(New Zealand) Long way back

Despite our desperate denial that the trip was almost at it's end. The only thing between us and the soil of the homeland (not mine but you get my drift) was a 48 hr stint on various flights. First flight was from Windhoek to Johannesburg. The international airport in Windhoek is about 40km outside the city and it seemed like there was a fixed price to get there, but Dan and I had been busy asking the local taxi drivers around to get a better price. We got hold of a guy which gave us a decent deal and we agreed that he would pick us up on the day of our departure at a certain time. Luckily, we also got his number just in case. On the day of our flight there was no taxi in sight. We waited about 20 minutes and then called the taxi guy. Sounded as if he was asleep but he was on his way, apparently 10-15 minutes away. Another 20 minutes went by and still no sign of him. As we were considering a plan B, he finally showed up. Good thing we always leave plenty of time to get to airports etc. If there is one thing that Dan and I consistently agree on is that we hate to be in a rush to catch a flight. Off we went once the taxi guy had taped over all the taxi-related numbers on his car. We figured it was a way to show that the taxi was engaged in case any other people were trying to wave him down.....although that theory didn't hold up since we still picked up another passenger? We didn't care as long as we made it to the airport.

About halfway to the airport, there was a military checkpoint. No big deal we thought, although we started to get a sense that something was not quite right when our taxi was pulled aside. A furious looking military guy was  screaming at our taxi driver and waving his arms in anger. Wooh "What the hell is going on?"(the French guy Thomas' favorite expression). The military guy switched language to English, probably so that we would understand as well. Apparently only taxis with special permits are allowed to drive to the airport (that explains the fixed price!!!) Oh oh, now what? The public shouting went on for another minute or so and I was trying to think of what we should do if we were dumped on the road and our taxi had to return. The outlook wasn't very promising. Actually being dumped there would not at all be convenient!!! BUT I think the military guy realized the same thing and after his shouting and anger venting he let us continue, although our driver had to surrender his driver's license to the angry guy......presumably only temporary. I felt a bit bad that our driver had gotten into trouble and he wasn't all smiles after that. Seemed slightly concerned....who could blame him really. We tried to make up for it with a bigger tip although it didn't sum up to much since we didn't have much money left (and we wanted to keep some for supplies).

Finally at the airport we finished our trip in style with our "supplies" (ie chocolate and diet coke:)) that we consumed happily while waiting to board our first flight of five.
Travel route back: Windhoek-Johannesburg (1.45 hrs), 7 hrs stopover, Johannesburg-Dubai (8hrs), 2 hrs stopover, Dubai-Auckland (via Melbourne)(20 minute delay for me to get clearance from the Australian immigration so that I could board the flight+ 18.35 hrs flight), 3 hrs stopover, Auckland-Wellington (1 hr)! Final destination reached....kind of. Ten days in Wellington to eat, socalize, sleep, unpack, then re-pack......before moving to Melbourne!

(Livingstone, Zambia-Windhoek, Namibia) Journey in the bus of God!

After wildlife watching in Chobe national park,Victoria falls viewing from both the Zimbabwe and Zambian side and 'bungy induced adrenaline rush' it was time to head back to Windhoek again. We had actually planned this ahead of time and booked bus tickets online two weeks earlier. Mostly because we had to be back in Windhoek on a specific date and also because it was busy times in southern Africa. Never before had I seen so many people travelling on the plentiful "safari-trucks", (wittily called 'the mother-truckers' by us:)) a phenomenon I don't remember encountering when I was in Africa last time.....14 years ago:) Travelling has obviously been taken to a new level and dimension.  Even if we didn't have to compete for the bus tickets with the truck-tourists, we had more than once heard of hostels and campsites being booked out, so to avoid being stuck in Livingstone, we opted to be on the safe side for once.

The bus we had booked was based on the information that we had received while in Namibia and once again that information had been very selective. We had been told that there was only one bus company which serviced travel from Livingstone to Windhoek, but we soon realized that there were in fact two other companies as well and they seemed to be cheaper. But it was too late to worry about that and our bus was in fact quite nice. We looked forward to a comfy bus ride (or as comfortable as possible on a bus) and judging by the advertisement on the TV on the bus, this company was reliable, friendly and had resourceful drivers (a bit of self-praise is only good for the staff moral I guess).  The 'pro-company ad' had just finished when the bus suddenly screeched to a halt! Hmmmm not a good sign and definitely not after that "we-are-so-bloody-awesome" ad! We were told that a fan belt had broken, but that it would only take 5 minutes to fix. Three hours later we were still standing at the roadside taking turns staring at the complex engine structure of the bus while our resourceful drivers were frantically trying to fix the problem with a tree branch and a hammer? I'm sure they knew what they were doing, but can't help if I was a bit skeptical. Just as we were discussing with a few other co-passengers whether we would actually reach the border before they closed at 6pm, the bus from another company came by and stopped. We were pretty much ushered onto that bus and rushed to the border which we reached just before closing. Relief! At least we were in the right country and even if we ended up being 10 hrs late we would make it back to Windhoek! However, things were looking up since miraculously 'our' bus had now caught up with us, apparently patched up and functional and we were able to continue our trip without further delays.

We settled back in and listened as the bus hostess finished the (what seems to be) compulsory road prayer. The TV started up and we were ready for some relaxing time. To our surprise the "entertainment" consisted of hardcore Gospel spreading movies involving extremely poor acting skills. I'm all for religious freedom, but this was a bit  too much 'Christian propaganda' and I tried to close my eyes and tune out. This would've been successful, if Dan hadn't been so fired up about how disturbingly bad the quality and contents of the movie was and kept telling me what was happening on the screen.  He also kept muttering Insha' Allah, just to be annoying (one of his many special talents:)) and to exert his "freedom of religion"! Sigh! What was the point in even trying to sleep. I endured 3, what seemed to be, never ending movies about: 1) Bad boy meets girl and changes into nice boy while finding God, 2) Jesus serving food in a diner, trying to convince bad guy to eat his delicious food (=salvation) before heading off with officer 'Devile' and 3) Angry widower lost his faith in God but was shown the right way back into the light...or something like that. As if the movies were not bad enough, it was also stinking hot in the bus. I tried my best to cool down by pressing my face and arms tightly against the window, still being able to watch the movie in the reflection of course:) Finally kind of passed out either from heat stroke or mental exhaustion. It felt like one of the loooooongest bus rides ever (and there have been many in the past, record = 46 hrs in Argentina), but we finally made it to Windhoek. We were only 3 hours late which was not bad going considering the chaotic start, but in the future I much rather go on the local "chicken bus". At least then you get what you pay for!

(Namibia to Botswana) Public transport hello???

We reluctantly left Madagascar, but was looking forward to new adventures in Namibia and Botswana. Windhoek was a nice and modern city, a bit like Hamilton according to Dan (not sure if that's exactly selling the place). We arrived on  a Monday and started to look into how to get around the next day. To our surprise it seemed like long-distance buses only left on Mondays and Fridays??? A bit annoying since it was now Tuesday! We assumed that there must be other means of getting around (but nowhere to get that kind of information). Everywhere we asked they gave us the same answers and prices, almost as if the information available for tourists was fixed. As it turned out a few days in Windhoek was not necessarily the worst thing that could happen, especially not with our slightly odd dorm mate. He was superfriendly, but he talked in his sleep about "killing them" and slept with his boots on?! This was also the guy who the next day proudly pulled out a 9mm pistol to show us! Understandably I was a bit nervous that he would jump out of bed and start shooting randomly when we had to get up really early and the alarm clock would go off at 4 am. Instead I slept very poorly and turned off the clock before it went off:)

