Falling unexpectedly in love...........

Looking at the Bagsu Waterfall, Himalayas, India

With my flight home booked for the 9th August, I felt more at ease. Admittedly I had booked it on a bit of a whim, but the idea of going home had slowly begun to creep its way into mind over the past few weeks. I kept pondering what to do next and was unsure - I didn't want to be just hanging around, I wanted stimulation, to keep learning and doing constructive things. My illness and uncertainty were the final straws that prompted me to book the flight.

The stunning view of the valley from my Guesthouse (when the view was clear!)

Having a return date in mind I wanted to make the most of the few days I had left before I surprised my family and friends in England by returning unexpectedly after 10 months! My stomach quickly recovered and I decided to get to know my surroundings better. At this point I was staying in the mountains of the Himalayas near to the town of McCloud Ganj, best known as the place where the Tibetan Goverment in exile are based. The whole town doesn't really feel Indian, there are many Tibetans everywhere, several monks and lots of Buddhist influence so it feels a bit more liberal than most places. Of course you still have your usual cows wandering around the streets.

However I was staying in Bagsu, a town about 2km away from McCloud Ganj that has grown from the many backpackers that come to stay there. It isn't a place you go to understand India culture, however as I discovered, it is a great place for learning new skills. They have classes to teach you about anything from yoga, meditation, jewelry making, dance, music, art to buddhist philosophy, massage, ayuveda (Indian traditional medicine, massage and psychology).

McCloud Ganj - home to the Dalai Lama

On a whim I decided to try the Indian Classical Singing lessons that a fellow traveller had recommended to me. I'd always wanted to have singing lessons at secondary school but was never brave enough using the excuse in my head that it was 'too late'. But it is never too late. As I had nothing to lose I thought 'why not?' and it is a decision I'll never regret. I knew as soon as I had that nervous feeling in my stomach that you get before doing something new that I was doing the exact right thing as it meant I was putting myself out of my comfort zone and if there's one thing I've learnt this trip, that is always the most rewarding path of action.

My teacher's name was Anita and like everyone that meets her, I became strangely intrigued by her. Some people you are somehow in awe of and that is what I, but also many others travellers I met, seem to experience with her. She is a completely down to earth, kind, friendly Indian middle aged woman, but there is something about her that I can't fully describe whereby she just makes you feel serene and when she smiles or laughs, it also makes you happy. I thoroughly enjoyed the first lesson with her in which I learnt about the Indian Notes (Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Dha Ni Sa) instead of Do, Re, Me, Fa etc. and got to grips with some simple exercises and Indian mantras (short chants that Hindus recite for different occasions such as for good luck, calming the mind or to worship a particular god). It was completely different to anything I'd ever tried.

Rohit (on Tabla), Anita (Singing) and Hari (Flute) at the Indian Classical Music Concert in Bagsu

That evening I went to see Anita perform in a concert with her husband Rohit who plays the Tabla (India Classical Drums) and I was fascinated. I listened in amazement and wonder to Anita's voice. She truely makes really difficult singing look effortless and was able to manipulate, bend and move her voice as if it were an instrument separate from herself. I'd heard very little Indian Classical Music and learnt just how very different it is to Western music. The sounds and the way the voice is used are completely different. Anita sounded beautiful and I was amazed by how well she could sing and it only made me want to learn more.

Me practicing my singing in the mountains

After a few lessons I was hooked and falling unexpectedly in love. Just as quickly as I had booked my flight, I cancelled it! It was so spontaneous (and probably irrational) but it felt so liberating to be trying something that I have always had a secret ambition to do. Waking up each day to go and see Anita for lessons made me happy as I felt privileged to be learning from such a talented musician, when she would sing infront of me in class it was like having a private performance. I started to have a morning class and afternoon class. In the break between classes I could practice, do errands or explore the mountains. As chance would have it, a really good friend I had made 6 months earlier in Rishikesh, turned up as he was doing a three month ayuveda course so in the evening I also had someone to spend time with and relax. I quickly settled into a routine and started to feel at home....

