Missed

Im back in Denmark. Very unusual for the season, here's still snow. My sabbatical year is over, the money has (almost) been spent and new things are to happen. I'll be considering the options quite a bit over the next months, some will happen here as well.

But for now, you'll get a picture of me and the guy, who's missed me the most: my dad. With a smile as his for welcome it's quite alright to be home (for a while)...

Location:Mølledalen,Værløse,Danmark

Suggestions

I've always loved the Indian governments (fairly unsuccessful) tries to improve the safety on the roads in this country.

In my earlier post about my morning cycling, I posted this poetic favourite:
No race
No rally
Enjoy the beauty of the valley

Another favourite I got on the road to Darjeeling:
Donate blood in blood bank
Not on this road

And finally this classic one:
Life is short
Dont make it shorter

But well, of course I got some pics for you as well. Shot while I were driving from camp to Dehradun airport yesterday (we'll take the sentimental part about it being for the last time on this trip later).

A humble - please observe traffic rules thanks

Matter of factly - Speed thrills but kills

Almost too obvious - Accidents hurt - Safety doesn't

Practical - better late than never

Value based - time is money but life is precious

Play on words #1 - Short cuts may cut short your life

And finally the newest among my favourites:

Play on words #2 - It's better to lose one minute in life than to lose life in a minute

Location:The road from Atali/camp to Rishikesh

Meeting strangers...

One of the best things about travelling is the people you meet, often by coincidence. Saturday was one of those days.

I'd had an epic welcoming to Mumbai Friday night with a thorough sightseeing at the city's bars and clubs with good friends as guides and were pretty zonked. Therefore, Laila had taken off hours earlier and when I finally got up and out, I had a couple of hours of strolling by myself in the area Colaba with several food and coffee pitstops.

I had lunch at Leopold's - a famous restaurant, not least due to it's central part in the best-seller Shantaram. Very recommendable novel by the way, not due to it's literary qualities that are few, but because of the incredible (true) story.

Due to the fame, Leopold's is an extremely busy place, so if you get there as a single visitor, you're asked whether you mind sharing the table with other singles (not necessarily for match making). I didn't and where shown to the spot opposite of Laurence from Durban in South Africa. Laurence owns a take away hub at home, which his wife is looking after while he's on holiday. Laurence were in Bombay (yup the name shifts all the time just as for the locals - officially renamed Mumbai in 1996, but Bombay is still alive) for a week, stayed at a hotel around the corner, had eaten all his meals so far in the same restaurant, found Bombay extremely hectic and hence, didn't really move much around. He'd ordered chili chicken, because he'd seen someone else getting it, when he entered the restaurant and thought it looked delicious (it is, but also pretty much the most spicy you'll get in India). He has 2 kids and to grandkids and therefore believed it was safe for me to talk to him. I thought so too - grand kids or not. We had a nice conversation for an hour and I got a picture.

I weren't really ready for activities, so fairly shortly after Leopold's, I moved on to Starbucks. Again, I only took up one of the two chairs at a table, so when Rana (of course I didn't know his name at that point) asked if he could use the other chair, of course it was yes.

I were busy writing a blog post, so it wasn't till I'd finished the coffee, we started talking. He had the coolest camera and since my old, but big SLR was lying on the table, it didn't take long to find our common interest. It turned out he was a photo journalist at Times of India and has made some interesting features about pollution scandals in India. I had to go as I were meeting Laila, but I got his email address and a promise of him sending me the articles.

And now, Im in the airport in Mumbai on my way back up to the mountains for a few days - and hence no web access. This will be a week of many farewells and see yous - Im not particular good at that...

Location:Empty tables, Colaba, Mumbai

Win a luxury car

Location:Gateway of India, Mumbai

Love from India - impressions from my first day in Mumbai

Love from India

Leaving an impression

Lucky car

Flowers in the concrete

Happiness is meeting up with good friends after a long time

Location:B K Boman Behram Marg,Mumbai,India

How to conquer a fort

If you've been considering to conquer Daulatabad Fort, you'll probably find these recommendations useful...

First of all, it is important that you enter from the right side of the fort. The rock formation, on which the fort is located, has been cut and shaped so it has a 60 meter steep wall, almost all the way around. Also, keep an eye out for cannon balls from about 15 kilometers ahead of the fort.

