Satisfying the Wanderlust

For as long as I can remember, I have had the desire to travel. When I say desire, I don't mean wanting to go new places, I am talking about a deep burning need to travel and see the world. The only thing that I enjoy more than the actual travel, is photographing and writing about my adventures!

[caykothare]

Leaving Udaipur

Today is our last day in Udaipur. We get up and pack. We decided last night to eat a late breakfast around 10 am and then have dinner in Mumbai. After breakfast, Shank and I take a rickshaw back to the city palace. This is a secret mission from Aba. We are splurging and spending 200 rupees ($3.63) to take a camera in for pictures. We move hurriedly through the palace taking pictures as we go. Once out, we shop along the street for souvenirs. We stop and Shank bargains playfully with the owner for a black marble Ganesh and a silver marble elephant candle holder. While they are talking the children come out to see me. They smile and say hello! I talk to them and play peek-a-boo. They wave goodbye as we move on. Next we stop at a bookstore. I purchase two handmade leather books for journals. We are almost out of time and head back to the hotel. Aba is waiting and we sit out in the reception area waiting for the rickshaw to the airport. The rickshaw comes and we load up for the 30-minute ride to the airport. We arrive at the airport and Aba takes control. Why pull out tickets ahead of time? It’s ok to hold up the twenty people behind us. Let’s just get to the door and give the police officer the entire 5x7 travel packet to go through. WE get inside with 2 rolling bags and his briefcase size suitcase. He insists on getting a rolling cart and insists on us loading it. We walk 15 feet to the luggage screening where we unload. We reload at his request and walk another 15 feet where we unload at the ticket counter. Again why be prepared….. Instead of leaving out itinerary out, he has put it all up again and hands the attendant the whole envelope. We get passes and Shank picks up Aba’s carry on. “No, we roll!” Aba rolls the whole contraption over to the sitting area and we sit down to wait. During this time, Shank and I are drinking a 1-liter bottle of water. Shank offers Aba some and he declines. He asks Shank why the rush? Shank replies that we need to finish before they call us through security because liquids are not allowed. Shank finishes his water and heads to the bathroom. They call our flight. I sit there mute. I have learned not to take the initiative. Better to let Aba be in control! ☺ Shank comes back and asks why we aren’t headed toward security. Aba Slowly gets up and starts to roll the bags. At this point, Shank begins to lose patience. It is less than 10 feet to security and we can’t take the cart through. He takes the cart to the cart storage and comes back carrying the bag. Now it is a battle of the alpha males and Aba has lost control. We stop while he goes to the bathroom. When he comes out, Shank asks for the boarding passes ad Aba says, “I have come!” We get to the guard and he refuses to take the passes as a group. He wants us all to hold our own. Aba looks around like someone is planning a coup! I separate from the men and go through security. I find that I am a victim of racial profiling and they search my bags. Oh well, what goes around comes around. Aba gets through security and they have found a problem with his bag. They ask him to open his bag and surprise???? Three liters of water! The tell him to throw it out and he starts his retired Mumbai policeman/SOTC travel agent routine. They politely tell him to pour it out but he decides to drink it. 3-liters! The line is backing up. Shank is having a come apart! I decided after being racially profiled that I do not want to be associated with the counterfeit Mumbai policeman with the 3-liter water bottle so I head to the book store. When I come out, my two men are sitting together. Shank is trying to compose himself, Aba is smugly drinking his water and complaining that security should be more lenient and understanding. Shank wants to know how much more lenient they can be since they are allowing him to drink 3 liters of water while taking a security guard out of commission to watch him! Oh, I do love them so! Aba continues his speech of “what could anyone possibly do with 3 liters of water? What to do if you are thirsty?” Shank responds, “Mix with dry chemicals and blow up the plane. Why don’t you do like everyone else and bring an empty water bottle and fill it there where they have free drinking water”. I just happily keep writing! They call our flight and we board the plane. The airport was built for large jets but the pane that we are traveling on is not large enough to hook up to the jet way so we walk out to the tarmac. Once on the plane, I find a magazine and settle in for the hour and 15 minute flight. As soon as we are in the air we are served a meal. It consists of a cheese sandwich, a packet of ketchup, 4 twists (phyllo dough with spices) and a square of cake with water. I eat my meal and the attendant announces we are descending into Mumbai. We disembark and pick up our luggage. Shank asks Aba if we should get a pre-paid cab. There are two types of cabs in Mumbai, metered and prepaid. The nice thing about prepaid is that you can negotiate a fixed price, that way the driver wants to get you to your destination ASAP versus meter where they can choose a longer route. Of course, we are not going to pre-pay anything! Aba knows short cuts home! We head outside and are approached by a taxi queue guy. He has a cellular phone and since the terrorist attacks, taxis are not allowed to sit at the arrival gate. He says that he can have us a taxi in 2 minutes. Shank says ok! But Aba has a different plan in mind. He heads out to the huge main street in front of the airport. He walks into the middle of the street. Cars are dodging him, whizzing by and horns are blowing. He looks like a leaf going through a rapid in a white water stream. I asked Shank “What is he doing?’ Our taxi is at the curb, someone else gets in and the taxi leaves. Shank explains that those guys only have air-conditioned axis and Aba doesn’t see a need to spend extra Rupees for A/C. After all, it is only in the high 80’s with 100% humidity. After about 10 minutes, he hails a cab. It is a decrepit black Fiat. The inside looks like a bad acid trip. The seats are covered in orange and purple zebra stripe. The roof and floor boards are red and blue paint brush strokes on velour. It is a manual 4 on the column and the gearshift is a huge crystal scepter. There is the prerequisite idol on the dash and a stick-on air freshener that doesn’t help. The exhaust smell is horrible and the engine heat comes through the heating vents. It is miserable! The crank windows are completely down. It is rush hour in Mumbai and we are moving so slowly that the engine is bucking in first gear. Just when I think that the experience is complete. It begins to rain. The windows have to come up. The steam, the smell of old upholstery and the body odor of the driver invades my brain. Aba decides to instruct the driver on the best route to get home, which by Aba Standards is as the crow flies. The driver luckily chooses to have temporary deafness. Cars are sliding and slipping on the road. We sit still for a good 5 minutes. When the car starts moving, I have a strange sensation. I recognize the feeling but can’t pine it down. I realize what it is. I have memories of being stuck on a dirt road and trying to get weight on the back tires for traction. The cab’s tires are bald! Even with 3 bags and Shank and I in the back seat, the driver is having trouble getting the rear wheel drive Fiat to move on a flat wet street! We finally make it home, eat dinner and get ready for bed. Our Udaipur Adventure is over!

