MONSOON WEDDING

After pampering ourselves, getting our hair done and enlisting the help of a hotel desk clerk in order to make sure that our saris were not going to unravel on the dance floor, we were ready for Rushmi and Vikram's wedding. It is hard work to try and keep up with these Indian women!
The ceremony started and almost immediately it started raining. It quickly turned into a real monsoon and we had to take cover in the pavilions in the gardens, Now that would have been enough to turn any bride into a "bridezilla",but Indians are cool and Rushmi basically turned around at dinner and said: "You were all talking about a monsoon wedding and here it is, we got it for you!" What a sport!
Our saris badly need to go to the cleaners now, but we danced until really late and drank sweet concoctions of guava juice and vodka while ogling the amazing combination of all the outfits and the incredible jewellery. Another thing we learned is that in India you cannot possibly be over the top so you can just pile it on: the clothes, the jewellery, the make-up...
The next day we slept until noon and then had a fabulous brunch at the Oberoi followed by shopping for kurtas and bangles in the commercial district of Bangalore and at the Garuda Mall which is now officially one of our favorite places in town. They even have an espresso bar called : Barista that makes excellent coffees of any kind. The people at the mall were looking at us with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief, like they could not quite figure out what were we doing there ( there are not too many tourists in Bangalore), but to us it was just a mall with Katy Perry blaring from the speakers and girls in skinny jeans....

Like a Pair of Maharanis!

Our wedding attire

Monsoon Wedding

Despite the fact that it is most definitely no longer the rainy season here in India, a light drizzle enveloped us as we drove up to the Tamarind Tree, an antique sculpture garden that served as the magical setting for Rushmi and Vikram's wedding. That light drizzle turned into an open faucet by the time the bride was walking down the aisle, and most of the wedding guests were forced to take shelter under a canopied area of banquet tables.

Thankfully for Rushmi, despite what Alanis Morissette defines as the ultimate irony, rain on one's wedding day is supposedly a good omen in Hinduism and in India [as it is in Italy, where the saying goes: sposa bagnata, sposa fortunata.]

By far the best part of the night was the bride's side versus groom's side dance-off. I am proud to report that Rushmi's side won overwhelmingly among all attendees and the DJ, after having to put together a last-minute dance number. Turns out the boys were not just calling our bluff: They actually DID choreograph a Bollywood-style dance routine to "Jai Ho!" from Slumdog Millionaire. We. Were. In. Shock. Thankfully, we are all clever girls who think quickly on our feet (literally) and someone had the brilliant idea to simply do the electric slide. Another girl requested it, and as the person there who had by far attended the most bar-mitzvahs, I was nominated to lead everyone in the notorious slide.

Of course, this being India and all, within moments "Electric Feel" by MGMT was blasting through the speakers. Curses. In any case, we persisted and persevered, and eventually the DJs declared us the obvious winners (I think it helped that we had the bride on our side.) I told Karina that there is way that I will ever be caught in this predicament again, and thus she should start choreographing a dance for my wedding immediately.

Another highlight for sure was dancing and singing along to "Empire State of Mind" as the closing song, around 2:30 a.m. There we all were in Bangalore, having flown in from cities as far-flung as New York, LA, Seattle, Tel Aviv, Shangai, even Addis Ababa, breaking it down to Jay-Z and Alicia Keyes, singing our hearts out to the City That Never Sleeps (um, paging Tom Friedman...)

All in all, despite the rain and the lack of a white horse, it was a beautiful wedding that I am sure all those fortunate enough to have attended will remember fondly for years to come. Congratulations, Rushmi and Vikram!

Mehndi Mania

Yesterday afternoon, we arrived in Bangalore and headed straight to Shiro Lounge for Rushmi's mehndi ceremony. In true Rushmi fashion, the Indian pre-wedding tradition was performed at an Asian-fusion bar/lounge with hard-core rap playing in the background. (Her brother: "Thank god my grandparents can't understand these lyrics.")

We enjoyed catching up with friends, meeting Rushmi and Vikram's families, and sitting to have our hands adorned with gorgeous henna designs. The artists use a little packet of henna that looks like a decorative cake frosting applicator. The henna goes on like puff paint, and as it dries it forms a dark brown crust that molts off, leaving the dyed pattern behind on your skin. Depending on how long you leave it on, (and how long you resist the temptation to pick at the crust--it's like a scab!) the color can range from an orangey tone to a deep red rust color.

Pink Is the Navy Blue of India

Ok I did see a snake today…it was a cobra in a basket at the Amber Palace in Jaipur. I tried to stay as far as possible from it while Peaches was happily taking pictures of it. Altogether a non-event….

We shopped for teas and spices today while yesterday Peaches found the sari for the wedding in Bangalore that she needed, it’s peacock blue and very beautiful. I, on the other hand, decided to go for a kurta tunic with pants in pink with beads and little mirrors, I know it sounds hideous and gaudy, but I swear it isn’t and it is one of those things that will be great to wear in the summers and in Jamaica. One cannot come to India and not buy something pink!

Jaipur is the Pink City, beautiful and interesting. It has an ancient capital, Amber, with a fort that you reach on an elephant and the maharajah’s palace in the old city with also great history and wonderful architecture. I got to ride an elephant for the first time in my life, not a particularly comfortable ride, but certainly a fun one!

At our hotel we made friends with a lovely Southern American couple from Atlanta, Michael and Bo-peep, yes, you read correctly, her name, or at least the one she goes by, really is Bo-peep! They are absolutely adorable in a very Southern, charming sort of way, they have been everywhere and they obviously love to live well and have fun. We exchanged addresses and emails and promised to see each other again ,which is something I definitely see happening.

Tomorrow I hope it will be the last of our really early morning rises, we need to get to Bangalore in time for the Mehendi ceremony, so we’ll try and sleep some on the 3 hour flight and maybe catch up later but I still think a 6.00 am flight is totally uncivilized!

Rushmi & Vikram's Wedding is in Two Days!