Friday arrived and we were off to Maun in Botswana. (We had decided to go to Botswana first since we had to  return to Namibia anyway to fly out.) We were first catching a bus towards Gaborone to cross the border and then apparently we were going to be let out where a connecting bus to Maun would come by. Piece of cake...if everything actually worked out that way. We managed to get on the first bus without any problem and the border was easy. Then all of a sudden we were told to get off. It was a big junction in the middle of nowhere (nearest town was 44 km away), but supposedly the other bus to Maun would come by within 30 minutes. A local guy also got off which was at least a good sign and we felt a bit more reassured since he was also going towards Maun. The guy almost immediately started to hitchhike. Maybe he was in a hurry or impatient and didn't want to wait for the bus?? With only 2 million people in Botswana there are not many cars on the roads, but after only about 20 minutes a truck stopped.  We were a bit unsure if the guy meant for us to tag along and we didn't want to take advantage of his hitchhiking skills so we made no attempt to climb into the truck. At this point we were still naive enough to think that maybe the next bus would come. However, the guy told us to get our gear into the truck and come along to the next town Ghanzi since he was sure no bus would come! Shit, better get our asses into that truck or we would be left in the desert/grass lands at the disposal of the wild animals!!!
In the next city we were dropped off at what seemed to be the public hitchhiking spot. Lots of people waiting and therefore also fierce competition.  It was not easy to interpret the different handwavings and hand gestures used by the passing cars and I was glad we were in company of our new best friend. By now we were slowly realizing that "public transport" was almost non-existent in Botswana and that hitchhiking was the best option although at times frustrating. However, on this day we were in luck and our next ride eventually arrived after only over an hour of waiting. We arrived late in Maun dirty, tired and hungry, but were pleased to see that the people with huge and over-the-top tents had left at least one shitty spot of the campground for us to pitch our tent, close to the river and any potential crocodiles. No sympathy from the 'wealthy' as they even walked around our tent in the morning giggling. Bastards!!! Even a dog had pissed on our tent!!!!  Despite this we had a lovely time in Maun and got to explore the Okavango delta. For the rest of our time in Botswana we continued to hitchhike and also continued to remind ourselves to enlighten the "tourist information person" in Namibia how completely wrong her information had been....no grudge held of course, since hitchhiking turned out to be our favourite way of getting around in southern Africa and was one of the few authentic opportunities to interact with the locals!

Madagascar- Mora Mora indeed!!

Despite having enjoyed the friendliness and hospitality of the people of Jordan and the amazing visit to Petra, we were ready to move on. Especially after almost a week in a cockroach riddled (Dan averaged 6 kills per day) and (too late we realized) bedbug infested room ( 36 bites on one leg must be a record of some kind?!). Hey at least it was cheap!!!

We arrived in Antananarivo, the capital of Madagscar without having any real idea what to expect. We were pleasantly surprised by the bright coloured houses that seemed to dominate this country! This was a stark contrast to the brown mudhouses we had got used to in Amman! Undeniably Madagascar is a very poor country, but admirably the people make the best of what they have and are generally vivacious and smiley! Very rarely have we encountered such enthusiasm from kids who spotted us 'Vazahas' miles away and yelled their hellos! ('Vazaha' is a term for white/ foreign people based on the name of a tree with flaky/ peeling bark from too much sun! Very appropriate!) We of course didn't want to disappoint the children and leave them thinking that 'Vazahas' are arrogant, so we made sure to wave frantically left and right.

Another interesting, but challenging aspect of Madagascar is the lack of proper roads in many parts of the country. This has been compensated by alternative means of transport such as pirogues (= a dugout canoe), zebu-carts and shared vans (called taxi-brousses) to help ease travelling around. One thing these have in common is that it is extremely slow-going! Dan and I initially joined an organised trip to get to some more 'difficult-to-reach places'. Then we planned to explore the south/middle of the country making use of the excellent taxi-brousse network running along the only highway going south. We knew that this was definitely not the most time-efficient way of getting around, but without question the most budget-friendly!

The taxi-brousses had 14 passenger seats. We were told that new rules limited the driver to overfill the taxi-brousses and that this was strongly enforced by the many police and military check-points along the way. (For awhile we believed this to be true until we later on got squeezed into a taxi-brousse with 28 people, including us+ a chicken :)). We were also told that the drivers were not allowed to drive at night either due to bandits or because of bad roads....never worked out what was the real reason. Either way, with this information we were set to endevour on our first taxi-brousse ride.

We arrived early at the taxi-brousse station. We knew that the taxi-brousse wouldn't leave until it was full, but we anticipated that it wouldn't take that long considering that it was already "full" when we bought our tickets. All they had to do was to load stuff onto the roof of the taxi-brousse. Three hours later we were still watching as they were strapping tables, chairs, ducks and chickens onto the roof. Apparently someone was moving house!!!  We had been told that we would reach our destination 600km away in the afternoon around 4pm. It was late morning before we set out so obviously we knew this was optimistic and guessed maybe it would be more like 7 or 8pm (if that was before any night drive ban would come into effect) ! However, after 2 hrs and many, many more stops we had only covered 50km. Considering the banned night driving we now doubted if we would make it to our destination at all that same day. Not much we could do about it so no point in worrying to much about it! Instead Dan and I entertained ourselves by listening to the loud Malagasy music blaring out of the speakers and finding English words for the lyrics that sounded like the Malagasy words. We were particularly fond of the "sundried cheesy" song, which was played fairly frequently and that we cheerfully sang along to! Later we realised that our "cheesy" might actually have been the word for Jesus!! Oops!  I'm sure that must be counted as a severe case of blasphemy to call Jesus-"cheesy and sundried" :)
The taxi-brousse journey continued even after dark (at 6pm) so we had our hopes up that maybe we would make it after all. BUT at 9pm it was blatantly obvious that we were in no such luck! Only about 100km from our destination we had stopped along side the road with another 20 taxi-brousses in front of a military check-point and we were not going anywhere.We assumed that this was it for the day and that probably we would continue after sunrise the next morning, which would be the logical thing to expect. We settled in for a night in the freezing taxi-brousse with our 12 co-passengers while listening to Madagascar's version of Elton John! It was very uncomfortable, but we managed to get a few hours of sleep (maybe). At 1 am we woke up and the taxi-brousse was on the move???? What was the point in stopping at all?? That just didn't make sense at all!! It was even more illogical since we reached our final destination at 4am!! The town was deserted and we refused to get out. Instead we stayed inside the taxi-brousse at the taxi-brousse station, desperately trying to stay warm until sunrise. In the morning, looking a bit rough and ragged, we got on the next taxi-brousse, but only after reassessing  our plan. We had overnight learnt our lesson and decided to shorten our intended distance between destinations as to avoid another night in the taxi-brousse. At least after this we truly came to understand the meaning of the favorite Malagasy expression "Mora mora" which means slowly slowly!!

(Turkey-Egypt-Jordan) Jordan on the cheap....

Arriving in Istanbul we soon realized that we had preferred the "no tourists in sight" feeling of central Asia rather than the tour bus packed city of Istanbul. It was a bit tiring with people and more people everywhere you turned, all following a designated guide with a flag/umbrella to make sure his herd of lost tourists didn't stray from the path. We also had a mission to complete. We had to make a decision on where to go from Turkey. Our initial plan was to travel by land through Syria and then onto Jordan. Since we had deemed the situation in Syria to be too unstable we chose to be "safe than sorry" and abandon this plan. Plan B was either to go by boat to Cyprus, Greece or Egypt. In Turkey it became apparent that either one of these options were neither economical or time efficient. We reluctantly had to go with plan C which was to fly to Egypt and from there go across to Jordan.

Why then "unfortunately" you may ask? Egypt shouldn't be a half-bad substitute for Syria. Well, it was unfortunately for us since we had been there 4 years ago and swore never to return (so much for saying never:)). Back then we were hassled to insanity and pretty much considered it 'asshole central'. Of course this was only based on the people that we met and these were people that worked in the tourist industry. Both Dan and I are almost convinced that the every day Egyptian is nice and friendly. Back in Egypt we were at first taken back by the friendly staff at the airport and we got our hopes up that maybe things had changed. Oh no, once outside the airport our previous impression was validated. We were immediately approached by unreasonable taxi drivers asking for ridiculous fares and who got angry with us when we declined?!? We then finally agreed on a price with one guy who almost bit my head off when I tried to put the seatbelt on?!? Apparently seat belts are not necessary now once Mubarak is gone?? Not sure what that has to do with me trying to be safe (I've seen driving in Egypt in the past) but at that point I didn't want to agitate our somewhat crazy driver.  We quickly made our way to Dahab which luckily was a bit less intense and spent a few days there to soak up some sun and eat banana pancake.

We left Egypt by ferry to go to Jordan (of course we were ripped off one final time at the ticket office, but difficult to argue if you can't read arabic) and were lucky to end up with a bunch of other travellers on the boat. These were people that we would end up meeting throughout our stay here in Jordan. But as with everything else there are different kinds of people and some you get along with better than others. We didn't know it yet, but as faith would have it we ended up with the cheapest guy on the planet....There's cheap and there's CHEAP!! Man, this dude (I will call him Ranger Bob) really had an issue with costs!!!