[caykothare]

[caykothare]

Indian Countryside Part 2

The next stop is a village called Nathdwana where there is a famous temple. We ride along on some of the worst roads that I have seen since my childhood in South Alabama. It is like riding on a washboard and choking on dust.  After another 45 minutes we finally get to the village. Traffic is backed up due to goats, dogs and believe it or not, cows breeding in the main square! The driver lets us out and we are surrounded by the masses. Evidently, they don’t get many Goree (white women) here! Children are pulling on my clothes, old women are holding out hands and begging “Please, Nana, Please! “ It is very disorienting.

We walk down the street. We pass barbershops, sari shops and food vendors. The food smells are mouthwatering but the food is open to air and the flies cover it until it is unidentifiable. Shopkeepers beg us to come in. Shank and I have an understanding. If I see something I want, I let him know and he approaches. The price becomes exorbitant (in Rupees) if they think that I am interested.

We finally get to the temple to find that it is closed. They reopen in 3 hours! We decide not to stay and head back to Udaipur. On the way back we see more beautiful scenery, brightly dressed people and even a group of monkeys sitting on a wall.

We have the rickshaw driver drop us at a restaurant that serves Thali. Thali is vegetarian all you can eat! After a huge meal we get up to pay the bill and leave. All you can eat plus dessert for 70 rupees or $1.55! Amazing.

In the afternoon another thunderstorm hits. The electricity goes out for 2 hours so we go and sit in the covered open-air lobby and have chai.

We decide to eat in the hotel for dinner. Although Indian vegetarian is delicious, I get bored easily. While looking over the menu, I see cheese toast! I can hardly contain my excitement! They bring out my cheese toast. It is perfection! Toasted white bread with melted cheese and garlic! Almost like home. We finish with caramel custard.

Then bath and to bed where we have a choice of Bollywood or U.S. movies dubbed in Hindi. We decide on Resident Evil Apocalypse in Hindi. No idea what they are saying but it changes a zombie horror flick into a comedy!

Off to sleep!

[caykothare]

The Indian Countryside

Breakfast in a vegetarian world without my sister-in-law Sujata’s cooking, not so exciting. I can never get very excited over a vegetable cutlet or an omelet without meat! So I think I will have my favorite restaurant vegetarian breakfast! This would be Aloo Paratha, Dahi and Kale’ Chai  with Cheeni (potato filled bread, yogurt and black tea with sugar).

 Aba has decided to surprise us today. He has arranged for the rickshaw driver to take us out of the city to sightsee.

This leads me to Travel rule #5. ALWAYS carry tissue and hand sanitizer in the Middle East and Asia!!! Only white people use toilet paper here and even in the hotel, they spent 10 minutes trying to find me 2 half rolls. All of the toilets, whether they are European Style or Indian (which is a hole in the ground that you squat over) have some type of running water, it may be a hose or it may be a plastic pitcher to catch water from a spigot or a spring. While technically washing with water should be more hygienic, there is no soap or towels for washing hands in the public toilets afterwards. While thinking about that, also take into consideration trying to squat without touching anything, keeping your clothes out of the hole and dry and holding your purse, camera, etc. Trust me carry toilet paper and hand sanitizer!!!

The rickshaw driver picks us up and we head out. The rickshaw’s top speed is about 45 miles an hour. Our first stop is a village called Haldighat about 30 miles away. It takes us a hour and a half.

For those not initiated to Indian roadways and driving, it is the roller coaster ride from Hell! The first issue is that they drive on (what I consider) the wrong side of the road. This is nerve wracking to me for the first several days because I can never remember which way we are turning. Then the rules of the road are different. In the U.S., on a 2-lane highway, on coming and out going traffic each have half of the road with one car going each way. In India, each lane has as many cars as can fit in the lane. Also each driver thinks that he has half of the road and if need be he will take his out of the middle! So on a regular 2-lane street, there may be a car, 2 rickshaws and a motorcycle abreast in the same lane!

The next disconcerting thing is the pedestrian traffic. They weave in and out of traffic. Women with children in tow, people herding goats, people tapping on windows trying to sell goods, beggars asking for money.

Then there are the Wallas or vendors. They take over the sidewalks and the shoulder of the road. They push huge wooden flatbed wheelbarrows through the traffic.

And who can forget the cows! They go in and out of traffic, stop and eat trash and weeds in the median or just lie passively in the street. 

Finally, there is the noise. Every commercial vehicle has a variation of the same sign on the back “ Honk OK Please”. Every vehicle blows their horn every time they pass another. The noise is deafening.

As we head out of Udaipur, the scenery changes. The dirt and grime changes to green except for the asphalt roads and the people. The people are every jeweled color imaginable. Women in sari, men in white dhoti (pants made by tying a piece of material from front to back at the waist and pulling the cloth through the legs and tying in front at the waist) Arabian Nights fashion with colorful turbans. Everyone wears leather flip-flops or goes barefoot. The women wear bracelets around ankles and upper arms, earrings and hoop nose rings. The Muslim women cover their faces, however the Hindu women do not. The children wear various states of dress depending on age and level of poverty. School age children wear British style uniforms. Boys in shorts with dress shirt and tie, the girls in dresses with school scarf. Children who are toilet trained wear western style clothing; toddlers and infants wear shirts only or go totally naked.

The people are everywhere. Women with children on each hip are carrying multiple silver bowls on their heads. People are carrying huge baskets of vegetables or wood on their heads. Bicycles are everywhere carrying produce and hay.

We pass a greyhound style bus. It is full and on top are 50 or more people riding! The entire time we are on a four-lane highway and we are dodging cows!

We turn off the four lanes and onto a country road. The scenery changes again, I can almost imagine this area during the Rudyard Kipling Jungle Book days. The landscape in some places looks like the hills of Ireland, in other parts it has a jungle feel.

We pass farmers in the field. Men and women are building fences, and women are washing and doing laundry in the river. We see old women herding goats and young girls pumping water.

The road changes again. Now it is a washboard. We are jarred until I think I can’t take any more. I hit my head repeatedly on the roof. Finally we get to the village. We go up a hill to a museum dedicated to another battle site against the invader Akbar. We go in and take the tour and end up in a gift shop where we buy jewelry. Then it is back to the rickshaw for the second part of our day.

[caykothare]

Udaipur Traffic

Back in the rickshaw, we ride to Lake Pichola. I have the rickshaw driver stop so that I can take pictures of the Lake Palace. This is a floating palace that has been turned into a luxury hotel by the Taj Hotel Group. It is dazzling white and sits in the middle of an emerald green and sapphire blue lake. Boats float and sail around it.

