Is it Moravian Time? I Think it's Moravian time!

We woke up this morning to an impressive downpour, which continued through the entire drive--leaving one stressed-out driver, who wasn't me.  The drive from the Charlotte area to the Winston-Salem area was about three hours long, but it felt like more than that with the wipers on full-blast and still finding it challenging to see the lane markers.

Our first stop was a small park and museum at Historic Bethabara.  The nice lady on duty at the visitor center asked us if we'd swum there.  She was a former teacher and full of all the knowledge, which she very much enjoyed imparting.  I was highly amused as she kept pointing us to her shiny new wall-boards filled with information, telling us to enjoy reading them, and then proceeding to tell us everything that was on the boards.  I think she was very happy to see humans.

Bethabara was an early settlement of Moravians, a religious sect hailing from Moravia, now the Czech Republic.  They believed that the Bible, not the pope, was the true word of God and endured a good deal of religious persecution before heading to the New World--originally Pennsylvania.  From there, they purchased a large amount of land in the North Carolina area, which they settled in a very organized and directed way.

There was an abandoned cabin at what was to become Bethabara, where they build their first settlement, then went from there to build Salem.  The two are only six miles apart, so once Salem was finally built, the church ordered them to tear down Bethabara because they didn't want the two communities to be in competition.

Bethabara was involved (though not attacked) during the French and Indian Wars, and also the Revolutionary War, which they remained neutral in, due to the Moravians being pacifists.

After visiting Bethabara, we headed down the road toward Old Salem--and encountered our first major roadblock in the form of a giant hole full of construction equipment in the place of the freeway we were supposed to cross.

After a good deal of frustration, we did finally find our way across the Construction Hole of Doom to the Old Salem visitor center.

Old Salem reminds me quite a bit of Colonial Williamsburg.  It's got many open buildings filled with original and reproduction artifacts, musuem-type displays, and costumed interpreters who give you information about the assorted buildings and the people who lived there.

We enjoyed visiting the doctor's house & apothecary, the joiner, the silversmith, the bakery, and the old tavern museum, as well as buildings specific to the Moravians who built the town.  The Moravians divided their society into "choirs."  Young boy and girls, older boys and girls, single brothers, single sisters, and married couples.  Single brothers and single sisters were men and women of marriageable age who lived, worshipped, and worked together dormitory style.  They would also be apprenticed to tradesmen by the church based on their aptitudes.

The Moravians were unusual at the time in that they were highly educated--and educated their women as much as their men.  If you had to be a woman in colonial times, you could certainly do worse than being Moravian.

On the other hand, the church did hold slaves.  Individuals were forbidden from owning slaves, but the church could as a whole.  If the slaves decided to convert to become Moravian, they joined the sisters and brethren and worshipped side by side--though they were still enslaved.

In the last twenty years or so, if memory serves, the Moravian church made an official apology to African Americans for participating in the instution of slavery.

It's interesting how very much a part of the tapestry of society slavery is here in the south.  It's something we're aware of in an academic way in the north, but it just doesn't pulse through every aspect of life.

Tomorrow we will be up at the crack of the start of free-continental-breakfast-time, then off for our longest drive of the trip, all the way to the Outer Banks.

Phew!

Sometimes Slow Is Good

Our original plan for today had included visiting Historic Brattonsville and a place called the Daniel Stowe Botanical Gardens, but Tom had a brilliant suggestions.  Our hotel was just down the road from the NC Arboretum where my grandmother used to volunteer.  Instead of going to other gardens, which are farther away, we decided go visit the ones that have a family connection  and are literally two miles down the road.

And so we did!  A lovely, sunny morning with a nice breeze made for a very pleasant visit.  We were there just at opening time, so there weren't a lot of folks around, and we were able to meander through the assorted gardens.  This being very early April, a lot of the plants aren't blooming yet, but what we saw were lovely.  I was especially fond of the bonsai garden.

It made for a quiet start to the day, then it was on the road for South Carolina.

Neither one of us knew there was such a thing as the Eastern Continental Divide until we passed a road sign telling us we'd just reached it.  The downhill side was pretty abrupt, with a good drop-off, but there were at least trees to block most of the view.

We eventually reached Historic Brattonsville shortly after noon.  It's in the middle of backwoods South Carolina and was not very busy.

Brattonsville was the site of a Revolutionary War battle--the Battle of Huck's Defeat or the Battle of Williamson's Plantation.  There are several buildings on site, both ``18th and 19th century.  The Bratton family held a plantation there, and the site included historical information about both the Scots-Irish Bratton family and their slaves.

Most of the buildings on site were either reproductions on the foundations of original buildings or period buildings which had been moved from elsewhere to be a part of the site.  There were, however, also some buildings that were original to the place.  Most that were open to the public had been furnished in period-appropriate fashion.

The place reminded me very much of Camlann Village--which represents a village in medieval England and at which I worked for many years--in that it was manned by historical interpreters partaking in historical crafts and activities, including spinning and caring for the animals on site.  The animals included a horse, some cows, many chickens, pigs with piglets, and sheep--with eight shiny new lambs, including two who had been born only yesterday.  SO CUTE!

The other animals on site were the copious and voluminous bees and wasps.  Waaaaay too many large stinging insects.  Still, they pretty much seemed to ignore us and go about their business, so that was good.

Overall, we really enjoyed the slower pace and significantly smaller crowds at both stops today.  I learned about the south's involvement in the Revolutionary War, which I've always considered a mostly northern thing, although that is clearly not the case.

After our adventure into South Carolina we drove back into North Carolina and are staying just on the outskirts of Charlotte tonight.  Tomorrow should involve a bit less driving, though possibly more crowds.  It's also supposed to be our first real rain day.  Glad that I brought a good jacket along!

The Biltmore Estate

The day started off with a fairly long drive from Pigeon Forge, TN to Asheville, NC.  This was the last stretch that I have to drive--due to the winding nature of the mountain roads.  The weather was clear, though chilly enough for the car to require scraping in the morning.

Our primary goal in Asheville was the Biltmore Estate.  I have been to the Biltmore at least twice, and possibly thrice, but it's been more than 20 years and Tom has never visited, so I was excited to show it to him.

There's really no way to describe the estate without including the adjectives; grand, impressive, stately, huge, and crowded.

It's always been busy, but it felt even more crowded to me than other times I've visited.  Also new to me this year, the handheld audio tour.  It was fairly cheesy, using the premise that you are a guest of the Vanderbilts, newly arrived for a party, and being given a tour of the house.  You "interact" with several members of the family, staff, and other guests, and in the process learn about some of the history and items in the house.

It was also *extremely* crowded.  Tom got a bit frustrated with both the crowds and the audio tour, but found the house itself quite impressive.  We also walked through the gardens and the little shops in the carriage house.  The sun was very bright and there's no available shade so we did get quite warm, but compared to the last time I was there it was plain mild.

I did do one thing at the Biltmore which I have never done before, either being too young or not drinking any alcohol yet.  There's a winery on site and I did enjoy the complimentary wine tasting.  Tom took over driving after--no worries about driving illegally!  There were actually a few quite tasty wines, but I did not purchase any due to the logistics of getting it home, and not wanting to have to drink my way through a whole bottle before our flight.

Overall, I enjoyed getting back to the Biltmore, and I enjoyed getting Tom to see such a grand house.

Once we reached our hotel and looked at the map for our next day's locations, we realized that we're actually hitting three states on this trip.  Tomorrow's first attraction is in South Carolina.  Surprise!

We're both still in good health and going strong.  I was hoping for a bath tonight to soak my sore feet but, sadly, this hotel doesn't have one.  Maybe tomorrow!

Windy Roads, Deep Underground, and MagiQuest

Yesterday was a slower day--we didn't have to take any major drives and had just a few things on the to-do list.  First--Tuckaleechee Caverns.

