A lot of the time, people ask me if I am homesick. Of course, I miss things about home, my family, friends and city, but there are some more abstract things that come to mind when asked if I miss things. Laying in a hot bath, South American food, and cold air rise to the top of that list. After the crazy heat of Rishikesh, I fled to the cold of the Himalayas. First, I had to finish up things in town.

Inhala, Exhala

A friend from the three hundred hour course invited a few of us to attend her required teaching course. The three hundred hour course was made up of girls from Russia, who didn’t speak too much English and the most patient Chilean girl I have ever met. The group had a translator, so she spent the month hearing information in English, followed by a translation in Russian, all day for a month. As I said before, I spent a lot of time at the ashram hearing and attempting to speak Spanish. As there would be no translator for the class anyways, she opted to teach in Spanish. Up at 6am, I went to the class, fully prepared for my tired brain to fail me. A good flow class actually requires little instruction. The movements should go with your breath and a quick peek to the front can confirm yopu are in the right pose. As the class went on, I realized that regardless of how good my Spanish was, I don’t know the names of body parts, and most of yoga instruction refers to body movement. I also realized I forgot the word for breathe. Oh well, an hour later, I had completed my first yoga class in Spanish. We all said our goodbyes and then I made a visit to the place that helped encourage me to do my training in Rishikesh.

All You Need Is Transcendental Meditation

About fifty years ago, the Beatles lived in an ashram in Rishikesh, India to learn Transcendental Meditation with Maharishi. Since this occurrence, Transcendental Meditation and Rishikesh gained popularity. The ashram in which they lived still stands today, but almost as ruins. The ashram is a tourist attraction, costing about a American dollar for locals or eight dollars for foreigners. This ashram is more of a complex than an ashram though.

Currently run by the same people who run the Rajaji Tiger Reserve, the profits are used for upkeep. Upon entering the ashram, you go up a long winding walkway which end up upon the area of dome shaped meditation buildings. The bottom floor of each of these appear to be living quarters and a bathroom, with the upstairs being an open area with an opening facing the river. Some of these are filled with graffiti, a common occurrence here. Most of the ashram is covered in graffiti, outside of areas clearly marked “No Graffiti”. The domes are small and peacefull, the stairs had a minimalistic design, and some of them have held the test of time better than others.

Past the meditation quarters, there is the post office and some other buildings before reaching a building containing a cafe, and some photo galleries. The galleries cover wildlife, Maharishi, The Beatles and Transcendental Meditation. A year or so ago, I had looked into Transcendental Meditation, even going so far as to sign up for a session in Cleveland. Upon hearing that you had to pay a fee before you could receive your mantra and certain things were not to be discussed, I opted out. In the future, I will probably attend one just to check it out, but I usually keep away from those kinds of scenarios, although a lot of my favorite celebrities are TM supporters. After this building, the complex gets expansive.

There are tons of buildings in the complex, many of them were housing quarters or kitchens or who knows what. I checked out most of these, as the graffiti was quite impressive. I will sprinkle some of my favorites throughout this post, but the yoga hall deserves a special mention, as it held some very large portraits of The Beatles and Maharishi, as well as some word art.

Next was the very large housing complexes. There were two of them, with many levels of rooms. I made a quick run through both but mostly the ground floor and roofs contained the only good art I found. Both roofs housed more of the meditation domes, but these ones had their externals beautifully decorated. Here is a cool view from the one whose ladder was still intact enough to climb (Sorry, Mom), enjoy.

Behind these buildings, overlooking the river, was Maharishi’s home. I didn’t get many pictures of this, but it was much more ornate than the other simple buildings of the complex, even having a marble looking porch. A small path from the home led to the eighty four caves used for meditation and yoga. I didn’t venture into these as it was dark, and they were lined with river rocks, which just looked like tiny skulls. This was a no graffiti zone, besides the main yoga hall where they all converged and this had some cool graffiti. Throughout the caves were also small areas dedicated to specific asanas. After these caves, I found the home The Beatles actually lived in. This was actually the least interesting part, as it was not graffiti’d but had been mostly stripped, so was just a small building.