It started off pretty normal. As we arrived late in Jordan we shared a taxi and also a room with Bob . That was all OK, although we did think he had slightly odd ideas. He wanted to ask the receptionist if they had 'trees' in the desert?! It was 'cause he wanted to make a campfire to cook his food. He got pretty livid since the poor guy in the reception failed to understand (according to Bob) his perfectly normal question! Anyway, that was still OK and we thought that maybe he was just a bit odd. The next day we all continued to Wadi Rum (Bob still didn't know if there were any trees there, but brought his canned peas anyway). We got a great deal to spend the night with the Bedouins. By now we were growing a bit tired of his constant ranting about how expensive everything is and how much better it was in Israel bla bla bla! It was like a broken record and if he had any sense he wouldn't walk around talking about Israel like that, when it is obviously a very sensitive subject here in the middle east and one should better keep their mouth shut! To add to his inability of understanding and exercising tact, he gave me a scolding when we were about to pay since I had mentioned the price and he wanted to try and get it cheaper (this he said in English, loudly in front of the more than friendly and well-respected AND English-speaking Bedouin which had housed us)! We were utterly embarrassed! By then Dan said that we had to ditch him 'cause he didn't want to be associated with him. However, once again we were heading to the same place. This time to Petra! All Bob could think about was if it was possible to sneak in without paying. Groan!! Dan and I opted to stay in a double room rather than in a dorm just so that we could get away! Finally some peace and quiet...we thought. To our dismay we ran into Bob again at the Petra site (he had paid in the end) and as soon as he saw us he started to complain about the price of water (US$1.40/1.5 liters). He had therefore walked around in the sun for hours without water. Even though it meant extra weight, Dan and I had carried our bottles with water for hours for our supply for the day. Without asking Bob took one of the bottles and drank some (and then asked if it was OK) AND then complained that the water was warm! WTF (= va fan/va i helvete in Swedish). If there was an award for the cheapest prick in the world, he would win without any competition. AND I believe we have proven that not all assholes are from Egypt :)

(Kyrgyzstan-Bishkek-Kochkor) On the road....

After our horse riding adventure, we made one more stop in Kazakhstan, the lovely city of Aralsk. This used to be a peaceful fishing village, but now has the dubious distinction of being one of the world's worst environmental disasters, which was also reflected in the mood of the locals. Dan and I both enjoy interacting with the locals, but didn't expect much of that happening in Aralsk due to the "unfriendly vibe" we received upon our initial assessment of the town. However, towards lunchtime when the locals had had the chance to down a few vodkas (it was a national holiday) people warmed up and Dan, as always, made a new friend! His best friend for the day was a chance encounter with a drunk, "sumo-wrestler-like" military man called Borat (not kidding) who took an instant liking to Dan and gave him a crushing hug lifting him off his feet re-adjusting his spine in the process!

Kazakhstan had been great, but it was time for us to make good use of our Kyrgyz visas.We said a tearful goodbye to our travel companion of three weeks (Thomas the French guy) and proceeded across the border to Bishkek.We were happy to realize that people in Kyrgyzstan was just as lovely and friendly as in Kazakhstan despite the obviously denser population of tourists in Bishkek...we saw at least seven....

We really loved Kyrgyzstan which was well set up for tourists who wished to stay with families and take part of the culture. The only downside was their bad driving. This was more than obvious when we travelled in a shared van and went past a bad car accident. The car was upside down (or "upside duck" as my sister would say:)) and completely mangled. Everyone in our van went "Oh" and "Ah" seeing the destruction. Next to the car was a man on the ground. I was not sure if he was still alive, but what surprised us the most was that the driver of our van didn't even stop to check or to offer help?!?! Maybe that's the custom here that if it looks like a lost cause then you move on. I made a mental note that it may be a good idea to wear a seatbelt in this country whenever possible. This would prove to definitely be a good idea later on as we were yet again in a shared van going back to Bishkek. Some of the worst driving we've seen in the past was in Egypt and India, but this may well be the most nerve wracking ever. The driver of our particular van was nonchalantly changing lanes back and forth, but for some reason he preferred to drive on the wrong side! Sure there wasn't that much traffic, but to take on fairly windy roads and blind corners  at 130km/hr, still driving on the wrong side, would probably make even Schumacher a bit sweaty!. To make matters worse the driver insisted on turning his head and talking to the man sitting behind him!!! Argh!!!! If our Russian had been any better we would've told him to keep his bloody eyes on the freakin' road!!!  Instead I frantically fumbled to put my seatbelt on while having flashbacks from the "car accident man" .  I hadn't done it before cause no one else had and I didn't want to be "uncool", but screw that, I was rather alive than "cool". Poor Dan didn't have a seatbelt available to put on and I  was desperately holding on to him  just in case we were going off the road....(like that would've helped!) Needless to say it was an unpleasant 2 hrs ride back to Bishkek, but we made it safe and sound even though it took a good while before my heart rate went back to normal.....maybe I'm getting too old for this....

(Kazahkstan-Aksu Zhabagly Nature reserve) Hold your horses!

Perhaps the main thing associated with central asian countries are great horsemen and mongol hordes gallopping across the steppes. Not surprisingly, a major tourist activity for foreigners is horse trekking. We were no different and all of us (Dan, I and the French guy= Thomas) had plans on doing exactly this. None of us had very much experience and Dan had never even sat on a horse (only camels and an elephant). Despite this we were all cocky and set to do a 4-day horse trek in the Aksu-Zhabagly nature reserve.

We managed to organise horse trekking through a guy (Yevgeny) who spoke English.  The plan was to horse trek during the day and then camp at night. Unfortunately it was not allowed to camp within the park so we would have to make our way just outside of the reserve boundaries every evening usually in close proximity to the ranger's house. Even if we wanted to do 4 days Yevgeny had first organized permits for two days and then "we'll see" he said. He mentioned something about the weather, but I think we were too excited to register that bit of information.
The next day we were ready to go and our instructions were drrrr = stop and choo= go, commands that we noticed didn't always work. A bit wobbly to get onto the horse but then it was OK. We all looked quite comfortable in the saddles.We took off at a slow pace to kind of get the feel for it and to try and take photos...little did we know how hard it was to take photos while riding, even at a slow pace. I thought we were doing OK, even though the guide kept telling us we were the slowest tourist he had ever ridden with. In our defence he had only been working at the reserve for 2 weeks.  We rode for almost 7 hours the first day through spectacular mountains. Needless to say, that long on a horse left us looking like a sorry bunch at the end of the day. Thomas was red and sunburnt, my knees for some reason hurt (bad technique???) and Dan's ass was sore unlike ever before (including his last visit to the hospital emergency room hehehe! For further information ask Dan about it!). Exhausted and in pain we were dropped off by horse 2 km outside of the main village where we would camp for the night. After a dinner of canned meat and barely-cooked rice/glue (issues getting the water boiling properly after 2 hours on the campfire makes you less picky about how well-cooked the rice is) we crawled into the tent. Next morning we were all stiff and  in pain and I was dreading getting back onto the horse. Surprisingly, once I was in the saddle it was like my limbs got numb and I couldn't actually feel that much.

Back in the village we met up with Yevgeny to organize the remaining days of our horse trekking combining it with a bit of hiking as well. We had completely forgotten about the warning of bad weather and took off again the next day. Towards the afternoon it was clear that it was going to rain and Dan was the only smart one who had prepared with rain jacket AND rain pants (I only had a rain jacket)! We rode in the pouring rain with the wind blowing in our faces. Not the best conditions for horse riding. The horses slid in the mud and it didn't help that my horse definitely had an eating disorder. Midstride he would stop cause he saw something to eat causing further delays for everyone. Finally we came to the Viktor the ranger's house pretty much soaked through and cold to the bones. Viktor was not exactly the warm type. He had a rugged looking face with ice cold blue eyes. He looked a bit like Ed Gein, the inspiration for Texas chainsaw massacre. At this point we still hoped that maybe Viktor would take pity on us and let us stay in the house even if the arrangement was that we were supposed to stay in the tent. Not very likely.Without a word he showed us where to set up the tent beside a frog-filled lake. The rain kept falling and the wind picked up. Wet and cold we jumped into our sleepingbags and tried to sleep. We heard the wind roaring outside and the rain was continuously hitting the tent. Suddenly there was a strange noise. It was Viktor splashing around in the lake outside trying to start some kind of pump system. The whole situation was a bit creepy and it didn't help that Dan had mentioned that he had seen a fine collection of axes and hacksaws in Viktor's shed. I thought " Shit, no one knows where we are...we don't even know where the hell we are!!!!" In my exhausted state I was convinced that he was going to chop us up and dump us into the lake! The other two were too tired to care. Obviously that night didn't bring much sleep as I stayed awake in preparation for the end....The next day arrived without any further dramas. Viktor even greeted us with an offer of hot tea and told us to bring some vodka to share next time we visited. He was a nice guy after all!!!