We were supposed to take a fairly direct route, though there really isn't a lot of direct anything in the the Smoky Mountain areas.  I accidentally took us into the park, where we enjoyed a very scenic drive along a little river, which I believe is actually named Little River.  We saw both a deer and wild turkey crossing the road and what looked to me like a juvenile bald eagle, whose head was only just starting to go white.

Turns out, this was the road that Tom had planned for us to go back on after the caverns.  Oops!  At least we got where we were going.

He's not a big fan of small, enclosed places, but Tuckaleechee Caverns is advertised as having about a very big room, so thought he'd give it a go.  And it does!  It also has some places where the clearance is only about four feet.  That would have been all right, until we hit the spot where there were stairs going down, with a sixty foot drop on one side.  Combination of cave plus heights was too much and he abandoned ship.  Good news, this was pretty much at the beginning of the tour.  I continued on in our group of about fourteen folks, who our guide had called a "small" group.  It didn't seem that small to me until we were passing other groups down in the caverns, which might have been as many as thirty.

There were lovely formations, a very big room, a very big curtain formation, which was probably my favorite formation, and more, but what was probably the neatest thing--which I haven't experienced in other caves--was that there was a river going through almost the whole length of the caverns.  We also saw a waterfall.  Pretty neat overall.

Then we headed back toward Gatlinburg and went to see the Arts & Crafts Community, which we had missed the first time through.  Turns out it's actually an eight-mile loop through the backwoods with galleries off the sides of the roads here and there.  I purchased a small handmade broom and Tom picked up some Native American art.

Back to the hotel after lunch for a short nap for me, then we hit MagiQuest in Pigeon Forge.  It had a large, well-done mirror maze, yet more mini-golf (which I only won by eight strokes this time), a laser obstacle course, which I was *awful* at and Tom did not partake of, and this weird MagiQuest thing, where you get a "magic" wand and do quests.  Would have been a bit more fun for younger folks,  but I generally enjoyed it.

It was the last day in the Pigeon Forge/Gatlinburg area, and while I enjoyed it, I was ready to move along.

Onward!

Dollywood

Yesterday was Dollywood.  I didn't know what to expect.  Everybody I know who has been there, or knows someone who has been there, says it's great!  I went in with an open mind and it was . . . well, pretty great!

Everything is very well organized, starting right from the parking lot.  As you drive in, you drive past the parking lot, so you can see the seemingly endless stretch of concrete, and it seems like you're going to be walking forever.  Nope!  They have frequent trams running non-stop through the day, and everyone is efficiently shuttled from wherever they're parked to the front gate.

We'd ordered our tickets online and early enough that there was a special price for a season pass, which comes with a free day pass for a visitor!  So my husband is now a proud Dollywood season ticket holder.

We arrived pretty much when the park opened at `10 and left around 6, without feeling like there were major sections of downtime.

How to describe Dollywood?  Smaller, super-friendly Disneyland, staffed by many exceptionally helpful senior citizens, with well designed areas, music everywhere, a stronger presence of Christianity than you might find at a Disneyland--but not enough to scare off my atheist husband, all in an expansive, but still comfortably walkable area.  There are plenty of rides, including plenty of roller coasters, of which we partook in exactly zero--and we still had things to do all day long.

There was a special event for the month, "A Festival of Nations," which included food selections, musical presentations, and items for sale from assorted countries.  These included Trinidad & Tobago, South Africa, Canada, "Africa" (not a country, Dollywood!), India, South Korea, Ecuador, Cuba, and maybe one or two others I'm forgetting.  Not all had music presentations, but I caught a bit of most that did, save Cuba.  Also, the items they had for sale in "India" might have been made in India, but having been to India, they were, uh, not exactly representative, so I took a lot of what I saw in other places with a grain of salt.

Still, with all the cultural things, Dollywood felt a bit like the Polynesian Cultural Center on Oahu on steroids and with added roller coasters.

The Canadian music was from Quebec, and wasn't really Tom's cup of tea, so we moved on fairly quickly from that.  I went on my own to "Drumstruck" a percussion-based show from South Africa that was high energy and particpatory.  Every seat had a drum and we were encouraged to be engaged.  The best music show, however, was the the Shell-sponsored "Invaders" a steel pan orchestra from Trinidad and Tobago.

It was very cold--the exciting weather in Nashville was at the leading edge of a strong cold front, so we were all bundled up and chilly.  These poor folks from the Caribbean were not bundled up and freezing.  But playing the steel pans is a fairly aerobic activity that helped warm them up.  The show ended with the William Tell Overture and the Hallelujah Chorus on steel pans.  Very impressive!

Another highlight is Eagle Mountain Sanctuary.  Dollywood is partnered with the American Eagle Foundation and provides a home for around sixteen bald eagles, who are physically disabled and unable to return to the wild.  The Eagle Mountain Sanctuary is the largest enclosed eagle aerie in the US.  The eagles also have several mated pairs who produce offspring each year, who are released into the wild.

There is a live raptor show, including falcons, owls, vlutures, and eagles, and we had a seat in the front row.  The black vulture flew so close over my head it almost hit me with a wing.  Lots of wind.  Very fun.

Also, at the end of the show, they have an African Pied Raven named Friar Tuck who is trained to accept donations of folded bills and drop them into the collection box.  I admit, I participated in giving a dollar to Tuck.  I am a sucker for ravens.

There were also lots of crafts, including leather goods, wood-carving, pottery, glass-blowing, metalwork, candles, and more.  Plenty of shopping and browsing to be done.

I had a bobotie from South Africa--tasty sausage and almond-containing pastry for lunch and a more traditional American chicken tenders for dinner.

The last thing we saw was the Dolly Parton museum, which houses lots of memorabilia and allows the visitors to learn more about the lady who is the reason Dollywood exists.  She's quite the philanthropist, and and very involved with the community and literacy projects.

Oh!  And we also rode the Dollywood Express, a real coal-fired train that takes you on a five-mile loop around the park and nearby area.  I could have done with less narration, but enjoyed experiencing all the unique steam train details that I can now use if I ever need to write one.

Overall, I had a really enjoyable day at Dollywood and would recommend it to pretty much anyone.

Onward this morning the the Tuckaleechee Caverns!

Holy Kitsch (and Mini-Golf), Batman!

This day was a on the docket to be a very long one, so we got up early and made our way to a place which is ubiquitous across much of the country, but which neither of us had been to before--Waffle House.

My impressions: no-muss, no fuss.  The menu is lean and not exactly inspiring, but covers your basics (and apparently every possible hash brown topping) at a very reasonable price.  I liked my eggs and sausage, but was not enamored of the hash browns (no toppings) and toast.

Then, we were on the road to Gatlinburg.  It was a long, but lovely, drive.  There are seemingly endless hills, with lots of trees along the way.  For a person whose usual long drive from Seattle to Portland is probably 2/3s urban or suburban, it was a really refreshing change. 

The rest stop we hit was clean, indoors (?!) and had several folk staffing it who were able to answer my question about the purple-blossomed trees.  Apparently they are called Redbuds.  One noted that while their color doesn't match their name, they're the reason his eyes are all red.  Heh.

Once we turned off I-40 towards Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg we discovered a whole new world of ALL THE KITSCH!  And all the traffic.  The roads are lined with every sort of roadside attraction.  Many Ripley's museums, dinner shows, carnival rides, live goats (?), live alligators (??), and buildings in all sorts of shapes, from medieval castles to the Titanic.

By the time we finally reached Gatlinburg I was about ready to run away screaming, but we did manage to get ourselves parked and out among the throngs of vacationers.  Our first activity was a moonshine-themed escape room, which we did with a family of one father with three teen to pre-teen daughters.  We did not escape, but we were about thirty seconds away from completing the last puzzle when the buzzer went off.

Next we continued down the road and found a little place called The Village, which was very quaint and filled with little Old-World styled buildings with more modern shops.  Tom enjoyed the Fine Art gallery where he made a purchase of some lovely prints of naval battles.  We both found goodies at the Celtic store, and we enjoyed some German food in a quiet spot over the cheese shop.  It was nice to be someplace not swarming with people.

