We are used to hiking on our own, living on oatmeal, pasta, nuts and chocolate. A three-course dinner and a staff to wash the dishes is not really our style but on the Kuari Pass Trek, “you get what you pay for” took on a completely positive connotation.
The sound of fork against bowl is a clue that eggs are being beaten into omelets somewhere nearby. Laborers squat at tiny stands for thali while housewives line up to carry home freshly baked naan wrapped in newspaper. Placid cows are oblivious to the traffic jams they cause. This is Old Delhi Bazaar.
A tour of the bodegas of La Rioja had been on my list of romantic daytrips for awhile. But when A. and I got into specifics, we realized that only one of us could tipple liberally while the other would be the designated driver. Neither of us wanted to be the chaperone. Enter the Enobus to solve our problem.
A few things we like about Switzerland: the referendum system, clean public toilets and bread.
Just before 9 AM, His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama made his entrance. Everyone stood up. There was a hush, that particular sound of hundreds of people holding their breath. A few people around us started crying. Practitioners of Buddhism bowed in prayer.
Our day trip to Badrinath was the perfect array of the elements that make up what it is to travel in India: crowds, opportunistic capitalism, generosity and spirituality.
Were Stan to sweat, we’d see every bead, but he doesn’t because he’s too cool.
If you only have time to do one thing in Singapore, eat. And even if you have time to do something else, you should eat some more.
On our first visit to New Delhi Railway Station, we were well-documented on how to buy train tickets and avoid touts. And yet…we got diverted and received a 20-rupee lesson in persuasion and salesmanship.