Amritsar - The Golden Sikh Temple & Border Closing Ceremony in Punjab, India

After leaving Pushkar I caught the overnight train further north to the holy city of Amritsar in Punjab - 30kms from the Pakistan border. Since my first trip to India and my obsession with Bhangra dance I have obsessed over coming back and discovering the state of India's most energetic and uplifting dance style. So I found myself a little distracted by their religion as Sihks.

If you ask alot of the Indian's living in Australia you will learn that many of those studying are from the state Punjab and whilst the younger one's sometimes choose to try and blend in the West, they are Sikhs and wear turbans to cover their extremely long hair.

Since India is the land of religions and devotion and after watching one of my favourite Sharuk Khan films "Rab Bana Di Jodi" and seeing the Golden Temple on their for the first time in one scene of the most romantic songs which so happens to be my favourite - I knew I had to go and see it's beauty with my own eyes. My gut instincts told me that I was going to find this place as special as the Taj Mahal, but I didn't want to jinx myself.

Arriving at the train station it was just like any other noisy, congested and polluted Indian city. My rickshaw driver zoomed me across town as I tried to spot the difference of the Punjab state vs the rest of India - obviously that was turbans and beards, but the real difference lay in the Golden Temple and the Sikhs. My hotel (Hotel Indus) was right opposite the temple and I paid a little extra to have a temple view room - which meant I looked right into the compound and it was gorgeous.

I have to admit I lost the plot a little when I got to the room as the accomodation was all a little flash compared to what I have been living in for the last two months here in India. Finally I had a toilet that flushes, AC, a mirror, clean bathroom, hot water, telephone, mini bar (granted it was empty), TV AND they even gave me shampoo, toilet paper and soap!

I arrived about 1pm - I had read that you can get a share taxi from the front of the temple t go out and see the border closing ceremony between Pakistan and India - 30km away. So I had the choice to get a private driver for 600 rupees or share for 75 rupees - I decided the latter which proved to be worth the effort and stepping out of my comfort zone. So there was no official box from which to purchase a ticket in the shared cars, just a bunch of random dodgy looking guys harassing visitors if the want to go out to the border. I asked the temple guard who pointed me their direction so I spoke to a young boy who spoke good english and who told me I pay 25 rupees now and 50 later. I was to come back at 3pm and there would be up to 8 people in my car. He had a simple notepad on which he scribbled down a mobile number and the remaining balance due. I took my paper and walked off in a daze thinking to myself I should probably be a little more careful since he told me that it's an hour drive to travel 30km and that I wouldn't be back until 8.30pm and being only 60km from Lahore after the bomb attack a week ago I was a little nervous.

So at the shoe check-in counter at the temple I asked this old Sikh if they were safe to go with, his English was none exstant but he sweetly hunted down an English speaking visitor to find out what I wanted. Once the guy from Delhi explained to him, he took great pride in making it his mission to go and meet these men and see if his "contacts" knew if they were trust worthy. After a few death stares from the driver who didn't seem to understand what this crazy foreign woman was concerned about, the old man said "Teak" (OK) "you come 3pm Teak".

So I came back just before 3pm and to my releif there were about 50 Indian families and couples all there to do the same thing, so I felt alot safer already. We were divided into groups and piled into mini vans, I luckily had one family of 3 and a young Indian couple from Delhi who loved the chance to practise their English and be my tour guides on what was done and why.

The border closing ceremony was every bit the circus act that I had been told but it just was not a smart move that after a day sitting around in Pushkar waiting for my over night train to Amritsar to do - I was low on energy and after our driver had death in his eyes and nearly rolled our van doing 100+km on a construction road and sitting in the sun for 3 hours I was fast whithering away. So at the border we are told no-one is allowed to carry any bags - you can carry your valuables in your hand which as a foreigner screwed me because I had no purse to put my cash in, plus my i pod, camera and phone. Then there was a men's and women's queue and for a 2nd time in India being a woman finally had it's benefits as the queue was a heap shorter. The military is of course absolutely in force out there to the point where mobile phone next works are shut down so no-one can detonate bombs. Women were taken aside by female soldiers and I was a little too frisked by a female soldier who took great pride in groping my breasts! I felt very violated and the young Indian girl I was with thought it was hysterical the enthusiasm the female soldier had for me.