After that it was time for mini-golf.  There is so...much...mini-golf in Gatlinburg.  We played three courses.  The first was sort of Indiana Jones adventure-themed.  A pleasant enough course, and the first demonstration that if we are ever faced with needing to play mini-golf for any important reasons, I had better be the one to do it.  I won the first round 55 to 73.

Next was a nine-hole black light course, undersea themed.  Very nice atmosphere with nice art and appropriate music.  I won that round 24 (including a hole in one!) to 4`1.

Last was a really cool 18-hole course working its way up a hillside--built with nice wooden ramps and stairs and including some interpretive history of the area.  I won that round 51to 73.

Tom did find that he scored best when he sort of hit one-handed, backwards, and with a kind of sashay in time with the music.  I have NO IDEA how that worked, but it did.

Finally, it was time to escape Gatlinburg and go back up the road to Pigeon Forge.

We're in the hotel now and anticipating our full day at Dollywood tomorrow!

Welcome to Nashville!

I've been to Nashville before, when I was a college freshman on choir tour.  My primary memory is of being quite sick and having my homestay folks  bring me to their son's pediatrician, who diagnosed me with bronchitis and prescribed antibiotics.  This turns out to have been a good thing, since the choir later got snowed in for a week in Asheville, North Carolina and if I didn't already have those antibiotics, that would have been even less enjoyable than it already was!

So now, more than two decades later, I'm back.  My husband and I are both not particular fans of country music, so rather than doing the Grand Old Opry or other more country-oriented activities, we visited the Belle Meade Plantation and Cheekwood Estate and Gardens.

Belle Meade used to be a large plantation specifically dedicated to breeding racehorses.  The current property is much smaller than it used to be.  Original buildings include the Mansion, the Carriage House and Stables, the Dairy, the Gardener's House, the Smoke House, and the Harding Cabin, a very early building on the property.

The grounds were mostly open for exploration and I enjoyed getting to learn about some of the folks who had been involved with the plantation.  Everything was easily walkable with pleasant trees, including Southern Magnolias, Black Walnut, and a ubiquitous tree with small purple blooms, but not much in the way of leaves.  They're everywhere, but I haven't yet been able to learn what they are.

There were two tour options, the Mansion Tour, including the family's parts of the mansion, and Journey to Jubilee, which "focuses on the African-American experience during and after slavery."  We took the latter tour.  Our guide was named Jasmine and she was incredibly knowledgeable about not just the Belle Meade family, but about the history, politics and economics surrounding slavery.  We were very impressed with her presentation.  She didn't sugar-coat things, and asked a lot of questions designed to make folks think--including in ways that I hadn't really considered.  After emancipation, for example, what did freedom look like?  What about vagrancy laws?  What about using the penal system as a way to maintain the social status-quo?

We also learned about lots of things in the past that could kill you--like arsenic in the green paint in the original wallpaper in the Mansion, and the doctor who prescribed running up stairs in a corset and smoking "asthma cigarettes" to help cure asthma.  Did not work...

One of the coolest things to learn about Belle Meade is that most of the best racehorses in past many decades can trace their lineage to Bonnie Scotland, a sire horse who was purchased by General W E Harding of Belle Meade in `857.  There was a graph showing the descendants from Bonnie Scotland which included Secretariat, Seabiscuit, Seattle Slew, American Pharoah...and more.  So that was quite nifty!

Next we traveled a few more miles down a lovely avenue among quite grand homes to Cheekwood.  Cheekwood is a larger estate on a hill.  It has several gardens (which were lovely--though mostly not in bloom yet), the Estate perched on the very top of the hill, and some other smaller buildings.  The estate house building began in `1929-completed in 1932.  It's quite grand--much larger than the Belle Meade manson, and outfitted in high style.  There are also art exhibits inside.  There was a fascinating woven rug wall-hanging made to look like it was melting and stretching, including spaces which were not woven straight-through, but had holes straight through to the wall.  That was our favorite piece.

At the base of one of the gardens is a lovely little model train set-up amid a number of large tree stumps.  The train cars were probably the size of a small cat, and ran on tracks through the trunks, over bridges overhead, and everything was decorated with nature-themed art, including giant mushrooms, bugs, and designs made of rocks or wood.

There was also a Japanese garden, a dogwood garden (which we're glad was *not* in bloom as husband is wildly allergic), a terrace garden, and water garden.

The warmth and humidity of the day finally started to surrender to a lovely brisk breeze and a few sprinkles.  We grabbed some nibbles at the beer garden on the way out, where a country music group was performing, including an instrumental version of "The Devil Went Down to Georgia."

Back to the hotel fairly early, and then we settled in for the evening's exciting weather, including Severe Thunderstorm Warnings and Tornado Warnings on the TV.  So far the tornado warnings have been just north of us, but we did get some amazing sideway rain and waves in the parking lot.  Didn't see much in the way of any lightning, though.

We're on the road early tomorrow--when temperatures should have dropped about 20 degrees.  Looking forward to some cooler and, hopefully, less humid weather.  And fewer tornado warnings!

Welcome to Nashville!

Into the Highlands

This day was everything I wanted from a trip to Scotland.  We were back with Rabbie's Tours, with the same guide, Gordon.  Our trip this time went up the west coast of Loch Lomond, to Inverary, a castle whose name started with K, into Oban, then north to Glencoe, across Rannoch Moor, and then back down around Loch Lomond and down to Glasgow.  There were other stops at some small villages and another castle.

The weather was stunning.  Sun and a few fluffy clouds.  Too hot for my preference, but most places had a breeze.

Compared to our previous stop at Loch Lomond, this one was much better.  A real beach with a real view.  We could clearly see Ben Lomond, and I'm told it doesn't always decide to put in an appearance.  The views were beautiful all the way north.  I am fully willing to agree it is the most beautiful loch in Scotland.

In Inverary, we took a brief stop to see the outside of Inverary Castle, the seat of Clan Campbell.  A very pretty castle indeed.

Just next door is the Georgian town of Inverary, all white-washed and dark-timbered. It's right on a loch and just very picturesque, while at the same time still feeling very alive and lived-in.  I mentioned to the boys when we were there that it was just my speed.

From there we went on to the castle that starts with K.  I'll have to ask Tom to remind me if it's name.  The castle is a ruin.  It used to be the Campbell clan seat before that was moved to Inverary Castle.  It used to be in the middle of a lake, but the waters have receded, so you can walk out to it.  It took us about twelve minutes.

Quinn and I enjoyed poking around in the nooks and crannies and many photographs were taken.  Tom enjoyed it as well, and took several of the photos.  I believe we also encountered our first midges.

Next it was on to Oban, a decently sized fishing village on the coast, which is also where most of the ferries leave for the islands.  We had delicious seafood in a restaurant overlooking the bay.  (Fun fact--Oban translates to Little Bay, so Oban Bay is Little Bay Bay.)

Then we were on to Glencoe.  I had not done my research, so I expected Glencoe was another village.  Incorrect.  Glencoe is the most stunning Glen in the Highlands.  Dramatic hills, beautifully green.  Little waterfalls cascading down.  The fresh, crisp wind, and the ghosts of history.  It is all there in Glencoe.

We parked on the side of the road and with most of the other tour members I clambered up the hillside for a better view.  Here I found myself with my arms spread wide, face to the sky, and the kiss of the wind all around me.  Easily the highlight of the journey, though the next stop gave it a run for its money.

Both boys stayed in the tour bus.  They don't like heights, and everything is certainly precipitous.

Up, then, and out into Rannoch Moor.  This is another place I've long wanted to see.  Miles of moor, much of it peat, scattered with boulders and surrounded by hills.

We made another roadside stop here.  Quinn joined me this time.  We hiked up a small rise that looked out over a small lake with a few trees.  The ground was spongy underfoot.  A strange sensation.  Don't stray from marked paths on Rannoch Moor.  You can sink in places.