The countdown begins. Tomorrow we wake at the ungodly hour of 4:00 a.m. to make our early morning flight to Bangalore. Rushmi’s mehendi ceremony will take place tomorrow afternoon; The wedding is the following afternoon, and a reception will take place on the 28th. I have been looking forward to this wedding for so long that I can hardly believe we are almost there!

Sightseeing today in Jaipur was another walking tour of fantastic fortresses and palaces, courtyards and arches, carvings and frescos. The variety in construction materials, architectural style and decorative technique across Rajasthan is quite incredible. One palace is more beautiful than the next, and each and every one seems special in its own way and unique for some reason. The mirrored and carved ceilings at the Amber Fort today were absolutely breathtaking.





Also, I got to ride an elephant for the third time in my life, and that's always a fun thing to do, albeit not exactly the most comfortable way to travel. I love how they paint the elephants faces and trunks. The attention to detail and the appreciation of aesthetics in India is really quite incredible. Every inch of every rickshaw or freight truck or even camel is decorated or adorned.


Not gonna lie, I’m a little bummed to be leaving our “luxury tent” here in Jaipur, but seeing as this trip just keeps getting better and better, and the wedding events begin tomorrow, I am sure we still have lots more to look forward to.

See you in Bangalore!

Merry Christmas from Jaipur, Rajasthan

Us in our Christmas Eve attire!

LIVE LIKE OCTOPUSSY

You have not experience service until you come to India. Everything that you have had before pales in comparison, I thought I had an excellent level of service in Jamaica, but it's nothing compared to this...I mean someone who follows you all the time in a hotel just to make sure you do not trip on the steps, that kind of care!
It is almost a week since we've been in India and I am happy to report that our bowels have not at all rebelled in any way, the food seems to absolutely agree with our stomachs and certainly with our palate. The variety of dishes is unbelievable and one more delicious than the other, whether meat or vegetarian. This morning, at breakfast, I was even talked into trying some concoction of carrot and beet juice and everyone who knows me knows my complete and utter aversion to beets! At this point everything is so freaking perfect that Peaches and I are tempted to try and live dangerously: brush our teeth with tap water...try a salad ( actually this we already did because in Ranthambore we had probably the best fresh arugula I've ever had)...eat from a street vendor....leave home our Purell,.. touch an Untouchable...something like that!
Tonight we had dinner, and what a dinner... at the Lake Palace in the middle of Lake Pichola in Udaipur, the setting for James Bond's "Octopussy",,,remember when he gets into the fake crocodile in his tux and he crosses the lake to go and surprise Maud Adams in her secluded palace...well it certainly exceeded expectations, both the dinner and the visit to Octopussy's lair, unbelievably beautiful and they make you feel treated like a Maharani!
I have not mentioned that we are staying in another palace: Devi Garh, somewhat of a fortress perched on a hill and one of the most exquisite hotels I have ever been to ( shades of Castello del Nero!). One thing that Devi Garh does not lack is marble, this area is full of it and they make good use of it in the palaces. Our bed is actually a big slab of Carrara -white marble with a mattress on it!
Udaipur, the white city...with all this whilte marble, easy to understand.

DO NOT Make Eye Contact With the Squirrels!

"Feeeeeeeeeeed me!"

Apparently, Rajasthan is home to the most gregarious squirrels I have ever met, and I have met some pretty gregarious squirrels in my day. (Those surrounding the Capitol in Washington, DC come to mind; In fact, one bit one of my interns once. I immediately sent her to the Senate Nurse out of fear she would contract rabies, but it turns out that squirrels can't carry rabies--You learn something new every day.)

As we enjoyed a leisurely lunch at Maharani Bagh in Ranakpur, we were practically assaulted by about a dozen squirrels in search of a snack. Not only are they completely unafraid of humans, but if you make eve contact with them, they will come right up to you and beg for food. They are utterly shameless. Seriously, my dog doesn't even do that! One basically jumped into Bobo's purse and had to be shooed away; Another climbed on my back as I attempted to photograph its brethren. (Again, I'm really glad they don't transmit rabies. I hope they are also incapable of transmitting leptospirosis.)

"You must be joking! Double-Oh-Seven on an island populated exclusively by women?! We won't see him until dawn!"

I'd like to be / In the middle of a man-made lake / in the Octopussy Garden, late at night

Me Tarzan, You Jain

En route to Udaipur from Jodphur, we stopped at Ranakpur Jain Temple, one of the most spectacular Jain worship houses in all of India, and probably one of the most beautiful temples I have ever seen, period.



The temple features over 1,000 intricately carved marble columns, and no two are alike.



Construction began on the temple over 600 years ago, and at that time, the seed for this tree was planted, and the temple constructed around it.



Followers of Jainism, a dharmic religion with roots in India, believe in a path of non-violence for all living creatures. India is currently home to approximately 5 million followers of the religion.

I'M IN TEXTILE PARADISE

Jodhpur is a rose-colored and periwinkle blue dream. The houses, the fort, the Maharajah's Palace... very beautiful and when seen from the great height of the hill, peaceful and majestic. Of course in the bowels of the market is another story, and it reminds me a lot of the market in Jerusalem, particularly in the smells of spices and other stuff. Like for example the copious amount of manure that animals, and here over all the cows, leave on the streets. It was quite hilarious seeing a man really "step in it" because he was pushing a cart and could not see the poop and wanting to let out a colorful Hindi curse, but restrain himself from doing it because, after all, it was holy cow poop!
In the heart of the market there is a shop that looks very nondescript from the street but inside it's six floors of textile paradise. The most amazing fabrics are here on sale at a fraction of what one would find in Europe or the States. Cashmere throws, silk bedspreads, fabrics in all kind of jewel colors...amazing! After what seemed no time Peaches and I looked at our watches and we had spent two hours in the shop aided by a great owner who even spoke some Italian because he does business with all the biggest designers and his trusty assistant, a good looking young guy who seemed to derive great pleasure in draping himself in fabrics and scarves to show them to us. He actually showed us a great new way ro tie our cashmere scarf to our necks.
We left slightly shellshocked and dazzled after having singlehandedly revived Jodhpur's economy for the next quarter!
Now when we get back to NYC and our package arrives we will really celebrate Christmas!