  We finish our pictures and head to the rope pull. This is a tram that goes to the top of the ancient wall fortress. Here visitors can view the remains of the wall that is second in the world only to the Great Wall of China. At one point in history, the wall surrounded the entire kingdom. We ride to the top with a lovely couple from Amsterdam. When we reach the top and exit the tram, there are steps that lead up to the left and an observation deck to the right. Aba asks the attendant where the steps lead and is told that there is a temple at the very top of the wall to pay respect to the gods. Aba looks at us and says “When you get there, tell them “Hi” for me!” Then he heads for the covered deck. 

We climb to the top and take pictures but decide not to go into the temple. Everywhere I look, there are women in beautiful sari. We climb back down to the observation deck and ride down the mountain.

For lunch, instead of the whole heavy meal, I choose Paratha and Dahi (Bread and Yogurt). Aba settles down for a nap but Shank and I grab the rickshaw and go shopping. The first marketplace that we stop at is disappointing. It reminds me of a Wal-Mart outlet.  But the second market is amazing! There are close to a hundred shops selling sari, shoes, purses, carvings, artwork, jewelry and toys. I could stay all day and look. Although I hate to shop, here everything is new and different. Shank however, is in living hell! So we walk the length of the market and I choose three of the most promising shops to go in. The prices are marked, but bargaining and haggling over prices is expected. I tell Shank which Items I want and he begins bidding.  Finally it is done. Maybe, this is why Shank hates shopping so much. It definitely takes away some of the pleasure, when there is someone following you around the store and haggling over everything you touch before you even have time to look at the item.

We get back to the hotel and Aba is ready for supper! I have to admit that I am hungry also! We walk a block down the road to a major roundabout intersection.

If you are not familiar with a roundabout, it is an intersection that is circular with a wall in the middle. In India, usually but not always, there is a statue in the center. When the light turns green, traffic starts around the circle and cars weave in and out from the center to the outside until they find the street that they want to exit on to.

This roundabout was a nightmare! 6 streets merge here. All six streets are 4 lane highways. There are 3 to 4 cars abreast per each 2 lanes. Also, the traffic flows opposite to traffic in the U.S. since India drives like Great Britain.

It had rained earlier in the day and water was everywhere. As we get to the roundabout, Aba with cane in one hand and bag in the other says, ”Come come”. Instead of crossing where the traffic stops at the light, he takes off as the crow flies right through the middle of the roundabout! Shank with a look of terror and disbelief on his face goes after him. The traffic surrounds them horns blowing. The cars moving look like an angry anthill. Pedestrians do not have the right of way in India! Aba pays no attention to the traffic. He is dodging mud puddles and holes. He is moving extremely slowly due to bilateral knee replacements. They finally get to the other side. Shank immediately looks around and realizes that I am not there. He looks panicked and then realizes that I am still on the other side. I cautiously make my way around the outskirts of the circle. When I get there Shank is furious! I think that he is upset because I did not come with them but then I realize that his anger is not directed at me but at Aba. He looks at me, totally gray in the face and says “ I couldn’t get him to listen to me!” and I realize that he thought they were going to die!

Later, looking back on the scene, I can’t help but get tickled. If you have ever seen the Disney movie Mulan, the experience reminds me of the blind grandmother crossing the road with the lucky cricket. The grandmother has no idea that she almost died and the cricket is too shocked to do anything but pass out!

We go into the restaurant Bawarchi. They have all different types of vegetarian food. Aba orders traditional Indian Thali (all you can eat), Shank orders South Indian Wada and Dosa. Wada is a round doughnut cake made from chickpea flour. It reminds me of cakey fried cornbread. It is served with Samba, a spicy tomato based soup. Not one of my favorites. However, I love Dosa. Dosa is a crispy crepe made from chickpea flour that is served with mashed potatoes and coconut curry. It is paper-thin and tastes similar to a potato chip. I however, have to have a change! I order Szechuan vegetables and noodles. The best Chinese food that I have ever eaten is in India! The noodles are amazing!

After dinner, we thankfully have an uneventful walk back to the hotel and bed.

[caykothare]

The Jaggish Mandh Temple

I am finally adjusting to the time change. I actually sleep until 8:30 this morning! Breakfast  in the hotel restaurant is Aloo Paratha and Dahi with Chai.

Potato stuffed bread with yogurt and tea. I have never been able to drink traditional chai, which is made by boiling black tea and adding hot milk with cinnamon, ginger, cardamom and sugar.  For some reason, hot tea with milk makes me queasy. I order mine black with lemon wedges and 2 sugars.

After breakfast, we head out to sight see. We have a great rickshaw and driver. Aba and Shank do the good Desi (Indian) /bad Desi (Indian) routine again. They have me hide until the price is set for the rickshaw. Again they want to charge extra for a Gori (white woman) to ride.

The rickshaw is brand new and wide enough for all three of us to sit flush on the seat. Usually, I sit on the inside edge with the bar pushing into my right thigh and my knees mashed against the drivers seat. Shank sits beside me at an angle and Aba sits on the seat with his left leg outside the rickshaw. But today we can all sit comfortably!!!!

For anyone not familiar with a rickshaw, it is basically a motorized tricycle with a top. It is open air, but passengers have to bend over double to see out. They are painted black and yellow and then decorated by the individual that owns them. They usually have a statue of Ganesh or one of the other gods on the dash and many have chilis and lemons hanging off the back bumper to ward off evil spirits.

First stop today is the City Palace. This is a centuries old Royal palace. As we approach the ticket booth, I don’t even wait to be told. I hide.

While hiding, I notice the cost of admission. 20 Rupees for Desi, 50 Rupees for foreigners and 200 Rupees for a camera. My heart sinks.

The Rupee is the currency of India. I as an American love the exchange rate of 45 rupees to the dollar. If Aba can’t convince them to let him in for free with his tour and if he can’t convince them that I live in India, it will cost us $1.95 US to enter. But 45 rupees/$1 US is a lot of money in India. So, the thought of paying 200 rupees for a camera is ridiculous to him. This trip is Aba’s gift to us and we are not allowed to pay for anything.  If I try to pay, he will immediately give them the money, which I don’t want him to do. So, I will just hope that there is nothing worth taking a picture of inside.

We enter the palace. It is spectacular. Security is checking bags. I have to leave my camera outside. We spend an unbelievable hour in the palace. I have never seen anything as fascinating. Shank promises to bring me back before the trip is over with my camera.

