October 25th:      Arriving in Delhi bus station was much like arriving in Lahore, Pakistan—the crush of humanity, the spicy fragrances, and the awful smells were overwhelming.  Additionally, it seemed like everyone was trying to constantly get my attention so they could help me find a hotel or food or a tour or whatever I wanted.  Other travelers highly recommended the Ringo Guest House which was centrally located in Connaught Square and offered charpois (a cot with a woven rope “mattress”) for 10 rupees.   Figuring out public transit and walking directions took a while—each new metropolitan area takes some time and energy to figure out especially when you are solo.  After checking into the Ringo Guest House, I was taken up the flights of stairs through the Scindia House hotel on the lower levels to the rooftop which had an area partially covered with a fabric roof and there were various sized dormitory areas of charpois somewhat separated by curtains.  The front of the dormitory areas was open to the rest of the roof which was a gathering area where all the guests hung-out. You picked a charpoi and staked your claim by leaving a pack or some clothing on top of it though nothing was secure. 

I quickly made friends with young travelers from all over—especially European, Australian, and New Zealanders.  Open areas of the roof were gathering areas where people with guitars played and folks gathered to sing or talk or just hangout.  I quickly got a lot of practical information about places to eat, tips on transportation to various tourist destinations including Nepal, and we swapped stories about our travels thus far.

It turns out that Delhi was a bigger madhouse at that time than normal—I unintentionally ended up arriving during a peak day of the major Hindu holiday of Diwali—the festival of light.   The festival celebrates the victory of light over darkness, good over evil and knowledge over ignorance.  It is celebrated by Hindus, Sikhs, Jainists, and Buddhists and lasts for five days.  There were decorations everywhere and fireworks frequently exploded adding choking smoke to the normal air pollution, and rivers of people swarmed through the streets of Delhi handing each other sweets as they danced and celebrated.  Diwali was amazing but Diwali on top of the normal mass of humanity in the center of Delhi was simply too much.  Most of us found that we could only venture out briefly due to the crowds and chaos.  Trying to make ones way to see the “sights of Delhi” was impractical.  Food options were very crowded.   We had a great birds-eye view of a large area of central Delhi from the rooftop dormitory—we could look over the walls of the rooftop and see the celebration panorama below.  Consequently, many of us hung out on the roof quite a bit listening to a communal stereo (lots of Led Zeppelin and Bob Dylan). 

Hepatitis E Epidemic: I stayed on the roof of the Ringo Guest House a few days and had several memorable experiences.  One evening, a nice young guy from Switzerland had the charpoi next to mine.  He explained that he had just flown into Dehli from Zurich and planned to travel for a year on his savings after quitting a nice position at a Swiss bank.  He had so many plans.  The next morning, I noticed when he woke up that his eyes were very yellow and he said he felt terrible.  He headed off to an infirmary to get checked but came back a couple of hours latter and packed his gear.  He explained that he had been diagnosed with Hepatitis E of which there was an epidemic in Kashmir and India in 1978.  He said the doctors told him he could travel by air only for about 24 hours and then would have to undergo lengthy treatment under quarantine and not be able to travel.  He had opted to get a Swiss Air flight back to Switzerland that afternoon rather than convalesce in Delhi—his trip of a lifetime lasted one day!  His experience reconfirmed to me advice I had read about the Hippie Trail suggesting that western immune systems tend to adjust better to Asia when a traveler takes the slow overland route rather than flying directly from the relatively-sterile west into the relatively-filthy east.  I remained unusually healthy the entire trip, so my experience supported that advice.  Later in my work career and travels back to Asia, I did find that I and most other westerns get pretty sick around day two or three regardless of how careful one is in dining and beverage choices—there simply are a lot of foreign “bugs” that the western system has to adjust to in Asia. I believe that is especially true when you travel “on the cheap”. 