Kazakhstan (Almaty-Shymkent) blunders in the night....

Arriving in Almaty was the easiest part of Kazakhstan so far.....even if we got completely ripped off by a taxi driver who wanted US$160 for a 20 km ride. Not even trying to be remotely fair in ripping us off. We managed to haggle the price down multifold, but it was hard work. We spent the next few days shellshocked by being almost illiterate and unable to communicate even the simplest things. Even though we managed to decipher the russian cyrillic alphabet we had no idea what it meant. And then there was the Kazakh alphabet to confuse matters even more! Another realisation was that the infrastructure for tourists like us was non-existant and all the places the lonely planet book mentioned had closed down (not a good sign). At this point we realized that the book we bought was from 2007 and not much information was current (big thank you to Borders in San Francisco!).

We looked for more useful information on the internet and managed to find a like-minded french tourist who was as lost as us! (he was the first tourist we had seen in 3 days). We decided that 3 lost tourists were even better than 2 and joined up...
After a few rivetting days in Almaty sorting out visas we had to get out of the place so we caught the next train to Shymkent. As soon as we arrived we ventured to what was supposedly a tourist information place that turned out to be an english language school. We ended up teaching english during the day and then we were invited to a party were we would spend the night.
As a good tourist and a representative of your country you always want to leave a good impression and follow local customs. Tonight we would find that this is not always that easy to do! We were asked if we wanted to taste a local delicacy, which consisted of fermented horse milk. Being lactose intolerant I was a bit apprehensive, but didn't want to offend our new friend. The milk was warmish, incredibly salty and sour, with mystery bits at the bottom... not the best combination!!!  We ended up taking a few sips before giving up with my stomach still intact. I guess fermented milk doesn't have much lactose? Next stop was the party- someone's apartment. Our hosts were a not-so-happily married couple (apparently the Kazakh book of 'how to be a good wife' wasn't that useful!). The hostess prepared a meal ('5 fingers', beshbarmak sp?) consisting of flat pasta, potato, carrot and horse-meat. It was absolutely delicious! We all ate from a central dish and we were seated on the floor eating away and having a good time. After the meal it was Karaoke time- pity it was all in Kazakh so we couldn't partake! (that's our excuse anyway...). Everything was going well until Dan walked across the 'table'- a plastic sheet on the ground where the food had been served several hours earlier. He was told off ('why are you walking on our table?!?!'). hmmmmm.... a moment of awkward silence ensued and an embarrassed Dan apologised profusely. oooops! After singing it was time to go to bed (it was 3AM). We laid down matresses and got ready for bed. To make it easier for our hosts we decided to use our sleeping bags instead of using their nice clean blankets. Bad move! They looked at us in disbelief as if we had pulled out infectious disease suits! 'we have antibiotics in this country!' was their response (!?!!?). After 5 mins of aimless discussion we realised that this was considered to be very strange behaviour and was incredibly offensive and the sleeping bags went back into the packs... Oooops #2! The next morning our hosts wanted to exchange gifts- we really had nothing to offer apart from a toy fish from cambodia which we swapped for some prayer beads. The husband for some reason wanted to swap watches and since I was quite attached to mine Dan offered to exchange his smelly timex for a dusty, fake citizen ecodrive. Not sure who won on this deal, but it certainly wasn't Dan! He also got a small perfume from the husband maybe because he had a whiff of the watch strap! (5 days later Dan's 'new' watch stopped working and the strap broke off!). Despite all the major blunders and misunderstandings we all had a great time and believe that we left on good terms!

Oman (Muscat-Nizwa-Sur) Arabian nights

Oman has been on the list of "Countries to visit" for awhile. People we met along the way all seem to ask the same thing "why Oman?". Can't say that I knew much about Oman in particular, but it was different and my father visited some time ago and described it as something from the book "Arabian nights". The crossing from UAE to Oman was pleasantly easy and apart for a search through our bags by the customs officers there was no hassle at all. The bustrip was also ridiculously easy for being us and we were in Muscat in no time. Muscat is a pretty strange place in terms of layout. There is no real city centre. Instead there are "city parts" spread out over a distance of 50 km which is collectively called Muscat. We opted to stay in Mutrah which felt more like a fishing village. It was blissfully quiet and relaxing and people were amazingly polite and helpful!

As usual Dan and I had not even opened our guidebook until arrival. Now that we were here in this wonderful country maybe it was time to start thinking about what we wanted to see other than the inside of shawarma restaurants!! Most people probably are a bit more prepared, but in our defence we had moved between countries just before the trip and had shipped the guidebooks straight to NZ to avoid having to carry bulky books. We soon found out that for this country being prepared would've been beneficial. There were very little public transport of any kind to sites of interest and apparently this was a country for almost exclusive driving. Either one of us had brought our driver's license since we thought international driver's license was required, which turned out to not be the case. Merde as the french would say!! We discussed the best way of doing this and soon came to the conclusion that it was best to get hold of a driver and a car. We shopped around for potential drivers+cars. It was heartbreakingly expensive, but we decided to go on the road for 3 days with a driver or we would not see anything at all. We had said that since this outing was so expensive there would be no sleeping in the car to make the most of every second. I am notorious for falling asleep in cars so that would be a challenge on its own. We were meet by our driver Hamad, who was a friendly guy that spoke good English. We liked him at once and me even more when it turned out that he also trained Muay Thai (although only in Thailand since it is not allowed in Oman). Our roadtrip covered incredible landscapes, sand dune bashing (scary but fun), sea turtle nesting and swimming in amazingly turquoise water in Wadis. Although we decided to go back to UAE after our road trip (a day or two earlier than initially planned), Oman was everything I had expected and we will definitely go back there again.....with our driver's licenses.

(Dubai, UAE) Who broke the washing machine???

Going to Dubai after India was like going from one extreme to another. I don't think we could've asked for more contrast than this. Dubai is the land of materialistic bliss and superfluous extravaganza! It was from rags to riches in reverse. Where Dan and I repeatedly were assumed to be "cash cows" in India we are now among the poorer, less fortunate people here in Dubai. We got less than sympathetic stares when we walked into the hotel lobby in our sweaty gear....'cause of course we walked the last km with our bags in 35 degree (Celsius) heat rather than spending a budget-breaking amount on a taxi, which for most people here would be spending only loose change! You may ask yourselves, why then are we staying in hotels? Well, there are really no alternatives. Budget accomodation here on the Arabian peninsula is unheard of and may explain the lack of cheap backpackers like ourselves! Despite this we did feel that this was a nice change and treat for us and we have resorted to using expedia to get pretty decent hotel deals.

