Home Sweet Home

22 hours of air-time, and who knows how long total with layovers, and I’ve made it to my final destination-and in one piece ta boot! My flight from good ol’ Chi-town was delayed… I originally only had an hour and ten minute layover at Heathrow, which I was concerned about to begin with, (I remembered how enormous that airport is and how many hoops you have to jump through to check in/go through security/etc). When we finally landed, we were 30 minutes late. After being stuck in the security line for 15 minutes I finally spotted a TSA worker (or whatever they’re called in the UK), flagged her down, and was rushed to the front of the line. Of course, by the time I made it out of security it was too late…my gate was closed.

After a long string of internal cursing, I went to American Airlines to figure out what to do…positive that I was totally screwed. Thankfully, they re-booked me through Doha, Qatar…which actually only delayed my trip 15 minutes and took out my long layover in Delhi. (“Is that okay ma’am? It’s the Middle East-you know, like Iraq.”) Don’t ask me what the Middle East is like…I was there for approximately a blink of an eye-and at night. However, the city looked pretty all lit up, and I couldn’t help but feel a small connection to Carrie Bradshaw (as Abu Dhabi was within spittin’ distance).

Occurrences/Observations of the Flights:

1. Traveling with twin toddler boys looks like hell. But parents of said twin boys looked like a mix between Mother Theresa and warriors.

2. Sat next to the most awkward, fat, teenage little redhead on my way to London. I’m thrilled I’m past that phase...not that I ever went through a fat redhead stage...

3. I met a lady in Doha who was 44 years old, single, and from Portland, Maine. She was on her way to Nepal to adopt an 18 month little boy. I’ve never met a more deserving mum. She seemed composed and ridiculously eager. She even packed a little green baby blanket covered in frogs on her carry-on. Tender.

4. Single lady from Portland also told me to “follow my big dreams. Because those are the ones that propel you. Don’t worry about the little dreams. They’ll fall into place along the way.”

5. First impression of Nepali women: negative. I sat next to a lady who seemed to be my age on my way from Doha to Kathmandu. She never spoke a word, and glared at me the whole time. I realized she didn’t speak English and decided to take off my judgmental pants.

6. Movies watched: Leap Year (not so great), An American in Paris (love), An Affair to Remember (love), and Invictus (didn’t get to finish it though…bummer).

When I got to the Kathmandu airport, I looked around at the sea of Nepali faces holding signs with American names. My name was nowhere to be seen. (More internal cursing and fear was settling in of being conned).

“The charm of adventure sweetens that sensation, the glow of pride warm is; but then the throb of fear disturbs it; and fear with me became predominant when half an hour elapsed, and still I was alone.” –Jane Eyre

Finally, Nardev showed up…only 45 minutes late. I got into the tiny taxi and was whisked through the twisty streets of Kathmandu.

First impression of Kathmandu: positive…in fact, more like enchanted. There is a constant hustle and bustle, people wandering through the streets on foot and by bike, cars barely missing one another as they zoom through the tiny spaces in traffic, and little shops selling spices, vegetables, bangles etc.





When we made it to the hostel, it was like walking into heaven. (Finally home sweet home.) It is more run down than the pictures suggested, but it is still charming in its own right. I’ll be living here with Nardev, his wife Seelah, their two children (girl is 5-cute as a button, and boy is 12) and 3 other interns. My room is small, and has two twin size beds (which I’m assuming means that I won’t be alone for the whole summer). We all share one bathroom, we only get 1 hour of water/day, and electricity goes in and out throughout the day. Luckily, the water is hot, and I have wireless internet-that mostly works-when we have electricity...gotta count my blessings!




There is another intern here right now from Washington D.C. I just got the scoop on him…He was in the military, then worked on a tugboat on the East Coast, went to school for photography, and is now here as a journalism/photography intern. He seems quiet and reserved, but has already won the hearts of the kids with his guitar.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so exhausted in my life. I’m eager to go wander the streets, but I can barely keep my eyes open (and it’s only 6:12 as I’m writing this). Time for another nap….let’s just hope they don’t perceive me as the lazy American in Nepal.

Peace. Love. Jetlag.

Estimated Time of Arrival: 8:15 AM June 1st

In a mere 9 days, I'll be off on another adventure; this time to Nepal! I will be working with the Human Rights News and Research Center in Kathmandu for two months conducting legal research and focusing on the rights of women and children.