An interesting look at the past, some beautiful grounds and a nice walk later and I headed back to get everything together in my room.

Back To The Backpack

I grabbed lunch with the remainder of the yoga group. There were probably five farewell lunch/dinners, as everyone left at different times. I left mine to get everything together and head to my bus. After being dropped off by the ever helpful Mukesh, the man at the desk informed me that my 4:00pm bus would not be there until 7:30pm and that I could sit there and wait. Doubtful. I left my bags and walked back to the ashram. A quick shower and some tea with Antonia seemed much more enjoyable than sitting in a hot building. When I returned, the office was filled with a group from the Spanish Yoga course housed near my school and a group of Israeli girls we had met in a restaurant.

When the bus arrived, we all got on. When I handed the man my ticket, he pulled out his phone and started yelling to someone. Never a good sign. My ticket said seat twenty eight, but he put me in twenty nine. Good enough for me. After a couple sat in twenty seven and twenty eight, he asked me to move behind twenty seven. I agreed before getting into said seat. The girl in seat twenty seven immediately put her seat all the way back, which let me find out the seat was broken. Not only was the fully reclined seat almost touching me, but the left side was broken, so it was so low my leg didn’t fit. When I made mentioned, she replied, “Well, I am going to have to sleep.”…and everyone thinks Canadians are so nice. After everyone got on the bus, half of the seats were open, meaning we would be picking up others, but twenty nine was still open and I paid the same price as everyone else, so I returned. Other people took the broken seats.

The bus was uncomfortable and the furthest back I could put my seat without physically crushing the guy behind me was not comfortable enough to sleep. I dozed in and out over the course of the thirteen hour ride. Entering the mountainous area of Dharamshala, the views were incredible and the roads were horrifying. Each lane was about one and a half cars wide, with the bus whipping around the corners. Every curve, you could feel the bus teeter on its center of gravity. I wish I was asleep to avoid this knowledge. I arrived and got my stuff. I contacted Ana, who had been my city guide in Rishikesh, and asked if I should walk or taxi to the hostel. She told me it was a thirty minute walk, but it was straight uphill, so I opted for the taxi.

A Hunger For Knowledge

I actually stayed in Dharamkot, which is a bit higher up than Dharamshala, McLeodanj (where the Dalai Lama lives) and Bhagsu (where everyone goes for yoga), so it gave me a beautiful view. It was pretty awesome to do yoga in the fresh, mountain area overlooking the cities. My first day, I did a walk through each of the cities, which are about twenty minutes from each other. Bhagsu is similar to Rishikesh, mostly yoga and cafes and shops. McLeodanj is more of the busy, tourist streets you expect in main Indian cities. Dharamshala was the more commercialized area. Over trails and through rocks, I had to try the local dessert, Bhagsu cake. I also picked up some Thai fisherman pants, as I never got a chance to buy any in Thailand, and a yoga mat with accompanying bag so I could continue practicing.

The hostel I stayed in was brand new and also functioned as a coworking space, so it was perfect to get some coding practice in and write that big long post about my month of yoga. I had the whole dorm to myself for the first three nights, which was awesome. I slept with a comforter and was still uncomfortably cold, a feeling I had forgotten. I still opted to wear tanktops and shorts for the first two days, as I truly missed the feeling of being cold.

As I have mentioned in other blogs, I am constantly mistaken as Israeli, Spanish, Greek and, on rare occasion, Italian. Due to this, I have learned to say “I don’t speak Hebrew” in Hebrew, thanks to the frequency with which people come up to me in full blown Hebrew conversation. Dharamkot is literally brimming with Israelis. My aesthetic isn’t helped by the fact that my travel footwear of choice is a pair of Tevas, which seems to be the calling card of an Israeli traveler. I fall short on just the sheer amount they all smoke, but otherwise, I fit right in.