The steps up to my Guesthouse during monsoon (this was a normal day of rain)

Perhaps my feeling of being a home was because of the rain? Monsoon had crept in and I was in one of the places that gets the most rainfall in India. But it didn't phase me as I sort of missed rain and had never experienced this type of weather before so was quite intrigued as to what it would be like and how people can go about their daily lives. It also meant it was low season so Bagsu was very quiet and cheap. It rained ALOT..... for the first two weeks I couldn't even see the view because I was permanently in a big misty cloud. It would rain continuously for most of the day or night causing floods of water to flow down the hills, but at least it was diverted down, I imagine that in a city it would be a nightmare. I had to permanently carry round an umbrella and invest in some plastic shoes but actually really enjoyed singing in the rain with my umbrella and having the mountains to myself as everyone else wanted to be inside. It was a very pretty location as the rain made everything very green. The only downside was everything in my room started to become mouldy.

Performing with Anita at the concert in Bagsu

Things in Bagsu just got better and better. My singing classes were going well and I was invited to sing with Anita at her weekly concert alongside her and her husband. I was so nervous but very honoured to be asked, it was such a new experience for me that I really, really enjoyed - it was a bit of a dream. I introduced the mantras and accompanied Anita on a couple of songs attempting to sing harmonies with her and not be overwhelmed with just how high they sing in classical music. I eventually ended up singing in three concerts during my time in Bagsu and am so grateful to Anita and Rohit that they gave me these opportunities to develop my confidence. It was fun to get ready, dress up, wear jewelry and makeup as I was so used to my smelly, old backpacker clothes. I was also very happy that new friends turned up to come and support me. There was a very magical feeling in the air, especially during my second concert where the room was completely full of people and there was an atmosphere of appreciation for the music in the air. It was such a great feeling to have people come up to me at the end to tell me that they really enjoyed it.

People playing music at Ohm Star Cafe

I was beginning to wonder what I'd done in a past life to deserve such amazing times because just to make things even better, I had managed to get into a situation whereby I kept being given free massages because of the kind of people I kept meeting in Bagsu who were taking courses and needed to practice! It was a hard job but someone has to volunteer for these types of difficult jobs. To add to the fun, I often would spend evenings in Ohm Star cafe where people would be playing live music. During the day, I did lots of practicing, walking around the mountains to keep fit and on my occasional days of I would go to explore nearby waterfalls or eat sushi (surprisingly good) in McCloud Ganj.

It's funny to think just how close I was to leaving Bagsu but I actually ended up staying there for six whole weeks and having the time of my life. I can't forget my days of monsoon rain and singing in concerts, it's a whole world away from my England life and I just felt so incredibly relaxed after that. Since Bagsu, seeing a bit of rain makes me quite happy. I wonder how long that will last when I get back to England!

Temples and Trauma

Temples.....

As luck would have it, in Rishikesh I happened to see a friendly girl called Anya who I'd met earlier at the Organic Farm in Nepal. How we happened to meet in the huge crowds of orange pilgrims is beyond me but its another one of those funny coincidences that seems to happen a great deal when you travel and being a white girl alone in the street, she didn't exactly blend in. We decided to quickly up and leave Rishikesh and head to the wonderful Golden Temple located in Amritsar, in the state of Punjab.

A picture perfect image of the Golden Temple

The Golden Temple is renowned by Sikhs around the world. I've learnt much about Buddhism and Hinduism whilst being away, but Sikhism I knew very little of so this was an opportunity to learn more. Sikhism evolved at a time in which the caste system was still very much entrenched and your caste (social standing) really did define how you were treated and your life prospects. As a result of the Sikh's beliefs there is no charge for entering the Golden Temple as they strongly believe that all beings are equal regardless of their race, country, caste, age, gender etc. From what I experienced they are also extremely friendly and kind. The atmosphere in the temple itself was so calm and tranquil and I felt like we were able to walk around freely without being hassled, which is certainly not always the case in India. The temple is also a world away from what it is like outside in the stuffy, polluted, busy city of Amritsar.