After a minor panic attack the other day, I'm feeling much more calm and excited to leave. I emailed my contact and bombarded him with about a million questions about basic logistics-the email situation, accommodations, etc. He sent me pictures of the hostel I'll be living in (it looks beautiful!) and said I'll have wireless internet. He also said there will be 3 other western interns-big sigh of relief! It will be great to have people there that I can relate to. Hopefully I won't be as lonesome as I had originally anticipated.

Typical Room in the hostel:

Outside of the hostel:


So, now I'm in major preparation mode. Packing, packing, packing galore! I also have to finish up a couple papers for school before I leave, which is a bummer, but I'm not too worried about them....

More later!
Peace, Love, and Packing!

Vietnam

Vietnam:
Today Jade and I woke up and walked to a breakfast café along the river and ate crepes (mine with a scoop of ice cream) and melted in the beautiful sunshine. It has been a few days since I have seen the sun-it has mostly been overcast skies and rain.



A little later, we packed up and got ready for our 2.5 hour boat trip to Vietnam. Carrying my bags is beginning to be a bit of a burden to say the least. I worry that if a gust of wind comes my way, I’ll be knocked over. I certainly was NOT appreciative of the sun while I was hauling all of my belongings to the boat. I was dripping in sweat. Luckily, our boat was a small speed boat that fit our group of 12 and 4 other travelers. I spent the boat ride reading my newest novel, “The Kite Runner,” and looking out the window at the peaceful river and green shores of Cambodia.

Stepping off of the boat and onto the Cambodian immigration site was like stepping onto a slice of paradise! The palm trees rustled in the breeze, as we walked single file on an old, dilapidated dock, hopped down onto a dirt mound and stood for a short moment while our passports were checked and stamped. Then, we took a short 3 minute boat ride in no-man’s-land to get to Vietnam’s border.

At the Vietnam border, everything was going smoothly and I decided to sit on the boat-despite the fact that I was dripping in sweat and continue reading. Before I knew it, I realized that I had read 50 pages, and we were nowhere near getting our passports back. What was the hold up? Apparently, an older American couple who was traveling on our boat (not part of our group) was having trouble. The gentleman, a burly man with a curly mustache had no room on his passport to get it stamped and the Vietnamese border patrol was refusing to let him into the country. Stupidly, the man ripped off his visa to China and told them to stamp his passport in the newly empty space. This just pissed off the men in charge and they wouldn’t budge to allow him or his wife into the country. We had to send one of our diplomats to urge the man to let it go and let us take them back to Cambodia so that they could contact the US Embassy there. After a little coaxing, he came to his senses and apologetically came back to the boat after almost 3 hours! The whole situation kind of made me embarrassed because everyone was just in awe of how stupid this man had been and thought he was insane for thinking that by throwing a fit, he could get his way. I wondered if people thought that he was being “a typical American,” or if I was just being strangely paranoid. Either way, I feel like when you travel to another country, even though you are an individual, you are consequently representing your country. To act like a fool only reflects poorly on the place that you call home.

After dropping off our bags (and after a full day of traveling by boat, sitting in the heat and sweating) we jumped on some motorcycles to head up to a mountain to watch the sunset. It felt refreshing as the wind beat against my face and thrilling as we turned each corner, or dodged another oncoming motorcycle. The sunset did not disappoint either. Con (our tour guide) lead us to this hidden enclave that looked out onto the flooded valley and we watched the sun slip behind the horizon. Talk about peace and serenity!

We are now finally nestled in our next hotel in the middle of a small fishing village. It is quite nice. The decorations are nice and we have a balcony. Tomorrow, we wake up early and spend another full day traveling, this time by bus, to Ho Chi Minh city. I’m in desperate need of a break, of internet, and of a shower.

Ho Chi Minh City: Formally known as Saigon, (and still referred to as Saigon by many) this city is filled with more motorbikes than I’ve ever seen, and overwhelming-overwhelming to cross the street, overwhelming to be unable to trust people, overwhelming in noise, pollution and context. Our first day, one girl almost got her bag snatched by some motorbikers (luckily, she was able to grab it back just in the nick of time) and another man got a lot of money stolen out of his wallet when he tried to pay his cylco. Needless to say, it is not my most favorite city that I’ve visited. It is hard to be in a city where you have to be constantly aware of everything going on around you.

Today was our tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels, and the War Remnants Museum. The Cu Chi Tunnels are a unique architectural structure and a system of tunnels deeply underground with several floors, a labyrinth of intricate winding, and rooms for meeting, sleeping, cooking and preparing for battle. We were given the opportunity to crawl into them, though I was only able to make it about 2 minutes before I had to turn around. It was suffocating, my heart started to race and I suffered from a slight panic attack when I realized how narrow and dark they were. It is incredible that people had to live in these tunnels for years and years during the Vietnam War.

