The Begining of a Journey

Feb 5, 2009
So as an opener I just want to say I have created this blog as a journal of my trip and as a record of my adventure to discover self. I hope to make you laugh, I hope to make you cry, I even have aspirations of inspiring some of you... but most of all I hope to peel away the layers one by one and discover a self I only seldom connect with, a self I should listen to more but often ignore. If nothing else I wish on my journey to get one step closer to joy.

For those of you who do not know, I have had a rough couple of years with many ups and many downs although it seemed more downs than ups at the time. I struggled, I fought, I cried and I laughed, but thanks to the love of my friends, the support of my family and the drive within... I prevailed.

All of a sudden I have found myself at the brilliant age of 41 (try not to read that with the sarcastic tone I am typing with) and I am asking myself... What Now, Which Way, What Have I Done, What am I Going to Do? The more I sat thinking, the more the thoughts started to feel like they were enveloping me, creeping up and tying me down as if I had shackels connected to my very soul.

It is interesting how crisis can bring to the very brim.. who you are, who you could be, what people think of you and what they may expect of you. The thing is though, for many years I have struggled... Struggled with the image of self I projected, sometimes getting in my own way resisting whatever good was headed toward me. Some people connected with my vibration truly seeing who I was. That is the self I hope to connect with.

With all this said, I had decided the best way to journey into self was to change it all up, taking some time reflecting on what I like in myself and making it better while deleting the parts of my symphony that seem out of tune. Aptly put as a DJ produces his music refining it into an even better product, I am about to remix myself!

India.

FEB 12, 2009
Well at long last you are probably thinking. You see the last few weeks has been quite a handful.. so much to think about really and on top of that my hard drive crashed and i lost everything on it!!! Luckily I have wonder woman for a mom and she rummaged through the mess I left at home as a badger would a pile of leaves and TAADAA.. my old drive was found.. and will be sent to me via FedEx.. phew! You will have to excuse my first few blog entries as they will not have any pictures attached since all my initial pics were lost in my drive crash, I have however stolen some from the net to make things more fun!

So...my trip began with exquisite luxury. I had booked myself executive class (thank god for air miles) with British Airways all the way from Toronto to London.. a short three hour stopover and then off to Mumbai in executive class. What Luxury, I decided that this had to be high in my list of manifestations, I would fly this way always... some day soon! Just have a look at my seat!!


yep...thats my seat!

A short few hours of being pampered with the best champagne, chocolates, delightful menu along with crumpets and tea right before we landed, what more could one ask for. I was on my way to India and yet I already felt as if I was a Maharajah (Indian king.. for my simple friends..haha)


Upon arrival in Heathrow I headed for the BA executive lounge which in terms of decor could be easily mistaken for a Boutique Hotel. Most nightclubs would be put to shame seeing all the premium liquor this lounge was stacked with. Only thing, I was already pretty wobbly from the bottle of Champagne I had on board so I stuck to tea, how British of me. So exploring the lounges two floors, I discovered there was a mini Spa treatment room offering Massage, surely this must have been for First Class passengers only...but to my surprise it was open to me too and completely free! So i booked my self in for a massage and mini facial. I was promptly showed to a tranquil private area and seated in a chair that looked like a plush leather version of some of the machinery you would find in a science fiction movie. The sound of the music, the tranquil space, the wonderful scents were all in perfect symphony like the notes in a good glass of wine.

elemis spa lounge

As I sank into the chair, its seductive vibration touched every aching piece of my body waving its magic wand of relief. While this was happening a wonderful soft set of hands slowly rubbed my face with all kinds of hot cloths and wonderfully scented lotions and potions. I had surrendered. I was under their spell. Fifteen minutes whizzed by, but it was true magic, I was revived and ready for the next leg of my journey to mystical India. A few short hours passed and I found myself landing in the Manhattan of the east, Mumbai.

mumbai, a city being born

Mayhem In Mumbai

Feb 28, 2010

Sweet, sweet, bitter sweet Mumbai. City of paradox, city of riddle, city of imbalance. Imagine a place in which the wealthy are so rich some choose to show their abundance by gold plating their front door, or perhaps they adorn their wives in 24karat jewels that are so heavily crusted with diamonds they just ooze with Bling. 

Imagine a world where with one blink you can see a three hundred thousand dollar Bentley and the next a legless man so poor that he pulls himself along the road not caring about the road chafing away at his tender skin.