he second day, I felt like learning something new, as yoga had been the only thing I really had time for in Rishikesh. I roamed around Bhagsu looking at different things. Music lessons, Reiki, Sound Healing, Hindi, nope, nope, nope. Although, keep an eye out for me learning harmonica in the future, just not for the prices they wanted. I finally decided on Mandala drawing, cool local art that you will see everywhere in India. I discussed prices and content and the man was a bit vague. Anyone who knows my family knows that my father and middle sister have a god given talent for art, and all that was left for me was math and science. I have always been able to memorize lines and angles to replicate art, but never outright create, so time to change that. I showed up the next day and he told me the four dollars per hour. Starting from a blank page, we went through drawing the design in pencil, how and why we made each design and what they symbolized. After the first two hours, I had a fully outlined design. Then he taught me about painting the design, and why certain colors were chosen for certain places. Painting takes forever, and I am not a patient man. As I colored in each intricate part, all I could think was how long this was taking and how much it was costing me. A friend who had also done the class told me it took her one and a half hours. Halfway through painting, I was at three hours. For the duration of the painting portion, I was sitting alone painting because there wasn’t much to tell me, so I was paying for someone to sit next to me. Oh well, still less than it would have been in America. I took my finish design and went home to relax. My legs were dead from sitting cross legged for four hours.

The first two nights, I spent relaxing, writing the blog and checking out the local cafes to hang out with dogs and drink chai. The third day, I headed into McLeodanj to register for a teaching with the Dalai Lama that would be happening while I was in town. I was actually supposd to go to Agra the night before, but I figured seeing the Dalai Lama was a better experience than seeing the Taj Mahal, so I decided to stay. Later that night, Ana and I took a cooking class, where I took the reins on what we would be cooking. I chose my three favorite dishes since I have been here: Malai Kofta, Dal Makhani and Bhagsu cake. Malai Kofta is a creamy, lighter sauce covering kofta, which is grated potato, carrot and paneer fried into cigar shapes. Dal Makhani is a similar sauce but not as creamy, which is filled with dal, which is black beans and lentils. Bhagsu cake is just butter. It’s actually a base of crushed cookies mixed with butter, a layer of condensed milk (MilkMaid) mixed with butter, and melted dark chocolate…mixed with butter. We were able to make all three things in under an hour and then eat ourselves into a state that one should not walk up a mountain to get home in. Add one more qualification for World Chef Sam Massari.

I Just Need Some Fresh Air

Following this, we hit some cafes to hang out and work on things. I say some cafes, because power outages are so common in India that every time we would get settled in one, they would lose power and we would hop to the next one that had internet. Due to this hopping around, and probably vegetarian food being the devil, I got a bit of food poisoning. This is also a common occurrence in India, no one even bats an eye when you tell them. I woke up and my stomach disagreed with the day’s plan of hiking, but I am the boss and my body listens, or it stops getting ice cream, so the hike continued.

It was Ana’s last full day, so she opted to go to the big, local waterfall over the more popular Triund hike to the Himalayas. The hike was through a trail that was mostly rocks and was very up and down. After over an hour of hiking, we reached a waterfall that I wouldn’t call big, even by Cleveland standards. The water was directly from the Himalayas, so it was crystal clear and ice cold, which was refreshing. A local dog guided us back and we decided to do the Triund hike even though it was about 1pm. Google stated it was only a two hour hike. When we got to the head of the trail, a man told us we had to come tomorrow, that he was with the police and that the hike takes three to four hours each way. Oh, well.

I woke up the next day sick again, but this time and a very loud snoring roommate. He was snoring when I fell asleep, and snoring when I woke up six hours later. If you snore this loud, probably don’t stay in hostels. If nothing else though, it was a good motivator to get up and go hike.

I did some research and everything said the hike took three to four hours. With my background, researching hikes while travel is always a bit useless, as you have no idea what someone’s physical ability is when they tell you how long a hike took them, even if they state they are “an experience trekker”. Ana agreed to wake up at 8am and attempt the hike, agreeing to go back on her own if we were not close after two hours.

The trail was at an incline the entire time, wrapping around the mountains. It was actually a pleasant trail for the first three kilometers, which took under an hour. The remaining two kilometers were a bit more treacherous, but I told Ana the best secret Spartans taught me. You’re going to be tired and sore either way, if you take a break, you get to experience that several times. If you push through, you just have to be tired and sore one time, and somewhere that you can actually relax. We came up over the ridge in under an hour and a half to a beautiful view of the Himalayas.