Bring both elephants and camels. The elephants for breaking the gates. The camels to be used as "pillows" between the elephant and poisoned nails on the gates. Bring plenty of camels. They are only usable for one gate each.

Find some, who can tell you which of the 59 gates are the right ones to get you through the four walls into the main fort. There are 52 fake gates.

Fake gate.

Be aware that the elephants may find it hard to gain speed between the gates as they are constructed in uneven angles. And as we all know, elephants needs at least 250 meters to get to their maximum pace.

Oh yes, and this is very important: do bend your head, when you're coming up the stairs after passing the moat. Chances are that some guy will be sitting there and chop your head off.

From now on look out for:

• Fake corridors leading to slides that will take you to the moat.
• Fake corridors leading to exits, where your head gets chopped off when passing and your body can be thrown out from the fort.
• Fake circular corridors made to get you attack your own guys.
• The completely black stairs with very high and uneven steps. All light comes from trick windows made to get you jump out in front of an armed man or just falling down a slide to the Valley of Death.
• The uneven steps, 1 up, 2 down that are made to get you to stumble.
• The stumbling stones, when you turn around a corner and not watching your step.
• Also look out for the boiling oil, which may be poured down the wall.
• And finally there's the 467 steps up to the biggest cannon at the top...

If you get there, it's fairly pretty, though ...

Ps: if you succeed in conquering the fort by attack, you'll be the first.
Pps: If your visiting Daulatabad Fort without intentions of attack, I can highly recommend a tour with the guide Bhaskar Pokhari:

Location:Daulatabad Fort, Aurangabad, Maharastra

Starlet behavior

I've always gotten lot of attention in India. Im white (and in Indian terms blonde), Im taller than the average Indian (170 cm) and then Im traveling without a husband. My lovely wide brimmed hat hasn't reduced the attention on this trip (though Laila, who's dressed traditionally Indian isn't avoiding it either).

Hence, I've ended up in many Indian photo albums over the years, and by principle I say yes to all asking to take a picture off or with me - I take so many pictures myself of Indians and India that it's fair they're getting a few back.

Or rather, I did until a few days ago - lately I've had to make some restrictions.

1. If Im listening to a guide it is not ok to interrupt to get a picture. Please wait till the guide has finished.
2. One picture - not ten.
3. I will not move for the photo - they'll have to come to me.
4. When there's 30 in line, I might end the photo session so I can move on...

Even with these limitations, I've still had more than 100 pics clicked of me and strangers over the past couple of days...

Just to show that Im not exaterating, here's the view from one of yesterday's sessions. Taken secretly at hip level. We stopped the session after five minutes.

I am by the way awfully aware of how much I'll miss the attention when Im back in Denmark and walking around completely unnoticed.

And writing of photos, there's another feature, which is quite nice. Some Indians don't have their own camera, but still like to be clicked. Those I always say yes to - no matter how many asking.

No, it isn't Taj Mahal.

And some times these situations lead to absolutely wonderful pictures:

Location:In front of a camera somewhere...

Curry aka Khalil

Our driver to Ajanta and Ellora (we'd chosen the complete touristy solution of our own taxi both days) was named Khalil, but so used to driving for tourists that he introduced himself as Curry.

Khalil had over the years collected many stories and jokes for his guests and made a huge effort in securing us against tourist touts.

Back to his stories. About Indian traffic:
You need three things to survive in Indian traffic:
Good horn
Good brakes
Good luck

About a place we passed:
This is a government guest house. Accomodation is free, food is free. Everything is free. It is a prison...

But Curry's funnies story probably were unvoluntaryly when he recommended and showed us the restaurant Rough and Tough (as he called it...).

Location:A car in and out of Aurangabad

Big caves. Old caves

We've gone south to Aurangabad and the UNESCO World Heritage caves in Ellora and Ajanta. The caves are actually temples and monasteries that are carved into the rocks. The oldest by buddhists in Ellora in 200 A.D. The newest by Jains in Ajanta around 900 A.D. There's about 30 caves each place. They were forgotten for centuries and then rediscovered by British soldiers in 1820. Actually, one of the caves in Ajanta as late as 1956.

The caves are World Heritage for a reason. They are completely overwhelming in their detailing, sculpturing, painting, everything - we spent a full day at both sights. The caves have been described by many others, so I'll just post a few impressions - if you want to learn more, you'll have to visit yourself - or google it.