Walking into some
hotels, floors and walls are soaked in Carrera marble from Italy as if to say
the Indian brands just won't do. To look up in these properties, you would see
a chandelier so grand, even those placed in the symphony rooms of Vienna
come a distant second. The restaurants in this city, of which there are so
many excellent and delicious choices, are not hungry for your business. In
fact in some cases they are so overfed with clients that you are given a
time limit to enjoy your meal. Come Saturday night if you have not planned
well ahead and booked your favorite spot...you may be eating from a roadside
vendor and wishing the next morning that you had not. 

Walking in the
streets of Mumbai is a treat, a horror and an education. As cars whiz by
tooting, and zigzagging between each other as if they are in some horribly
choreographed routine, you cant help but wonder how none of them are
actually hitting you. To cross the road (a true Leap of faith) you are privy to
the universal fact that we are all connected.

Imagine being a part of a bloodstream where so many microorganisms are moving so fast all with their own purpose but all somehow flowing with and respecting the others.  Waiting for the tiniest opening in the traffic (3feet if you’re especially lucky) you jump in and join with the existing stream and you start your journey of faith across the road. 

Step by step you see cars and rickshaws tooting at each other and sometimes at you all swishing and maneuvering not to touch you or each other. Diagonally you are pushed with the pulse of the traffic as if there was a strong current to this gushing stream of energy. Before you know it, you have crossed in one piece; you have reached the other side! I am told the rule of trust is very apparent in the driving here. You see the main and only real rule is to watch your front end...trust that behind you all is that it should be... Trust...it works! 

Walking the small and usually overcrowded streets you see the harsh
realities of being in a city with a population density of 30 thousand people
every square Km leaving the ever growing population at over (and please excuse
my passive humor) 18 million wonderful and delightfully pleasant souls, each of
one with their own opinion and view on how things should be, each one trying to
follow or beat the system. You see India is the planets largest democracy, and that does
not always help gets things done as so many differing views can also lead to a
slow paced struggle forward. Riding through the city on a rickshaw (a definite
MUST)... Yu are zoomed in and out of traffic putting around, all the while
spitting out fumes and black smoke from a modified 2 stroke engine and
doing your very own little bit to add to global warming. As you travel from
area to area, place to place... you are delighted with so many scents from the
beautiful aroma of pure jasmine incense to the foul stench of month old
garbage...so bad you almost wonder how long you can hold your breath on
this stretch of your adventure. It's sometimes so potent, your brain sends
you a signal and you can almost taste it...  Blaghhh.

But it is not until you find yourself arguing and
I mean arguing to the point where you feel a dryness filling the back of
your throat, and the surge of your heart beat is making you flush
with fiery cheeks and you realize your voice is elevated beyond the
point of polite, it is not until you reach this very point (and you
have all been there) that you have truly experienced the joys of
Mumbai.  Realizing it was all over 50 rupees (the equivalent of $1.25) I
told myself " it was the point not the money" and politely
excused myself in an embarrassed state... I also decided that Perhaps it was
time to leave this maddening metropolis of the east...Mumbai!

Fly To Dubai

February 2010

Funny how the smallest, seemingly unrelated thing will catapault us into our reality. There I am on an emirates flight to Dubai, excitement running through me, as it is my first time to this part of the world. For me visiting a new place I have never seen, as I have had the fortune of being quite well traveled is a feeling akin to the cracking open of a new best selling book, the feeling you got when you were six and your mom tells you she saw the carnival setting up in town...its Friday afternoon and since u were good this week, she has decided to treat you with a visit!

So while watching the entertainment on board and reflecting on the good fortune I manifested in the last few days in Mumbai, I flick through the channels and end up watching an episode of Dragons Den, the UK edition (my favorite reality show involving venture capitalists who sometimes choose to invest in new start up business ideas). The episode was focusing on one dragon in particular, a Pakistani James Khan who disappointed his father but pushed forward in his own vision, a passion he could feel and understand and is now one of the five richest men in Britain. Right after that show, I end watching a show I normally would not even stop for. It is the ending of a segment on a young guy who rock climbs “solo". For those like me who did not fully understand, let's sum it up. Rock climbing solo encapsulates this guy climbing alone and with no equipment 1800 ft to the top of his chosen peak. WOW, I had asked universe to show me trust again and here is a prime example. Solo... So does this guy feel alone as I do in the quest for my truth? Does he feel the same isolation I feel in once again disappointing my dad and yet having to stay true to myself? You see in the past I always succumbed to my insecurity in my own choices, my doubt and lack of trust in self... And it is this reason I feel I was doomed to repeat this very same lesson. 