We leave the palace and walk down the hill. On both sides are beautiful handmade souvenirs.  Carved wood and marble, clothing, sari, leather goods and toys. I think that I will wait though; it is never good to buy at the first stop.

We get to the bottom of the hill and to our second destination. Jaggish Mandh. This is a beautiful temple with steep steps 75-80 feet high. At the top we remove our shoes and I look around for the first time. The main temple is triangular in shape. It is white marble but has such intricate carvings that it looks like ivory or lace. We walk up 20 more steps and enter the temple. Everything is white. In the middle women in multicolored sari are sitting on the floor, clapping and singing. The priests are dancing. We go to the altar, leave a tithe and are given holy water by the priest.

Back outside, we continue the tour around the temple square. On each corner of the square is a smaller temple. We put our shoes on and go back to the street.

[caykothare]

Seeing the Sites in Udaipur

After lunch, we decide to go out and sight see. We get a Rickshaw and make our first stop at Sukhadta Circle. This is a beautiful round park with a small lake and the biggest three tiered fountain that I have ever seen! Swan shaped pedal boats full of couples and children surround the fountain. Children play in the park and families picnic. A marionette show is in progress toward the back of the park and vendors are selling goods. Camel rides are available around the park.

Next we go to the Sahelin-Ki-Bari or Maiden’s Park. This is a beautiful park with water features built in the 1700’s for the 48 girls that the Maharana received as part of her dowry.

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We leave the gardens and pass Fateh Sagar Lake and go to see the Moti Magri Pratep Memorial. This is a beautiful hilltop park and museum dedicated to the warrior who defended the kingdom of Mewar against Akbar in the 1500’s.

We come back to the hotel and the men decide to try something besides the hotel restaurant for dinner. There is a “restaurant” next door. It consists of a room approximately 12x12 with 3 tables and a sink for customers to wash hands in the back. We sit down and the waiter comes up. Then, for the first time since Shank and I have been together, he meets someone that he can’t communicate with. The waiter speaks only Merwathi. No Hindi, Urdu, Marathi, Gujarati, Punjabi, Bengali, English, etc., etc. Finally, Shank and Aba manage to convey that we want three meals. We wait in silent anticipation wondering what we have ordered.

The food arrives. Each metal plate is a Thali size plate. For those of you unfamiliar with Thali, it is an all you can eat vegetarian meal. The plates are metal and the size of a pizza pan. Tonight, each plate has 2 small stainless steel bowls. One bowl has samba, a tomato based soup. The second is kadhi; white chickpea flour based soup that is reminiscent of cream of potato. The unusual part though is the main part of the dinner. It looks like graham crackers that have been crushed up and dumped in a pile! This is the entire meal. We observe the people next to us spooning the soup on to the pile and then eating it. We follow suit. It is surprisingly good! The waiter then brings a bowl with what appears to be wet sand. It has the consistency of sand but it is sweet. With some melted butter and a pie plate, I could have made a graham cracker crust! We walk back to the hotel and get ready for tomorrow.

[caykothare]

Settling in in Udaipur

We pull up to the Hotel Alka, which is located on Shastai Circle. I have a brief sense of dread. The street is filthy, cows, pigs, and dogs running wild in the street. A man in dress pants and flip-flops stands up from his plastic chair and opens a set of double wooden doors that look like they were stolen from a castle. Everything is transformed! Behind the doors is a massive area where spotless white buildings surround a white multilevel courtyard. Vines grow down from the roof and plants and flowers grow profusely from red clay pots all over the courtyard. To the left is the open-air reception area. Ceiling fans are on and two seating areas invite me to sit. Aba and Shank go to the desk and the bidding war begins. First, they negotiate the room rate. Never pay asking price in India! All prices are set for negotiation. Shank and Aba have a system. It resembles good cop/bad cop. Shank never opens his mouth. Aba does the talking. He starts by pulling out his SOTC Tour Guide ID from the 1980’s. Using this, he is 50-75% sure that he is going to get a discount. Once that price has been negotiated, he starts bargaining further.  After all, as he tells the clerk, it is off-season and why should he pay even the tour guide price when there is no demand for rooms? The price drops again. All during this transaction, Shank stands there mute. Now Aba starts in on the third discount. He needs 2 rooms so he should get a further discount. The owner thinks he has one up on Aba and replies that he has been generous by giving the room rate that he has given because he normally doesn’t give a discount to foreigners.

Now it is Shank’s turn. He swoops in like a hawk and states that he is not a foreigner, he is from Mumbai! The owner is taken aback because of his clothes and haircut. He looks at me and says, “She is not from Mumbai!” But Aba has the ace in the hole. I am astounded and amused at what he says next! Aba tells the owner that I am his daughter in law from Mumbai. I met his son and fell madly in love. We got married, "see her Mangel Sutra?" (A necklace that women wear instead of a wedding ring) and she never wants to leave India.

While this Oscar Winning performance is taking place, Shank is preparing me for the upcoming questions using southern slang/Spanish. The owner looks at me and asks the two of them if I speak Hindi. I answer the question for them by responding back in Hindi that I understand but I only speak a little. His eyes get big and he asks me where I am from. I respond in Hindi that I am from Mumbai and my address is 12th Road, Khar.  Fight, Battle and War won for the Kothares’. 

The owner goes to hand Aba the keys to the rooms but Aba says he will not accept a room without a tour first. We look at the super deluxe and the deluxe rooms. Again, another conference. We decide we don’t need a refrigerator and an extra 4 ft of living space so we settle on the deluxe.

 We go back to the lobby and money changes hands. Then back across the courtyard and up two flights of stairs. There is no elevator or handicap accessibility. The bellhops have already delivered our bags and now bring us towels and drinking water.

Travel rule # 3. Always ask if the water is Aqua guard, if so, it is safe to drink. Don’t be fooled by bottled water unless you get it from a reputable store or hotel, it may be rebottled water! I drink tap water in restaurants but always ask “Pani aqua guard hai?” Shank and I always try to keep an empty bottle from the airplane to fill with water when we sight see.

Time for lunch! We go to the hotel dining room, which is downstairs,to the right of the courtyard and up a flight of stairs. We are the only customers. The waiter brings the menu and I find out that it is a vegetarian restaurant. Which leads me to Travel rule #4: When traveling in Asia, unless you are in a 4 or 5 star restaurant, become a vegetarian!!!! Most of India is vegetarian; therefore, most of the restaurants are safe. You won’t get sick eating fresh cooked vegetables. The exception to that rule is if you eat from the street vendors. It will only take about 5 minutes of watching a street stall to convince you to NEVER try it! But, I digress…. Unless you are eating in a 4 or 5 star hotel or a halal Muslim restaurant, you have no way of knowing what kind of meat you are eating, how old it is, if it has been refrigerated, etc. Add all of those spices to cover the taste and smell… do I need to go further?

