravel
road with forty five degree gradients will give even a Sea to Sky veteran white knuckles. The Sani Pass peak offers ethereal ‘above the cloud’
high mountain views and, more importantly, Africa’s highest pub, with
arguably the best pub views on the continent. With a blue bird morning sky
and clouds down below in the Pass you can begin an 11 hour round trip
hike to southern Africa’s highest peak, Thabana Ntlenyana, at 3,482
metres. On our hike to the roof of southern Africa we meandered up
through an arid landscape. In a moment scripted for an Imax movie a
nomadic group of tribal horseman eclipsed our horizon and trotted by
us as we ascended the final ridge to the summit for tea with our guide
and a friendly shepherd with his three pony sized dogs.

The Xhosa Nation

Administrator — Fri, 27 Jan 2006 07:11:29 +0000

xhosa girl

Originally uploaded by Learning The World.

Howling winds and skin cracking conditions soon encouraged a move west to more welcoming conditions in South Africa’s
port city, Durban, and the rugged Transkei region Wild Coast.
The birthplace of Nelson Mandela, the Transkei was left unsettled by white
colonists and is today a tribal Xhosa area with ancestral influenced
religions. The Xhosa people interject phonetically entrancing clicks
into their dialogue and have a bevy of natural wonders at their
doorstep. I was walking to the beach one afternoon
and reflecting on my dolphin surfing partners earlier in the day when a
wave of Wreck Beach deja vu overcame me. Two partially naked but
distinguished looking men with taped phalluses poking out from behind
their blankets were in an animated conversation with their Xhosa
friends. These two late teenage boys had just completed the time
honoured circumcision ceremony high up on a seaside cliff and they were
returning to their village as proud men. I marveled at the beauty of
diversity and ever so gingerly I was soon paddling out to the surf and dedicated my sunset ride to the two new Xhosa men.