Climbing the ragged cliff face, intimidating in it's very existence and that with no equipment! I cant help but in vein, to notice the similarity in this climber braving his task with no equipment but himself, to my plight of achieving my goals with the only obstacle and only piece of equipment really being myself. In my ever investigative and analytical style, I notice the metaphor between the climbers world and mine... "It's because I find it difficult is why I am doing it, I need a challenge", these are the words he spoke. Like bringing an old rusty engine back to life with the magnetic charge of some high voltage booster cables, I too am looking for a challenge, one that invigorates me, one that excites me, an opportunity that fills me with the drive, the purpose and the passion that is experienced when all great things are achieved. Like a man who scales up a cliff 1800ft "solo" or a master illusionist like Chris Angel, who can bring you to tears with the perfection of his trickery, I too want to dare, I too wish to make a difference and I too wish for passion in my purpose.

Upon arrival in Dubai I am reminded of all things great, of the spirit of grandeur, of cleanliness and of course of money. You see the city is perfection, all the stores you could imagine and more, expensive cars at every turn, buildings that would rival any metropolitan epicenter. And the weather... Just short of perfect! I could get used to this place. With only two days and three nights, I had no time to waste. Arriving at a wonderful hotel in the centre of this oasis called a city, I was of course greeted by the wonderful aunts.

All smiles and of course shopping mad they greeted me with a familiar warmth, the kind you get when you come home for Christmas, it felt good to be home I thought. Of course before I could settle into any hotel sofa, my aunt Salu had me ready and revved for a brisk walk along the harbor. One of my favorite walks during our trip, my aunt showed me the shipyards in Dubai. It wasn't like any other I had ever seen. You see there were no guard dogs and padlocks or large locked warehouses were nowhere in site all that could be seen were the orderly stacks of open cargo on pallets all along the road... A public road I might add. So imagine you are walking down the street and you see an orderly cue of boats (both large and small) just waiting for their chance to fill their hungry cargo bays in the morning. What I most intriguing is the similar cue of open cargo, by open I mean stacks of DVD players and auto parts, some food products and even some toys...none of it shrink wrapped, none of it guarded and none of it behind lock and chain.

Try that in New York City! There is of course one main and defining difference between the two tales... In New York if you steal, perhaps you go to court maybe even a sentence, in Dubai caught three times and it's off to the king to decide of you hands should be chopped off! A quick and shrill reminder of where we were.

A city where looks are beyond amazing, but order and regime will be kept at whatever cost. An oasis where if you are caught in an accident with a local Arab (yes the ones who adorn their head dress and white robes...usually citizens of Dubai), it will be deemed your fault...in every case… that is law. Not really fair? Ask them if they care, I think NOT. One of my high notes on this leg of my trip was once again the amazing appearance of my buddy Imo.

It's funny, we have never had opportunity to spend much time together and now I got to revel in the enjoyment of having him all to myself as his wife was enjoying some alone time with her folks. We decided to do a desert safari... a must for every visitor to this sandy paradise. We were whisked off to the middle of the desert in a Chevy Tahoe. A few minutes in and we found ourselves amongst dozens of other sport utilities. The trucks meet up in an area and then in a cobra like fashion they begin a high speed weave, four by fouring up and down the sand dunes at great speeds. 

At one point I was actually sweating from fear as our driver although good was relatively new at the game. For twenty minutes we all tail gated each other only to arrive at a tented and staged area where food, some not so pretty belly dancers and thank god for beer...(ahhh cold beer in a desert)... awaited us. All in all it was a fantastic voyage and being with my buddy Imo added to the fun.

Some of the other amazing highlights of this wonderland are the re-creation of the city of Atlantis, a mega water play and fun centre including all you could imagine. An entire development of homes built on reclaimed land, which is visible from space I might add...all in the shape of a palm tree. Fancy skiing? The worlds first indoor ski centre available all year round, is right here. Worlds tallest building, yep its here. The worlds only seven star hotel...in Dubai. 