After the hike, laying in the cool, mountain air was the most peaceful thing I could think of. Alone, besides some campers and the shop owners. I grabbed some Oreos to snack on while enjoying the view, because duh. The other side of the ridge gave a view of what looked like the entirety of India. It is standard to enjoy some instant noodles at the top of the hike, so we made sure to do that before heading down. We spent two hours at the top, so it was definitely worth the hike. The way down took about as long as the way up, as the rocks made it difficult to head down quickly.

Ana left, so I helped carry her stuff to the bus station. Since I was in town anyways, I checked some shops for a radio, because I had been told that I would need one to listen to translations at the Dalai Lama. The first shop I entered offered me one for thirty American dollars. I left out loud. I wouldn’t have paid thirty dollars for a radio when radios were useful. I shopped around a bit and ended up finding one for six dollars. Two other friends would be in town for the teaching, so I told them they could use my headphone splitters and share my radio. After this, I hid in a cafe and drank Chai and wrote code like the good little travel nerd I am.

The Main Attraction

I returned home to find I had another roommate. Snoring roommate was awake when I got home, but asleep by the time I got out of the shower. Today, his snoring was so loud that I couldn’t hear the Netflix show I was watching. I assumed new roommate would have something to say, but fell asleep immediately. I waited about an hour, in hopes that the snoring would reduce or stop, but it didn’t, so I had to get up and shake the guy to get him to stop. It worked. After about fifteen minutes, the snoring continued, but this time, new roommate was also snoring. The absolute worst. I had had zero loud snoring roommates this whole trip, and now I had two, one being the worst I had ever heard. As if someone checked the stats and saw that life forgot to give me snoring roommates and needed to even things out. I practiced some meditaton techniques and fell asleep. I woke up to even more loud snoring. Full of rage, I looked up to see it was not loud snoring roommate, it was new roommate. Just the worst, I grabbed all of my stuff and headed off to see the Dalai Lama.

There were a couple thousand people in attendance for the teaching, which was requested by Russian monks. Due to this, the Dalai Lama spoke in Tibetan, and then it was translated to Russian before being translated to other languages. I should have spent more time learning Russian. Using a radio was a brutal experience, between feedback and the signal cutting in and out, I remembered why we don’t use radios anymore. Not to mention that he would speak, then it would be translated, then translated again, so there were about five minute windows between when you would receive information in the language you actually understood. Regardless, it was cool to have seen the Dalai Lama. His voice was so calm and steady that it was almost like guided meditation. He only spoke for the first hour and a half of the scheduled four hours, so we left shortly after the next Lama began speaking.

From Peace To Chaos

I hung out around the city and got things together. The hostel asked me to do a small Instagram commercial for them, which I agreed to, even though I look a bit homeless as a mountain yogi. After that, I grabbed my things and headed to another bus, this time from Dharamshala to Delhi. This bus was significantly nicer. Usually, transportation in Asia states it will have power outlets and wifi, but they never do. This one wasn’t lying. The seats were also semi sleepers, meaning the legs reclined up as well. I had no neighbor, so I was able to spread out and get comfortable.

Some people have seen from my snapchat, but I sleep four to six hours a night, with three to four of those hours being deep sleep. On transportation, I can sleep for an hour at most. On this bus, I slept for eight hours of the twelve hour ride. It was amazing. I read for a bit and a listened to a podcast before falling asleep. A bit more reading after waking up and I was there. It was as great as I always suspected.

Upon entering Delhi, I expected to get blasted by a tuk tuk driver. Luckily, I was using Google Maps to make sure he was going the right way and was able to say something when he headed the wrong direction. We established that he was confused about where I was going. He took me to the right place and then tried to get me to pay him more because he drove the wrong way. We both laughed and I left.

The hostel stated it was in an upscale cafe district of Delhi, but I never found that area. The hostel was definitely geared towards Indian locals, which is impossible to tell from the HostelWorld posting, but I just needed to sleep there before my flight. I had no interest in doing any tourist things in Delhi, as it was over one hundred degrees and I am a bit over tourist things. It’s unfortunate that this is my final full day in Asia and I am in a hot, big city, but oh well.