Again women were then ushered off to a female grandstand and men opposite - this suited me fine but I felt sorry for all the couples who were split up. So we sat there in the sun for the next 2.5 hours waiting for the ceremony to officially start. In the meantime they pulled out these huge Indian flags and children were lined up in two's to have a turn running 100m to the border gates waving the flag with great pride and to the loud cheers and clapping of the crowd. Then the old ladies many in saari decided they too wanted to re-live their childhood and go for a run - this attracted even louder applause from the crowd. Then the housewives started encouraging each other to go up and soon the majority of the female stand had gone for a jog in training for the upcoming Commonwealth games as flag bearers I guess :)

Next came the ridiculously loud and distorted Indian top 40 tunes that all refer to Indian pride - of course Jai Ho from Slum Dog Millionaire sent them nuts and in the school crowd beside me 4 boys of about 10 who had clearly learnt a routine stood up and decided to perform this on their seats. To say that I was grinning like a chesher cat was an understatement - if any of them were my sons I would have been a glowing mum. They rocked! The pelvic thrusts and Michael Jackson move's just seemed be the biggest crowd pleasers but their passion to see that they executed every move to the fullest I couldn't stop cheering them on.

So are you remembering that this is a border closing ceremony?? Yes I know its a little odd. I got to the point after so much dancing on the street by the crowd that I was about to get up and volunteer to close the gate for them so we could get out of the heat and I wouldnt be forced to whack the Indian guy that had sneaked into our area waving his Indian flag in my face!

Patience I know - there's only so much you can give in India especially when you are tired and it's hot. Finally the MC - yes a MC started to fire up the Indian crowd chanting "Hindustan!" and the crowd responding with throat bursting proudness. I looked across at the Pakistan border grand stands to see what was going on over there - only around 100 women veiled up on one side and 100 men on the other in their white kaftan's. Their MC sounded more like a Mullah preparing them for war then the humour of the Indian one. The Indian guys were starting to fire up when they heard the passion in the Pakistani men's voices and I could only imagine the obscenities they were shouting at them.

All of a sudden it was like a yodelling competition between the Indian and Pakistani soldiers. The MC for each country would hold the mic up to a soldier and generally at the same time the idea was for them to chant a note and see who could hold it the longest. The first two times India one and you'd think they had just cleaned up the gold medals at the Olympics. Then Pakistan started to win, so I noticed the MC would delay the Indian's start to hide this fact from the crowd. After around 20min of this painful yodelling competition the guards one at a time did this crazy power walk and high air kick that made it look like they were auditioning for Moulin Rouge. I was delirious by this point so started commentating to myself to pass the time.

With each kick and sometimes this weird shoulder wiggle the crown would loose their minds with excitement - I must admit though team Pakistan looked like true warriors in their black and red uniforms almost resembling arab ninjas. After more than three hours they took about 10 min to pull the flags down and pretty much slam the gates on each other's face and it was over.

I really wanted a photo with the soldiers with their huge red material fans on their hats, but they were all a little grumpy and had no patience for even the tourists. On the way out with my friends from the car I thought I noticed something over by the barbed wire fence between Pakistan and India but I wasn't sure. The guy from Delhi if I noticed what was happening and I laughed and told him that I thought it was just my imagination - clearly not... The Indians were pissing through the fence onto Pakistan! The military conveniently took their time stopping them doing it, but I was told this happens everyday - Incredible India!