Forts and Palaces and Open Sewers, Oh My!

If you're never had the pleasure of a casual stroll beside an open sewer, I can assure you it is an experience. Quite the contrast to the grandeur we saw visiting the palaces, fortresses and palaces of the maharajahs, but then again India really is a land of contradiction, if not complete and utter oxymoron.

Today we enjoyed the cultural sights of Jodphur, particularly the Mehrangarh (maharajah's fort) and the Jaswant Thada crematorium. The fort is a spectacular pink sandstone structure with room upon room and exhibit upon exhibit, in addition to gorgeous views of Jodphur.

One of my favorite moments of the day was stepping out of my shoes and stepping into the temple area of the Mehrangarh, because for a minute or two, Bobo and I were the only people around. In a country of over a billion, I have discovered that is it next to impossible to find yourself un-surrounded by dozens of people most anywhere you go. Thus far, that is what has struck me the most about India: the sheer number of people.

After a leisurely lunch, we enjoyed a walk through the bazaar and marketplace of the Old City, where we spent hours looking at some of the amazing textiles that serve as the backbone of the local economy. Jodphur is the nexus between many European fashion houses and local mills and craftsmen. I have never seen so many gorgeous pashminas, cashmere blankets, and applique, filigree, or embroidered textiles.

After we realized we had spent a good part of two hours looking at fabrics, we scampered back to the hotel to freshen up for dinner at the maharajah's palace. Partially made into a luxurious hotel/resort, the beautiful structure is still the home of the current Former Maharajah* and his family, albeit they are confined to only one wing of the massive palace. Imagine if the Queen of England were stuck in one area of Buckingham Palace and the rest opened up as a hotel. Sort of a strange concept in theory and yet, in practice it seems to work just fine. Bobo has already decided to try to marry me off to the Prince of Jodphur, the next Former Maharajah.* I think she is still disappointed that my semester abroad in the UK did not result in my becoming some kind of minor European royalty at the very least, future Princess of Wales/Queen of England at best.

I'm really glad we came to Jodphur. It seems as though many tourists skip it in favor of the Delhi/Agra/Jaipur/Udaipur circuit, but I've found it to be beautiful and interesting, and I can't wait to compare it to the other cities of Rajasthan over the next four days.

More tomorrow from Udaipur, "The Venice of India" . . .

*In 1972, Indira Gandhi amended India's constitution to essentially strip the maharajahs of their titles. Gone were their lands and tax exemptions. Fascinatingly, they officially must be referred to as "Former Maharajahs," so that's actually what it says on their business cards. As a result, they have had to find ways to (gasp!) actually support themselves and the way of life to which they have grown accustomed over the last few centuries. One method: open up your palace to tourism. Voila!

Sunrise in Old Jodphur, "The Blue City"

The Long, Long, Long Road to Jodphur

The morning started with our last game drive at Ranthambore, no tigers this time, but we saw wild boar, antelopes, deer and tons of monkeys. The lack of tiger sighting was also due to the fact that people were allowed to enter the reserve on foot (actually they were all barefoot) for the fourth day after the new moon for the festival of Ganesh. Lots of Indians scampering around the park are not conducive to tigers’ outings.

After leaving, alas not without saying goodbye to our lovely tent, we boarded our minivan, very comfortable, but it was going to be our prison for the next nine hours….
We found out that the Indian style of driving is similar to the one in Naples, basically honk your horn at anything that moves: honk at men, women and children, honk at cows, honk at the ubiquitous not so wild pigs, honk at motorcycles, honk at cows, honk at trucks, honk at cars and, did I mention, honk at cows?

The villages we passed before passing Jaipur where your typical run of the mill, Sunday in any village: the men all out sitting around in bars, the women hardly anywhere to be seen. One interesting thing is though that the Indians refuse to live their lives unadorned , from the fronts of their trucks to the butts of their camels everything is painted, tasseled, bedazzled and even the poorest women in the smallest villages wear the most amazing saris with the most beautiful colors and with nose piercings, bangles on their arms, and beaded, painted, mirrored fabrics.

We finally arrived in Jodhpur in time for a late dinner and our hotel called Raas is absolutely amazing….more to come.

Highlights On the Road to Jodphur

1. Mustard fields as far as the eye can see. Seriously, they must grow the entire world's supply of mustard in Rajasthan. It's bright, practically neon yellow for miles and miles.

2. A camel parked by a gas pump. Two guys were filling up a large gas can resting on a cart being pulled by the camel, but it still appeared as though they were gassing up their camel and it looked amazing. Wish I had been able to snag a photo in time.

3. Wild dogs, eating at a cow carcass. Yummy.

4. "Ramakrishna Women's Teachers' College." [NB: The surname of my friend getting married.]

5. Goats on the highway. On an actual toll road, six lanes across, honest to god highway. And Bobo wonders how it could possible take ten hours to drive 550 km...

Tiger Beat

Yes we did see our tiger at Ranthambore and it was a mighty sight! After a long wait, apparently tigers like to show around 4.30 pm for tea, a beautiful specimen of the family of the Lake appeared. She was no more than 20/30 yards from us in the open jeep so it was awesome and a little weird. Apparently we were making Split’s acquaintance, a young female whose mother’s, the original tiger of the Lake, is now at the ripe old age of 16 after having laid at least five litters of cubs. Unfortunately we were told that poachers still manage to enter the reserve and sometimes they kill the tigers to sell them to the Chinese (damn the Chinese they really are evil!) who use all of them from the teeth to the nails, to the fur to their organs used for their medicine.