On our arrival to Dubai, we reached our expedia-booked hotel late, with our only goal to check out the washing machine. The only reason we actually chose this hotel was because they offered washing machine with dryer in each room. We were in desperate need of clothes washing. For the past week/s we've been accumulating laundry in anticipation of this one massive washing-session that would revive our slightly soggy and sad-looking outfits and hopefully get rid of some of the worst dirt, dust and smell. The first thing we did was in the room was to load a machine full with clothes. We thought we should save time and run one machine-load overnight. Hmm, the machine wouldn't start no matter which buttons we pressed. Either we were slightly technically challenged at this late hour or the machine was broken. After a while we had to concede and just deal with the fact that no laundry was being done that night. The next day, we had a busy schedule. Apart for laundry we were going to the bus station to organize our tickets for our onward trip to Oman, we were going to check out the biggest mall in the world AND we were going to IKEA to buy some salty liqorice. Ridiculous maybe, but I had a craving for turkish pepper = yummy salty candy (fellow Swedes will understand this) and with the concidence that there was an IKEA here, the opportunity of eating good old meatballs and pick up some supplies was too good to pass up:).
However, first on the list was the laundry. We got up early and I stopped a room-service guy in the hallway and asked him to have a look at the washing machine. He did as we had the night previously, pressed random buttons and turned the dials back and forth. Nothing! Damn it! He called for back-up and by the look of this guy he may know a bit more (he had a repair-guy outfit and tools). After over an hour and a lot of mess, still no progress. We were patiently waiting for something to happen and with the time ticking away, I was a bit frustrated. Finally, they decided to roll in a "new" washing machine. They got this "new" machine running, but on the program setting for "cold wash of wollen clothes". Of course we did not have any wollen clothes, but was just happy that it was running and thanked them profusely. However, this "new" machine seemed to be a bit NQR (not quite right) since the wash setting was set for cold wash, but our clothes were in boiling hot water. Fearing that we would end up with clothes only big enough for smurfs, we tried to stop the washing and set it for something else. Turns out that "the wollen program" was the only one that worked or we could manually turn it to rinse, spin etc. Also this machine had no dryer, but we figured that after a good spin the clothes would be dry enough to air-dry. After manually wash-rinse-and spin we were happy and went to retrive our clothes! Oh-oh the door wouldn't open! This was not good! Dan tried too. Nope, it was a fact! Our clothes were no longer dirty but trapped!!! That really sucked! We had to go and get help. I found  the room-service guy again, explained that the door was stuck. He pulls the door several times, puts more water in (so much for the spin-dried clothes) and had absolutely no clue what he was doing. He calls the repair guy again. He turns up and pulls the door even more! Concludes that the door is broken. He calls the manager who asks if we pulled the door. Well of course, otherwise we wouldn't know it was stuck!!! The manager pretty much claims that we broke the door since this machine was new. I'm not willing to pay for a machine, that I'm thinking must be a pretty shitty machine if it breaks that easily. I explain that I have 15 years experience with machine washing and that I know that we did not break it. After all, it is hard to pin-point who broke the machine with so many people pulling the door. The repair-guy eventually manages to open the door. It's been 4 hours since this whole thing started and the result is soaking wet clothes. We end up dodging any payment for the machine, but have to bring the clothes to professional laundry service for drying. Severly delayed, we still managed to get our bus-tickets, eat 15 meatballs and buy salty fish (no turkish pepper available) and be amazed by the mall all in the space of 10 hrs!

(Himachal Pradesh-Uttarakhand-Delhi) Shit happens!

Our trip from Amritsar and onwards mainly consisted of government-run buses. These are pretty much tins with seats, but were the only option available and actually not as bad as they sound. Just a bit crowded at times, which always makes me a bit stressed about how the hell we are going to get out with all our luggage. Fortunately we were for the most part the first ones on and the last ones off.  We slowly made our way up into the mountains to Dharamshala/McCleod Ganj which is Dalai Lama's home away from home so to speak. This is where Dalai Lama is located in exile along with thousands of  tibetan refugees. The tibetan presence was very noticable, which was nice for a change. Lovely, friendly people and  we spent some well-deserved lazy days there before continuing on to Haridwar. Haridwar was a place that supposedly was meant to be like Varnasi, but as soon as we got off the bus we both got a bad vibe from the place. Can't say exactly what it was, but we just didn't like it very much. Didn't help that down by the Ganges river we were cornered by "official"-looking donation ushers! We were pretty much coerced into making a donation to god-knows-what. (Later we found out that it was for feeding homeless people) Believe me, I don't mind making a donation for a good cause, but not when it's enforced like "either you pay or else...." kind of thing. What was even worse was that the donation-collectors complained and laughed at the money we gave even though I know that the amount was good for at least one meal. Slightly annoyed and insulted we decided to move on already the next day. Our last stop before returning to Delhi was the Corbett National park. Even if we were told that sightings of tigers had been frequent the last few days, we saw no tigers or much of any other animals or even animal droppings. A bit disappointing, but hey that's the way it is!

Back in Delhi, both Dan and I was surspised to find that we thought it seemed much cleaner and less busy than when we first arrived. We concluded that there could only be two explanations for that: 1) either they had hired a new cleaning crew over the past few weeks (and we swear that we now saw street sweepers that we hadn't seen previously) or 2) we had become de-sensitized. Either way, Delhi was definitely less unappealing than the first time. As we walked there and marvelled at this new-found charm to Delhi a motorbike came driving in the narrow street that we were on. This is usually not a problem and you just step to the side. As I did this, I noticed a black plastic bag in the street. It was slightly broken and the contents was undoubtedly brown and suspiciously similar to poo. I was thinking that if the motorbike hits it, the contents will go flying and I'm in the firing line. Shit (literally)!! I had just finished the thought when "whoosh" the motorbike hit the bag spot on and the "brown stuff" splashed around. A nice speck of (what I was now convinced must be poo) landed on my shin,  about the size of a US quarter. Breathing heavily trying to calm down  I walked to Dan (who had no idea what had just happened) and asked him for some paper that we usually carry around for a different kind of emergency. A quick wipe and a long, thorough washing later I was finally able to relax again. Dan amused himself by speculating from which animal (or human!) it may have been from. In my opinion it doesn't matter. Once it comes out that end it is all the same anyway. It was a bit ironic though and so much for a cleaner Delhi :) To make matters worse, the next day a bird landed a big one on my shoulder. I know that this is supposed to be good luck, but I'll be happy if this luck extends only to not being shit on again :)    

(Amritsar-Golden Temple) Cockroach dinner

Amritsar- the location of the golden temple and Sikh headquarters. I have to admit that I was very ignorant about Sikhs and their religion. My only previous exposure and contact with Sikhism was through a pure-bred Swedish co-worker with a big red beard. All I remember was that  food crumbs would get stuck in his beard and he was dating an over-the-top jealous Sikh girl whom would call constantly all day long! Not the best scenario to get a feel for what Sikhism is really all about. As soon as we reached Amritsar we felt that this was a place with a completely different atmosphere and much of it was due to the people. We found that the Sikhs were not only very proud and majestic people, but they were also very kind and helpful. It also helped that we didn't see a single Sikh litter or spit in the street. That always is a plus in my book :)
The Golden temple is the holiest temple of the Sikhs and it was with much anticipation that we visited it. It was beyond our expectations. After following the crowd (to make sure we behaved appropriately, which included hand and feet washing and headscarves for both of us), we were completely blown away by the beauty of the Golden Temple and it's marble surroundings. Through the loudspeakers chanting and hymns were heard, which added to the magical feeling. If there's one place that I truly do recommend to visit in India, it would be here.

Despite the glorious sight and the peaceful feel to the temple, we finally had to get going and get something to eat. Food in India has been great and we both like Indian food a lot. However, it does get to a point where every curry is just another curry and you start craving for some variation. We've been pretty careful with what we eat, probably more so than most fellow travelers. I've had some bad experiences with food-related belly upsets in the past, so it is called for to be a bit paranoid and we also did not want to waste time being sick if it is possible to avoid. Considering that probably 90% of the Indian people are vegetarians, we have followed suit. Their reasons may be religious, but our reason is that we both studied microbiology! Being a short-term vegetarian, if you're not used to it, is actually a bit difficult. Dan, in particular, has been obsessing about meat and protein for over a week at this stage. He's been talking everyday about what he will eat once we get to Dubai and Oman, that apparently have really good Shawarma. Also during this meal he was talking about it with watery mouth and great anticipation while eating his noodles (a quick alternative to his usual curry). Now there's one thing you should know about Dan. He has proven to have a talent for finding hair in his food. On numerous occasions he's managed to pull out even the smallest eyelash or dare I say armpit hair (or so we think/ hope?!) from his food. Suddenly, Dan stops eating and I think "oh no another hair", but instead he fishes out a baby cockroach. Eeeewwww, I think I would've preferred a hair from any part of the body......or maybe I take that back, almost any part of the body, to this find. I absolutely hate cockroaches and definitely the ultimate disgust is to find them in the food. True that Dan has been wanting some source of protein, but this was not it! Dan being gentlemanly and all, takes it out discretely since he didn't want to make a scene and continues to eat!!!! His comment is that "at least it was a baby cockroach so there shouldn't be any eggs", but he is looking carefully before each mouthful. Now, I too fully concentrate to scrutinize and examine every bite of my meal. We almost finished everything, but I felt slightly uneasy, worrying about what I might have missed spotting in my food. The waiter brings the bill and mumbles something about service charge. We don't regularly tip here so that was a bit unexpected.  The waiter of course doesn't know about the cockroach incident, but we could not make ourselves leave a tip. The waiter clearly got annoyed and we ended up looking like cheap tourists.... 