So according to my Lonely Planet they Sikh's offer free "Lengar" at the temple in a massive dining hall for all visitors irrespective of race, religion or caste - this is truely special in India. So after my little border closing ceremony I was famished and my friends from Delhi suggested that I accompany them to the Lengar Hall so I could learn how it works and be set for the next couple of days. Off we went into the temple and the process was something like this.....

1. check in bags and keep valuables on us again and keep metal token

2. check in shoes at the counter next door and keep metal token

3. put on head scarf to enter the temple grounds

4. walk over to the lengar food hall entry wash hands and feet at communal taps

5. take a metal plate from first person, spoon from next and bowl from last

6. follow the crowds into the hall and stack up again each other on long canvas runners on the marble floor

7.place dish and bowl on floor in front of you and patiently wait 2 min as the first guy with dahl (yellow lentil curry) comes along with his metal bucket and ladle and pours into the first holder in your plate.

8. put up both hands as though making a cup for water and the chappati guy will give you two

9. another vegetable curry

10. the water guy comes along and fills up your bowl with his big tea pot

11. the dessert guy comes along with another metal bucket and ladle and scoops a delicious rice curd into your dish

12. enjoy wearing have the food as you eat with your bread and hands (spoon is for dessert)

13. have as many refills as you like whilst the locals freak out that this foreign girl can eat so much! :)

14. If you dont finish the same time as your row be prepared for the man sitting on a ride on street cleaner that squirts water on the floor in front of you and has a huge squeegy at the back to clean the filthy curried floor. (see you could have a army of kids if you owned this machine!)

15. follow the crowds out the door and give your spoon to the spoon guys and plate/bowl to the others.

16. return to communal taps to wash hands and face as there are no such things as serviettes

It was so organisied and smooth running that I am starting to beleive the Sikhs should be running India! Not only for this reason but they are such compassionate people. Everyone who works there is a volunteer I was told - you give up a day like community service to serve the temple visitors - so the shoe guy, bags, water, food, cooks, cleaners, guards and dishwashers are all volunteering. People from the community offer to help peel onions, cut potatoes - it's just amazing to see such a giving group of people.

Furthermore I picked up a publication and it tells that they run schools, mental institutions, hospitals, accommodation, drug dispensaries - so much for those down on their luck. Plus all the food that apparently 50-60,000 people flock to receive for free everyday, the free accommodation in two huge blocks next door to the temple where pilgrims can stay for free for up to two days and the huge courtyard where the homeless (many of them rickshaw drivers) are given mats and blankets, showers and a safe place to sleep each night. It's mind blowing how much this must cost to run each day. I asked how is it afforded and they said that the Sikh pilgrims who visit each day leave donations as well most of those in the state of Punjab donate a % of their salary to the temple and its projects. I was so touched and impressed that I left a great donation and still wanted to give them more.

After eating I went for a walk around the temple compound and the golden temple actually is surrounded by holy water that the pilgrims drink and dip themselves in and their are huge Koi fish in there that the kids just love. In th middle of this square marbled grounds is the beautiful golden temple itself - covered in 750KG of gold, it truly is amazing! Throughout the compound you can hear the chants and tabla music of the holy Sikh leaders that are sitting within the golden temple. Pilgrims line up to enter and offer "prasad" or offering to them and see the holy book that is brought into the temple during the day and out into another building in the evening.

I learnt that the Sikhs are bound by the 5 Ks:

1. Kes (uncut hair)

2. Karingha (small wooden comb)

3. Kara (iron bracelet)

4. Kirpan (sword to be worn at all times - and everyone had one so I got one too!)

5. Kaccha (like special underwear that I saw them wear when they stripped down to dip)

For me the Golden Temple has been the highlight alongside the Taj Mahal for this trip to India, but more in a soul cleansing way. The hypnotic sounds of the men chanting and sitting with the locals on the marble walk ways facing the temple - I must have sat listening and thinking for on average 4 hours a day it was very special for me. It was so very calming and right up there with my Varanasi morning Pujas ritual on the Ganges.

Next blog.... Rishikesh yoga capital of the world.....