In any case the tigers are managing to repopulate and now there are between 35 and 40 and more cubs will be born soon. Our Split almost let us watch kill a deer, in reality she truly was not interested in us but she was fixated on four deer very close by. As soon as the deer though became aware of her presence (apparently they have poor eyesight and they need to smell the tiger) they made a really strange sound, they warning call and at that point our tiger, spotted, looked really pissed off and walked way growling. I suggested we tossed a baby ,who in another nearby jeep had started waling and disturbing the whole awesome moment, to the tiger to compensate for the escaped deer. It was an Indian baby, there are so many anyway…..

What Do Tigers Dream of When They Take Their Little Tiger Snooze?

Mauling zebras? Halle Berry in the Catwoman suit? We were one step closer to answering this question today. Yep, that's right. We. Saw. A. #%$@ing. TIGER!!

And it was GORGEOUS. Seriously, one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen. We nearly saw it make a kill, too, but then the herd of deer noticed it, sounded alarm call, and the tiger sulked off growling. WE COULD HEAR IT GROWL! I'm telling you, it was awesome. It was probably only about 50 feet away from us.

Tigers are extremely rare in the wild, bordering on extinct. It is thought that there are fewer than 3,200 left on earth. Supposedly, India is probably the best place to see them, and from what I understand Ranthambore National Park is one of the best places in India. That being said, there are only approximately 30 tigers that roam the area of the park open to tourists (approximately 125 square kilometers) and tigers are nocturnal, solitary, territorial animals, so each tiger will command its own area and rarely leave it. Thus, seeing a tiger today was far from a sure bet.

Furthermore, there were late, post-monsoon season rains in this part of India, which means the grass, trees, and brush are thicker and greener than is normal for this time of year, which makes it difficult to see the cats when they are lounging around during the day, as they tend to do. I still can hardly believe we got as good a view as we did! Jusuf was correct: seeing a tiger is an almost emotional experience. Maybe it's just an instinctive adrenaline high one gets from being so close to such a giant predator, but it was seriously so cool.

You can find more information on tiger conservation here.

*Oh, also, we saw monkeys, crocodiles, peacocks, deer, antelope and other things I would have tried to make sound reeeeeally cool in the absence of seeing a tiger, but now that we saw one, who really cares about the other dudes? :)

Let me introduce myself......

I will be posting blogs with my travel companion Peaches Park and I guess you know how this "porn name" stuff works so that is the reason for something as unsavoury as " Bobo Lomellina".
It has to do with my first pet, a rabbit, and a street in Milan...so go figure!

Camp, Rajasthani Style

Evenings at SherBagh are delightfully tranquil. After teatime in the library, there is ample time to relax and freshen up before campfire begins around 7:00 p.m. We enjoyed cocktails by the bonfire, followed by traditional North Indian fare in the company of trusty Jusuf as well as the six other guests at the campsite: a family from Kent, England with two tweenagers, and an American couple living in London.

Sadly for us, no tigers made an appearance at dinnertime. Apparently, although unusual, it isn’t completely unheard of for them to wander through camp. I also learned that if you are being charged at by a tiger, you must under no circumstances run, or you are sure to become lunch. If you spot a tree nearby, your best bet is to sprint to it and haul yourself up to the highest branch you can climb. Tigers do not climb trees. I will file this under my growing repertoire of animal defense techniques (such as punching a shark in the gills, running in zigzags to escape a crocodile, and curling up fetal position if being attacked by a bear.) Jusuf claims to have been charged at by both a leopard and a tiger on two separate occasions. I might hear the full stories of both these incidents.

Operation Rescue Lizard

After a five hour train ride that involved sitting up in a sleeper berth too short for people of our height, we finally arrived at Sawai Madhopur, our gateway to exploring Ranthambore National Park. Representatives from the SherBagh met us at the rail station in a swank open-air jeep and drove us to a luxury tent camp bordering the national park. This. Place. Is. Awesome.

Our canvas roofed tent has running hot and cold water, lovely sisal rugs, and mosquito netting. It also had a tiny visitor waiting to welcome us: a pink lizard in the toilet. Once I saw the little dude was definitely alive and kicking, I couldn’t bear to flush it, so mom and I searched our tent for an appropriate lizard removal device, and settled on a water glass. I was able to scoop our friend out of the toilet bowl, but he lost his tail in the process. I released him outside, and after a moment of shock, he scampered off. I’m pretty sure his tail will regenerate, so I don’t think I’m premature in calling Operation Rescue Lizard a success.

While cool with lizards, mom is decidedly not cool with their reptilian brethren the snake. We were assured that the most harmful, poisonous ones are already hibernating for the winter, but that was little comfort for mother, who cannot bear the sight of them. I’m already wishing I had brought along one of those fake rubber ones; Then again, that’d be a fast way to be disowned.

Also worth noting is the presence of our Aide de Camp/Host/Concierge/SherBagh factotum, Yusuf. He is the man. Not only does he speak in the most perfect British English you have ever heard, but he also rocks a serious handlebar mustache which he twists at the edges as a nervous habit.

Ranthambore is home to crocodiles, sloth bears, hyenas, leopards, and--of most interest to me--TIGERS. I read in the guest book that a family leaving today saw not one but two great cats while out on jeep safari, so I’m hoping we have similar luck between tomorrow and the following morning. I brought a tiger leash because I’m all about being prepared.

Day 1 Arrival in Delhi and...the train...

The fourteen hours on the plane actually went very fast, It was as if we boarded on Wednesday evening and when we arrived in Delhi even though it was a whole day later it seemed to us like it was still the same night. As a result of it and because we slept quite a bit on the plane we did not mind going to be at almost 1 am and waking up at 6 am in order to catch our train. The Imperial Hotel in Delhi is a true triumph of the Raj, gorgeous, marble everywhere, incredibly beautiful and comfortable!
The rude awakening comes with the train to Ranthambore, a train that makes the worst Italian train seem luxurious…I wish we could see more from the windows, but , on the other hand, it may be a blessing in disguise. The little I see is huts, cows, buffaloes, open sewers and of course people….
Can’t help thinking that Jimmy would have already run away…screaming.…I just hope I can manage NOT to go to the bathroom until we arrive at destination! That is a must even though as my usual hypochondriac self I have brought seat covers for the toilet…ha ha ha…..

