20th - 26th September, McLeod Ganj

After a somewhat uncomfortable overnight bus-ride I arrived in Dharmasala.

Arriving was like a breath of fresh air! After the dirty sprawl of Delhi, seeing the rolling hills on one side and the snow dusted (near Himilayan) mountains on the other made me happy. I was thanking Buddha that India wasn't all that bad.

The monestary was a fifteen minute walk down a path, but for the beauty and peacefulness of the spot it was worth it.

The town (Mcleod Ganj) is nice, it's where the Dalai Lama lives, and is predominantly Tibetan. The town was set up as a refuge for all Tibetans forced out by the Chinese.

I made friends with some German girls that were architecture students and had just come back from the north where they were helping construct a hospital they'd designed for a village.

There were good shops and surprisingly good coffee... latte to rival Auckland's finest. We spent too much time at Carpe Diem which is a really chilled cafe run by some cool guys from Nepal. We watched the 20Twenty world-cup final there, I had to explain the rules to a bunch of Swiss and the locals went mental when India won. There was also a jam session which was cool (except for the free styling Canadian) and breakfast each morning usually lasted until the afternoon.

One day a monk led us to a waterfall. During the walk I was gazing at what could have made a nice photo when the ground fell from under me. I'd fallen off the edge and luckily slapped my forearms against the side to keep me from falling further. I was glad, I don't fancy getting air-lifted to an Indian hospital. The waterfall was nice, straight from the glaciers, so our unplanned swim was short lived.

We went to a teaching by the Dalai's 2IC which was enlightening.

I got sick with a cold and a cough.... who comes to India and gets a cold? No shits, a cold. I was even constipated. In India. I think September was backwards month.

19th - 20th September, The World's Arse

Delhi is horrible.

I spent the first day with a rickshaw driver visiting some of the sights.... the park where Gandhi was cremated, some place with a big tall pillar thing, the Bahai Temple of Worship (that looks like the Sydney Opera House) bla bla bla.

Thing is, I found the people and how they were living far more interesting than the sights. I saw a naked old man that was so skinny he looked like he was about to turn to dust, other people lying on the street looking dead, people shitting and pissing, a few cows, had a child run after my rickshaw 'cause she wanted my pepsi, and an abundance of other beggars with an array of deformities.

I was talking with a man during breakfast that ran a Tibetan monestary in Dharmasala. He suggested that I go and stay, it sounded nice so I booked a bus for the next day.

My malaria pills had been giving me crazy dreams. That night I woke up and thought I'd slept-walked to the port (Delhi has no port). I freaked out, fossicked for the torch in my bag and realised, with much relief, that I was still in my room.

The second day was similar to the first. Visited the Red-fort then tried to stray from the tourist spot and go for a meal down one of the busy local streets. I got half way down and turned back, it was too much.

I went back to catch my bus. Before boarding I gave money to a wheel-chair bound midget beggar who had weird stubs for feet and hands... he talked like a cartoon elf.