Kaziranga National Park-Rhinoceros spotting

After our rough ride to Guwahati we were faced with a city with completely booked out hotels and hostels. We probably walked around to 15 places and they were either full, too expensive or they didn't want dirty and sweaty tourists to stay there. (Can't blame them really, we were not a pretty sight coming off the nightbus). We finally settled with a place (US$30)  way above our normal budget, but had no choice. The next day we were out of there anyway and made it to Kaziranga National park. Once again we encountered accomodation issues and ended up in a 12 bed dormitory. No one else showed up so we had the room to ourselves, although not sure if that made the situation better. The mattresses were beyond decent and all I could think of was BEDBUGS!!!! We ditched the mattresses and slept on our camping air-mattresses that I've been cursing that I brought along. I'm glad it finally made it worth while to bring it. In the end it was not the bedbugs that got me but the mosquitoes! They really had a grand feast on my legs and back....even if I had pants and a shirt on and slept under a towel. Nasty little buggers!

The park range area was an interesting place! It was very hard to get any information and we were constantly a bit confused. We did eventually manage to book an elephant ride at dawn to see the rhinoceros. The elephant ride itself was pretty amazing, but the excitement was doubled with all the rhinos that we saw and very close up! They were not that ugly really, and I think I want a rhino as a pet for Christmas now....or an elephant will do as well :). Dan and I was so stoked from the morning adventures that we also went on an afternoon jeep safari! Completely different scenery, but equally good.... although we could've done without the group of birdwatchers blocking the way every 20 meters boring us with their unwarranted excitement ('bird guide! pigeon at 2 o'clock! bird guide! it has gold banding!')

Back in Guwahati we were faced with yet another issue. We wanted to go back to the west side of the country by train, but everything was booked out for weeks. No matter which train we tried it was the same. Seems like Guwahati is almost like a bottle-neck and there's only one way in and out by train. If we had been a bit better organized we could've booked ahead, but what fun is that! Eventually after a tiresome day back and forth to the train station we decided to fly back to the west side where our next stop would be Amritsar.     

(Darjeeling-Sikkim-Assam) Nightbus nightmare

For a change of pace and to get off the main tourist track we headed northeast to Darjeeling and Sikkim. Darjeeling had not lost its charm and I was delighted to see that the Darjeeling zoo had been re-vamped and had more restrictions and rules than last time. 11 years ago I was very upset by ill-behaved local tourists that teased and threw plastic bottles at the poor bear!! In Darjeeling and Sikkim we enjoyed some cold mountain air and delicious momos, but soon realized that we had to move on if we wanted to make it to Assam and then back across the country. Our grand plan was to catch the train to Guwahati ( capital of Assam) from Siliguri, a town of no interest other than as a necessary stop on the way. Little did we know that it was the Holi festival (Hindu festival where people celebrate spring by throwing paint on each other) and everything was closed. We patiently waited until the next day to try and sort out a ticket to get out of Siliguri. Unfortunately, all the trains were ridiculously booked and our plan B was the night bus. I was a bit hesitant about the bus considering the driving we've seen in India so far has been anything but safe. But we had to get going and there were seats available.

The bus, which of course was nothing like the one hanging in the company office, arrived and we got on. It was probably one of the smelliest buses I've ever been on . Imagine, if you can, a mixture of onions, sweaty feet, sour milk and perhaps an old fart or two. We were both desperately grasping to open the window and let some "fresh" air inside. It was either petrol fumes or the smell and I would choose toxic fumes any time! Once settled in the bus with the open window I was pretty ready for our 12 hr busride. The bus was only half-full when we started rolling and I thought that's OK. Only 5 minutes later a herd of 15 people literally rushed into the bus shoving and pushing to get the remaining seats. So much for the nice and quiet! Finally, we were heading out I thought, but no. Now we had to refuel the bus, which of course hadn't been done. That would've been too organized when you know you are driving overnight:) An hour later and after various stops that didn't really make sense, we had barely made it to the outskirts of the town. However, eventually we actually seemed to be making some progress....maybe.  For the next few hours, the bus made several more stops (pretty much every 30 minutes) on the way stuffing the bus full of supplies. No wonder it takes 12 hours to travel 300kms here. It was getting increasingly hard to even see the aisle of the bus and boxes and sacks were stacked to waist height. Apparently, we were not the only ones getting a bit agitated and a full on argument broke out. We of course didn't understand much, but gathered that people on the bus got annoyed that it was so hard to get in and out of the bus and the outcome of the argument was that one sack of something was removed!! (we later found out that these were boxes of 'flake' brand cigarettes that they were transporting across state lines...)

Maybe now we could relax and enjoy the ride....
The roads were anything but smooth and with no suspension on the bus every bump in the road was a major "butt-lifter". Gravel and stones were also flying left and right it was bound to happen. One of the bus windows cracked and shattered. The sound was almost like something out of a cartoon and the poor guy sleeping next to the window got a lap full of glass. In an instant the bus-conductor came out and furiously waved a piece of glass at the poor guy's throat. There was a lot of commotion and not sure if he thought that the guy had broken the glass on purpose. Nevertheless, all the glass was thrown out of the bus (while still driving) and problem solved.

Now maybe we could get some sleep....
The bus had super-reclining seats and I could just fit my legs in as the guy in front of me sure made use of all of the reclining possible. Alright I thought, I don't want to be the bitchy tourist complaining about insufficient space and it would've been fine if it hadn't been for the bumpy road. Each bump resulted as a blow to my knees against the hard plastic of the seat in front. Any position I tried to take meant that one or the other knee got banged up. I lasted for 10 hrs before I was in so much pain that I couldn't take it anymore and I nicely asked my fellow bus rider if he could please put his seat up, which he kindly did. Damn I should've said something earlier!!! At last we made it (2 hrs late) to Guwahati, tired and bruised, but the main point was that we had survived a bus ride from hell.  

Varanasi-4 weddings and a funeral

Varanasi, the holiest of all holy cities in India. A city that I missed out on last time I was here. I had heard different accounts from other travellers. Either they loved it or hated it so was not sure what the verdict would be for us. The initial impression was the usual= crowded, dirty and congested with traffic, but the guesthouse that we had set our eyes on was located in the area closer to the ghats (stairs that lead down to the Ganges river) consisting of cobble-stoned, labyrinth-like streets or alley ways. Beacause the streets were so narrow only cows, people and the occasional motorbike could fit, which I liked better. The only trouble was that we had no idea where we were and how to find the guesthouse. We walked for a while and luckily by asking people in every crossing which way we needed to go, we finally found our guest house. Now the issue was to find this place again once we had checked in and went out for a stroll. Amazingly, we only got a little bit lost the first few times, but soon figured out the easiest way to the main ghat.
Although we were constantly asked if we wanted to go on a boattrip or asked for "donations" by holy men (Sadhus) Varanasi was really an interesting place to be. One of my favorite past times is people-watching and there was plenty of it to do in Varanasi. Not everyday you can watch people have a dip in the river Ganges that supposedly washes away your sins and will break the circle of reincarnation. (in my opinion the only thing that you most certainly will get in the Ganges is a douche of E. coli water:) or being in the middle of 4 weddingparties. Not sure if we were a bit lucky with seeing so many weddings or if that is "the thing" to do in Varanasi. Nevertheless it was interesting to observe entire wedding parties of at least 30 people get onto a small boat all in their best and most colorful saris. In contrast, on the other end of the spectrum, a few ghats upstream there were several corpse burnings and funerals. We saw several bodies, which were prepared for the cremation and it was intriguing and  fascinating at the same time. This is it! The end of the road for these people and one last public burning before becoming part of the river....that people swim in and sip from.  Hmmm it's a bit bizarre if you think about it. To add to the  weirdness of the situation, we were told that Sadhus (holy men), children and people with leprosy were dumped in the river without burning since they were already considered pure. Yepp, that really did it for us and we decided to skip our well-needed bath after all:). Despite the apparent need for some hygiene upgrade on the city and the river, I absolutely loved it and consider Varanasi one of the highlights of India so far!