Pushkar:India - March 2010

My grand arrival into Pushkar on the back of a fruit/luggage cart sets the scene - my hotel comes in sight, a huge old fortress wooden door ready for war - Inn Seventh Heaven is the hotels nams. Greeted with the "No Commission" sign on the door - is this the only place in India not paying commission :)



Enterting through the doors my worries from the adventures actually getting here are long left behind. The first sight you are greeted with is a beautiful courtyard - white marble/granite with a Morroccon style waterfountain that has been thoughtfully decorated with Fuscia coloured rose petals. The receptionist Mavi greets me with what I will soon learn is his energetic self and great sense of humour. I'm promised he will return my passport later "maybe" thankfully I can tell he's joking. So a brave man lifts my backpack onto his shoulder and I am told to follow him to my room. The hotel is full for the length of most of my stay but I am offered a room in the adjoining building called Konica House. I was a little anxious at the time of booking as I really did want to stay in Seventh Heaven but I thought I would give it a couple of nights and see how I feel.



After climbing a maze of stairs up and down we arrive to my room - double bed, fan, adjoining private bathroom with a shower (hot water!!!) and my own private balcony overlooking the sidelane below - complete with a beautiful bougavillea, succulent plants and burnt orange chiffon curtains on the balcony for some privacy. I immediately liked the feel of my room - maybe it was living in that dungeon in Jaipur for a month that made me appreciate such a simple room but it was cosy and I decided mine for the next 15 nights at 450 rupee a night - bargain!



I went for a stroll to the hotel's rooftop restaurant and was greeted by guys who ended up feeling like my Indian brothers during my stay. Each of them too pranksters - offering me my muslei on the first morning with a ketchup bottle saying "here is some ketchup for your museli" - I fell for it as everyone in India appears to be ketchup mad thanks to the Brits. I politely declined and Sam insists that I try this Indian favourite - I hand him the bottle and politely decline again - he laughs and says its honey. This sense of humour amongst the staff is what makes this hotel a great place to stay. They look after you like family and their joking puts you into relax mode as you remember not everything in India is meant to be full throttle.



As I was saying the rooftop restaurant had brilliant food and reasonable prices and they even had salads which all the greens they wash in purified water so the tourists dont need to worry about Pushkar belly. This was my first salad since leaving Australia and it rocked - I have a new recipe for salads :) I even braved the Lassi's here as I figured they would be putting their yoghurt in the fridge - delicious again.



There were two resident dogs at the hotel - one who was similar to a bear and who got shaved just before I left - poor thing got the worst haircut in history. The hotel is an old haveli residence and has aroudn 3-4 floors with typical mughal style arch-ways and my all time favourite that I love and am demanding I own in this lifetime - a Indiand chair swing. Don't think of those tacky one's from your local hardware store that nan or pop owned, we are talking hand-carved wood with red velour cushioning and gold chains securing this to the ceiling. One night after dinner I was so snug reading on the swing that I feel asleep and when I woke up and grabbed my things to go to my room I left behind my Lonely Planet for India!! Someone in the hotel scored it and the next day I was eyeing anyone carrying the same edition as mine - which was everyone - dammit. So just like there is a market for stolen shoes from temples here in India, I soon discovered there is a market for 2nd hand Lonely Planets - this time I have stuck on a Shiva and Pavarti god sticker on the front and written a friendly karma reminder notice in the front cover for it's safe return if found.



I had been to Pushkar around 5 years earlier for a couple of days as part of my tour so I already had my bearings of what is where - which isn't really hard when this is a main road that has the bazaar. But last time I didnt get to explore and the lake which this town is famous for actually had water - this time it is empty as there apparently has been no rain since I left. This has completely changed the vibe of the town and hundreds of Hindu pilgrims flock here throughout the year as it has not only the Holy Lake for their early morning and evening poojas, but also India's only Bhrama temple.