As if this wasn't enough, they are continuing their expansion of a new commercial centre that when completed will be four times the size of Hong Kong! So if you can handle the silent ego that runs through the Arab population and the scarcity of alcohol outside the hotel or registered clubs, oh yes and if you like sand, lots and lots of sand then...Dubai could be just your ticket!

The Mystery In Manifestation

Sometime In February 2010.

Manifesting something is a simple but old magic. 

Borrowing from the energies of all that we are connected to, something that is visioned becomes real. It is our choice then to open our eyes into seeing what has been created. Wow...that was deep even for me! I have fallen a little behind in my updates so focusing on the positive here are some magical moments of things manifested on my journey so far...

A few days after arriving in Mumbai, I was graciously treated to a few days in a place aptly named as Gods Country... Kerala. Somewhere I had wished to go for years. Thanks to my dad and step mom and aunts, I saw the place in a style fit for only kings. You see they had booked us to stay in a luscious five star property named the Leela at Kovalam.

Arriving we were greeted by a modern contemporary designed open-air lobby bearing all the luxuries of a mid oasis palace. 

We were graced with soft enchanting music and friendly staff who upon entering the hotel (the first time) would put a red dot on your forehead and welcome you by your name to your new found home. As you are seated in sultry, soft and crisply clean linen couch, your eyes feast on a magnificent view of the un-spoilt and invitingly calm sea perched just beyond a crystal blue infinity swimming pool that merges seamlessly with the horizon. Just as you are enjoying the soft breeze and gentle floral smells that waft by, you are each handed a fresh green coconut bearing a straw and brimming with it's sweet nectar. As you wonder if you will ever want to leave this paradise a member of the front desk heads over to you, greets you with your name again as if they already know you from past visits and hands you keys and directions to your very own cottage, the experience was so overwhelmingly beautiful it had at one point, actually brought me to tears, how magnificent!

Another spell of bad to good was the pain, alienation and I felt when I realized I was no longer fitting in to my fathers home as family but had somehow become a guest who was not completely welcome, which led to my departure and good fortune in being invited by my crazy, fun loving and always on the go aunties to accompany them to Dubai!

It is funny how luxury seems to follow me; you see on the last night before my aunts left for Dubai, I had decided to stay an extra night in Mumbai on my own. With the gracious help of my aunt Salu (the seasoned camper in her hay day) we ventured in and out of all kinds of crazy hostels and cheap and cheerful (sometimes Rat or cockroach infested places) in search of my next abode. The good sport that she is, she encouraged me to have a look at different places, but all the while I could feel her heart sinking as her maternal mode was kicking in and in the spirit of all my aunts she only wanted me to have the best. We decided a place outside of town in Juhu seemed the best possible choice at 2000 rupees or $50 a night. The day they left my lovely aunts had graced me with a late check out of their five star property, and because of their networking skills I was able to enjoy the pool and facilities at the Taj hotel in Bandra (a part of Mumbai) until the evening.

As I sat in luxury all day, I enjoyed the sun beating on my skin while sipping on cool beers by the crystal blue waters of a huge pool. I thought to myself "I'll stay here as long as I can and then trudge off to this second rate accommodation". You see it was really about the fear racing and toying with my mind, for I was about to begin the backpacking trip I had planned. I had been so used to luxury these last few weeks (thanks to my family) that I was petrified about what I may have got myself into. It was like all the wonderful icing on this cake had been slowly licked off and now you were faced with the chore of stomaching the entire cake...doesn’t sound bad until you realize the cake is that awful fruit cake only your grandma eats! So come 7.30pm I thought it was high time I hamper down and deal with this melding into the world of the working class, the world where a Swiss army knife is actually a useful gift and where sweatshirts double up as pillows... Where the heck was I headed? As I was walking to the change room a young gentleman from Assam smiled at me, it was definitely one of those come get me, James Bond smiles, the kind that is subtle yet screams "TAKE ME NOW!" all at the same time. Anyways he wasn't really my type so I just headed to the change room for one last sauna before I left.  It wasn’t as if I needed anymore heat, but I thought to myself the slower I got into this backpacking world, the better. Before I knew it the young gentleman had too decided heat was the flavor of the day, as we conversed, I told him of my departure to a less affluent property for the night, which is when he offered me to stay the night at his room for free if I wished. You could say the sauna was getting a little too hot to handle, I politely declined and so as not to break his heart, I told him I would at least join him for a drink before I left the property. An hour later I had finished some Internet tasks and squeezing away some more play time in the playground of the rich... I decided it was high time to hit the road to poverty bay: Aka $50 night, not $300. Keeping my word I called the young gentleman and wandered to his room for a farewell drink, I assured him it was just a drink and headed up. Approaching the room I noticed it was on the second highest floor, an executive floor, how curious. 