 For lunch, I decide on Dal, Bhindi, Dahi and Naan or in English: Lentils, okra, yogurt and bread. It was delicious! Aba wanted to celebrate so we finished with ice cream!!!

[caykothare]

Traveling to Udaipur

Today, we are heading to Udaipur!!!! Each time we visit India, Aba (my father-in-law) takes me on a trip. I love this man! He is so very kind to me but is gruff and abrupt with everyone else. Traveling with him is always an adventure.

Shank and I get into the backseat of the car and ride in silence while Pradeep and Aba argue over the fastest way to get to the airport. At one point, Pradeep announces that he does not care how much faster Aba thinks it will be, he is not driving the wrong way on a one way street in downtown Mumbai!

When we finally reach the regional airport, I discover that it functions totally differently from the international airport. The Mumbai police stop us at the door where they check tickets, itinerary, and ID. They actually accepted my TN driver’s license. Next, we go to the ticketing counter where again, they accept my driver’s license as ID.

We are handed our boarding passes and are ready to go through security when wait….. Aba decides that he is not totally in control of the situation.  Just a little background here: my father-in-law was at one time a travel guide for a tour company in India. He was stationed in Europe and Hong Kong and considers himself an expert on everything travel related. He has a wonderful grasp of getting around cities, but he sometimes fails to think about the changes at the airports due to terrorism and the fact that I am sometimes held longer than the average passenger because I am not Indian. He stops and gets a rolling luggage cart on which he places his solitary briefcase sized carry-on bag. He then decides that there is no reason to go through security with (count them) 45 minutes until boarding and has us sit and wait with the masses. Thirty minutes before boarding, a flight attendant comes and asks us which flight we are on. Shank replies “Udaipur” and she instructs us to please go through security. Shank and I stand and Aba instructs us to sit and wait another 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, he stands and we get up and follow him. At this point, he tells us to sit back down, he is just going to the bathroom and there is no need to rush. 10 minutes later, we start through security!

The security line in Mumbai is basically the same as anywhere in Asia or the Middle East. It is segregated. I get into one line and Shank and Aba into the other. After putting my bags on the conveyor belt, I pass through the scanner then proceed to a platform behind a screen where a female police officer scans me with a wand and pats me down. I find my bags and meet Shank and Aba.

The area on this side of security is nice and modern. We pass shops and snack bars on the way to our gate. We sit and wait for the attendants to call for boarding. When it is time to board, we stand. At this point, Aba tells us to sit back down, there is no rush and he needs to go to the bathroom, but finally as the doors are closing, we are on the plane!

  We are served lunch. I am starving! However, I am very disappointed because lunch consists of a tomato and cucumber sandwich on white bread, a packet of ketchup and a piece of candy. Thank goodness it is only a 45-minute flight! Shank, always the optimist states that if we were in the U.S. we wouldn't be served anything at all!

The Udaipur airport is very clean and modern. During tourist season, it is an extremely busy place, but today our flight is the only incoming flight. We catch a cab and head into the city. The sign leaving the airport says, ”Welcome to the city of Lakes”. We ride for about 30 minutes before we reach the city proper. Udaipur looks like any other city in India, the buildings are old and everything is covered in dust, grime and history. The smells register from mouthwatering to vile. However, India is in my blood. It is a love/hate relationship. One minute I wonder why I am here and the next I am wondering how I can stay and never leave.

  Udaipur has a different feel from the other cities that I’ve visited in India.  First, it is not nearly as crowded nor as hectic as Mumbai although it has a population comparable to Manhattan.  Second, it is cool here!  Although Rajasthan is mostly desert, Udaipur is in the mountains and has two major lakes and a river. Also, this is the end of the rainy season and there is a thunderstorm almost every afternoon. But the thing that makes Udaipur the most unique are the colors! Everywhere there is color! The women are dressed in exquisite sari in colors so bright they look neon. Bright red, peacock blue, hot pink, sunshine yellow, emerald green, purple and every bright shade in between. Many of the men wear brightly colored turban. It is a beautiful explosion of hues and is hypnotizing to watch.

cay

[caykothare]

Living on Mumbai Time

I love everyday life in Mumbai. Everyone moves at a slower pace. It takes me a little while to adjust, but once my body gets used to the pace, it is difficult to adjust back to the American rat race.

We slept late today by my American standard. We wake at 9:am. We have breakfast at 9:30. My sister-in-law Sujata is an amazing cook. Today for breakfast, she has made Powha a flaked rice dish. My father-in-law who we all call Aba arrives just after breakfast. We sit and visit until 1:30 when it is time for an early  (by Indian standards) lunch.

We go to Aba’s favorite Chinese restaurant. It is called Dynasty. The best Chinese food that I’ve ever eaten is Indo-Chinese.They serve the same dishes as in the U.S. but with a spicy Indian interpretation. We start with Crab Soup, followed by Chicken Dumplings and Chicken Chop Suey. In typical Indian fashion, lunch takes two hours. 

We leave the restaurant and return to Sujata’a house in a rickshaw. The rest of the afternoon is spent visiting and having tea.

I love spending time just sitting and looking out the window of Sujata and Pradeep’s apartment. Everything is so different from my other home in the United States.  Another thing that is interesting to me is that there are no screens on the windows. There are bars though to keep the parrots out.

If you notice around some of the buildings, you will see bamboo scaffolding. The construction people use this on all buildings regardless of height and they walk on the bamboo barefoot. I never get tired of watching them maneuver on the "scaffolding".

Around 9:00 pm, it is time for dinner. Tonight, Sujata, Shank and I go to my favorite restaurant in Mumbai, Kailash Parbat for chat. Chat is similar to appetizers or small plates in the U.S. We order several different chat. Pani Puri, small round crispy hollow little breads that are filled with chickpeas, spices, tamarind and spiced water. Next we had Dahi Puri, a dish with crispy bread with a texture like a cracker covered with spices, tamarind and yogurt. Then we had my favorite dessert, Falooda Kulfi. This is an amazing treat!!! It begins with tiny noodles in an evaporated milk with dulce de leche and pistachio ice cream and rose syrup. There are no words that can describe the bliss that your taste buds experience with this dish. It is sinful!!!!