India (Delhi-Agra)

It's been 11 years since I was last in India and I'm not sure how I could've forgotten how absolutely noisy, smelly and chaotic it is. Dan once asked me if India would be as smelly as San Francisco (walking down market street or being on the number 9 bus) and I said no, but being back here I think San Francisco may have some competition here:) It is interesting that everything from horrendous traffic to cows roaming around are one thing that will probably never change in India since no where else will you find a billion people that can exist with constant chaos and still be happily unaware of it. After the initial shock it is also easy to realize that the big mess and apparent lack of order is one of the reasons that tourists flock here. In very few countries will you find a place where even the most travelled person will continue to be amazed and surprised by every day sights etc.
Delhi is not any travellers favorite place but it does serve a purpose of putting the rest of India in perspective. Everytime things seem tough we can always say that it's not as bad as Delhi:) Needless to say we didn't bother to spend much time in Delhi especially since we have to go back there when we fly out. In Delhi's defense they do have some great sights it's just hard to enjoy them since once you reach your destination you are completely exhausted.
Our next stop was Agra just a few hours away by train from Delhi. Trains are by far one of the best ways of getting around India. It's easy to use and there is logic to the system. Big plus there!! In Agra I was prepared to be crowded by touts and hassled by annoying rickshaw drivers, but to our surprise Agra was pretty relaxed. Either Dan and I seemed less likely as customers compared to the tour groups and we were not overly bothered by people trying to sell us stuff.
We visited Taj Mahal during the sunrise which was the only time we got pissed off. You get up and are half asleep (why does the sunrise have to be so bloody early ??) and then as soon as we got out on the street we had 5 people trying to convince us to have them take you to the ticket office and then Taj Mahal. We only lived about 500 metres away from the East gate of Taj but didn't know how far away the ticket office was. The first rickshaw driver wanted way too much and we got into a discussion with him and he kept changing the  price which put us off. Apparently this ticket office was "very far away" so we got an autorickshaw and the decided price was 50 Rupees (about US$ 1.25) to go to the ticket office and then back to the gate as close as possible (Autorickshaws are prevented to drive within a certain distance from Taj Mahal to prevent pollution of the marble). We knew it was too much probably but just wanted to get going. In the end it turned out that this "very far away office" was only about 50m down the road. We were furious! We got our tickets and got back into the autorickshaw. At this point I was still willing to take my losses and pay the 50 rupees with a growl, but the straw that broke the camels back (or as they say in Sweden the drop that made the cup overflow) was when the autorickshaw driver only took us halfway back to where we expected to get dropped off. With some angry words we shoved 20 rupees into his hand and got out. He protested at first but must've seen that both Dan and I were not to be messed with at this stage. Soon all the morning's debacle was gone once we made it into Taj Mahal, although Dan managed to meet another "friend" who eagerly wanted to show prime spots for photos.....for a small donation of 500 Rupees (approx US$ 12.50). Haha not a chance! Luckily I only had about 40 rupees in my purse (1 dollar) so that's all he got after his most valuable assistance....Despite the pretty bad start to the day, Taj Mahal was amazing and truly deserving of being one of the wonders of the world.

Bangkok part II- The scam

Bangkok is famous for a lot of scams and one of the oldest scam is the "government owned shop" scam. It involves that your tuk-tuk driver takes you to a "government owned shop" in the hope that you will buy anything or even if you don't, supposedly the tuk-tuk driver still gets petrol vouchers. Whether the petrol voucher is true I have yet to ever find out. Anyway, Dan and I were walking and trying to navigate around Bangkok with our incredibly crappy map. It was almost impossible to figure out where on the map we were and what direction we wanted to go to. This lovely day we had the Royal Palace, Wat Pho and Wat Arun on the agenda. Mostly because those were the only sights I could remember from when I was last sightseeing in Bangkok in1996. We got to a crossing and hauled out the map to get some sense of how lost we were. A man crossing the street at the same time approaches us and is seemingly just wanting to help. He kindly points out a few more sights that we could see, how much it will cost with tuk-tuk and tells us that the royal palace etc is only open in the afternoon. The last part we don't really believe since that is a textbook thing that people say when they want to sell you something or something else is going on, but the guy wanders off and does not try and sell us anything or take us to a tuk-tuk. After a bit of contemplation we decide to go for a tuk-tuk and check out the additional sights.We have two days to kill here in Bangkok so why not. We cross the street and start looking for a tuk-tuk and there's a bunch standing further down the street. We get into the first one that approaches us agreeing on a price. It is a ridiculous price of 20 Bath (about US 75 cents) to visit 4 sights and we know we will most likely end up in a "government shop". There's no way this guy would agree to that price otherwise. The first sight is a nice 45m standing buddha and there's some celebration going on. Next stop is supposedly the Lucky buddha. This time our driver shows us the "entrance" to the buddha which is actually the backside?? Hmm a bit strange. To add to things he's talking on his mobile phone and as we come around the corner there are two guys standing at the backside of the buddha and one of them is also talking on his phone. Coincidence?? The driver and the guy hangs up approximately at the same time which made us both a bit suspicious. We walk in and the driver walks back to the tuk-tuk. The other guy who had also talked on the phone comes in after us and starts talking. I'm on alert as the guy talks and talks and talks. I can't figure out what he's trying to accomplish. Distract us, but there's no one else around? What is the purpose of this whole thing?  After 10 minutes of constant chatter from his part we make our way out of there. Go back to the driver and ask him to take us to sight #3 the marble temple. Yes he say but first we are stopping at the "government shop". I knew it! We discuss a bit but in the end we're like OK but we are not buying anything. Tuk-tuk driver says that's alright as long as we enter and have a look and besides both Dan and I need to go to the loo so these shops should have some nice toilets:). And that's pretty much what we did. The quickest browse ever mostly looking for the toilet sign and then out. There we've done our duty. Our driver takes us to the next stop but we noticed that he seemed a bit annoyed or angry. We don't think much more of it, but when we came back out from the marble temple the driver had dumped us and left.  We knew that it had been some kind of a scam or attempt to a scam but we weren't sure how it worked since in the end we hadn't paid him his 20 bath yet and we got a free ride around Bangkok.
The next day around the same crossing we actually saw the same man that had approached us first and he was talking to a tourist. We watched from a distance and saw "our" tuk-tuk driver walk by while the man was talking to the tourist. This confirmed that they were working together but still after a lot of speculation we can't work out the point of the whole thing and think it was the worst scam ever....and is it really a scam when you know you are being scammed?!

Bangkok-Part 1 Family trouble

Back in Bangkok after what must be one of the easiest border crossings ever. Started off by being picked up in Siem Reap. This part was one of my main concerns since Dan and I couldn't exactly remember the name of the place where we stayed and was worried that the people we bought the bus ticket from were not going to figure it out. Anyways, we decided to believe in the system and hope for the best. No problem at all and we were picked up as planned. Pretty much driven around the block (if we had known we could've walked but think the secrecy is part of the scheme) to get on a bigger bus. First it was only semi-full but after we stopped a few times and more and more people got on we felt it was getting a bit optimistic with that many passengers. The final crisis eventually came when a family+boyfriend was getting on the bus. They all had about 4 bags each and other extra crap that they were lugging around. The 3 girls were obviously high maintenance with implants and the boyfriend was a cigarillo smoking dude and we knew there would be trouble. Needless to say all their luggage did not fit in the designated bagcompartments and 20 minutes later it was decided that it would be stored in the aisle of the bus, not without more whinging from the family of course. One girl kept complaining that no one had asked her how she was doing since her overhead fan was broken. Please get over yourself sweetheart!!! The trip to the border took about 3 hours and then we were slowly pushed through the immigration process to enter Thailand. On the other side there were minivans which would be taking us to Bangkok. These were nice new vans and Dan and I thought it was fine. We had only been told that there would be a second bus but not specifically what kind of bus. Unfortunately, we ended up with the family. Argh!!!! It was quite amusing since they kept thinking that we were being transfered to another bigger luxury double-decker bus with toilet!! Dan and I made a bet to see how long it would take for them before they realized. Think it took 30 minutes and then all hell broke loose. The dad flipped out and threw some bags around (while the driver was driving at 100km/hr) and the mum kept threatening with the tourist police. The emotions were running high and as we stopped at a petrolstation to refuel the entire family was hassling the driver. We had been asked to step out of the vehicle due to explosion risk, but the boyfriend douche got out and started smoking!!!! Good one indeed!
Rest of the trip was more complaining and 4 hrs has never felt so long before! Dan and I pretty much bolted in the opposite direction as soon as we got to Bangkok.