Upon walking into this hidden treasure, I was flabbergasted...this place was an entire executive suite! A Kitchen, a living room, a bathroom the size of my aunt’s room and a huge bedroom, this place had everything! Ordering a drink I was pleasantly surprised by the immediate presence of a butler to pour and serve our drinks. As we chatted over the most exquisite nuts (no pun intended) and sipped on our cocktails, the youngling told me of his partner. You see the person I had met was dating someone who was away on a work assignment for a few days, that someone happened to be the VP of one of the largest banks in the British Isles and this was actually his room. My young friend told me the offer was still open if I wanted to stay and he understood it would be perfectly plutonic. 

Thats the bathroom!!!

How could disagree, if I would be sleeping and bathing in the lair of some high flying bank executive then surely some of his good fortune and energy would rub off on me here. I agreed and sent for the butler to fetch my backpack from the lobby, I had gone from a regular room to a personal butler suite... Looks like I was moving up in the world not down!  This backpacking trip was really kind of fun.

A Taste of Paradise

Early In March 2010

So seems things have been going full speed ahead for the last few weeks.

Palaces, people, places, cities, towns, and countries... looks like I'm really cramming it all in. Not by design, it just seems I have been with people since my arrival. In fact if you count the minutes ...until last night I have been with family or just random souls here and there every night. Some of those nights were up and some down. All of these thoughts and moments had culminated and I found myself in Goa...

Known for it's early days trance scene and once occupied by the Portuguese, this once quiet and quaint city has grown into a tourist Mecca. As Miami is to New Yorkers, Goa is a quick and easy getaway for most Mumbai-kers. The fast paced, goal geared and money minded clans head here for their piece of paradise. The last time I visited here it was pre millennium, 1997 to be exact. Landing here you are greeted with ariel views of long and what from the plane seems like serene, silky white beaches and calm pristine blue waters. The dirt in Goa is a beautiful red brick color, but be warned the color sticks to you. Soon enough your sparkly white new addidas will take on this strange salmon like aura. Waiting for my bags I am reminded of the sheer density in India’s population. The flights arrive in synch one after the next... like birds flying south these planes come bearing their gifts, hundreds of eager tourists all wanting their taste of paradise.

Picked up at the airport I am zoomed and weaved through traffic with graceful ease. The speed at which this driver travels makes me wonder if he still values his life or mine. With white knuckles I grip whatever I can inside the car and inspect the beauty that whizzes by outside. Subtle differences like more freestanding homes, less busy streets and fewer horns tooting seem to spell out the fact that I have reached the place to be. Pulling up to my quaint but oddly situated accommodation (on the back lane off a back lane next to a local temple, not that there's many of those in India) I check in and to my pleasant surprise my budget holiday from society, as I know it has begun. The room a quaint tiled insecticide scented room with a toilet come shower welcomes me, the piece-da-resitance Is two lovely folded towels in oddly molded flower shapes come puddles (think plant life at a nuclear testing site) at the end of a rock hard bed, or as I like to call it, my boutique back repair resting site (sounds a little better that way) the bedding is a blanket and oil stained, off white (trying to be white sheet) accompanied with some quaint lumpy sock like pillows ... Mmm I wonder how many people have sweated their feverish brows on these beauties. Shortly after I check in and kill a few flying things, I ask the front desk if there is a safe in my room? They just stare at me as if I am some creature from another planet. I assumed at that point, all bets for room service were off. With the advent of no safe and a kind offer from the man at the front (front desk would be overstating) to look after my valuables personally I instead resorted to a Charlie’s angel/ MacGyver move and rigged the straps on my backpack through the handles of a creature friendly closet and secured them shut, I now had my very own room safe... Lovely!  

