Time

I have an hour and a half before I leave for the airport. 

Leaving India. 

Made two good drawings. Took some pictures and had a nice snack. 

I'm far away from when I landed in Delhi just twenty days ago. 

Every year it happens. 

I'm changed. 

Folding in all the things I've seen, the people I've met and the person I am and hope to be. 

Every year, somewhere inside I ask the question, "Do you still have it?

Am I slow? Tired? Old?

Usually it's easily answered. 

Last year this trip was soft. Paris, Monte Carlo, Arles. No struggle, just travel.

Was it going to be turn down service and comp breakfasts? Do I still have it?

Fuck yea. Stupid for me to even ask this year. Overnight trains, mile walks in the heat with bags stuffed. 

I could have been harder.

Harder ...

Better.

I still have it.

The rocks

I found the one of the hard rocks on google maps . So fucking easy it was crazy. One bus and one minute walk. 

Don't ask why I was going to hard rock. It's just my thing, okay. 

It's hot. Nothing new but it bears repeating. My bus, the 332, is going by, it slows to avoid killing a motorbike and I jumpgrab the side handle. I'm on. 

I work my way inside, pay my fare and hang on. I'm watching my spot on Google Map on my phone. Fucking amazing. I'm in India and I can GPS myself with my phone. I used to do this with just my guide book and a lot of time. 

We're going. And going. And going. 

The road gets narrow and dirty. Then office tower. Bizzare.

The map says I'm at the end. 

The bus slows on the middle of traffic and I jump into the middle of the stopped cars and get to the side of the street. I walk to where hard rock is on the map.

.

.

.

Dirt.

Road over pass. 

Motorbikes. 

.

.

.

Hard rock?

No.

. 

Google did this to me before in Jaipur. The temple I was looking for was actually blocks away . A local lady helped me get where I was going so I tried the same tact. 

Hard rock was not a big draw for this crowd so I decided to abort this mission and regroup at the hotel.

But it's 3pm.

I had breakfast at 10am.

I should eat. With the heat and all I know I shouldn't run on no food for long.

Walking down the street I saw a tiny restaurant. People yammering and lining up to get in. When the locals line up its a good sign.

I got there and a young guy was standing in front of a cauldron on oil. Red oil. In the oil, chunks of meat covered in a chili based batter. I knew this because the smoke and the flavor on the smoke caressed my skin and punched me in the face.

I walked up and asked the kid what it was in English. 

He looked at me to say why are you speaking English and responded, chicken.

He pointed to the cash the cash register where I ordered one chicken potoya and a limca. Limca is essentially lime and soda water. Pretty fucking good.

In about three minutes a shallow metal tray with about ten pieces of hellish red chicken pebbles slid in front of me. Some veg and a green cilantro sauce.

Now in context because I was hungry my opinion here might be affected but that chicken was other worldly.

I crunched into chicken bone and hot chili juice coated my mouth. The wave of flavor pushed my eyes it the front of my head.

So I had more. 

My mouth,

tongue, 

lips,

and teeth were on fire in the best way possible. 

And when I needed to pull back. Limca.

I swept up the red chili and green sauce with chapati. Which was also essentially a tortilla. Perfect.

I have yet to pay the digestive price for this lunch but when it comes... It was worth it.

56H

Up early. Got a car from the hotel  to get to the airport early.

Booked my flight last night from bed. 58 bucks USD. It's a pretty good life.

Check in. Security . Board. No problem. Seat 56H. 

It's an exit row so I have to put everything overhead and it's an aisle. I prefer window but fuck, come on, there is nothing bad about this situation. 

It's going to be a full flight. Kids, older people are shuffling by. The seat next to me gets full then the other. 

It's cool. It's part of the experience. 

Until. A dude is looking at his ticket. 

56H.

I'm about to shit. Am I on the right flight?! Is it the right day?! Fuck! 

On the inside...

In the real world, I check my ticket and I'm good. Whatever, they'll fix it. 

They take both of our tickets and go to the front. 

About a minute later, the guy comes back and asks me to come with him. 

This is one of those planes with a second level. I've never been on a second level.

Sir, we apologize. You've been upgraded...

I'm cool on the outside but I'm pretty happy on the inside. 

Seat 16j, A short glass of fruit juice and my lunch order in I'm putting my feet up. 

It's going to be a good flight. 

Well done Hyderabad. I'll see you again.

Hyderabad

Train gets in at 7 o'clock.

It's 80°

I checked the map on my phone. It's 3.2 miles to my hotel. Only an idiot would walk from the train station to the hotel.

Pretty much everyone of these cities looks the same to me now. Asphalt. Trees. Random cows and dogs. It's good. My feet are okay. I just slept for 10 hours on the train this should not be a problem but...the heat. I'm starting to sweat and the the little autorickshaw drivers are hovering on me. They're pretty persistent at the train station. I look like I'm fresh meat to them, but I'm waving them off with my hand, low to the ground and shaking in a manner that means no. 

I'm walking. My bag slung over my the top of my head and it's resting on my backpack. I'm alternating between carrying the bag at the end of my arm and carrying it on the top of my shoulders on my backpack. It's a long way and I'm walking through cow shit, horseshit and dog shit. Every couple of minutes an autorickshaw driver comes up and tries to get me in. I'm saying, "No, I'm good" and they smile, because I don't look good. 