There was much more, but I am too tired to do it justice.  All I know is this one day makes the whole journey worthwhile.

The Bonny, Bonny Banks of Loch Lomond

Today was the first of three small group tours with Rabbie's Tours.  We arrived at the pickup point a full hour early, which we will hopefully avoid doing next time.

Our first stop was Stirling Castle, which was built by James the Fifth.  It stands on a volcanic plug over a broad lowland, with the William Wallace monument on a nearby hill.

Here I discovered that Quinn and I share an interest in where random stairs lead and finding stealthy hidey-holes.  Also, every single one of us managed to hit our heads on something.  I was actually ducking when I did it.  I just didn't duck far enough.

The weather has been unusually hot, and I was grateful for the breeze that blew over the hill.  The buildings are impressive as is the artwork inside.  Bright, colorful, and lots of carved wooden faces on the ceiling.

After gathering the rest of the crew, we headed into the Trossachs and Loch Lomond national park.  Lots of nature and lots of twisty roads.  Hooray for Bonine.

We stopped for lunch in a village whose name I can't remember, but it had good food and a wool center where we finally found Quinn a hat.  (He forgot to pack his sunglasses.)

On then to Loch Lomond, the largest lake in Scotland by surface area.  I've long wanted to see Loch Lomond, having grown up with the song referenced in the title of this post.  Tom and I didn't see a lot, though I did touch the water.  Quinn took an optional hike up to a higher vantage point while Tom had some "luxury ice cream."

Our last stop for the day was a whiskey distillery.  Both boys declined to take the tour, but I did it.  This included a tasting of the whiskey, to which, may I just say, "How?  Why?"  It was super strong, even when I cut it with water.

The tour itself was very hot and super stinky.  Basically a sauna that smelled like feet.  Still, it was interesting to learn about the process.

Back to the hotel finally, with take-out sandwiches for dinner, we took the opportunity to cool off before bed, and heading out for another tour tomorrow.

I would be happy if the fabled Scottish weather would kick in.  This heat is blech.

Until tomorrow!

From Evensong to VI-Poo, with some transportation for spice

The boys didn't get a lot of sleep last night.  Quinn read in the lobby for an hour at 3:00 AM.  In the end, though, we all felt much better today.  Tom ordered kippers for part of his breakfast, so Quinn and I both tried our first bites of it.  Surprisingly not bad!

Our plan was to start the day with the City Tours Sightseeing bus, but after three buses didn't show as scheduled, we gave up and walked down to the Riverside Museum, where we discovered why the buses weren't running.  A men's 10k race.

The museum has all varieties of transportation.  Trams, trains, motorcycles, cars, bicycles, tricycles, skateboards, boats, caravans. If you can name it, they probably have it, including the second oldest Rolls Royce in the world.

There were lots of entertaining and educational interpretive videos, some things you could climb on, and enough variety to make the museum consistently engaging.  I enjoyed learning about the Indians and Pakistanis who had come to Glasgow to work on the trams.

After finishing up the museum, we went out and visited the tall ship moored behind it.  Then we discovered the tour buses were finally running.  I'd decided I wanted to attend the Evensong service at Glasgow Cathedral, but the boys didn't want to join me, so I popped off the bus on my own.

I was a bit early, so I visited St. Mungo's Museum of Religious Life and Art.  It was small, but enjoyable.

I also discovered the Glasgow Necropolis, which was quite a surprise, because I'd never heard of it before.  On a hill overlooking the cathedral, it covered with grand and beautiful graves and memorials.

The Evensong service was lovely.  I'm not familiar with the Church of Scotland, but the service very much reminded me of the Anglican service at Canterbury Cathedral.

The choir members wore red robes with red tartan stoles or ties.  They were ten voices strong, and I'd bet they are students from the local colleges.  Very skilled and very young.

There's something impressive about choral music and organs in a cathedral.  Moving and powerful.  I'm glad I went.

After catching the rest of the tour on the bus (with live guide instead of recorded, this time!) I made my way back to the hotel, where the boys were waiting.  We hit the local Sainsbury for food and ate it on a park bench near the hotel.  The same park bench I'd sat on to read yesterday while the boys napped.

Scotland has some very . . . interesting . . . ideas in its commercials.  All three of us were flabbergasted by the VI-Poo commercial, where a young cinema starlet speaks in colorful terms about having to make stinky "number two's" and the embarrassment that follows.  But wait!  Just spray the toilet with VI-Poo and it will prevent unsightly odors, thus making you more likely to get a job?  Or something like that.

Toto, we are not in Kansas anymore.

Heading out of the city tomorrow.  Looking forward to it!

Yay, jet lag!

Our flights went surprisingly well.  No major turbulence and an easy transfer in Reykjavik, despite only fifty minutes between touchdown and take-off.  The IcelandAir folks run a smooth operation.

Quinn was pretty excited to see some of the differences between home and Scotland.  The first--unexpected--difference was the potent humidity.

A lovely gentleman taxi driver brought us to our hotel, with some tight city driving.  We dropped our bags in the lobby and headed off for the Kelvin grove for lunch and attempting to stay awake.

Lunch--success!  Tom had rack of lamb, Quinn had fish & chips, and I went boring with a burger.

The highlight of the Kelvin grove was the pipe organ concert that was going on.  Nice music, beautiful location.

Unfortunately, the heat and the jet lag won, and we all retired to our now-available room.  I tried to get Quinn to stay awake longer, but he slept for about four hours, while Tom & I had about an hour and a half.  I found a nice little park, sat on a bench, and read.

Dinner was Chinese food from a mostly take-away place.  Pretty tasty!

Hoping that we'll finally manage to fight the jet lag enough to make exploring the city a less daunting proposition.

Is it bedtime?  I think it's bedtime.

Until tomorrow!

Scotland, ho!

It's two hours until our plane starts boarding.  We've been in the airport for about two hours already.  The boys had pizza and I had some spaghetti.  Aside from the couple of Luna bars we packed, this will be our last food before Scotland.

It all feels quite surreal.  Quinn just got out of his last final three and a half hours ago.  I wrapped up the last of the prep at work yesterday.  Hopefully getting off the plane in Glasgow will make it real finally.

Despite me asking specifically whether Quinn had packed his sunglasses and compression socks, and him answering in the affirmative, we have already discovered that he forgot both.  Sigh.

Planning to sleep as much as possible on the flight.  Have to wake up to switch planes in Reykjavik, but it's a decently long leg that far.

Hoping to have lots if fun things to share in the coming days.

Scotland!  We're coming for you!

Good Horn, Good Brakes, Good Luck

The last day of my trip to India began late.  I met my driver at noon after spending a slow morning around the hotel, reading by the swimming pool, eating a relaxed breakfast, and generally trying to wrap my head around the fact that today, I was leaving.  For real.

Jaipur to Delhi is a fairly long drive, and though I tried to stay awake and take in every last detail that I could, I did fall asleep off and on.  While I was awake, though, I got to speak with the driver more than I had for the rest of the trip, while Hitesh was still with us.  We were driving on an important Shiva holiday, and every Shiva temple we passed was full of worshipers dressed in bright saris other traditional clothing.  I saw more traditional Indian clothes on this one day than during the rest of the trip combined.  It got to the point where I could tell when we were approaching another temple, because all of a sudden we would start passing groups of women and children walking along the side of the road in their brilliant colors.

I finally asked a question which I'd been wondering about for some time--there are so many different varieties of horns in India, do different types of vehicles come with different types of horns?  In answer to this question I received one of the most oddly profound answers I've ever heard.

"There are three things you need to drive in India.  Do you know what they are?" Keshav asked.

"Watch everything around you, listen to what's coming from behind, and don't hit anything?" I guessed.

Keshav smiled and shook his head.  "Good horn.  Good brakes.  Good luck."

The tiny orange Ganesha idol on the dashboard suddenly made a whole lot of sense.

Out of all the things that I learned in India, this may very well be the one that sticks with me the longest.  Not only is it vital advice for surviving Indian roads, it can be understood and interpreted much more broadly.