The Ajanta caves with sculptures from cave no. 5 or 6 in the foreground.

Self portraits and ceiling is my latest photo thing - I like the perspectives you get. Both sights were perfect for it.

A man in front of thousand year old carvings in Ellora.

This huge temple has ben carved out of one big rock. You can see the rock still surrounding the temple. Basically just awfully impressive.

I'll never get old enough to stop laughing of a carved penis...

Elephants for Mum and Jens.

Two muslim men looking at buddhist sculptures.

Laila in a peaceful moment.

A Shivling or a lingam - an incarnation of Shiva's penis... The hindus praise it. I never get so old either that I wont find that fact funny...

Location:Ajanta and Ellora caves, Aurangabad, Maharastra

Imran

I have a shawl guy. His name is Imran. He's the only one, I'd ever buy a pashmina shawl from. Somehow, it sounds as if I buy a lot of pashmina shawls. Compared to many others, I probably do. But most of all, I just really like Imran.

I've known him for 8-9 years and I've posted about him before because Allah is looking out for our friendship. (My first writings about Imran)

Yesterday, we also met him at Dilli Haat. We being Laila, Meera and me. As usual, Imran suddenly appears. Hugs are shared, people introduced and Imran invites us for a drink. Then follows a long talk about Kashmir and the problems the locals are facing in their struggle to live a peaceful life in their beloved land. Imran is always able to talk about Kashmir. About the scenery, which you wont find equal anywhere else in the world. About the food that are richer, plentier and cooked with more passion than anywhere else. And hence, he would like Kashmir to become a more normal place to live. I know a little about the problems in Kashmir, but Meera is a true expert and her and Imran had a very good conversation. If it had been up to the two of them, this conflict would have been solved in mutual respect in a few hours (ok, perhaps days).

I've been invited to Kashmir several times and have so far been rather hesitant, because no insurance companies or foreign ministries will approve. On the other hand, Imran is right when he's pointing out that they never will and that he'll be my insurance instead, knowing the area and the risks there. Point is, I've promised to come to Kashmir next time I get here.

And of course Imran has some beautiful shawls of really good quality and for a very reasonable price. 8 years ago his shawls were the best and cheapest. They still are. Laila bought 13.

I once (whished I) had a farm in India

Pablo Neruda, Salvador Dali and Ayesha Grewal's parents have something in common.

They've built magical houses. As the two first mentioned also are famed for their art, their houses are now museums (link to Neruda post). Ayesha is selling organic groceries in Delhi. Groceries produced by organic farmers in Kumao (close to Silversands and Atali) and at her family's farm in Rajasthan. And I'm lucky to be friends with Ayesha and to get invited to the farm. Which is where I'm sitting right now. In the morning sun. Coffee on the table and the noice of the peacocks in the background. Freshly milked milk in the coffee.



The house is wonderful. No straight angles. No traditional interior designs. Consisting of perhaps 30 domes each creating a room. As organic as the food being produced here.



Some rooms are divided by doors, some by curtains and others again by the colors of the walls.


The dining room seen from the table (and partly yet another self portrait).

My bed/sleeping cabin

One of the living rooms. Each arch is leading to a new dome and hence a new room.

It's even possible to walk up on the roof and get surrounded by the domes. Which is a awfully nice thing to do when the sun is setting and the light gets as soft as the shape of the domes.



Besides being a magical dome house, the place is, as mentioned, also a farm. An organic farm. Ayesha's parents established the farm in the early 80'ies, buying the land bit by bit, planting trees, establishing fields and diverted the production into being organic. Ayesha's father chose this exact area, where the soil is poor and the sun burning hot most of the time, to show that it is possible to grow organic everywhere. He has succeeded.

We were given a tour around the farm. Saw mango trees, bee cubes, tasted freshly picked guavas:



Greeted the cows, who deliver the milk for our coffee, the chickens producing eggs and meat. The dripping pipes and the compost, which are key elements in organic production. We saw all of it.




Guru, the farm manager, gave us the tour. He's been working here for 20 years and is extremely proud of his organic farm. Here carrying three beet roots for our salad.

Last night they lit a fire for us and we found the only down side to the farm... A gigantic group of birds chose the bamboos right behind us for the nightly rest and made an infernal noice - until the fell a sleep. But honestly, that's a down side I'll live with anytime.

Location:Ayesha's farm in Rajasthan