Cambodia

Back in Cambodia, one of my favorite countries. My last visit here was in 2005, which is not that long ago, but there is a noticeable increase in tourism here (especially tour groups). To my relief, the Cambodian people are just as lovely as I remembered despite the boost in tourist numbers.
In Phnom Penh we started off walking around a bit to see the sights. A very good idea I thought until Dan walked past a German shepard dog that almost took his arm off (No bites, so no worries). I swear the dog had huge teeth and I almost had a heart attack. Luckily the dog was chained, but I was wondering if maybe we should've had those rabies shots after all. Too late now and better just to stay away from any dogs in sight, which is the way I prefer it anyway. We managed to visit the mighty Royal palace, Tuol Sleng and the killing fields. Toul Sleng was a former school that was used as a prison during the Khmer Rouge. Only a handful of the prisoners survived and the rest were tortured and killed at the killing fields. A very sad and disturbing part of the Cambodian history and it feels a bit weird that Toul Sleng and the killing fields are some of the main tourist attractions here. It is a strange feeling to walk around in rooms and in the field where so many people suffered and died and hopefully the willingness to share these horrors will help to educate the next generation and hopefully prevent such atrocities from happening again anywhere.

Our next stop was Siem Reap from where the temples of Angkor is easily accessible. We had a very comfortable bus ride to Siem Reap and then met a tuk-tuk driver named Saly. He had a nice face and smile, so I picked him from the crowd of drivers that tried to get our business. It turned out to be a good choice and he was the nicest guy ever. Saly and many of the locals here think I look like  a Cambodian local which is a bit amusing. They always look at me several times and with a face of disbelief when I say I'm from Sweden. 
Our first outing went to the floating village on a nearby lake  where we enjoyed a stunning sunset and also got to see a school full with over-energetic kids. They even liked Dan which is a bit unusual :) He's not the most kid-friendly person I know!! Then we spent three days visiting temples and more temples. Unfortunately, the hordes of tour groups was a bit annoying and it was sometimes a pain to try and get a good photo without too many people in it. Despite this minor annoyance the temples were stunning. In the morning of the the second Angkor day I experienced the first Delhi belly aka Montezumas revenge aka Travellers belly for the trip. Plenty more to come I'm sure. I wasn't sure I was going to last wandering around in the temples on that day, but fortunately I changed my mind after a quick fix up with Immodium. Luckily we have another 98 tablets left:) (we bought in bulk in the US) which we'll need for our next destination: India.

Baguio to Phnom Penh

Funny how time flies. Feels like Baguio was ages ago and something far in the past. Anyway, we spent our time in Baguio well while waiting for the next bus. We still had our loyal companions the Swiss with us and we all ate at McDonalds (shame I know) and played cards (asshole ala Swiss rules) in a hotel cafe. Got on the bus to Manila around midnight and once again the bus was far too cold to be able to catch any sleep. To our surprise we got back to Manila an hour earlier than expected and found ourselves in the mad traffic rush (there's always crazy traffic in Manila by the way) at 4.30 am. We immediately went to the next bus terminal to get the earliest possible bus to Legazpi. We were in luck and only had to wait for about an hour and a half. Enough time to stretch our legs and YES I found a diet coke to consume. Ah heaven!! The bus to Legazpi was far from luxurious, but hey the estimated travel time was only 10-11 hrs. It was really stuffy and hot in the bus, but since we hadn't slept very much I was out in no time. This time the trip was 2 hrs longer than planned and we didn't reach Legazpi until late evening. We were starving and dehydrated, but soldiered on to find some food once we had found a place to stay. We ended up at the local pub where drunken Navy Boys were singing away to the videoke (Filipinos favorite past time). It's funny, but they all like to sing very cheesy love songs that no one has ever heard of and not always with the most intune singing voice. Although it can sometimes be a bit overpowering trying to have any meaningful conversation while the singing is in progress, I do think that it is quite refreshing that no one cares how good or bad they are as long as the songs are delivered with strong passion and feeling.

The next day Dan and I were out hunting for a flight to Cebu (in the south) and got hold of one the very same day. Sadly we said bye to our Swiss comrades and quickly went to snap a photo of the Mayon volcano, which was the reason we went to Legazpi in the first place. Arrived in Cebu and planned for the next move. Beach! We decided to catch the ferry to Dumaguete and then have a few lazy days on the beach. Of course, we all know by now that nothing comes easy and the ferry was delayed halfway there due to a generator problem. I am not exactly the best swimmer I know so deep water and boats always make me a bit nervous. The boat breakdown in the dark was not the ideal scenario to keep me happy and I couldn't get off that boat soon enough. Dumaguete was a nice place though and it was all worth it. We finally managed to find a beach but to our disappointment it was cloudy and rained a bit. Typical!! Still got a red nose and a burnt my ass beyond recognition. Sitting on a bus after that was painful!!!

Back in Manila we spent the last day doing a day tour (by ourselves of course) to a nearby volcano in the lake. Hmm wasn't really what we expected and ended up taking a tuk-tuk down and then back up a hill before returning to Manila. I think that is probably the most pointless thing we've done so far but it was still quite enjoyable.
Anyway for those of you utterly concerned about the health of my toe (I know there are a lot of you) it's healing well and I have so far not had any issues with it...knock on wood!
Will leave updates on Cambodia for next time.

Baguio

The busride up to Banaue, a small "town" (population of 1100) up in the mountains. was fairly easy and non-traumatic (only  8hrs) although we didn't get much sleep. The aircon was blasting away and it was freezing. In Banaue, we were packed into a jeepney (free shuttle service:)) with a bunch of other tourists and taken to a guest house which were eager to sell trekking tours etc. We wanted to get some food and if against all odds maybe find a diet coke (which we didn't) before we made any decisions one way or another. We managed to hook up with two Swiss people and an English guy for a two day rice terrace/trekking stint. First day was more jeepney ride than walking on a VERY bumpy road. We first saw the rice terraces in Banaue and then spent the night in a guest house overlooking the rice terraces in Batad. Both absolutely stunning. (see flickr photos....I think Dan is trying to upload some now www.flickr.com/photos/dpp_emye/). Next day (after a light breakfast that we waited for for 2 hrs and after our guide showed up late and hung over) we started trekking. First up to get an overview of the terraces and then to a waterfall. Honestly I could've skipped the waterfall if I had known that there were that many steps (sometimes almost waist high) involved. Anyway we did it even if my legs were screaming in protest (not sure where my fitness went after all that running and muay thai boxing). We then hiked for another 2 hrs through some amazing scenery but it was muddy since it had rained during the night. I slipped and almost went over the side  but was luckily caught in the vegetation. Lesson learnt: stay away from the edge. We all got back to the rainy Banaue in one piece and then looked forward to a at least tepid shower. No luck there it was ice cold!! Never shivered that much in my life.
Next day we and the swiss people went to Bontoc. There was supposed be a cool market. Ran into another English guy and spent the day walking around the town. The market was not what we expected but despite that I kind of liked Bontoc. Next day we were off to Sagada. Got there early and went to some caves. Pretty nice and all was good until my foot slipped under a rock and split my big toenail into two. Can seriously say that it was quite painful. It didn't help that Dan had said earlier how this guy from New Zealand had gone caving a lot and got some bat poo in a cut and almost died. Pretty much soaked my toe in betadine after that !! We also had time to see the hanging coffins. This is a tradition which is slowly dying out. Only the elders which have not been baptised are buried this way. They pretty much hang the coffins off the mountain wall. Pretty interesting and looked quite cool.
In the evening since there was a 9 pm curfew we sat on the balcony of the guesthouse and drank some horrendous Blueberry rice wine and played Yatzy with the Swiss and the English bloke. Can't say that either Dan or I excelled this time around but there's plenty more time left to improve.
Today we left Sagada and made it to Baguio. It's not really a place we want to spend any lenght of time so are getting the night bus back to Manila. Since we are not that keen on spending time in Manila either we are planning on getting on yet another bus after that to take us to Legazpi.

Manila

Finally made it to Manila after being in transit for 25 hrs in 3 different countries! City is pretty crazy with lots of Jeepneys (modified military jeeps with disco lighting and religious mottos). Been all over today trying to organize a busticket out of here which was harder than it seemed when reading the lonely planet book :) Tonight it's the nightbus to Banaue where the world heritage rice terraces are. Hoping it's not rainy and foggy so that we can take a few good photos.