I did manage to get home without any major incidents, although I almost missed my plane out of Delhi.  The immigration line in the Delhi airport is vast and nearly immobile.  I made it to my gate with five minutes to spare.  After that, the video screen fell out of the seat back in front of mine and was dangling by its wires like the airplane had been shot and had some internal organ hanging from its veins.  This was the last of my major meltdown moments.  The stress of almost missing the flight, along with the plane deciding to fall apart left me standing behind my seat and crying while the engineer attempted to coax the thing back into place.  A nice fellow passenger tried to talk me down, but I'd already decided it was time for some anti-anxiety medication--the only half a pill I used for the entire trip--and by the time we were airborne, I had settled back down into a gently-medicated mellow.

Upon my return home, I promptly caught a cold, and the combination of jet lag and germs have left me fairly wiped out.  And all that time, I've been struggling to come to grips with everything that I experienced.

I have seen some of the most beautiful and monumental architecture in the world.  I have been steeped in history and culture like well-spiced chai.  I've met some of the kindest people I ever hope to know and experienced the kind of luxury travel that I would never have considered I could indulge in.

At the same time, I've seen people sleeping with stray dogs on the side of the road, where cows are happily eating trash.  I've smelled the Yamuna river, which is so polluted it's hard to imagine what it might once have been, clean and full and gliding past the white domes of the Taj Mahal.  I've celebrated my first glimpse of the sky in four days, because until that point all I had seen was a thick yellow-gray haze of smog.

How do I reconcile these two worlds?  And how does it relate to my everyday life?

I haven't been able to answer those questions yet.  All I know is that I am already longing to return.  I want to take my son with me.  I want him to share these experiences, to see how another part of the world lives.  And to my great joy, he wants to come with me.  I don't know when, and I don't know how, but someday, we will make this journey together.

In the meantime, I will try to incorporate my driver's advice into my life.

Good Horn:  Sometimes you have to let people know you're there.  It's easy to let yourself slide into the background, but that's a good way to be accidentally left behind.  If something is important to you, go for it.  Let people know that it's important.  That you are going there.  Sometimes just telling people your goals is the best way to be sure to accomplish them.

Good Brakes:  Have the ability to stop, and don't be afraid to utilize it.  Saying no is an important skill, and one that I have often failed to use, but it's a vital tool for self-preservation.  Be aware of your own limits, and make sure you don't extend yourself beyond them too far.  A buffer zone is a good thing.

Good Luck:  There are times when your good horn and your good brakes aren't enough.  Sometimes you don't get a choice to say no.  You will be faced with challenges that may seem insurmountable.  I don't have a statue of Ganesha, but I do have my own faith to lean on.  I believe that all people do--even if that faith is in themselves rather than a higher power.  Prayer.  Preparation.  Patience.  These are all things that can work together to help to see you through the rough spots.

So thank you, Keshav, for giving me a whole lot to think about, even though I'm sure you weren't aiming for deep thoughts when you shared your insight.  It's helped me to frame my experiences in a way that I will never forget.

To my husband, who made this all possible, thank you.  It astounds me that you love me enough to send me away, and makes me all the more grateful to have you to come home to.

Thank you for everything.

A Day in Jaipur

I am writing this post from a Starbucks in Shoreline, Washington.  I found that at the end of the tour my heart was too full, and my mind too busy, to try to wrangle thoughts into words.

The last full tour day was spent within the city of Jaipur, known as The Pink City, the capital of the state of Rajasthan.  The story has it that when the Prince of Wales visited Jaipur in 1876, the maharajah had the whole city painted pink to welcome him.  The city is still very pink, although mostly due to the red stone used in the buildings of the old city.  You drive through the old city gates and are immediately wrapped in beautiful red (pink) buildings stretching along both sides of the streets.  The bottom floors are filled with shops selling brilliantly colored fabrics, shoes, apothecary goods, anything you can think of.  The upper levels of the buildings are residences, and many feature detailed facades.  Unlike many other buildings I saw--in Chandni Chowk, for example--these buildings are in nearly universally good repair, at least from the outside.

The most famous facade in the city is known as the Hawa Mahal, the Palace of the Wind.  It is several stories tall and reminds me of a cross section of a beautifully layered wedding cake.  It projects out from the buildings on either side, with red arches lined with white stone and elaborate windows and window screens.  Despite its impressive appearance, the Hawa Mahal is very narrow  It was built so that the ladies of the court could observe the happenings in the marketplace without being seen by outsiders.

Our first stop of the morning was at Jantar Mantar, a complex observatory built by Raja Jai Singh in 1728.  Something that must be understood about India is that astrology plays a major part in daily life.  Astrologers are consulted for all major undertakings--marriages, business deals, breaking ground on new construction--the list goes on.  The Jantar Mantar includes many different types of astrological and astronomical instruments.  There are two sundials, one of which is the biggest in the world--I could only get half of it to fit in my camera.  They are incredibly accurate although, due to IST (Indian Standard Time) and something else that I can't recall, it is off by 38 minutes, so if you do the math, you will have the correct time.  The smaller sundial includes markings allowing accuracy to the minute (if memory serves correctly), while the larger is even more accurate.

There are also astrolabes and concave marble bowls with diagrams of the heavens which have a small metal disk that shines on where a day and time fits into the cosmos.  (I was there during Pisces).  Several of these have both the prototypes and the final version.  It is astonishing to think that this degree of astronomical accuracy was available in 1728.

The next stop was the City Palace, the royal residence, a part of which is still the home of the royal family and not open to the public.  As I have come to expect of India, the architecture is astounding.  Jaipur had a strong relationship with the Mughal emperors, due to the marriage of one of its daughters to Emperor Akbar.  The City Palace exhibits both Rajput and Mughal architectural aspects.

There are displays of textiles, with embroidery I cannot even fathom making with a machine, all of which were, of course, made by hand.  Also, weaponry and two giant silver jars, called gangajali, which were made to carry water from the Ganges river when the maharajah went to England, so that he would not pollute himself by drinking anything else.

A highlight of the City Palace are the four "season" doors, spectacularly painted and carved.  Particularly impressive is the peacock door, with lifelike peacocks protruding from the curved roof.

The last sightseeing stop was The Albert Hall Museum.  This is a very British building, designed by Samuel Swinton Jacob, and it includes a large selection of artifacts.  One thing that caught my attention was a grand piano (closed) in an early room.  I took its picture, partly because I missed playing, and partly because it felt oddly out of place.

I was particularly impressed with several paintings in the Persian style, and enjoyed seeing the many other displays.  I will admit, though, that I was starting to get a little overwhelmed by the onslaught of things, and I also had my one slightly uncomfortable moment of the trip.  Hitesh had sent me off to view more of the interior of the museum and was waiting to meet me.  In that period of time, I encountered two men who followed me through the rooms, "Madam?  Madam?  Madam?" and touching me on the shoulder.  I couldn't figure out what they wanted, and wasn't very comfortable with the attention, so I made a quick exit to find Hitesh, though by the time I did, the men had left.  Still, I was pretty much done at that point.

Some time during this day, I also got to learn about carpet making and block printing, and spent some time doing a bit of shopping.

I was returned to my room for a break before dinner, which was at a restaurant in the city.  This was the only time that I was out of my hotel during the evening hours.  It's a different feel on the roads and in the city.  We stopped for a while on the road to allow a religious procession with a brass band and illuminated lamps to pass by.

The food was delicious, but at the end of the evening it would be time to say farewell to Hitesh.  I had come to consider him a friend and it was difficult to say goodbye.  It reminded me a lot of leaving summer camp and saying farewell to my cabinmates and counselors.  I will never forget my brother in India.

I spent the evening obsessively making certain everything was packed, that I had all my carry-on liquids in their single one-quart bag, and that I was otherwise prepared for the long trip home.

I'll have one more post to go--a bit on the trip home and some wrap-up on my thoughts and feelings surrounding the whole experience.  It's hard to believe that it's really over.