Feeling secure, I ventured out in search of perhaps a better solution to my accommodation as there seemed to be cheaper choices and probably just as GI Joe as this room so what the hec. Within minutes off walking I am greeted head on by a family of stray kitty cats (so cute) and a smelly old cow that I nearly bump into while sending a text. 
Looking at many other rooms, I realize my choices are plentiful and at lower prices too. I also notice the abundance of overly tanned some times lobster like tourists of all ages, most of which looked as if they had the misfortune of staying in hotels with no bathing facilities whatsoever. Even some of the poorest Indians had better grooming skills, but it was definately a close race. I wondered if this is how I would look at the end of my journey, like a dirty garden gnome that forgot to shave for month...hmmm. I finally found a place recommended by Lonely Planet Guide called Indian kitchen... cute and for 1200 rupees (negotiated down from 1500... God I'm Indian, It's what we do, argue on price) which is the equivalent of $30, I find that I can have a one bedroom apartment with wifi for 300 rupees less than what I'm paying. NICE! (But beware this is what they told me to get me to check in and upon check out, not having gotten my agreed rate in writing, they changed their minds and cheated me into paying 1500 rupees a night. If I did not, they had threatened to keep my bags.) Guess they needed it more than I did.

Come the late afternoon I ventured out to Baga Beach. A hotbed of activity I am told. Well, arriving I see that there has been a very eager employee in the beach business permit area. Every square inch of beach had a different restaurant-come-rundown shack on it. WOW, I had to take a deep breath and attempted a peaceful walk, all the while wondering why I am humming the theme from Mission Impossible. In this part of Goa, which has borrowed pieces of Ibiza, Greece, Miami and Mexico, finding serenity is a pretty difficult task. At every inch you see a glowing toy for sale, if not a fire show of some sort and each bar fights for it's right to make a statement with it's own music. My personal favorite was how aggressively they try to usher you onto one of their beach seats as a farmer would his cow right before auction...CRAZY!

                                                   Fire Dancer

Not knowing what to do or how to take it in, I decide to head toward destination drunk. Having followed a tip from a friend I met in Mumbai, I end up taking a taxi to another part of town in Search of a gay hangout. Upon arrival I see nothing but straight couples sixty plus in an upstairs open patio area sipping the drinks available. Where had I got to, it felt like I was on a cruise to Alaska... Only here I could leave if I chose. Meeting the lovely owners Jeff and Simon, I am briefed on the lack of a gay scene in this part of the world. The last owners of a gay bar were eventually beaten by the police and driven back home to the USA, along with their western madness. Drink after drink I become more relaxed to the fact that I was stuck in a hellish paradise, one that wanted me back in the closet!

The end of the night saw me stumbling into a taxi and safely home.

It was the morning that started with a KAPOW... As I finally regurgitated my midnight snack at 10am, Ouch is that my head, how can I feel this awful and still be alive... Ughhhh. A few more drunk nights, walks on a crowded beach where Indians all crowd in a central few pockets (think peewee hockey where all the players rush onto one square foot of ice), having to negotiate with rickshaw drivers who refuse to drive using their meters, an endless supply of hungry Mosquito’s, some fishy smelling meals and some magnificent sunsets…
An Awesome Sunset with my Little Camera!

I was happily in a taxi on my way to the airport out of here! Perhaps the Andaman’s would be better… at least I hoped so.

Ouch in the Andamans

The first week of March 2010

Today was a strange day. Revelations, complete bliss, contentment and a dog bite... Yep you read it right, a dog bite… A bad one at that! You see it was my second day in the Andaman’s aka paradise. I am on an island called Havelock. It is a short 1.5 hr high-speed ferry ride from port Blair, the main airport of the Andaman and Nicobar islands. An Indian governed small collection of islands in between Thailand and India. The intrigue of these islands is that it is the last place in the planet where there are still tribes who have not had much symbiotic contact with and do not wish to merge with civilization as the Indians have branded it...can't really blame them can you? Considering this there are parts of the islands that are still strictly forbidden to any tourist or Indian national as the government makes some effort to respect the indigenous people…aside from building a road right through the middle of one of the aggressive tribes (known as the Jarawa) territory 

Much like a rooster before a cock fight the Indian government has done this perhaps to remind the Jawari who the land belongs to...quite sad really.So arriving in Port Blair after the constant madness of mainland India, you are transported into another world. People are happy people are friendly. They allseem to smile and are more than willing to help you in whatever your request may be.   

 

An example of this would be how the owner of a guest house in Port Blair sacrificed the possibility of me staying with him a night and instead helped me to secure a ferry ticket along with a contact to help me find accommodation on Havelock the same day I arrived. This way I would have more time on the island where I wanted to be. 