The War Remnants Museum was opened to the public in 1975 and exhibits photographs, tanks, guns and propaganda used during the Vietnam War. It is a means to display the war crimes and the aftermath of the war on the Vietnamese people. One of the most disturbing exhibitions displayed pictures of handicapped children and Agent Orange victims in Ky Chau village, in Ha Tinh Province. Because of their exposure to the chemicals that were dropped during the war, many children were left with shriveled limbs, deformed hands, feet and faces and adults suffered from severe skin lacerations and irritations.

When I was walking through the museum, I couldn’t help but feel guilty and angry at America. In the various genocide and war studies that I have done in the past few years, there has been a broad scale of emotions that I have experienced. It is difficult to explain how it felt to walk through this museum and be a US citizen and know that the war was initiated by my country. When I would stare at photos of young soldiers, I would feel a deep sadness for what they experienced and for their families worrying and terrified at home. But, then I would look at another picture of a soldier holding an innocent Vietnamese family at gunpoint, and feel an outrage. And all of these emotions are mixed with this sort of skepticism of the extremely biased picture that was painted. What about those at home who were participating in anti-war protests and marches? What about those young men who were drafted and forced to go to war, though they had no desire and no belief in the cause of the war?

Hoi An: Delightfully beautiful and quaint, Hoi An captures some of my most favorite memories of this trip. Two highlights: tailored clothes-designed by me and renting bikes to get to the beach. The streets of Hoi An are lined with tailor shops with eager seamstresses willing to make anything that you could ever desire. You can point to a photo of a Gucci jacket in a Vogue magazine, and in a day, own it. It’s absolutely amazing! The women who made some clothes for me must be mentioned…the shop was owned by three sisters who were the size of popsicle sticks, loved Vietnamese soap operas, and could make pants in a mere hour! They each had such lively and memorable personalities.

Little did I know….Vietnam has the most beautiful beaches that I’ve ever seen in my life. White sand, few people, cool breeze, warm ocean water. I hate swimming in the ocean, but it was just too irresistible, and complete heaven.

This portion of the trip is filled with all of my favorite things: good food, good company (a total of 4 surviving ladies!), amazing shopping, and sunshine! What a perfect way to end this adventure.

Halong Bay: Can only be described in pictures…

Cambodia

As a result of the lack of wireless internet on this part of the trip and the inability to blog weekly, I am going to copy and paste an on-going record of the events that have taken place over the past few weeks….

Cambodia:
My impressions of Cambodia are similar-though not wholly comparable to my impression of Uganda; both slowly progressing in the hands of the corrupt, yet with their fair share of things to be proud of. Unlike Uganda, Cambodia’s scenery is spectacular. The fields of shallow waters laced with reeds, tropical greenery, dirt and potholed roads all paint the stunning portrait that one may imagine. The monsoon rain beats upon my hotel window and the wind rattles the building. I sit, alone in my room, a sort of bubble sanctuary from Mother Nature. If I stand and look out of the window, I see the backyards of locals, dirty and poor and see the homes of the vocal rooster and dogs, so insistent that I stay awake. On the other side of my room is the veranda looking out onto the hotel swimming pool. Among the noises of monsoon, I can hear privileged children splashing and laughing, unaware of their surroundings and happy to play.

The past two days have been filled with Angkor Temples and obnoxious dinners shared with foreign travel companions. The tour has proven to be unlike anything that I had expected, actually it has proven to be more like a bad nightmare. A vacation it is not. For the majority, I feel like I am stuck with embarrassing relatives-all difficult to relate to. I’m staying sane through the help of my neutral, laid-back, British roommate Jade. She is a vault that I am able to confide my frustrations in, though I’m holding back many emotions as to prevent myself from seeming snobbish. I’m not a snob though. They are politically incorrect; make cultural/racial slurs and one man, last night, even personally attacked me! The attack, completely side-swept me and caught me off guard. (It referred to my education and he seemed to think that I have no focus in life.) Today, I resisted visiting a fishing village in order to escape and recuperate.



Later…
The last day that we were in Siem Reap, I shopped a bit in town and had a yummy lunch with even better ice cream. Siem Reap was a quiet and quaint little town, which alternates bar, boutique, restaurant and market, down each of the streets. I felt completely at ease getting around and I am also pleased to take the “tuk tuk” rides, because unlike Indian rickshaws, they are plush, wide and much less hectic.