All The Stairs! (Or, Adventures at the Amber Fort)

Since we were already in the city we'd be visiting from, I didn't neet to meet my guide until 10:00 this morning, which left me with the odd experience of having some down time in the AM.  I took advantage of this to explore a bit more of the hotel. It has a nice garden out the back, which I enjoyed a pleasant walk in.

Our first stop for the day was the Amber Fort, which is only about 15 minutes from my hotel.  This fort is impressive.  Built by a Rajput Maharajah, the fort perches on the top of a hill, with a wall that stretches something like 23 kilometers along neighboring mountains, with other forts along the way, and watchtowers dotting the skyline.

Elephants convey visitors up the switchbacking road to the front gate.  At the last minute, after watching the guests lurch back and forth atop their elephants, I decided it was better not to risk the extra seasick inducement, and went up the back road in the car, climbing the last bit of the way.  It felt very good to hike up the hill, and in the early morning, with a strong breeze blowing through the mountains, it was the most comfortable--temperature-wise--that I've been outdoors for this entire trip.

There are two sections of the fort that are open to the public.  The more recent section, from the 17th century, is the first to see, since it was built in front of the older, original 16th century fort.  There is a wide courtyard where the elephants come in and desposit their passengers, and in an alcove above there was a very large drum, and some other musicians.  They finished just shortly after we arrived, which I was a bit sad about, but I was glad we heard some of it.

As I'm coming to expect, the fort included a hall of public audience and a hall of private audience.  There were some spectacular bits of architecture, including a room glittering with inlaid glass on all the walls.  What made me the happiest, though, was all the stairs!  Unlike most of the other places we have visited, which either didn't have stairs and back passages, or they were closed to the public, the Amber Fort has stairs everywhere.  Snaking up from the bottom floor to the second, branching here and there, leading to little crannies where you can look out into supremely three-dimensional views of rooms below, archways overlooking other hilltops . . . a smorgasbord of places to explore.

When we were done with the Fort, or at least we needed to move on to the next activity (there were still more stairs to climb!), we drove out of Jaipur to the village of Samode, where we toured the Samode Palace, once the home of a Maharajah, and had a very tasty lunch.  The palace itself was absolutely stunning, in this case not so much for the architecture, but for the spectacular decorations.  Painting or inlay on every wall.  Mirrors that reflected it all back again.  A gentleman led us through and took photographs of me in all the best places. I haven't looked at them yet, but hopefully at least one of them will be good.

After lunch it was back into the city.  By the time we got back it was nearly 3:00 and time to deposit me back at the hotel.  About an hour later, I got to experience my first weather that was not just plain hot and hazy.  A thunderstorm sprang up, and I was so excited to see it that I decided I had to go out on my tiny balcony.  Now, the doors to the balcony are closed, with a nice sign saying to please keep them that way to keep out mosquitoes. Seems reasonable to me, but I figured I could just sneak out there and the close the doors behind me.

It's a good thing, I didn't quite succeed.  The door way almost completely closed when I realized that there is no handle on the outside.  I had to dig my fingers into the small gap in the door and yank, and if I'd gotten the thing all the way closed, I would have gotten to see how long it takes for the hotel staff to check their email, since I had my Kindle with me and nothing else.  I like the balcony.  I like the thunderstorm. I don't like the idea of being stuck out there for a non-end-specified amount of time.  Still, bullet dodged!

Tomorrow will be spent here in the city.  I'll be seing the Hawa Mahal, the City Palace, and the Jantar Mantar, which includes a giant sundial.  It will be my last real tour day, as the one after is the drive back to Delhi and then hang out at the airport for a long time before flying home.

This has all been a whirlwind.  It's hard to believe it's almost over.

Wow.  I've been to India.

On the road to Jaipur

Today was a much slower paced day, after much here and there yesterday.  The drive from Agra to Jaipur is a long one, but it was broken up by two activities.  First, the ghost city of Fatehpur Sikri.

Fatehpur Sikri was built by the Mughal emperor Akbar.  Akbar had remained childless, despite having three wives, until someone told him of a holy man living not far from Agra, who would bless him so that he would have a child.  Akbar went to see the man and took blessings, and promised that if he was blessed with a child, he would build a city where the holy man lived, so that he would see the child grow.  Not long after, Akbar's son Jehangir was born.

The city was built and Akbar, his wives, and his court lived there for fourteen years, before moving back again to Agra, leaving Fatehpur Sikri behind.

There are lots of nooks and crannies to explore in Fatehpur Sikri, which appeals to my, "Oo!  Here's a dark room!  I must now explore it!" gene.  In and out through the public and private audience spaces, Akbar's rooms, and the rooms of each of his wives, among others.  The carvings are spectacular and there is even some of the original paint in some of the interior rooms.

There were also a LOT of big, yellow, sting-y insects--wasps, I think.  They lurked in doorways, and snuck up on you in courtyards.  Added more spice to my pokings into dark rooms than I might have wanted.  I've been wearing a scarf over my shoulders for the bulk of the trip, to maintain modesty, although most western women I've seen here do not do so, and in the cities there are also many Indians who do not.  That said, I've found my scarf to be exceedingly comfortable, and also useful.  In this case, I took the thing off my neck and wrapped the whole thing around me.  Less available skin = less opportunities for sharp insects, and the mosquitoes that lurked in clouds in the darkest rooms.

From Fatehpur Sikri, we continued the journey, stopping for lunch at a dhaba.  Since I haven't been eating lunch, and Hitesh apparently worried that my one protein bar wasn't enough, he stopped to pick up oranges and bananas from a roadside vendor, so I added one of each to my repast, and I definitely appreciated having them.  The dhaba was situated in the middle of a millet field.  The Aravalli Hills stretch through this section of Rajasthan, and I spotted two forts on the tops of hills in the distance.

One thing that is difficult to adjust to is restroom attendants.  They meet you at the door, usher you to a stall, and hand you towels after you wash your hands, and of course, you tip them.  Nothing at all wrong with that, but it feels very strange to me.  On the plus side, clean bathroom!

To enter Jaipur, you drive through a tunnel in the hills.  There is always lots of honking--and after observing enough Indian driving, I absolutely understand why everybody is honking all the time--but in the tunnel it just reverberates.  There are all varieties of horns.  Simple horns, horns that go up and down, horns that play music . . . it's astonishing how much of a symphony the roads are.

After exiting the tunnel, you start down the hill into the city.  It's an immediate leap into crowded, urban living, on the edge habitability.  Driving through this section of town only makes arriving at my hotel, the Trident, feel even more surreal.  The vast disparity of wealth in India is evident, and it's impossible not to feel moved and concerned.

One way or another, I made it to my destination. There is a beautiful lake outside my window with a small palace that seems to float on the surface.  There are also, for the first time, mosquitoes in the area.  I haven't seen any inside my room, but have finally broken out the repellent.  Malaria is bad.  Dengue is bad.  Zika is bad.  I would prefer to avoid all of them.

To my surprise, my stomach continues to hold up extremely well.  I've been super-cautious in my eating choices.  Nothing but bottled water or hot tea to drink, and when I make tea in my room, I use my SteriPEN (check these things out, they are so neat) on the water before boiling it twice.  I ignore the tempting cut fruits on the breakfast buffets and have been eating vegetarian since I arrived.  No cold cuts. Definitely no salad.  Indian food in the evenings. I'm getting very good at eating with naan, both because I'm not a giant fan of rice, and also because rice is another place where stomach bugs can hide.  So far, so good.  Fingers crossed that it will continue, and I'm going to go find some wood to knock on.

Tomorrow includes a visit to the Amber Fort and the Samode Palace, where I will apparently be having a fancy Rajasthani feast.  I'm hopeful I can eat more than a little of it.

Onward!