En Route to Rajasthan

Boarding our train early this morning at the Delhi rail station really was like a scene out of The Darjeeling Limited. Lucky for us, our tour operated-arranged driver negotiated a baggage-lugging price with three porters (he called them coolies, but that just seems wrong to me) and before we knew it, the three men had our suitcases atop their heads and were marching single file towards our train car.

Although we are on this train for a mere four hours, it turns out this train continues south through the states of Rajasthan and Gujarat, all the way to Mumbai--a 24 hour train ride from Delhi. Hence, the sleeper berths we are currently using as seats. Not the most comfortable way to travel, but I’m not complaining. Actually, my only complaint thus far is that the train windows are far too small and dirty to see much as we travel, but perhaps we will have better luck on our next train trip to Jaipur,

I’d like to note at this time that until moments ago, someone was blasting Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” through external speakers, and the teenage girl sitting opposite me is reading Twilight.

Peaches Is Back!

Hello, friends! Your girl Peaches in back in Asia and back online, blogging away as I tour the land of a billion people with a **new** partner in crime (to be introduced to you shortly.) We landed in Delhi this evening, a city that holds the dubious distinction of being the most polluted world capital. Fabulous. Our lungs will thank us for leaving early tomorrow morning by train for Ranthambore, where we will stay on a tiger preserve. Fret not, I brought only cinnamon; No pepper. And let's hope our train doesn't get lost. I will warn you now that this is only the first of many references to my second favorite Wes Anderson film and the tiger-in-the-bathroom scene from The Hangover, so you might consider rewatching both now.

Take the Long Way Home

Here we are back in Hong Kong. We are all already having pangs of separation anxiety. I'm not entirely sure what I'll do when I'm not sleeping a mere few feet away from the boys. What if I need to pee in the middle of the night and Sneaky isn't there with his flashlight? How much will I spend FedExing the Fat Kid Belt to Chicago every few days? The answers to many questions are still unclear, but one thing is for sure: it has been an incredible five weeks.

We saw the sun rise over Angkor Wat, climbed the tallest mountain in Vietnam, overnighted in a Laotian village with no electricity or running water, and partied all night on the beach at the Full Moon Party and under a jungle canopy at the Half Moon Party.

I have countless stories to tell, but most of them are much better told in person. So for now, I'll sign off and thank you all for following the crazy adventure this journey has been.

xx, Peaches

Paradise Found: Tong Nai Pan Beach

Fat Kids Don't Share

I haven’t been going a great job of keeping you updated on my Fat Kid exploits, so let’s just summarize by saying that Thailand has brought us to new highs. The reason for this is twofold: first of all, our breakfast is included, and despite it being a truly mediocre breakfast buffet, we certainly make the most of it.

Fritz is an animal at the daily breakfast buffet here at our resort on Tong Nai Pan beach; He piles three fried eggs, some toast, bacon, marmalade, hot sauce, and at least four or five mini croissants on his plate and then mashes it up together. I prefer to start with some fresh fruit, ease into my fried eggs on toast with cheese, and then follow it up with either a pancake or my own little bread basket of banana cake, mini croissants, and sponge cake.

Secondly, we have discovered the best bar/restaurant of the entire trip: it’s called Flip Flop Pharmacy, and in addition to offering a pool table, free wifi, great drinks, and a fantastic right-on-the-beach location, they have the. Best. Food. The chef, Pong, is Burmese. In addition to the fantastic Thai offerings (typical noodles, curries, fried rice, spring rolls, what have you) he makes the most amazing Burmese things you did not know existed. AND here’s the REAL kicker: we did not even notice them on the menu until he suggested we try them, but Pong makes some seriously awesome potato latkes. I am NOT even kidding right now (would I joke around about something as important as food? Seriously, guys.) Needless to say, we have probably eaten about six of the last eight meals there.

Yesterday was truly an epic night for me at Flip Flop: I polished off some Burmese pork meatballs, minced lamb on pineapple, a delicious Thai curry prawn dish, noodles, AND mango with sticky rice for dessert. I took the belt hands down. It was like a TKO before I even sunk my fork into that deliciously succulent mango and coconutty-sweet rice.

Fritz and I are already discussing how and where we might procure an actual, physical Fat Kid Belt. I can already see us e-mailing back and forth, going over everything we ate in one day just to see who won the belt. FedExing that thing back and forth is going

Manishma!

I made a few references in my penultimate post to the many Israelis on this island, promising more on the subject. For those of you unaware of this bizarre phenomenon, there are so many Israelis who vacation in Thailand, that there are actually signs here in the islands in Thai, Hebrew, and English. Koh Phangan reins as the #1 destination for Israeli kids when they finish their army duty, and as a result, much Hebrew is heard on the beaches and in the falafel shops.

These kids are not to be messed with. They drink more than you can, they party harder than you do, and they just finished the army, so they could definitely kick your ass. A typical conversation with one of the many Israelis we have met goes something like this:

Me: Where are you from?
Random Israeli: Israel
Me: Yes, obviously. Where?
Random Israeli: Tel Aviv
Me: Oh, cool. I have family there.
Random Israeli: You are Jewish?!
Me: Yes.
Random Israeli: [incredulously] Both your parents?
Me: Uh, yeah.
Random Israeli: So, why are you not in Israel?
Me: Well, right now because I am in Thailand, and typically because I am American. I live in New York.
Random Israeli: Ahhh, New York!

My favorite is when they try to recruit you to join their army. “You know, you could volunteer!” Then I have to break it to them that I’m actually 26, and then I feel old, because divulging this information causes them to look at me like I’m really old. They follow up their recruitment schtick with, “But it’s fun!” to which I reply something really sardonic like, “Yeah, it’s all fun and games until somebody invades Lebanon,” and then they usually walk away looking mildly offended and mostly confused.