Walking around the temple before the monsoon rains set it

Thanks to the generosity of the Sikhs and their willingness to teach other about their religion, I also had the honor of staying for a night in the onsite dorm, again free of charge. The room was pretty full and I had to share a bed with Anya, but it was part of the fun, it really created a sense of unity. It was a great experience to sit on the floor with hundreds of others and eat in the large food hall which is run completely by volunteers. It's really an impressive operation to watch twenty people who are there just peeling vegetables and another thirty who are there just to wash up plates. I have much respect for these people. But my highlight has to be waking up at 3am to go to the toilet (no not this in itself) but having to walk through a large open courtyard full of about two hundred people all lying on the ground on scarves and mats, fast asleep, looking so peaceful.

Trauma.....

The next destination was town of Bagsu set in the Himalayas of Himanchal Pradesh and widely recommended to me by other travellers. My relationship with Bagsu was eventually a long and sordid love affair which got off to a rocky start. Already going home was beginning to enter my stream of consciousness because of the amount I had been sick and the following events only set to convince me that it really was time to leave.

I was becoming weary of being conned and having to be on my guard. In an attempt to find some light relief I tried out 'Laughter Yoga' for the first time. How can you go wrong with laughing? Who doesn't want to laugh? But it just became a very weird situation as it was just myself, Anya and the teacher who turned out to be another one of those Indian men who like to touch and watch Western women using the guise of 'yoga teacher'. Grrrrrr. The class consisted of us having to 'fake laugh' in many different styles (on your back kicking and screaming like a child, giggling like a girl, doing a huge bold manly laugh etc). Perhaps in a different setting with friends it could be greatly amusing but I never realised how hard it is to laugh when that is what you have to do - the frustration of trying to get a real laugh out, can the teacher tell that I am still faking it?! Only I can get into these weird situations. I definitely got some real laughs out, its hard not to when a crazy Indian sticks his tounge out and growls like a lion 10 inches from your face, but it all felt too artificial. Also what kind of respectable yoga teacher asks you for a hug at the end of your lesson? Then I encountered the seemingly innocent monk who wanted me to teach him English but it turned out he just wanted to touch my leg. I was also surprised when I heard him speak to someone else at my guesthouse the next day with miraculously improved English!

These kinds of things started to drive me a bit up the wall. Following a night of more stomach problems, where I had to keep getting up and running outside into the cold through the rain, down the steps to get to the bathroom, I had really had enough. I booked my flight home and felt like it was a sign that it was the right time............but was it?

What happened to my dreamland?

Three and a half months passed unbelievably fast in Nepal. Before we knew it, Lucy and I had travelled together for six months without any issues, quite a feat I'd say. We were on exactly the same wavelength, wanting to learn as much as possible. We both surprised ourselves at how long we could spend together. I joked that we'd become husband and wife. We were sleeping in the same room, eating all of our meals together and doing nearly all of the same activities. We'd shared the highs, the lows and knew one another inside out, but alas it was time to move on, we needed to explore on our own and find our individual direction before it became a bit weird.

Lucy decided to stay at the farm for further study as she'd developed a strong interest in organic farming and development. I decided to return back to the motherland of India, this had been my intention all along as there is always more to see, do and experience there. I was excited to travel alone as it is more of an adventure and challenge - you never know what will surprise you next in India which is why I love it.

However, I'd be lying if I said that at this point I was completely happy. The farm was a brilliant experience, but I was at a low point, I was completely fed up......sick of being sick. On seven occasions since beingin Nepal I had experienced severe stomach problems, enough so to prevent me from leaving the vicinity of my bathroom for two, three,sometimes seven days in a row, most of these times I had to resort totaking antibiotics which I didn't like. My body felt absoloutely exhausted, despite my healthy life style of veg food, yoga and no alchol, which made it even more frustrating. I was beginning to wonder whether it was a sign that it was time to take the plunge and go home, afterall I'd been away nine months. But opportunities like this trip are rare, so I decided to persevere. Perhaps a fresh start in India out all alone would do me good.