Dahi Puri!!!!

Falooda Kulfi

We take a rickshaw home and it is an early bedtime at 1:am!

[caykothare]

India, My Second Home!

We arrive in Mumbai at 11:15PM. Each trip that I make to Mumbai gets easier. The airport improvements make it a more pleasant experience each time. I have to tell you about my first arrival into Mumbai International Airport six years ago, however in order for you to appreciate how different this country, now my second home is.

We arrived after a long and tiring flight. I was excited and nervous to meet my new in-laws for the first time.  The weather was in the 20’s when we left home and although I knew that it was hot in Mumbai, the 88+ temperature still made me catch my breath when I stepped off of the plane. The minute that I caught my breath, I had several thoughts at once. The first was, this is like August in South Alabama right before a storm! The air was so thick that I could hardly take it into my lungs. My skin was wet like I had been standing in the rain.

My second thought was what is that smell???? This was before “Slum Dog Millionaire” and while I knew that there were many homeless and destitute people in India, I did not know that the slums were next to the airport.

The two sensations at once were a little overpowering, but Shank’s excitement quickly made me get over my trepidation and we moved on into the airport. The Airport was a huge, humid mass of people with fans circulating hot air. We got through immigrations, and found our bags. I was so excited! I think to myself, we are almost finished. Then we come to the next area. Here, there is another stop where passports are checked again, followed by a luggage scan, followed by another passport customs check. Finally, we are out of the secure area of the airport and I ask Shank how long before we get to his sister’s house. He  tells me that it is only about 10 miles but says with traffic it will take about an hour to an hour and a half. I decide that I should probably stop by the bathroom. Shank gives me a funny look and a half smile and says that he will wait for me.

I walk into the bathroom, stand in line with the Indian women in sari, holding my rolling bag with one hand, and my backpack on my back. When it is my turn to go into a stall, I freeze in disbelief. There in place of a toilet and a roll of toilet paper is a hole in the ground with a concrete footprint on either side, a spigot and a bucket of water. Now I understand why Shank told me to pack multiple individual Kleenex packets and hand sanitizer. But how am I going to manage all of this luggage and use the bathroom. I somehow manage and head back outside where Shank is standing and grinning at me.

I ask Shank where the family is going to meet us. He explains that due to the fact that in India, everyone goes to see family off and to pick family up, no one is allowed in the airport that doesn’t have a valid ticket. Not only is this due to security reasons, just the sheer number of bodies would make it impossible to move inside the airport. We exit the airport and I finally grasp what he is telling me. At 11:15 PM, there are thousands of people outside the airport!!! It looks like a Mardi Gras parade!

  Now back to the present. This time when we get off the plane, things are different. We step off the plane and into an air-conditioned terminal. There is a slight smell, but it is the smell of Asia, old, tropical, humid, with just a touch of slum. We have the same stops but after three years, it is as familiar as going through an airport at home. I am pleasantly surprised to walk into a sparkling new restroom with stalls on each side. One side says WC (water closet which has a commode) and the other says IWC (Indian Water Closet which has a traditional hole in the floor). We meet Pradeep and Sujata outside and head home and to bed.

[caykothare]

Negotiations with Security

We are going to India today! We are up at 0600 and at breakfast at 0700 and in the taxi by 0730. We get to the airport and find a massive queue for our Mumbai flight. We stand in line at the automatic check in and go through the motions only to be told we must go to the ticket counter. We stand in line for another 30 minutes. An attendant calls for Mumbai travelers. We raise our hands along with numerous other passengers and are asked to please go to a desk in another section of the airport. There is a computer problem and the airline crew cannot pull up the flight. After another 30 minutes, we have hand written boarding passes. The entire wait time is spent listening to an Indian man screaming abuses at the attendants. “You can not treat us this way!” “We should have another place” etc., etc. No one really understands what going to another place is going to do to help the situation. It takes time to hand write 300+ boarding passes!

We get our passes, check in our one bag (we usually don’t have checked luggage but with climate differences between continents we had no choice). Then we pass through immigration. We stop in the duty free store where I buy Aba (my father-in-law) two bottles of Johnny Walker Red. He likes to serve this to his friends and it is not available in India. I pay with a credit card, the clerk puts it in a sealed bag and we head to the gate.

We get to the gate and are exposed to a new experience. There is a line and there are three KLM employees at the head of the line. They take a person each and separate. They look at passports, visas and other paperwork. They check the computers for when each person’s ticket was purchased, what method of payment was used, and the return ticket date and route. They then question why you are flying to Mumbai, what you plan to do while there and question the passenger about their luggage and contents.  From there, passengers proceed to a counter where everything is verified again. After that, passengers go to a third checkpoint where they are listed on the computer as boarded. This is a very nerve-wracking process that takes 45 minutes! After this is completed, there is a line to get to the luggage scanner, then the metal detector, followed by the body scanner.

My heart skips a beat when I hear snatches of conversations with men who have no checked luggage, and have paid cash for one-way tickets! But as Shank puts it, people who want to blow up an airplane would know that it would be much easier to get through security by checking baggage and buying a roundtrip ticket. His theory is if you are willing to die, what difference does it make if you waste time packing and waste money on half a ticket.

I finally get to the luggage scanner. Shank is ahead of me and is going through the metal detector and body scanner when the girl  scanning luggage stops me. There is a problem with the duty free bag. The receipt inside says destination Hong Kong instead of Mumbai. Shank is not allowed to backtrack and come out with me. She calls security and is told that I cannot board until the problem is fixed.

The attendant promises that they won’t leave without me. I yell at Shank through the petition. They remove my name form the flight roll and promise that I can come to the front of the line when I get the issue resolved. I run frantically back through the airport to the duty free store. The clerk is unable to fix the receipt. The manager is called and he manually corrects the receipt and reseals the bag. At this point he asks me to please give the crew at the gate a message. He says” Tell them that they think they are much more important than they are! They should worry more about catching terrorists and getting planes off the ground on time and less time harassing women trying to give scotch as gifts!”

I hurry back through the airport and go to the front of the line. I then have to go back through all of the stations again. As I am going through the luggage scanner, the crew captain asks ”Did the manager have anything to say? I hope that they apologized!” I think about the store manager’s message and decide that I really want to leave Amsterdam on this flight so I just smile and move on.

We get on the plane and settle in.  After a bit my heart stops racing and I become excited again!  Eight hours to sit and read and then we will be in Mumbai!

[caykothare]

Touring Amsterdam!