One thing I discovered this time round is that Pushkar is not only a haven for foreign tourists (Israelis in particular), but Hindus from across India too. Every morning just as the sun was rising I would be woken by the pilgrim old women who were walking to the makeshift pools for their morning rituals and prayers at one of the many temples. They would be signing, talking loudly - some mornings there was even full brass bands playing. I would silently curse for my sleep deprivation than once the noisy group disappeared within a matter of minutes I was back asleep.



Everyday between 10-11am in Pushkar there is no electricity. Some tourists complain - and I certainlty wouldn't be overly happy in the middle of summer if I paid for an AC room, however the option to counter this is to have a huge noisy generator under some unlucky guests window splattering smoke and being offensively noisy just to comfort a few grumpy guests. I like that the hotel has chosen not to have this and instead puts up with the power outage. In summer apparently the power is out more than 1 hour a day - note to readers considering Pushkar don't come hear between March and Sept - tooooooo hot. Summer is just starting here but it was already getting unbearable and for a town with an empty lake and huge pipe bringing in water from a nearby dam, I wonder the environmental impact of the tourists and pilgrims in this city - but this is India they are no where at that point to care yet.



The bazaar in Pushkar is brilliant - so many hippy clothes catering to foreign tastes. If you like the Byron Bay markets in Australia then you would love Pushkar - dread-locked hippies with their barefoot children and Israeli's as far as the eye can see. As I have said to a few people I keep eaves dropping on Israeli conversations as their accent reminds me of Adam Sandler's movie "Don't mess with Zohan". It took me about a day to ask some Israelis if the Mokantakan restaurant chain they show in the movie is real and sadly no :(



I've decide that on my next trip to India I will instead of bringing clothes just come with an empty bag to Pushkar and fill up on suitable cotton clothes for the rest of my trip - too easy and for $50 you can be set! I have to say the restraint I showed to not go clothes shopping is applaudable - so I rewarded myself with jewellry shopping instead :) When travelling I seem to have 3 things thta I now like to buy from the different countries - textiles, paintings and unique jewellry pieces. In the case of Pushkar they offer a huge variety of stering silver pieces - more tribal influences and those that you find in your local Tree of Life / crystal boho shops. I really wanted a nice silver bangle but failed in finding one that I liked and would wear when I'm back in reality. So I befriended a store owner in the back alleys near my dance teachers home out of the bazaar to buy a heap of antique gypsy pieces for ridiculously cheap compared to the bazaar - I almost felt guilty that they were so cheap so decided I should buy plenty to at least help this poor guy with some business :) I bought a pair of traditional Rajisthani ankles - not super noisy but they are sterling silver and have little balls hanging with the evil eye, I bought a pair of beautiul Rajisthani toe rings and one toe ring set of 3 rings joined by chains that I have seen many of the gypsies wearing. I also bought a heap of individual necklace pieces representative and worn by the different castes. All up I think I spent $60 and walked away with wayyyy too much but something special to me.

Pushkar also has the famous old Rangi Temple that one American lady Colleena Shakti leases a room from and teaches dance classes in Odissi, Tribal and Khabelia Gypsy style dance. I had been admiring her website for months and decided to attend classes there. I enjoyed the gypsy classes which gave you a rare chance to dance with the local gypsy women and learn some of their beautiful moves that influences the Romany gypsies and hand movements that you can today see a part of Flamenco (you need to watch the movie Latcho Drum). I have one little incident to show true gypsy entrepenuership in action. My teacher at the end of my class was sitting with her sister, friend and 1 year old baby and asked if I would like to join them for a Chai, I agreed and off we went to the bazaar to one of her local friends stores. One the way she asked another store for their business card and over chai she gave this to me with her name and said if I would like to post her any clothes or anything from my country I could send them to this stores address with her name on the front. Clever I thought and obviously something that other dancers have done to date. Then a few more people joined us for chai and one gypsy yelled across at me - "madam ek chai" one chai - that's when the penny dropped - I'm paying for everyone's chai. Cultural difference #1 dont assume that when you are invitied to chai that everyone will pay their way, these are gypsies! So I agreed and learnt my lesson quick smart that they are a cheeky and crafty crew :)