I keep pushing. It's hot I get to nice street with the trees on each side so I have some shade. 

The buses aren't stopping. If they got me up the road a bit it would help but they blunder by sounding their horns. 

I remember that on the map it says my hotel is near the red hills and the road starts to rise. Nothing horrible but with sweat in my eyes and my shirt sticking to me it's somewhat unpleasant.

The trees subside and I'm in the open. Sun on me. The rickshaws keep coming but I keep waving them off.

I'm on the same page on my phone map. I have to be close but the road keeps going up. 

I sit down for some water on the steps of a business. I've been walking for and hour and a half. 

I stop in a market and buy a club soda and a coke. I'm planning for the end. At this point a bus rickshaw or motorbike is not an option. I'm getting there myself. 

Walking the street you can see a brand new office building next to a man in a shack frying bread for a nickel. The extremes can be severe. 

I'm still going up and I pass a talk thin man leading two blind men down the roadside. I can't imagine what it's like to be blind walking on the road with busses rickshaws and everything screaming around you.

Map says turn left.

Left. 

Down. 

It's here. 

The reception welcomes me to the pearl city. I'm offered a drink check in.

Fuck.....,

Shower.

My bucket of ice comes and....aahhhhhhh

I feel good. Tired but good. 

Seeing the town for a bit and moving on.

Times running out.

Leaving town

I'm pretty tense on travel days. 

Lots of shit can go wrong and since I was little it's been a phobia. 

I check my tickets , passport, money, clothes, toothbrush , everything. 

I have a routine and if I follow it I'm usually good even if something does go wrong.

So I packed last night. Booked hotel. Checked the train ticket, passport..,, etc.  So I slept okay.

This morning, breakfast. Coffee. Two hours later, dump. I'm on schedule. 

I wanted to take the bus to the train station. But I was getting nervous for some reason. So I hired an autorickshaw.  It's a 50rp ride. First guy wants 200. 

I know it's a negligible difference in dollars but by this time my reserves are low and I don't like to get pegged as a dumb ass with an open wallet. I'll tip that big no problem but if you want to  put your hand in my pocket like that, I won't do it.

Next guy goes for 150. Bad. But better. Could still do the bus but I want a bigger margin at the station. We go. 150.

I'm used to the noise, the constant cutting and dodging of every fighter on and in the street.

We are at the station and I wait. The train is there and I'm on. 

Twelve hours to Hyderabad. 

One guy is singing and two guys are taking the way old women talk at the landromat .

It will be a long ride.

Bangalore

5am

 I'm in a tiny car on the way to the airport. My plane isn't until 7am but I don't like surprises on a travel day. 

I'm groggy but the panther crossing sign we passed is keeping my eyes on the side of the road. 

The outside if town is dirty and a little broken but not worse than anywhere I've seen at home or other places. The idea of India being ravenously poor and dangerous I think is a matter of perception. 

I have only seen a tiny fraction of the country and the people I've met so far have been great. 

I get to the airport and get on the plane make it to Bangalore and I'm okay. Off the plane and you know I've got a I have to take a shit but I can tell that the event horizon this is pretty far off so I decided to get some coffee. 

As I get older, the importance of a regular and comfortable bathroom visit is an in believably high priority and keeping in tune with the defcon status is always a prime concern. 

But at this point I'm off the plane I just getting some coffee before I jump in a taxi or bus or whatever. I feel okay I grab a coffee put my bag down. There's a comfy chair. I lean up against it, I have two sips of coffee and go from defcon four to defcon two. Which is bad. Now I have to pick up my bags, have to and this cup of coffee and find the toilet. 

It's on the other side of the terminal. I go through a little maze of partitions and I find it.

All stalls occupied. So I wait and I wait and I wait what seems like 20-30 minutes but is probably like two and one of the doors opens. There's  an airport older gentleman with the suit and a little pin. He works for the airport. And he opens the door and our eyes meet. 

He looks like he just committed a crime. 

He nods his head to me and he turns around and he takes some tissue paper and wipes down the seat and then he come out like walks away like he just drop the bank. 

I have to go in. 

I have no choice right now.  Fortunately for me the atmosphere could sustain human life maybe the smell of the streets had deadened my senses but I leisurely conducted my business and made off to my hotel. 

More later

Ps dinner, lunch actually my schedule is jacked up. Lunch was awesome. Huge prawns, fried and spicy and garlic. Wow!

Every silver lining though...

The restaurant was small and they were playing techno music which I hate, and the waiter literally watched me eat. 

And when I took a break he tried to chat with me. 

I'm not that entertaining. I swear.... 

Holi pt 2

Went back to the pink city. 

The Main Street, full of people, some animals, noise. I could have stayed straight but i turned right, down some stairs into a back street. 

A lot of people would never come here. Narrow, dirty, broken but I like to go where no one wants to go. And it made me trip.

The lane got tighter . Groups of men covered on colored dust yelled at me..,

Happy holi!

Came up to me wiped color on my face and embraced me with genuine affection. 

This happend a couple of times until I came to an intersection and I saw men dancing and clouds of colored dust. I went over and every one hugged me wiped color on my face. 

Some guys came down the road one with a drum and everyone sat down and it was a party

http://youtu.be/fbXSRlqOCNY

I danced and sat in the street and clapped my hands to the drum. 

It was one of the best moments I could have imagined 

This is what I came for...