Breakfast in Amsterdam has a new twist, scrambled eggs and bacon or sausage. We eat a great breakfast and begin our day. Today, instead of taking the tram, we decide to walk. Everywhere, people are riding bicycles. Mothers are taking their children to school. Each family has a little different seating arrangement. If there are only 2 children, one will sit on a seat mounted on the handlebars and one will sit on a seat over the back wheel. Infants and toddlers have a version of a car seat. If there are more than 2 children and are not old enough to ride their own bike the bicycle usually has what looks like a square wheelbarrow on the front. Two children ride in the wheelbarrow and one on the back of the bike.  Shank and I find all of this fascinating because the mom has to balance the bike, get all of the children into the bike, get them strapped in, get on the bike, and begin peddling all while wearing a dress and heels and carrying a purse for work!

            We walk to Dam Square and get directions from two policemen to Anne Frank’s home. Her house is located on a beautiful canal on the same block as the beautiful Westerkerk Cathedral the largest church in Amsterdam. Her house sits on the Prinsengracht or Prince’s Canal. The tour of Anne Frank’s house is very somber and makes the hair on my neck stand up. Grown men are crying 60 years after the death of this girl and her family. The house is amazing and I find it very sad that anyone should have had to endure the terror and isolation that the Franks endured.

Anne Frank's House

Westerkerk

            Prinsengracht Canal

After the tour, it is time to move from the past to the present and have some fun! We walk to the Heineken Brewery.  There we do the tour and end up at the bar. Since I have a gluten allergy and can’t drink beer, Shank ends up with six beers!

            Next we walk to a Pancake Kuchen. We order one ham and cheese and one strawberry and cream. They come out the size of a pizza on a pizza pan. The ham and cheese has tons of ham smothered in mozzarella. The powdered sugar, fresh strawberries and real whipped cream tastes wonderful!

             Next stop is the canal taxi. We spend an hour traveling back in time through the canals. Most of the buildings are historical sites.  We learn that the pulley systems on the outside of the older buildings are to hoist furniture up and through the windows due to the stairways being too narrow. We also learn that the houses are built to lean to aid in getting the furniture in the windows. We end up at Central Station where the multilevel parking lots are full of bicycles instead of cars. There we get out and wander around the Red Light District taking pictures until time for the return trip down the other half of the canal.

            After the canal tour, we tour the Rijiksmuseum. This is an amazing museum! I could have stayed all day just gazing at the Rembrandts.

            We begin our walk back to the hotel and decide to have dinner in an Irish Pub. We are pleasantly surprised to discover that the staff is actually Irish! Shank has the Sheppard’s Pie and I have Bangers and Mash. We leave, stop by the Dierkmart for water and snacks, go back to the hotel and pack for our arrival in India tomorrow!

[caykothare]

Navigating Amsterdam's Red Light District

Amsterdam!!! A city that I have always wanted to visit!

We pull into Central Station; catch a cab and head to the Hotel Memphis. Our room is very upscale and contemporary. Down comforters with red throws and pillows. The walls are painted dove gray and the furniture is black. And finally! A shower with a curtain!

We hop on the tram and head to the Dam area. This is the original old town Amsterdam. We stop in a sandwich shop for a Panini. Then we are off! Shank is dying to get to the Red Light District. The Red Light District is one block off of the main street. I immediately know when we have arrived in the Red Light District because the streets are closed to auto traffic and there are streetlights and a metal post with flashing red lights in the center of the street.

  The district is open to anyone of any age. The lights are there to warn the unsuspecting and to prevent parents from accidentally stumbling through with children. There are many children in the area however. Besides the 24-hour business district, there is also a residential neighborhood and the oldest church in Amsterdam, which is called Olde Kirke, is there.

The atmosphere in the Red Light District is unique. It is a cross between Bourbon Street in New Orleans and medieval Europe. Tourists walk through with the vacation party attitude while families hurry home to their upstairs apartments from work and school. The streets are cobblestone and the buildings are centuries old.

  Here “soft” drugs and prostitution are legal. The main streets sport storefronts for “cafes” where marijuana and hash is sold by the joint or gram. You can buy these substances “pure” or mixed with tobacco. They also sell brownies and space cakes. Seed for growing at home and all different types of paraphernalia is sold.

Most shops sell either alcohol or pot. There are a few that sell both. These advertise “smoke and drink” signs and have the no-smoking symbol in the window that is seen everywhere in the U.S. the difference is the wording: “No Smoking Tobacco in this establishment”. The shops along these street that are not “cafes” are either restaurants to cater to the “munchies” or sex shops to add to the curiosity of the prostitution industry.

  The side streets are where the prostitutes work. The streets contain hundreds of rooms each just large enough for a twin bed, a sink, and a chair or stool. The doors are glass with a curtain. The prostitutes stand behind the glass and customers walk up and down the street picking out prostitutes’ like picking out a cupcake behind the glass at a bakery. There are bouncers everywhere and photos are not allowed.

There are women and men of every shape, size, and age imaginable. The majority are 18-25, thin beautiful model types. There are also fat, middle aged, tattooed, etc. available.  Every race is represented. The people behind the doors all seem to be happy and glad to be there. The government regulates the trade and everyone there has a license and health certificate posted in his or her room.

We decide to go into a “Café” to see what it is like. There are tables around and people sitting and smoking.  There are menus with all of the different types of smokes available. There are descriptive notes about each item that remind me of a wine description.  The customers sit at the table; decide what they would like, give the order to the waitress. She takes the order, turns it in at the bar. The customer then goes to a Dutch door at the end of the bar where the order is picked up and paid for.  Since neither of us is partaking, it quickly became uncomfortable, so we move on to a restaurant for dinner. Then back to the tram, hotel and bed!

[caykothare]

Living the Gypsy Lifestyle!

This morning we are up and about early. We have another wonderful breakfast, the same assortment as Paris but with the addition of self-cook boiled eggs, wieners and beans, and ravioli.

We head out in search of photo-ops and souvenirs. The vendors are setting up in Grand Place; we walk past the square and to St. Catherine’s Chapel. As we are walking to the chapel, we pass two separate women with children. The women are dressed in clothing that is reminiscent of the peasants in a Dracula movie. Full-length skirts with petticoat, lace up bodice with white blouse and a shawl over the head. They are sitting on the sidewalk with cups holding children in their laps and begging.  The children appear to be sick and unable to hold their heads up. As we walk into the vestibule of the church, there is another woman with her eyes closed as if she is blind, begging.