Another favourite in Pushkar is the local falafel hawker stand - there are two next to each other, go to the one one your right when you are facing them. After my first visit to them everyday after, twice a day, they greet me with "Namaste madam how are you?" with the hugest smiles. For 50 rupee I had the best falafel roll I have eaten in my life along with pretty damn good hummous and labne (like Tzatiki) obviously this is a recipe thanks to some brilliant visiting Israeli. I asked one Israeli what the go is with so many of them in Pushkar - I think it looked like 80% were from Israel, to the point where signs are everywhere written in Hebrew and shopkeepers and quiet often fluent in the language too! I was told that back home if you say you are going to India, as an Israeli everyone knows to visit Manali, Pushkar and Goa as they have huge communities of Israeli tourists. I guess it's like Aussies in Phuket and Bali really.



One evening - well most - there was a brass band playing tunes for yet another religious ceremony. One particular night walking back to the hotel they were shutting the roads down and we soon discovered a Vishnu procession was to take place. Waiting patiently roadside in the bazaar the strangest scene unfolded infront of me. Aside from the ear-drum bursting terrible keyboard distortion they were calling music, these old old men were pushing HUGE generators on wheels and attached walking almost like a prisoner line ahead were what looked like the local prisoners of Pushkar carring lights on their head attached to the next guy by a electrical cord - a chain of these around 1 km long. My friend and I agreed these guys looked super scary and later learnt that most of them are street people who would have been paid 100 rupee for the night to carry these lights on there head and swallow the terrible smoke from the generators. One old guy saw me taking photos and started dancing with the light on his head - neadless to say I have captured his toothless self dancing with the light on his head all on video.



Being one to not turn down an opportunity to try something new and punish my stomach (ie. the taranchula in Cambodia) I have read about "Pan" in numerous books and decided that it was time I gave this beetle-nut and green tabacco leaf combo a try (this too will go on youtube) as I write this now I am gagging remembering the foul taste. So they have these little Pan stalls along the streets throughout India and for around 10 rupee you get a green leaf, some brown sauce (could be liquid tobacco), aniseed, cardamon, bettlenut and some other terrible ingrediants. You put it in the side of your mouth and chew - I had a bit of an audience wondering what this crazy foreign woman was doing. I decided to bite a bit and chew - f__ terrible! Just think of your toilet cleaner and that's about it. Needless to say I politely spat it into the gutter and kept gargling water to get rid of the taste. Why do I do these things to myself??



Another attraction for many of the tourists and some won't admit, but Pushkar has a serious drug problem - pot town! You often walk through clouds of the stuff and can see tourists with lovely red eyes. One restaurant we were eating at one afternoon decided that since no-one was around that they made us a special pot lassi as a "gift" Amsterdam yes - India no so I politely declined while I watched our pizza guy smoke a joint whilst making my magarihita. The thing that bothers me most with this situation in Pushkar is that it is affecting the locals. Young kids are being influenced by Westerners to smoke pot and drink beer in a Holy City that dosen't permit these. Seedy characters in an abundance surface at night once the bazaar has closed offering you pot and even opium on one night stroll. I'm told by locals that even some of the gypsies are selling (of course) and prostitution is on the increase amongst the young girls and some filthy tourists.

This was the downside to spending more than a few nights in Pushkar, the image of this pretty little town was ruined for me when I got to see what was really going on and being a small town you start to get to know everyone and who does what.



But I refuse to let it ruin Pushkar completely - its a beautiful little town and aside from this one seedy aspect I think it's a great break from the madness of the big Indian cities. I loved that every day on my way to dancing the locals would call from their shopfronts with "Namaste" "Nice salwar kameez madam" "I like this colour" some of the crazy things they say to get you to look at their shopwares. And the chai that is instantly offered when you browse their store - but just know that you really should buy something if you plan to sit chat, have chai and take up so much of their time. I saw too many tourists do it for the chai and the chat with a local experience and over time this is only going to piss them off.