A Day in Agra

Today started with a relatively long drive from Delhi to Agra.  I didn't time it, I'm afraid, and I did fall asleep for part of it.  The early stretches were incredibly surreal.  The perpetual haze was as strong as ever, and the road runs past many high-rise buildings under construction.  They loom out of the gray, these clusters of building skeletons, each crowned with a crane.  On and on.  Some day, I'm sure, they will be completed, and residents will move in, but for the moment, they're oddly creepy ghost towns.

We stopped for a break at a dhaba, a roadside restaurant.  In this case, it included things like Subway and Costas Coffee.  I had a snack bar packed, so I ate that.  I also discovered that sometimes, the western-style toilet just isn't worth it.  Too icky, and the Indian option was just much more appetizing.  Grateful to have packed my own TP, though.  This was one of the few places where I didn't have to pay to use the services.

Agra comes up quickly out of fields of potato crops.  So many potatoes, I almost felt like I should have been in Idaho.  The city is almost as crowded as Delhi, but it has a very different feel to it.  The buildings are generally much lower. One or two stories.  Animals proliferate here.  I finally saw my first water buffalo.  And the next, and next, and WOW, that's a lot of water buffalos meandering down the street!  They like to hang out on the banks of the Yamuna river, along with a lot of people doing their laundry.  Given the smell of the river, the last thing I would want to do is wash my clothes in it.  I take that back.  Drinking it or swimming in it are farther down the list.  But still.

The first site we visited today was what Hitesh calls the "Mini Taj."  It was built by Emperor Jehangir's wife as a memorial to her father.  It is very like the Taj Mahal, in that it is built of white marble worked with inlay, has the square gardens around it, and an entry gate.

This may sound somehow sacrilegious, but I actually prefer the Mini Taj to the big one.  Its small (relative) size is not so overwhelming.  The inlay work is in many brilliant colors, with floral designs and wine bottles and other geometric patterns.  It's also much less crowded.  I enjoyed the serenity and the beautiful colors.  Hitesh calls it a jewel box, and that's just about right.

Next, we moved on to the Red Fort at Agra.  This was built by Emperor Akbar, and is very impressive.  As with many things in the area, the bulk of it is built of red sandstone from Rajasthan.  There are several parts to the fort, including a section built for Jehangir, Akbar's son, and the stunning white marble palace where Shah Jahan (who built the Taj Mahal) lived out the end of his life under house arrest.  He could see the Taj from out of the filigree-edged windows of his prison.

Next I got to learn about the dying art of marble inlay work.  It's amazingly intricate, and the work is being done by people who are direct descendants of those who worked on the Taj.

After learning about the inlay process, I checked into my hotel and then it was on to the Taj Mahal.  Firstly, yes, it is as beautiful as all the photos.  It would be more beautiful if there was any actual sky to see, since the white marble tends to wash out in the haze, but I explored all around.  A large number of domestic tourists come to see the monument, and there are two different lines.  General Value and High Value.  As a foreigner, I had a High Value ticket, which meant shorter lines, and basically going straight in.  Hitesh warned me that if there were a lot of Indians going into the mausoleum itself that I should avoid going in, because it gets very suffocating and he wasn't sure I'd handle it well.  I decided to brave the crowd and go in, and I'm glad I did.  There was quite a crush getting in the door, but once inside there was more than half an inch of breathing room between people, and I was able to see the tombs of Mumtaz and Shah Jahan.

In writing this up, I think that I've pinpointed my odd sense of ambivalence about this world wonder.  Its perfection is simply overwhelming. While I can appreciate it on an aesthetic level, I find I'm more comfortable with things that are smaller or less perfect.  I actually spent a decent amount of time walking along the lanes, which are lined with many varieties of native trees, all conveniently labeled so I could know what I was looking at.  Those trees were easier for me to relate to, and I very much enjoyed the opportunity to learn about them.

Please don't take this post to mean that I didn't enjoy the Taj Mahal.  I most certainly did.  But, for me, the quaint Mini Taj and the grand fort were more my speed.

Tomorrow is the longest drive day--from Agra to Jaipur--with a stop at Fatehpur Sikri, a ruined city that was built by Akbar.

And now for bed.  There's been music outside my window for the last several hours.  By far more music here than I've encountered thus far.  Oh, for dinner I had the most delicious dal masala ever.  Super-yummy.

Into the Old City

What a spectacular day.  So many experiences, I hardly know where to begin, so to make things simple, I'll aim for chronological order.

I met my guide at the appointed time.  Well, early actually.  I am pathologically early.  To begin the day, we left the relative spaciousness of New Delhi and drove into old Delhi, stopping first at the Jama Masjid, a mosque built by Shah Jahan, the same man who built the Taj Mahal.  To enter, you must remove your shoes, and all the women were given a slip-on full-body covering, so I found myself swathed in red with tiny white polka dots that was so long I could hardly walk without stepping on the hem.  The architecture is stunning. Apparently, Shah Jahan was a student of architecture himself, and was deeply involved in the planning of his monuments.  The mosque's courtyard is covered with square slabs of red sandstone, each designed to hold one person praying. There are 25,000 squares. That's a LOT of people!

After the masjid came the first true highlight of the day--a bicycle rickshaw ride through Chandni Chowk, the ancient market.  Chandni means full moon, and the market originated as a night market, and continues to function quite late into the evening. At the relatively early hour we went through, there were many shops with their metal screens still closed for the day.

I desperately wish that I could transfer the images from my camera to the Kindle.  In the bicycle rickshaw, everything is right there.  I should have thought to take some video footage.  The pedestrians, other rickshaws, carts, motorcycles, and even cars all cram through lanes so narrow I hardly believed that we all fit.  At one point, another rickshaw got its wheel stuck in the one next to mine, but it was quickly sorted and we were back on our way.

Electrical wires hang like spaghetti-inspired kudzu, draping the narrow spaces between buildings and clumped into black-and-gray bouquets of short circuits you can't quite believe aren't happening.  The smells are overwhelming.  This was the first time I had to use my scarf to cover my nose for a few breaths' respite now and then.  Dogs are everywhere.

The chowk is divided into sections by what is sold in them.  We rode through markets of sari trim, chappals (sandals), optometrists, jewelry, and wedding invitation printers.  So many colors everywhere!  At the spice market, we got out and Hitesh took me on a walk among the many spice vendors.  I couldn't begin to recognize most of the merchandise.  I'm so used to spices being jars of ground-up powder.  It was fascinating to see them laid out in open sacks for purchase.  The smells here were overwhelming as well, but in an entirely pleasant way.

I got cut off at one point and ended up a little behind Hitesh.  When I caught up--he'd noticed I vanished and waited--he told me that I should never come to this place alone.  Because I was with him, people were not pestering me, but by myself I'd draw people very quickly.  I'm sure he's right, but honestly I never felt unsafe at any time.  Of course, I was only on my own for maybe thirty seconds, brave traveler that I am.  Heh.

Despite the chaos, I found myself grinning like a fool for the entirety of the rickshaw ride.  Everything just felt so very alive!

Next on the agenda was a visit to the Raj Ghat--the cremation place of Mahatma Gandhi.  The site is an oasis of calm.  Wide lawns, roses, bougainvillea, and eucalyptus trees.  Once more it was time to take off shoes, and this time I left them with Hitesh and went in to see the ghat on my own.  It's a black marble slab, decked with flowers, with an eternally burning flame.  There are words on the stone written in Hindi, and I was proud to discover I could read them.  Hai Ram.  Gandhi's last words after he was shot.

By now it was getting very hot.  I've been trying not to drink too much water, because bathrooms are a bit sketchy for finding, so I was starting to get a bit overheated.  The AC in the car helped a lot, but when we arrived at our last stop, the Qutub Minar Complex, I was afraid I wouldn't have the stamina to do it much justice.  Turns out, the ruins are spectacular, and I couldn't help myself from exploring them fully, and taking lots of pictures in the process.  The Qutub Minar was apparently the first minaret in the region (dated 1192).  It's very tall and impressive and, like many things in the region, made of red sandstone.