We are now in Phnom Phen, the capital of Cambodia. We flew in yesterday (one of the quickest and most efficient flights I’ve ever been on) and it felt like we were in a whole different world from quiet Siem Reap. Driving via bus from the airport to our riverside hotel, we passed various factories and big buildings. My first impressions were rather negative, but after today, I am feeling much differently. Despite our smelly, crusty hotel, the area that we are staying is quite charming. My room looks right out onto the river-a beautiful view- and down the street are restaurants and bars. At night there is a lively feel and many people can be spotted through clouds of cigarette smoke, sipping cocktails in large lounge chairs.

Cambodians have style. All of the restaurants and boutiques look incredibly trendy and uniquely inviting. Sometimes, I get lost in the Asian textiles and décor while walking along the streets. While I enjoyed Indian shops better, the Cambodians can boast to the swankiest night scenes.

We have dined at two humanitarian restaurants that are affiliated with the NGO called “Friends,” which supports, educates and cares for street kids of Phnom Phen. Both restaurants had former street kids working and training as waiters/waitresses and chefs. The food was fantastic, as was the cause. I am appreciative to be able to see and support this side of Cambodia, even though I am a mere tourist.

This morning we went to the Genocide Memorial Museum (Tuol Sleng Prison) and the Killing Fields. The prison is located in a sub-district of Phnom Penh and covers an area of 600x400 meters. During the Khmer Rouge regime it was enclosed by two folds of corrugated iron sheets, all covered with dense, electrified barbed wire to prevent anyone from escaping the prison. Houses and the four former school buildings were used as administration, interrogation and torture offices. Within the complex, there were several male and female children (from 10-15 years old) who were trained and selected by the Khmer Rouge to work as guards. Most of them started out normal, but were brainwashed and grew to be increasingly cruel and disrespectful towards the prisoners. The prisoners were kept in tiny cells and chained to the concrete walls. The prison had strict regulations which read as follows:

1. You must answer accordingly to my questions. Do not turn them away.
2. Do not try to hide the facts by making pretexts of this and that. You are strictly prohibited to contest me.
3. Do not be a fool for you are a chap who dares to thwart the revolution.
4. You must immediately answer my questions without wasting time to reflect.
5. Do not tell me either about your immoralities or the revolution.
6. While getting lashes or electrification you must not cry at all.
7. Do nothing. Sit still and wait for my orders. If there is no order, keep quiet. When I ask you to do something, you must do it right away.
8. Do not make pretexts about Kampuchea Krom in order to hide your jaw of traitor.
9. If you do not follow all the above rules, you shall get many lashes of electric wire.
10. If you disobey at any point of my regulations you shall get either 10 lashes or 5 shocks.

There was never anyone released from this prison. Those who were not killed in the prison were bused to the Killing Fields and were either hung or shot. Currently, the Killing Fields are used as a memorial site where a building has been constructed to display all of the skulls and bones of the victims. Still to this day, during the rainy season, bones can be found washed up on the dirt paths.

I was faced with a familiar rush of emotions while wandering through the old prisons and looking at photographs, paintings, skulls and bones. It was so similar to the memorial sites that I visited in Rwanda-I felt angry, repulsed, and depressingly sad. Genocide is a concept that completely boggles my mind. It is one thing to kill an enemy, but to brutally torture a relative or friend is something that I will never comprehend. They explain that the people acting in the genocide were young, impressionable and brainwashed; but how does one brainwash a child to act so brutally? I have yet to wrap my finger around the experience to the fullest-I know these emotions are ones that I will revisit in my mind over and over again, and probably not understand my true feelings until much later.

Photos from today...

This morning was filled with sightseeing....we visited the Grand Palace and the Reclining Buddha. All I can say is: wow! They were absolutely spectacular.

Mural paintings along the walls of the Grand Palace

Ceiling of the Grand Palace

Various buildings and statues in the Grand Palace

Me posing in front of another gorgeous mural

The Reclining Buddha....so big a small village could easily fit inside

First Day in Bangkok

Well how do I begin? I’ve already had quite the adventure in Bangkok and I was in the city a mere 5 hours today. I got dropped off at my hotel which was supposedly this extravagant building with gorgeous suites, only to find that my room resembles a run down Motel 6 room, complete with tacky dark wood doors and matching bed frames. I regret not checking into one of the MUCH cheaper hostels, though this will be more convenient, as my tour starts here. However, it has it’s perks…it sits in the heart of China Town and my window overlooks the whole city, which I greatly appreciate.