  After visiting the church, we stop for souvenirs and take them back to the hotel. Then we set out in search of lunch. We decide on “Cornet de Frites Especial”.  This is the rage of Belgium, there is a long line waiting to be served. French fries covered with grilled onions, ketchup and mayonnaise. Magnificent!

While eating lunch, what do I see? The three beggar women with their children. The poor starving children are running and playing while eating ice cream!

We head back to the hotel, grab the luggage and head to the train station. Who do we see working the tracks but the same beggars? That’s when I realize that they are gypsies! This time the men and older children are with them. Everyone has gold hoops in their ears and the women now have the head covers tied in traditional gypsy style resembling a doo-rag with a ponytail.

We climb on the train and head to Amsterdam. This time we are more rested and venture to the bar car. This resembles a fast food joint that serves alcohol. Along the walls of the car is a bar with stools where people can stand. We spend the next 2 hours of the trip into Amsterdam watching the countryside dotted with stone cottages and cattle grazing.

[caykothare]

Mussels in Brussels!

We board the train at the Paris-Nord Station and travel for an hour and a half to Brussels. The minute we step off of the train, I know that I am going to love Brussels. The taxi driver is friendly and helpful. The French people, although not unfriendly have no interest in people who are not French. Belgians are genuinely curious and friendly. The taxi driver gives us tips on what to see and where to eat.

We pull up to our hotel, the Hotel Alma. The neighborhood is centuries old. While the hotel is extremely nice, it is decorated in Art Deco style. Although I like Art Deco, due to the hundreds of years difference in the street and the Art Deco hotel, every time I enter or exit the hotel, I feel like I am in a time warp or that I am in the Twilight Zone.

The minute we walk out onto the street, I feel like I am in a Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale. The streets and sidewalks are all cobblestone brick. Tables and umbrellas line the sidewalks and people are sitting drinking Belgian beer and French Wine. All of the streets lead to a great open square known as the Grand Place. The most beautiful buildings I’ve ever seen surround the square.

The largest building takes up one whole side of the square and looks like Cinderella’s Castle. On three other sides are buildings from different eras although just as beautiful. The intricate carvings and gold inlays make them glisten in the sun. All of the windows on these three sides are covered with flower boxes of blooming red geraniums. There are tables with green or black umbrellas on the edge of the square. Artists sell their work and florists sell flowers in the middle. The smell of pastry and chocolate wafts across the square from the multitude of shops located there. Other shops specialize in lace. The upstairs windows open as the occupants come home from work.

  We walk through the Grand Place and on for a couple of blocks where we find a traditional Belgian fixed price restaurant. There are two choices for the day. Shank chooses the shrimp with tomato appetizer, the grilled steak with mushroom cream sauce, and frites (French fries). I choose the second menu, which is cheese croquettes, steamed moules (mussels) and frites.

The appetizers come out and we share. The shrimp and tomato appetizer is a shrimp salad on tomato slices and is very good. The cheese croquette puts a new meaning to the term fried cheese! It is real Gouda rolled in French bread crumbs, gently paneed and served with homemade mayonnaise. My Daddy would be in heaven with this mayo!!!!

After dinner, we stop by Albert Hein to stock up on water and snacks. Rule one of frequent travel abroad: Don’t buy snacks and water in the tourist areas and NEVER eat from the mini bar. Water in the restaurant was E3 for 6 oz. and in the supermarket E0.63 for ½ gallon.  Something that I haven’t seen before: instead of shopping carts, they have laundry baskets that have a long handle on one side and wheels on the other that can be pulled through the store. Since everyone either walks or rides a bike, people don’t shop for “groceries” like we do. They pick up a few items each day as needed.

Speaking of rules! I just thought of rule #2: Never pass up a “toilet”!!! Even if they are 5 minutes apart and especially if it is free!!! You may not see another all day and it may cost almost $2 U.S.

After taking the supplies back to the room, we head back to Grand Place to explore. The stores are lit up and full of customers. We decide to try Belgian Waffles. Shank gets honey, almond, and whipped cream. I decide on chocolate, strawberry and whipped cream. We watch while the girl cooks the waffles on the iron. They are the size of a paperback novel and are piled high with 2-3 inches of toppings! Amazing taste! After eating we head back to the hotel.

  The room, unlike the lobby is not Art Deco. It is 70’s disco! The carpet pattern is orange, red and green concentric circles while the bed is orange, red, and green stripe. At least it is a real double bed and not two twins.

The bathroom is spotless, the tub is regular sized but again no shower curtain and the hand held shower and faucets are on the wall on the side of the tub.

Bath and to bed!

[caykothare]

The Louvre

Up early this morning! I am too excited to sleep. Breakfast is wonderful again.

            We leave the hotel and set out to see the sites. We pass the McCafe. This is a McDonalds that also has a made to order salad shop, a café /espresso and a bakery. There are crystal chandeliers and upholstered chairs.

                         We finally arrive at the Louvre. The Louvre was at one time the Royal Palace. It is a beautiful building with a large glass pyramid in the front. We enter through the pyramid down escalators into the modern circular lobby. 

             There are four staircases, one in every direction. What to see? Where to start? We decide to see the Mona Lisa. We begin down the hallways; it is impossible to describe the Louvre. So much to see! I could have spent a week just looking at the objects and artwork between the lobby and the Mona Lisa.

We knew when we arrived that we were in the presence of royalty! The Mona Lisa was on the far wall holding court like a queen with her subjects, or maybe it was more like Angelina Jolie with the paparazzi on the red carpet. Either way, I joined in the frenzy to get a picture. And get one; I did, although why, I don’t know. The entire time I am pushing and jostling through the crowd, I am thinking…why am I doing this? Between the glare of the glass protecting her and the multitude of flashes going off around me, it is going to be a bad picture. But take the picture I did! And…. It’s awful!

We realize suddenly, that we have spent half of our allotted time just getting to the Mona Lisa! What else to see? We decide to see Napoleons’ apartments. We walk as fast as possible. I cannot believe my eyes! We passed room after room. Renaissance paintings, Greek statues, medieval relics, African art, Egyptian mummies. All a blur. The ceilings are still painted with frescoes from the times of Royalty.

After 20 minutes we arrive at the apartments. Everything is there from Napoleon and Josephine’s residence. Again, I am inundated with photo ops. What to do? Only 15 minutes left. I frantically begin snapping pictures. No time to think. Just shoot. Hopefully something will come out good.

            We leave the Louvre exit through the arch and walk the Jardin de Tuilleries and head back to the hotel.

            We pack our luggage, jump into a cab and head back to the Paris Nord station to begin the next part of our trip, Brussels, Belgium!