In the immortal words of Lionel Richie: "All night looong...(all night)"

Well, we survived the Full Moon Party. Apologies for not posting sooner, but it took us a few days to recover. All in all, it was an amazing night--definitely one of the best parties I've ever had the pleasure of attending.

For those of you who are not familiar with it, the Full Moon Party is a monthly all-night dance rager (from 10:00 p.m. until 10:00 a.m.) on the island of Koh Phangan. It began over a decade ago and now attracts between 8,000 and 30,000 partygoers each month. Its popularity has spawned the Half Moon Party, which takes place in the jungle instead of the beach, and also a Black Moon Party, which is a big, crazy trance-music fest, from what I understand. Full Moon remains the largest and most popular of these events, attracting deejays from all over the world and featuring multiple dance areas along the beach of Hat Rin and inside the many bars that line it.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, let me start from the very beginning: We arrived on Koh Phangan after two flights, a loooong layover in Bangkok, and our multiple attempts to hustle multiple planeloads of other travelers into taking a speedboat with us at nearly midnight from Koh Samui (the island we flew to, Koh Phangan has no airport) to Koh Phangan, where the party is. We managed to negotiate the price down and although we didn't get a full boat of 10 passengers, we did pretty well for ourselves, acquiring seven people total (four others.) Our motley crew of late-night seamen included an Israeli (of course...more on them later), a British guy who sails ships to Antarctica, a dude from Singapore, and a girl from Northern Ireland who has been working at DisneyWorld for the past year.

Once on Koh Phangan, we arrived at the hotel we had booked only to find it completely desolate. There was a big sign on the reception door exclaiming a penalty of 5,000 baht (approximately USD $150) for waking up the staff at night. That seemed both excessive and unnecessarily unwelcoming. Although called the Beer Bungalow, (something that had caused me to gasp in horror a few weeks earlier) it certainly did not appear to live up to its name as a haven of fun and debauchery. It was also decidedly further away from the party beach than expected. We left in search of a new place to stay, which on Koh Phangan the night before a full moon, is no easy task.

Thankfully, we managed to find one room at one hotel and a second at another just up the street, both no more than a 10 minute walk from Sunrise Beach, site of the world-famous Full Moon Party. We knew this would come in handy at 6:00 a.m. when we were done partying and ready to crash. Sneaky and I bunked up and Fritz and Antarctica Dude (who was not staying for the party, but instead heading to a yoga resort on the north side of the island) took the room at the Crazy Israeli Trance Dance Party Resort (again, more on that later.)

After checking in at our respective lodgings, we decided to immediately find some fun. At this point, however, Sneaky and I realized we had no way of contacting Fritz; We had both left our hotel room sans mobile telephone (they were dead anyway) and we weren't even sure that Fritz had his on him.

Wandering around town in search of a snack, a drink, and Fritz, we were perplexed by the fact that the place seemed completely empty. We spent a good 20-30 minutes trying to understand where the hell everyone was. We wandered into the "town" part of Hat Rin, a maze of narrow streets, no cars, hardly any mopeds even--just falafel stand after banana pancake stand after falafel stand, interspersed with bars airing episodes of Friends or Family Guy on large televisions.

Finally, we found the beach and it suddenly made sense why all the bungalows and hotels we passed were empty: EVERYONE--thousands of people--were partying right on the beach. And not just some random beach, but one of the most beautiful beaches you've ever seen (even at nearly 2:00 a.m., we were able to decipher that.) We grabbed buckets, the drink of choice in Hat Rin. For those of you unaware of the bucket phenomenon, there are collapsible tables all over the backpacker areas of Thailand, where drinks are sold in beach pails. Basically, you choose a fifth of Thai whiskey or vodka and a mixer or two, like Coca-Cola or Red Bull. My favorite combo is the Smirnoff/Schwepps Lemon Soda/pineapple juice bucket.

Buckets in hand, we hit the party. We eventually (and thankfully) ran into Fritz inside a bar beach called Cactus. As I said to Sneaky, "They are playing Madonna's Like a Prayer. If Fritz is anywhere on this beach, he will be here within minutes." And I was correct. And there was much laughter and rejoicing.

We stayed out until about 5:00 a.m. before we decided to call it a night; After all, this was really just the warm-up for the real thing.

After sleeping most of the day, enjoying a restorative mango shake and some omelets, we prepped for FMP night with foot massages. That was where we learned that the Thai massage place would be open all night during the party. Fabulous. We knew we'd be back.

I got all dolled up in a new dress that I would not mind tossing if it got covered in day-glo body paint (that stuff does NOT come out) and my requisite hippie headscarf. We sat around in one of the Family Guy bars, enjoying delicious pad thai, buckets, and a few beers. We watched at least four episodes, including the one where Peter goes back in time and ends up married to Molly Ringwald and they spoof Back to the Future. Hilarious. [NB: the very fact that there are all these bars in Backpacker Land that show Family Guy all day and all night makes me want to write an episode of Family Guy where the Griffins end up in a bar in Thailand, watching Family Guy. It's very existential, I realize. Try not to let that blow your mind right now.]

We hit the beach a little past 11:00 p.m. and it was already bumpin'. There was a giant fire jump rope which none of us had the cojones to try out, and they were just beginning to illuminate the huge fire sign that read: FULL MOON PARTY, HAADRIN, KOH PHANGAN

On the whole, I was pretty surprised to find that the atmosphere was significantly more chill that I had expected. There wasn't (or rather, I did not notice) any overt or out-in-the-open drug use, and I didn't really feel uncomfortable or unsafe at any point. Mostly, it was just a bunch of body-painted hippies and pseudo-hippies from all over the world (well, mostly Israel), drinking and dancing like maniacs. I have to think there was a non-insignificant number of people people doing cocaine or ecstasy, but I chose to fuel my all-night rave dancing with banana honey pancakes. I had three over the course of the night (OK, one with Nutella instead of honey.)