Whisked away by this high speed, really modern ferry for 650 rupees (about $15) I and 200 others are zoomed to Havelock. Arriving I am jaw smacked. A very unfamiliar calmness hovers over the bay, rickshaw drivers are not clamoring over you (although available) to take you to your very own piece of paradise lost.

The first place I visit recommended by the tourist board is only 600 rupees a night, has people sitting in a circle enjoying someone strumming on a guitar. The room I am shown to is on two levels but has the mattress on the floor and no hot water... Well that would just NOT do! Where the hell was I! Not being a fan of camping I was wondering what I had got myself into. Upon gathering a list of three more places to visit, my rickshaw driver bravely suggested we visit a place he knew first. Off we went.

As we pulled up to the Eco villa resort I jumped out and the reception said they had an opening ...one room for 2000 rupees a night the other would be 900rupees. Asking to see both they started with the best ...of course.

We walked up and were greeted by this quaint grass hut cottage open to the elements with no glass in the huge window opening. But a mosquito net around the bed solved that dilemma. On the main floor I had a small living room a fridge and low and behold...a small spiral staircase up the second level.

            Living Room(above)  Spiral stairs (below)

Stomping up to the second floor I was gifted with a magnificent ocean view that was only 50yards from the cottage. It felt as if you reached out your arm you would touch the crystal waters of the Andaman Sea. One look at that view along with a warm wind stroking my face as my eyes feasted on what they saw and I knew it would have to be this room. Hec the way I looked at it, this was camping in style!

After my awful experience in Goa at the Indian kitchen hotel, I was very quick to rush to the front desk and negotiate the rate on paper. The owner just smiled and gave me a receipt stating the rate and explained I did not need to pay until departure.

                                                     Bedroom

Walking back to my cabin, there I was staring at the sea exhibiting shamelessly every shade of blue and teal you could ever imagine. As the silky white sand met the sea it seemed to perform gentle dance together. It was all quite overwhelming. Here I was at a paradise that oozed with beauty and I wished to share it with someone I knew. My family, friends, x's all raced through my head triggering a faint sense of guilt. As I was experiencing such wonderment with no one but myself to share it with, I was brought to tears.

                                           Room with a view

                               Still cant believe that view!

The next day I woke up once again to sounds of birds chirping in competition with the ocean waves. For my adventure today I had decided to rent a moped and ride to a beach on the other side of the 20minute island. Note to self...DON'T rent any mopeds! You see the only sad thing about this island to me, really the only evidence that you are so close to the mayhem of the Indian mainland is the existence of the crazy rickshaw and taxi drivers who race about this tiny island as if they are about to miss some life changing appointment. It is all quite ironic when you consider that these same islanders enjoy siesta from 1 till 4 most every day. Having never ridden any motorized two wheeler, I twisted on the accelerator and as I zigzagged un-controllably forward the hotel staff chased after me all worried for my life... But as I whizzed off gaining some stability, everyone including me breathed a sigh of relief. I thought to myself...as long as there is no traffic and I can travel in a straight line, I’d be fine. Needless to say neither of those magnificent wishes came to fruition and by the time I reached the beach I was traveling to, my back and shoulders felt like they were in some sort of tightening brace that had been invented in the middle ages, you could say I was a little tense.

Walking up to the beach I once again marveled at what I saw an unspoiled beach that on one side played with the crystal blue crashing waves and on the other shared borders with a tall, thick and dense forest lending shade and shelter to all those weary pirates who may have discovered the island some years ago.

Having met two travelers from my hotel one from Finland and the other an Israeli, we met up on the beach and sat together swapping our stories while taking in a magnificent sunset full of red, orange, grey and purples. My ride back was not as treacherous as I was able to follow my newfound friends and that seemed to take the edge off a bit.

 

                               God I love my camera!