Instead of being able to enjoy a day poolside, sipping cocktails as intended, the sky was overcast. I decided instead to relax in my room and fell into a deep sleep. I woke up around noon and decided to do something with myself considering I was, after all, in Bangkok. I got ready to a shower with water beating down on me like no water pressure I’ve ever known, brushed my teeth, ate a small snack and headed out into the world.

I discovered that the few places that I was planning on sightseeing were closing too soon, so instead I took Sonali’s recommendation and hit up a shopping center. The receptionist recommended MBK which is essentially a gigantic mall, much like you would see in New York. One side of the mall has more knock-off designer merchandise than I could handle. Unfortunately, this was the side that I spent most of my time in, unknowing of the other ritzier side. After tiring of fake Chanel purses and D&G sunglasses, I decided to get a bus home. (Much cheaper than an overpriced taxi). Little did I know that when I stepped outside, I would discover “THE OTHER SIDE.” I had to go in to look and see what they had to offer, which included a Steve Madden, MAC, Lucky Brand and The North Face store. All incredibly expensive and made me wish that I was rich. I also wandered through the home décor shops. This is where I spent most of my time in Delhi when I would go shopping, ogling over gorgeous textiles and furniture. However, Bangkok décor just isn’t my thing. It is a little too edgy, modern and sleek. Nothing looks or feels comfortable. Still, it was fun to look.

By the time I left, it was dark and I realized that everything (of course) looks different in the dark. Finding a bus was the easy part, but getting to my hotel was a bit of a disaster. After realizing that I totally did not have my bearings of the city after one afternoon, and looking hopeless I’m sure, I decided to ask for help. The woman next to me told me when to get off, but when I stepped off of the bus, nothing looked familiar. So, naturally, I go into subtle panic mode. You know, the feeling like, “oh shit, I’m in Bangkok and don’t know where the hell I am, and I’m probably going to get murdered and no one will be the wiser,” followed by quick paced walking and consistent looking behind the shoulder. After wandering a bit and still feeling lost, I asked woman cooking some smelly thing on the street. She points, I nod and follow her directions. Still no sign of my hotel. So after about five minutes, I ask another gentlemen who looks like a security guard. He points, I nod and follow his directions. Still no sign of my hotel. Instead, I’ve been walking for about 20 minutes (after getting off of the bus) through garbage and past scary dark alleys. Finally, I recognized the large bucket of artificial KFC chicken that I can see out of my hotel window and let out a sigh of relief. Home sweet home at last. The Grand Ville Hotel never looked so good. Now, I have to be honest, everyone that I talked to was very kind, no one was particularly scary and I was probably over-reacting a bit. But it just gives me the heebie jeebs to be wandering in an unknown city at night. I’ve decided that tomorrow I’m going to get an early start on my sightseeing adventure as to avoid nightfall.

Time for a dinner of pad thai….
Peace!

Jim Corbett Tiger Reserve

Well, here’s how it goes…

This past weekend, Gretta Spendlove (Jonny’s mom) took me under her wing as one of her own and treated me to a weekend getaway with the Spendloves. After my gloomy farewell to the students (who all demanded that I come back to India soon), we went home to pack and tie up loose ends at the apartment. Nancy left for Vietnam and we left for the Old Delhi train station.

Around week 2 in Delhi, we were overly-eager and brave and traveled to Varanasi by non-A/C sleeper train (as avid blog readers might remember). It is incredible how less-affected I was by the whole system and the “train station scene” this time around. Instead of being highly offended by the smells, I remembered to bring a cloth to filter my breaths. Instead of being shocked by the number of people crowded in such a small space-mulling around, begging, sleeping on cement-I became aware that I was one of them. Instead of being baffled by the lack of logic of the station (which proved apparent when we got completely turned around when attempting to find our out-of-order car) I laughed while jogging alongside the train, hoping that it wouldn’t take off without us.

In fact, the train did not take off without us. As we heaved our tired and confused bodies onto the correct train car, the locals/more experienced train goers laughed at our inexperience and sweat. The second that I saw my home sweet home (a bunk squished between two others and lined with a thick, sticky, plastic covering) I sighed in relief. Unlike our first train experience, this train ride would be coupled with air conditioning and sheets for the beds. Also unlike our first train experience, it was a mere 6 hours instead of 16 hours long. This would be a breeze. But then I looked over at Gretta. I think that she was a bit in shock and certainly not aware of what she was getting herself into.