Generally, the scene was a lot less seedy than I had expected, which was definitely a good thing. It could be that the twin factors of it being low season for tourism and the middle of a worldwide economic recession made for a more tame party with fewer revelers, but I didn't find anything disappointing about it.

We took a break around 3:15 a.m. for a second round of hour-long foot massages, and it was just what we needed to get back out there and dance like the champs that we are. I definitely passed out in that chair, but once she did the Thai massage stretching and gave my spine a few good cracks, I was ready to dance until dawn!

We lost Fritz close to 5:00 a.m., when he took off for some Dr. Falafel and his bed. I am pretty sure he was picking tahini out of his chest hair the next day. Meanwhile, I was being accosted by a very annoying Israeli kid who took forever to shake off. I finally managed to bolt and used it as an excuse to grab another banana pancake, since Sneaky was busy chatting up a British girl.

We stayed until 6:30 a.m., watching the sun rise over the ocean. The beach is certainly called Sunrise Beach with good reason--it's a spectacular spot from which to watch the dawn break.

I had originally thought that the Full Moon Party would be something I'd only ever do once; Much like Preakness, the most fun I'd never want to have again. I would definitely come back another time, but I'd probably want to see what the Half Moon Party in the jungle in like. Maybe I'll just have to stick around here on Koh Phangan for about two weeks... :)

FULL MOON PARTY!

We made it to Koh Phagnan last night after finding four other travelers to share a speedboat with us from Koh Samui. This place is absolutely insane. We partied it up on the beach last night in Hat Rin until about 5:00 a.m., and that's just really the pre-game for tonight: the world-famous Full Moon Party.

Stories and photos to come!

"Get this mother%$#^ing snake, off my mother@&$%ing trail!"

**Mom, before I even begin this story, I just want you to know that no one was hurt.**

Yesterday, we began a two-day romp through the Laotian countryside that was supposed to involve some easy trekking, an elephant ride, and kayaking. It didn't really turn out that way, but it was an adventure nonetheless.

We began our day at the Elephant Village, the starting point for our trek. After our Sapa experience, none of us were really too keen on another intense hike, and we were promised that there was not much trekking involved in this particular tour. You learn to take everything you are told with a grain of salt in Southeast Asia, but we were a bit shocked to learn that our first day would involve 4-5 hours of trekking to get the village where we were to overnight. D'oh.

Thankfully, unlike Sapa, it was a beautiful, partly cloudy and not terribly hot day. We crossed rice paddies, hills, valleys, streams, and enjoyed the vistas through the beautiful countryside just outside Luang Prabang.


Minutes into the trek, our guide (who was great, unlike the Sapa dudes) found a leech on his ankle. While mildly unsettling, it was nothing compared to the LIVE SNAKE we saw on the trail. At one point, our guide stopped dead in his tracks and said, "Whoa, snake!" Just as he said this, Sneaky and I saw a long (probably about two feet) silvery-grey thing dash across the brush. It didn't slither at all--it was VERY fast and appeared to dart into the bushes in a straight line. It was one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

We broke for lunch in the middle of an open meadow, and after one hour of post-lunch walking arrived at the village where we were to spend the night. Hoify is a Khmu (ethnic Cambodian minority) village of approximately 75 families. When we arrived around 3:30 p.m., only the town children and elderly were around; everyone else was working in the fields. They returned around 6:00 p.m.

There are no roads into Hoify, so nothing can be trucked into the village. Everything that comes in must be carried or brought by tractor.



Most people in the village didn't seem too phased by us falang. I imagine they get quite a few tourists coming through. Apart from watching the kids play a traditional ball game, climb trees to pick fruit, the obvious language barrier kept us from more interaction than a wave hello.

Nonetheless, it was really fascinating and uplifting and tragic all at the same time to be in a place where people live such a traditional lifestyle. Laos is one of the poorest countries in the world, and while the NGO presence in Hoify has allowed for the construction of latrines and the harnessing of running water from the mountains into communal bath areas, the poverty can be staggering. At the same time, one realizes that kids are kids, and they can be just as happy playing with a toy car made from garbarge as they would be with a PSP.

Dinner was prepared for us by a widow with three daughters, which is presumably why she was chosen by our NGO-partnered eco-tour company. She runs the three-"room" homestay across the "street" from her one-room house.

After enjoying pork with chilis, bok choy, veggies, sticky rice, soup, and squirrel stew, we cursed ourselves for not thinking to bring along a deck of cards and decided to sample the village's locally-brewed lao lao. The 500 ml beaker we shared was significantly stronger than the stuff we drank at the bowling alley. Our guide told us that it isn't unusual for a Khmu man to drink 1.5 liters of the stuff by himself in one night--the very thought of that nearly made me yak. It also made me realizes why people in rural areas do meth: it's really, really boring to have nothing to do.



Another funny moment was noticing a small child wearing an Osama bin Laden t-shirt. After the three of us gasped, we realized he probably had no idea who the hell was on his shirt, and we were relieved to see his friend in tow in a Scarface t-shirt. There's room somewhere here for a Samuel Huntington/Clash of Civilizations joke, but I'm just too tired to think of it.

All in all, the subdivided thatched hut we slept in (with mosquito netting!) was exponentially more comfortable than Fansipan base camp. Unfortunately, much like in Sapa, we awoke to torrential rains and had to hike the hour back to the Elephant Village in a downpour (thankfully, it was much warmer than in Sapa.) After 20 minutes of elephant riding and still no sign that the rain would clear up, we gave up on the idea of kayaking back into town and tuk-tuked it back.

"Hey, goat! I like your beard. I had a beard like that in A Perfect Storm. You see that movie, goat? Say hi to your mother for me."


Cute enough to make you want to pull an Angelina!

"Smokey, this is not 'Nam. This is bowling. There are rules."

By far one of the most amusing things about Luang Prabang is that the only place to hang out or grab a drink after 11:30 p.m. is the bowling alley. The People's Democratic Republic of Laos has a national curfew of midnight, by which all citizens must abide. However, some establishments are granted special reprieve to remain open "after hours." In LPB, the bowling alley is the only game in town.