Day 3, I awoke in such bliss again and while doing my morning yoga I tried not to focus on the grief that I would only be here another two days. Eating my breakfast while taking in the calm moist breeze I pondered what my day held in store... a walk I decided would be the medicine of the day. I read a chapter or two of my positive manifestation book "ask and it is given” and really felt I was getting things that it spoke of. I was feeling charged and inspired. A brief dip in the warm sea allowed me to contemplate all the great things I would create. Now consider this, as I came out of the ocean or gods bathtub as I have aptly renamed it, I stubbed my toe on a rock not once, but twice and really hard. It was hard enough that the pain shrilled up my leg sending me a message thy perhaps my walk should be taken off my agenda. I of course ignored this first message and set off on my jaunt. The next strange thing that happened as I adventured up the sandy and coral filled pathway is that a sweet female dog came up to me in search of affection. After catering to her gentle demands I walked on but she followed whining as if to try and talk to me, to tell me something at least this is what crossed my mind. I wonder what she could be trying to say.

Please don't go!

Moving forward she stayed behind and the next stretch I came to was quite barren, no cottages or civilization only one dog barking incessantly as if to tell me not to walk on his grounds. My ego kicked in and I was not fazed. Some five minutes passed and I found myself approaching a great stretch of beach that seemed to be free of any coral or rocks. As I approached there was a pack of four dogs coming from the brush about fifty meters ahead of me. One of them turned and began to bark quite aggressively. I sent out a quiet positive energy and said out loud in a calm voice that it was all right. Within seconds another dog turned and began barking while growling, it was not a normal bark. Fear had begun to charge through my body from my toes to my fingertips… they sensed it. They began their charge toward me and not knowing what to do I tried to remain relatively balanced shouting “calm down!” at the dogs as they approached me with great speed. Seconds passed and two of the dogs charged behind me as the other two growled at me from my front. As I tried to turn to see at my back, I felt a strong and painful sensation grip the back of my calf. One of the dogs piercing teeth punctured through one side of my calf while his front teeth cut through the other. As anger, fear and panic raged through me I took my backpack off and swung violently while shouting with a terror that could be heard a mile away. I was ready to defend I was ready to fight. The dogs knew and within seconds they all charged away. In shock and dismay I realized what had just happened and started hobbling back toward my cottage, as I glanced at my two wounds which were now starting to bleed out I was heartbroken as my dreams of a walk in paradise had turned into a race to get to the doctor. What if there was rabies. What now!

                                           OUCH!

Waiting to see the nurse I struggled not to beat myself up for not taking head of the many warnings I had received from universe, I decided to keep myself in positive thought. The nurses saw my wound and suggested two stitches, the thought of enduring more pain sickened me, so I declined their advice. The nurses cleaned the wound and bandaged it; they gave me a few painkillers as by now my leg was throbbing with a vivid pain. A tetanus shot, some antibiotics, a lecture not to go in the sea and I was sent on my way and asked to return in the morning to see the doctor who would be in at 9.30am. I had an early night falling asleep to the memory of the horrific growl of the dogs.

      Don't worry thats just my little buddy at the hotel

On day 4, I awoke to the sound of a horrid little Indian bratlett whining incessantly for who knows what... Determined not to let anything faze me, I awoke with a smile (the painkillers helped with that) and headed off to the doctors. I decided I would manifest only good today!

Yippee! A short visit to the doctor confirmed there was no rabies on the island. I only needed to continue my antibiotics for three days,leave my wound exposed and all would be fine. Going in the sea wasfine it was just recommended I use a waterproof covering/band aid while I was in there. Later that day yet another piece of technology of mine gave up on me. My waterproof camera had decided it was no longer impervious to water and poof there went all my pictures and my camera. No matter, it’s just a camera. The agenda for the rest of the day, hmm let's see, maybe I need to polish up on that positive manifestation stuff.

As I packed for my early departure, I reflected on my stay. Havelock was definitely a place to visit paradise on a budget… cheap food, cheap beer and relatively cheap accommodation, what more could one want right? How about the smell of a warm croissant delivered to your bed side, the comfort of your head sinking into an overstuffed German down pillow. The soft scent of fresh flowers cut and prepared as part of your welcome gift. These were the things I preferred.

Leaving India, I pondered the days when the Maharajas ruled, the days where Shah Jahan had built the Taj Mahal with such astute beauty and perfection. An India where kings would settle for nothing but intricate and beautiful visual feasts and only the best scents were wafting through the palace air. Where had all this old magic drifted? Where had this magnificence been lost? The closest thing I could imagine was the aura found in all the five star hotels I had visited, that was what I yearned for, that is what I deserved and that is what I would then manifest. I had decided that on my next visit, I would see India from a Maharajas perspective. It was a great way to end my bittersweet Indian adventure.