Unexpected Travel Companion: Another “rooftop experience” occurred in the middle of the night when I woke up to find a woman I didn’t know on top of me having her way with me even though we were surrounded by other sleeping travelers in their charpois.  She finished what she started and then went back to her cot that was a little ways from mine. The rooftop dormitory was pretty dark and the proximity of other charpois made any conversation impractical—it was all a bit awkward.   Next morning, I suggested she and I grab breakfast and I got to know N., a 22 year old Israeli who had finished her government service and was making her first trip to India before starting art school.  She mentioned that I had caught her eye the evening before even though we didn’t meet or talk.  For some reason, none of this seemed awkward for either one of us and we talked about our respective travel plans.  We each only had a couple of “must see” items on our lists for Delhi.  N. said she had a family contact with the manager of a famous wildlife refuge in the city of Bharatpur which was near Agra and I was welcome to go there with her where she said we could get a free room.  As I learned the night before, N. was pretty aggressive and quick to make decisions.  That was both irritating but also attractive as it really helped to be able to share decision-making with someone when in new places—especially insanely crowded Delhi during Diwali.  We visited a few sights together and separately took care of personal items like banking, picking up mail, and getting my visa for Nepal, etc.  Without any regret at all that I didn’t see more in Delhi, we caught a train to Bharatpur on October 30th and made our way to the wildlife sanctuary where her contact greeted us warmly and showed us to a complimentary room in at lodge. It was the nicest room with the most privacy and the nicest shower I enjoyed my entire trip.  Consequently, I let down my guard, relaxed, and we really enjoyed the lodge and refuge like we were on a resort holiday. This would have consequences later.

Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary

October 31 –November 1: We spent a day getting an orientation of the refuge from the manager and then decided where to focus our time.  Our timing was perfect as the massive winter migration of birds from northern Eurasia had begun. The large refuge has a complex water management plan since the area was used for centuries as a duck hunting retreat for the Mughals (rulers of southern India from 1526 to 1857).  The managers were able to control water levels in various ponds and the area was criss-crossed by dikes and canals.  The manager explained that there basically were two halves of the refuge—one half had king cobra snakes in abundance and the other half did not have cobras but had a lot of pythons.  Both sides had amazing amounts of storks pelicans, cormorants, kingfishers , herons and other huge birds.  I confessed that I was terrified by everything I knew about King Cobras and N. agreed that we should stay clear of that part of the refuge.  We spent hours walking through brush and along canals viewing the wildlife.  We also went to an area where the manager suggested we could find pythons and I located and took partial pictures of two of them—a 6 foot and an 11 foot.  Both were coiled up around bushes near their dens but one did move enough for us to realize how complex they are and that we really didn’t want to get to know them personally. 

Agra–Lost Passport & Valuables

Agra November 3:   We had a great rest in the comfortable bed and enjoyed long showers in the morning before packing and going to the rail station. We took a train from Bharatpur to Agra on November 3rd and hired a nice rickshaw from the train station to take us to the Taj Mahal. The trip through Agra was really fascinating with the highlight being the Red Fort. We saw the Red Fort from a distance and decided to come back to it after visiting the Taj Mahal.

The rickshaw finally let us out at the iconic gates to the Taj Mahal–we had a perfect view of the Taj across its reflecting pool and I focused my camera. At that moment, I happened to feel my side where I had kept my passport/money pouch sling under my arm for the past nine months–it was missing! It only took me a second to recall that I had taken it off the night before and put it under one of my pillows on the amazingly comfortable bed at the refuge lodge. I realized that I had forgotten to put it on after I showered and dressed that morning. I really panicked and neither took a picture nor entered the Taj beyond the gates. I decided it would be nearly impossible to call the lodge and, in any event, I would have to return to Bharatpur to try to retrieve my passport and valuables. N. and I said very quick goodbyes and I immediately took a rickshaw back to the Agra train station where I caught the next train to Bharatpur. I was lost in a spiral of worry all the way back to the refuge as my mind explored all the potential consequences of trying to replace my passport in India or trying to get replacement Traveler’s Cheques without having a passport. The refuge manager let me into our room which he said had already been cleaned by the housekeeping staff who didn’t report finding my passport/money belt pouch. I reached under a pillow and to my lasting joy and relief, my valuables pouch was right where I left it (meaning that the cleaning staff hadn’t cleaned the bed very thoroughly–I was so grateful). That experience was the final straw and I decided I was ready to get the Hell out of India as quickly as possible. I caught a train back to Delhi.  N. and I never communicated or saw each other after I left Agra. 

Back to Delhi then Patna and Kathmandu, Nepal

November 4-5: I stayed at the Ringo Guest House one night and bought a ticket on the “Toofan Express” (a famous mail train of the Indian Railway which was anything but an express) for a 16 hour train trip from Delhi to Patna. In a letter home, I noted: “Like everything else here, train travel is incomprehensible at best and downright insane most of the time.”