The man who built the mosque there (I've forgotten his name--will ask Hitesh in the morning) was in a large hurry to do so, and as a method for speeding things up, he had many Hindu and Jain temples torn down to use for materials.  Hence, we now have the ruins of an Islamic mosque (wherein iconography is forbidden), filled with pillars carved full of Hindu and Jain imagery.  It's an astonishing thing to see.

The ruins of the mosque, and the associated school and other buildings, including a partially built second minar, are captivating.  So many layers of red walls, casting the next into relief.  The shadows and light, the views of the minar through free-standing archways . . . if I hadn't been so hot and lightheaded I could have kept exploring for a very long time.  As it is, it was the better choice to return to the hotel and drink all the water, and recover for tomorrow, when we leave early to head for Agra.  Taj Mahal coming soon!

Two small things today were special highlights, both involving language.  First, at the Qutub complex, after Hitesh bought the tickets, he came to get me and said, "Chalo."  And, of course, I knew exactly what that meant.  "Let's go."  I appreciate that he is giving me the opportunity to make use of my (minimal) knowledge of Hindi.  (New word for the day--nai, barbershop.  About as useful as goli, bullet.)

Second, at the Raj Ghat, I went to use the washroom. There was a line, and several Indian women.  They were very concerned and wanted to be sure that I understood that there was no commode--in other words, no Western-style toilets.  I was able to tell them, "Teek hai, dhanyavad."  ("It's okay, thank you.")  They wanted to know where I was from and were very friendly.  When I left, they were outside and they waved and smiled, and seemed befuddled by this western woman who spoke a little Hindi and didn't mind having to use the Indian toilets.  Really made me happy.  Success!

Small Group Tour? I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means

When I signed up for my "small group tour," one of the reasons I chose the company I did is that they guarantee their departures.  I work for a church and the amount of planning involved in making it possible for me to take extended time off makes flexibility in scheduling a bit of an issue.  Turns out, it was a good thing that I went with the provider that I did.  My small group tour is more of a micro-group tour, as I am the only person on it.  Most companies would cancel the departure with only one person signed up.

Aside from a fairly high guilt factor, in that I'm traveling around India with both a driver and a tour guide, and there's only one of me, this does have certain advantages.  Those who have traveled with me know of my penchant for just sort of wandering off on my own, and that I don't travel well in a herd.  My guide's name is Hitesh, and he's doing a lovely job of giving me the history and important information about the sights I am seeing, then letting me go explore at my own pace.  So, if I want to spend time hanging out with a really cool tree, that's totally okay!  Because the schedules are built around a larger group, it means that I have plenty of time to fully immerse myself in what I'm seeing.

It seems that I'm a bit more well-versed in the history and culture of India than many of the folks who visit, so we're able to spend some time on other things as well.  Since I shared that I've been working on learning Hindi, Hitesh is making sure to introduce me to new vocabulary.  I'm not sure how much of it I'll remember, but one of the new things that I'm seeing everywhere are kites--the raptor variety, not the on-a-string kind--and I now know to call them cheel.

Today, I visited Humayun's Tomb, the Sikh Bangla Sahib Gurudwara, and the National Museum.

Humayun was the second of the Mughal emperors, and he apparently died by falling down the stairs while reading.  His tomb is a stunning building--it was a major inspiration for the Taj Mahal.  The walls are of red sandstone with white marble decorations.  I learned that what looks a bit like Stars of David are in fact a Hindu design, with two triangles representing the trinities of Bramha, Vishu, and Shiva, and their consorts Saraswati, Lakshmi, and Parvati, and in the center there is a lotus flower.

For such a beautiful location (the gardens and grounds, as well as the tomb itself) there were surprisingly few people.  I think I saw more pigeons (kabootar--though I already knew that one).  This was a highlight of the day.

Among my many bad habits is the one where I bring a camera with me and then promptly forget to use it.  Hitesh is doing a good job of reminding me to do so, so I do have photos, although I can't get them off the camera onto my Kindle, so it will have to wait until I am home to share.

The Bangla Sahib Gurudwara was a lovely experience.  It is a requirement that everyone cover their heads when they enter, as well as take off shoes and socks.  To get inside you walk through a small pool to clean your feet.  Inside the Gurudwara, there are people venerating the book that lives there--it is treated as a god and has its own room it retires to at night.  Men are singing and playing music.  Even in such an old building, I discovered that technology is alive and well.  There was a video screen showing the text of what was being sung (I believe), in both Hindi and English.

The National Museum holds a large collection of artifacts from as far back as the Harappan culture, through the Mauryas, Guptas, Mughals, and on through the present day.  As a musician, I very much appreciated the collection of musical instruments.  So many sitars!  So much artistry in their making!  Other highlights included the arms and armor display and the woodworking room.  It was also interesting to observe the museum's under-construction avatar.  Rooms were closed off, but there were also piles of wood in the open hallways, dust everywhere, and the constant pounding of hammers.  I did not find that this dulled my enjoyment of the museum. Indeed, it was fascination to see, and it's good that care is being taken with the building and the displays.

On the way home, I got to observe more of the parked cars vendors.  While traffic was at a standstill there was a virtual market full of people knocking on windows, selling everything from flowers, to bubble guns (no, that's not a typo), to lumbar supports (I think), to books (including Fifty Shades of Grey!).

I'm still healthy, and appear to have managed to survive the jet lag.  Feeling excited for tomorrow, and ready to learn more things.

All the learning!  So grateful to have this opportunity.

A Drive Through Delhi

Indian traffic.  You can read about it--it's terrible, lines are suggestions, everybody honks all the time, there are all sorts of vehicles, people, and animals in the roads--but until you actually experience it, you don't really understand.

In the good news department, I did my homework, and I knew what to expect, so instead of having ALL THE PANIC as every car, truck, motorcycle, auto-rickshaw, and bicycle delivery vehicle became dancers in a truly intimate tango to the music of blaring car horns, I sat up straight and watched.  There has to be some method to the madness.  Despite having people coming within what had to be an inch of the vehicle on all sides, I saw not a single accident on the way from the airport to the hotel, which took about an hour to get to, since I arrived during rush hour.

People wandered through the mayhem of four "lanes" of drivers all trying to funnel into one.  Drivers just stopped in the middle of the street.  Delivery vehicles drove the wrong way down the road.  A goat meandered into the traffic, only to be herded back to the roadside shop where it lived.  At a point where everyone was stopped, a woman with an infant made the rounds, knocking on car windows, making an eating gesture.  Someone gave her an orange.  She was very insistent when she knocked on my window.  I felt like a very bad person when I did not give her anything.  (The issue of beggars in India is a huge one, and worth an entire separate blog--basically, if you're moved by the plight of the poor, and it's impossible not to be, there are better ways to help. I expect this conflicting sense of guilt to be a continuing struggle during my stay here.)

I spotted at least four men peeing on walls.  The smell of the city is very strong.  According to the CDC, Delhi has the worst air pollution in the world.  I believe it.  I'm very grateful that I don't suffer from asthma, or other respiratory issues.  There is refuse everywhere, although I did see a large number of people sweeping the sides of the roads.

To try to stay awake, I walked out the (guarded) gate of my hotel, into an alleyway, where I shadowed locals to walk among the vehicles to the Select CityWalk, a high end shopping mall full of things like United Colors of Benneton, Forever 21, and Guess.  To get into the mall--and my hotel, for that matter--you have to go through a metal detector, and send your bag through a scanner, or have it looked through manually by a guard.  It's a mixed feeling of security that these measures are taken, and sadness that they appear to be necessary.

I managed to stay awake until 4:45 PM, then gave up and slept. Woke up at 11:00 PM, took Ambien, and then slept right on through until 6:00 AM.  Hoping that I did a good enough job to kick my jet lag away.  That stuff is no joke!

So far, everyone I've encountered has been unfailingly polite, and I'm settling well.  Today I'll meet my guide (met the driver yesterday), and anybody else who is a member of my tour, then it's off to begin exploring more of New Delhi.

Onward!