See, the train is a much cheaper way to travel through India. Sure, there are quicker and arguably more convenient flights to take, but they seriously lack the authentic Indian train experience. Little did poor Gretta know that we would be stuffed like sardines onto this grimy train (which to us, after our non-A/C trip to Varanasi looked like the freaking Ritz Carleton) and little did I know of poor Gretta’s claustrophobia. After arranging ourselves on the bunks and making sure she had enough to read, and enough light, I fell asleep. However, she woke up at three in the morning, and had to move out of the bunk to where there was more space. I felt bad and realized that there were some details that we had entirely overlooked. I also felt bad because it made me realize what an experienced and easy-going traveler I have become. (a personal positive attribute recognized at another's expense is somewhat unfortunate.) Regardless, Gretta surprised me with her optimism and said that it sure was an adventure she normally wouldn't have embarked on, but a fun one at that!

After 6 sleepless/sleep-filled hours, we made it to our final destination: Ramenegar, a state in India bordering Nepal, China and Tibet and home to the Jim Corbett Tiger Reserve. I had no idea what to expect for the weekend, I was just coming along for the ride because the Spendloves so graciously invited me. Little did I know the adventures that were in store for me.

We checked into our resort-The Corbett Hideaway and were delighted by its rustic and Club Med-style charm. Clearly, this was going to be a weekend unlike our previous weekend excursions spent in cheap hostels with bug-filled rooms and a single bed to share among four. First thing was first with Gretta: setting up the itinerary. Where Gretta lacked in train-eagerness, she makes up for it in vacation-eagerness. “You don’t relax on a vacation, relaxing is for when you get home,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. Hm….a little different philosophy than what I have been brought up with.

Day one: tiger safari. The much anticipated tiger safari turned out to be nothing what we had expected. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to see any animals to write home about. There were numerous herds of deer (and those who know me well know how un-thrilled I was about that), a bunny, a tortoise and lots of birds. No elephants and no tigers (despite the numerous footprints that we saw). Despite that disappointment, we were pleasantly surprised by the affects of the Indian jungle. It certainly was fun listening for warning sounds that a tiger or leopard was near, searching for wildlife and enjoying the fresh air and nature.

Day two: river rafting and elephant joyride. River rafting was my most favorite part of the weekend. I’d never been before and I have to say, I’m totally hooked now. We causally drifted along the Cosi River, occasionally hitting some exhilarating rapids that splashed over our raft. The weather was beautiful and I was able to get some sun on my shoulders. Towards the end of the trip, our guide let us jump out and swim in the river. It felt so good to swim-my first time this summer! I relaxed and let the currents carry me a little ways before swimming back to calmer waters. The sand felt thick under my feet and the whole experience reminded me of Walloon Lake. Later, when we got back to the resort, we rung out our soaking wet clothes and got ready for our elephant joyride. I was hesitant to join, but Gretta was eager to have us all involved. Our elephant was a 40 year old female named Latchme. She took us on a little safari of her own through some forest brush. It was a different experience to travel on an elephant and I felt so sad when our guide would whack her with his metal pole. I will even go as far to say that it rightly pissed me off.

Day three: stuck inside most of the day due to monsoon downpour, then a nature walk. We slept most of the day during the monsoon, I finished reading Water For Elephants (a story about the circus), and then went on an hour long nature walk. Our guide nonchalantly mentioned the likeliness of seeing a tiger on our way, which agitated Jenny and I-especially when we realized we had nothing to protect us if an encounter did occur. Luckily, there was no such encounter. It was our fourth excursion into the wild, and I have to say, I was ready to get back to Delhi-as I can only take so much nature in one weekend (a true city girl at heart.)

I left The Corbett Hideaway feeling like I had experienced a weekend of relaxation and rejuvenation (despite the constant activities). I’m happy to say that I am now completely pumped to experience the final leg of my four month journey.

Last night, I said my goodbyes to the Spendloves at the airport and we went our separate ways. I was thankful of the efficiency of the new Delhi airport, there were no major issues whatsoever and I’m now safely in Bangkok sitting in my room at the Grand Ville Hotel. I’ve been greatly disappointed by the weather-I was really hoping to spend my entire time in Bangkok enjoying the pool and sipping cocktails, however the gray skies have tampered with these plans. So, it looks like I will in fact be sightseeing after all.

Stay tuned for more on Bangkok….
Peace!