Some days it was too hot and I lazed on the hotel roof or on my balcony shared with my resident gecko so fat from mosquitoes that he was the size of a baby blue tongue lizard! But that makes sense why I never gotten bitten in my room with no net or lotion on.



One little old man that has made an impression and I hope to visit next time was located on the corner next to the hotel. He sells the usual water, juice and toilet paper, but also does paintings for people. There are many of these in the main bazaar but because this guy is out of the way he is more price competitive and nicer to tourists. On the day I arrived he was doing the most beautiful Shiva and Pavarti painting and everytime I walked past I would compliment him on how good it was coming along. We had this little exchange everyday with each new painting. Then one day he said he wanted to show me something and to follow him. Normally I wouldn't walk into a building with some random but I could tell he was fine and that he had something to share. Upstairs in his small flat that he shares with his wife and son is this huge canvas stretched approx 5-6 metres wide. Some German restaurant owner has this picture of police on one side of a bridge and party goers on the otherside. They were just starting and had one day to complete this for him - painted by 3 men in total. It was amazing so over the next day he kept calling me back to check out it's progress. He loved his work and it was very special to see this being handed down to his son. I promised that next time in Pushkar I would come prepared and have some pictures for him to paint.



When my time drew to a close in Pushkar I was ready and happy to move on, it had been a little too long and I'm learning that I like to stay a few days and then move one. Plus after being headbutted in the gut by a cow (it was an accident on both our parts) and I have dodged enough cow crap for a life time - they say Paris is bad with dog poo - visit Pushkar and think of the poor lady who is sweeping that into her dustpan every morning.



Next stop Amritsar....

Bus ride Jaipur to Pushkar - March 2010

Getting from Jaipur to Pushkar should have been a lot easier but this is India and you sign up for adventure and pushing the boundaries when you agree to come here. To buy intercity bus tickets in India you can get a rickshaw down to the bus station a couple of days before and you are sorted. Being the internet lover that I am, I decided there must be an easier online way of booking tickets (sometimes bargaining with the rickshaw driver then trying to work out where and how to buy your bus tickets and who to trust is all too much).

So I found one of the few online booking sites here in India that accepts international credit cards - makemytrip.com. The sight is easy to navigate around and even shows you a floor plan of the bus to let you choose which seats you want - wow! I paid my 60 rupee (under $2 for a 3 hr bus ride) for a sleeper on a non-AC bus. Non-AC seems to scare most tourists that I have met here that swear by Deluxe buses only - they charge a special "tourist price" and lump you on a bus with other foreigners so all the touts are waiting when you reach the other end. My non-AC "Indian" bus has huge what I call suicide windows, that as the bus pulls up at a stop (not sign posted of course just a random petrol station) the locals are there selling Pani (water) and pass them up through these windows so as to not slow the bus down with passengers getting off.

My sleeper was a perfect idea, it meant I could take on my painful huge backpack and have it on the end of the sleeper (a single bed) and not have to stress if anyone is in the hold of the bus rifing through my things. So my sleeper was airy with the huge windows and a curtain and sliding door that locks me out from the rest of the bus - I didn't feel the need to shut the door since I had the curtain, I invited trouble didn't I. So about 20 minutes into the trip, I'm dosing off to sleep with my Bollywood tunes on my ipod and I feel someone shove my foot out of the way and then she sits her butt on one of them anyone. I could only assume that she said she needs to sit there until they sort out her seating problem as I could see her husband arguing (or is that just talking in India?) with the conductor. So as I annoyed as I am at her tone with me and her lack of a polite excuse me expression, I decide to let her sit there for a few minutes until things get sorted.