The other night, we made like the Dude and hit the LPB bowling alley with our new friends whom we like to call the Doctors Without Borders. A brother-sister-cousin trio, all three are from Florida and in various stages of med school/residency, so they're pretty useful to keep around, in addition to being a lot of fun.

Highlights from the bowling alley include: Fritz bowling a turkey, Sneaky getting Jewy with some Israelis, and all of us having our first "lao lao" experience. Lao lao is essentially moonshine made from sticky rice. It starts out tasting a bit like sake, then flavors out more like tequila, and burns on the way down like grappa. Except that unlike those three liquors I just mentioned, it is not very good at all.

Nonetheless, we bowled a few games, shared many laughs, and generally enjoyed ourselves.

LPB

Photos from Luang Prabang!

Baruch ata adonai eloheynu melech ha olam, please don't let us die on a bridge in Laos. Aaaaamen.

There are many pleasant things about the hotel at which we are staying here in Luang Prabang (LPB.) For example, its tranquil setting on the banks of the Mekong River, or the phenomenally friendly staff who are ready and willing to help us with any question or request we might have.

Less than ideal is that to get to and from the center of town, one must cross a rickety old bridge (very imaginatively called "Old Bridge") on a foot path that hangs over the side, looks straight down into the Mekong below, and has terrifyingly uneven and shaky floorboards.

We said a little prayer the first time we crossed, and have continued to do so each time since. We have yet to conclusively decide whether it's scarier to cross at night or in broad daylight. Sneaky believes that nighttime is worse, since it compounds his twin fears of heights and darkness. I tend to think it's worse during the day, because you can actually see how damn shoddy the thing is. In any event, we try to avoid it whenever possible.

Lady in the street, freak at the buffet

If you ever find yourself in Hanoi, might I recommend the Metropole Hotel's high tea and chocolate buffet. I crushed those tiny tea sandwiches like Godzilla crushed Mothra. The chocolate buffet was something truly extraordinary: tiny pound cakes with shot glasses of Nutella, mini opera cakes, Napoleons, mousses, crepes, and truffles galore.

I should mention that Fritz and I have had quotidien contests for the Fat Kid Award of the Day. We are hoping to purchase an actual belt at some point in the near future, so that the daily Fat Kid Award recipient can properly bask in the glow of victory. I am proud to report that I have won the last two of three contests involving any sort of buffet. Breakfast is quickly becoming my specialty. Kobayashi, you're going down.

I am Woman, Hear Me Roar

One of the more frustrating things about traveling through Vietnam has been coping with the extremely servile culture...towards only men. Until I pointed it out to the boys, they thought it was some kind of coincidence that I was constantly served my food last and waited upon in stores only after their demands had been met.

Not that I'm necessarily 100% cool with the Western "ladies first" tradition, I certainly have my fair share of problems with that as well. However, as a feminist (that's right, I said it; There go my chances of ever being confirmed to the Supreme Court) I found it extremely difficult to deal with my needs constantly and consistently being put behind those of my male traveling partners.

Enough ranting for now. It will be interesting to compare Laos and Thailand to the Vietnam experience vis-a-vis gender issues.

Oh, Fancypants: You minxy little mountain...

Suffice it to say that climbing Fansipan was not the best outdoors experience I've ever had. I should have known when I was handed a pair of purple children's Wellies that this was not going to be a lot of fun...Information that would be have useful the previous day, before we booked.

The climb up to base camp was foggy, steep, and extremely muddy. At times, I sunk almost to my knees in mud, and was definitely thankful for the Wellies. Of course, the downside of them is that--while keeping your feet and ankles dry, clean and free of leeches (yes, a kid I met had a leech on him...gross)--the thin rubber soles are so thin that you feel every single rock, tree root, branch or bamboo stump underfoot. As I write this from a coffee shop in Hanoi two days later, my big toenails still feel bruised enough to fall off.

Also, it rained about 90% of the time, varying between a light mist and moderate showers. So that was great. All our gear was soaking wet by the time we got to base camp, and most of it did not dry overnight because it was so cold.

Base camp was two huts made of tin and bamboo. One had a fire going in it, and the porters made us a pretty impressive dinner feast of bamboo shoots and pork, fried tofu, rice, stir fried chicken, and some other delicacies. The other hut had bamboo "cots"--if you can call them that--lining both sides of the hut. The four of us (Sneaky, Fritz, Cecilia and I) staked out an area, grabbed the warmest looking sleeping bags, and basically slept on top of each other for warmth.

I used to think that I could sleep anywhere, anytime. Trains, cars, planes (usually before take-0ff, even) bars, noisy nightclubs--pretty much anywhere. I will now amend that statement by saying that it turns out that I am unable to sleep on bamboo branches up on a mountain. It is really VERY uncomfortable, and I still have some bruised on my hips and shoulders from where I tried to assume fetal position to keep warm and get comfy. I think none of us slept more than about five minutes at a time, and there was a lot of random waking up and giggling because the whole situation was just so tragically comical. Also, like true Manhattanites, Sneaky and I are both terrified of the dark, and spent a good amount of time worrying about what kind of Blair Witch might await us outside the hut if we had to pee in the middle of the night.

The next morning, after a night of next to no sleep and torrential downpours, I decided that the descent was going to be more than enough to keep me busy, and I decided against climbing the extra 300 meters to actually summit the damn thing. At this point, it was so rainy and foggy, that it was clear we wouldn't be able to see a thing from the top, so I opted to begin heading down with some Canadians who had summited the previous day.

Oh, I should mention that when we had been given the option to summit the previous day, I had said to our guides: "I think it would be better to wait until tomorrow. At least there's a chance we could see something then." To which he replied: "It rains every day this time of year." Once again, information that would have been useful yesterday.

The descent was pretty much uneventful. It continued to rain and we continued to curse the Wellies as we bruised our toes and soles on bamboo shoot stumps and rocks. All in all, it was certainly an adventure. Not one that I think I would recommend, though...