I arrived five hours before the hostel check in, so I put my bags down and did some yoga on the rooftop before doing some yoga and eating some breakfast. After this, I roamed around to find an ATM. ATMs in India seem to be pretty hit or miss, so it usually takes about three before finding a working one. It was 10am and already too hot to be walking around.

Same Person, Different Timezone

I went back to figure out my taxi situation and see if there was a movie theater close. I agreed to wait to see Endgame until I got home to see it with my dad, so I haven’t seen one recently since India doesn’t play as many English movies as Thailand and Vietnam did. I found a fancy nearby mall playing the new Detective Pikachu movie, so I decided to venture there and get a ticket. The movie wasn’t for seven hours but most things in India require an Indian phone number to book, so I decided to do it in person. Upon arriving at the mall, I found it was way fancier than I expected.

By this, I mean it was the fanciest mall I have ever seen. This is a harsh contrast to the fact that just outside on all sides are standard Indian streets. Random street stalls, garbage and stray dogs included. The mall was exclusively stores like Rolex and high tier fashion stores. I figured I could grab a ticket and sit in an air conditioned cafe for the next six hours, but the place was too fancy to just have a cafe and all of the surrounding places were open air restaurants. My plans were hosed.

I walked around for a bit before finding a small restaurant for lunch. I grabbed some chicken chowmein, which I was mad about paying too much for. When it came out, it was the size of my head and delicious, so I took back my anger. After the food, I sat around for a bit before venturing around to see if I could find a cafe. No luck, I headed into the mall to check out the restaurant that covered the whole first floor. It was a bit more open than I cared for but I figured I could just sit there and read. I got the menu and the regular cup of coffee was five dollars, ten times what a cup of coffee costs anywhere in India. I walked downstairs and found a giant food hall that had every type of cuisine imaginable, sweets and groceries. I sat down, ordered a scoop of ice cream(which was five times the price of ice cream anywhere else) and read for a bit before getting bored of how crowded the place was.

Again, I ventured out and found a small bakery. No wifi, no AC, but they were charging prices like they were still in the upscale mall. I grabbed a donut and wrote the majority of this post (oh, meta), before taking a walk around the park just north of the mall. The park didn’t have anywhere shaded to hide so I found another small restaurant with a fan and read a book while I waited for my movie time.

I entered the fancy movie theater and chuckled at the fact that my movie ticket was four dollars and a regular drink and popcorn was almost ten. Oh well, I grabbed some and headed for my movie. I have seen hundreds of movies over the years, so I have a pretty good grasp on how many trailers a place will play based on how nice the theater is and where it is. India threw me for a loop, they didn’t even let anyone in before the start time. Then they played about twenty minutes of trailers, standard for a big movie theater. Similar to Thailand, prior to the movie, everyone stood for the national anthem. At the start of the movie, a message came across stating that they was a point planned when it seemed best for an intermission. An intermission…in a movie that was less than two hours. I thought maybe they would plan it for the end of a scene but they must have just picked the very center part of the film. The movie stopped while a character was in the middle of a word. The lights came on and everyone rushed out for more snacks, even though you could order snacks inside the theater and it was only two hours. Twenty minutes later, the movie begun. If you’re keeping track, that’s forty minutes of non movie time for a movie that is less than two hours. Good movie, time to grab a tuk tuk home.

Following the movie, I contemplated heading to a night market, but decided to just go home and make sure everything was in order before leaving Asia for Europe in the morning. No tuk tuks outside of the theater, I realized it was my last night in Asia. My favorite thing to do is walk around cities at night, so I decided to walk home. Delhi is much cooler at night anyways, so I enjoyed my walk home. I got everything together and went to sleep in my bed that the air conditioning barely touched. I woke up hours before I needed to so I did some more yoga on the roof.

It feels good to only write a post covering a week again, so this is the end. Expect weekly posts again with me making my way through Europe over the next month before hitting New York for the AVP NYC Open!