So after about 10min she starts trying to get comfortable and pushing her way back on the seat - and further still onto my feet. I realise sh probably isn't getting off anytime soon so decide my feet will suffer to ensure that she is as uncomfortable as I am in the hope she gives up and finds her seat. I'm trying not to "sweat the small stuff" but for the next hour I can feel myself psyching up to tell her to move or pay half my ticket if she wants the seat - yes little miss principle strikes again. Just as I've worked out what I'm going to say she leaps off and with her husband and they are leaving the bus. Problem solved.

Arriving into Ajmer - which Lonely Planet says is a 13km bus ride away from the main bus station and only 10 rupees. Sounded easy enough right? What they fail to tell you is that not all buses drop you off at the "main bus station" so in my case I was dropped off randomly and am trying to haul my 27kg+ back pack off the bus - struggling down the stairs with about 20 men all screaming for my business so because no-one was either helping more nor moving out of my way, I shoved my backpack towards them - they moved :)

You know sometimes when you are trying to think and people keep talking to you and they won't stop and you have to tell them to be quiet so you can think? Well at that moment whilst I was trying to get my bearings and work out where the bus to Pushkar left that's what I needed - them to be quiet so I could look and think - yeah right! So I walked off like I knew where I was going and like my bag was only 1kg - it was all dirt so I realised I was going to have to use it as a backpack - again easier said than done. They are all crowding around me shouting, I'm saying "no thank you" and squatting with my day pack on the front as I try to gracefull put this damn curse of a backpack on without stepping on my salwar kameez top as I get up AND trying to find the strength in my thighs to get up without tipping backwards and giving these men the satisfaction that this woman is going to need our help. I did it but I felt like I nearly burst an artery in my brain.

There was a dread-locked Canadian with his backpack and guitar also looking for the bus to Pushkar so we agreed to work it out together and I was secretly thinking I have someone who can help with my bag if needed - cheeky cheeky. So everyone is telling us that there is no bus to Ajmer, instead to go with them somewhere?? I ignored them and walked off determined to find a rickshaw that would drive me to obviously another bus stand wherever on earth that was. I kept getting told 200 rupees and I would laugh and walk off - 10 rupees is what Lonely Planet said for the bus 13km away! Finally one agreed to 10 rupees each and we then realised we weren't moving until they filled this rickshaw up with locals - around 8 of us inside and 2 hanging out. The driver kept yelling at me to hold my backpack so he could fit more people - thinking of comforts sake I conveniently didn't understand what he was talking about, 8 people were more than enough. Eventually we pull up in a busy area and the driver points to a small bus and says "Pushkar" as I'm stepping off the bus a guy grabs my backpack and says "you want to go to Pushkar" - clutching my bag strap I ask him how much and which bus as I could see they were all fighting for my business - 20 rupee later and I got him to agree to carry my bag to the bus and across the road we went. The bus was a third of the council/government buses around the world so technically that should comfortably seat 20 people? Ha Ha I stopped counting at 77! They found this spot in the rear extirior of the bus and managed to squeeze my bag in there and it took 3 men to push the door closed on my bag :) and out of no where he pulls out this key the size of an A4 page saying "no worries mandam bag is safe".

It took about 30 min to go the 13km distance through the mountains to Pushkar from Ajmer. i chuckled because at one point through the sharp mountain bends I felt like we were in the Afghan mountains (yes another dream). I knew we were close when I saw my favourite (not) huge Pushkar monkies running a muck on the towns outskirts.

We pulled into a huge dirt carpark - the bus station and piled out the bus. I had read that you can get a guy with a kind of fruit cart to push your bags to your hotel - he found me and offered to push me and my bag for 20 rupees. The fruit seller ladies had a bit of a chuckle looking at this silly foreign woman sitting ontop of this cart with my bag. The guy seriously had chicken legs and sticks for arms, I have no idea how he found the strength to push me the 1km or so to my hotel. We arrived at a huge fortress gate of my hotel in Pushkar.

Next blog... Pushkar