Over the course of my trip I have become more concious of being an 'eco traveller', trying to minimise any negative impacts of my journey. This has included me investing in a SteriPen (a UV purifying pen which sterilises water so no need for buying plastic bottles), stopping buying loo roll (Euch? No - it is possible, using the Indian techniques!) and lastly avoiding flying at all costs. The latter is only possible because the rail network is so extensive, so cheap and now its easy to book seats online plus I don't have the excuse that I don't have the time to go the long way. That's not to say it's not a pain in the arse to avoid flying! My journey from the capital of Nepal to my next destination in Rishikesh (800km apart) wss spread over four days with a ridiculously oversized bag, guitar and yoga mat. I used nearly every form of transport available (train, bus, auto rickshaw, cycle rickshaw, taxi) and had to spend two seperat

e days waiting on train platforms for around 10 hours with people staring at me in a confused manner wondering how I could possibly be alone as a female and possibly play an instrument. I wore my Indian style outfit (a salwar kamise), which I think meant people generally left me alone. Looking back, it really was ridiculous, but I am still happy I did it, I had some nice moments of people giving me part of their lunch, buying me water and it's not every day you nearly get covered in urine because the woman infront of you on the bus lets her two year old wee out of the window.

Looking geeky in my Salwar Kamise which helps me to avoid attention in the crowds!

I was looking forward to my return to Rishikesh, the place in which everything felt like a dream land earlier in my trip, so many different ways of thinking, a great place for exploring body and mind. In my head I had decided that two weeks of intensive yoga practice would be good for my health and I'd also learn alot, I was already familiar with Rishikesh so it eased me into being alone. But as I reached half way in my journey I started to notice that something wasn't normal. Each station I passed, there seemed to be people lying around on big plastic sheets (this is normal), yet they were dressed in bright orange, chattering merrily away. The crowds grew bigger the closer I got to Rishikesh and were completely male dominated, mainly aged 18 - 40 years.

Little did I know we were heading to exactly the same destination. As I entered Rishikesh, some enquiries quickly confirmed that I'd come at the time of the Shiva pilgrimage where Hindus, particularly from the Northern states of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar (somewhat poorer than other states) come to Rishikesh, or nearby Haridwar to perform prayers (puja) and bathe in the holy Ganges, around end July. Often for one direction of their journey they must travel all by foot and you see them holding small plastic containers in which they collect Ganga water, which once collected may not be put down on the floor as it is sacred and is kept for future use as it is seen as very holy.

A pilgrimage may conjur images of peaceful, respecful pilgrims, but as this is India, you can turn any expectation on its head. My dreamy traveller, hippy paradise had been transformed by rowdy, ladish men who behaved more like teenagers. The place had an atmosphere I can only describe as a mix between a lads holiday in Ibiza and the testosterone driven hoardes at a football match. It was so strange, just walking down the street became a huge task as they were flooded with orange clad men who would whip out their camera phones at the sight of you and walked along shouting loudly 'Praise Shiva' (but in Hindi). This very quickly became tiresome and exhausting.

Orange clad Shiva pilgrims making lots of noise at the side of the Holy Ganga

The river Ganges had risen greatly and the first few days the rain didn't stop, monsoon was on its way. No longer was the river beautiful and serenene, I couldn't sit at the water without being hassled, though the festival was interesting to have encountered, from the safety of the balcony. I felt like the pilgrimage was more of an excuse for a lads holiday. I decided that it would be good to get started with my yoga and looked up the teacher I'd held in such high esteem before I left. As the season was so low, it became not unusual for me to be the only student so I got real one to to tuition. What a good student can only dream of - unless your teacher is a complete slave driver, sado masachist.

It emerged that the Ashtanga yoga style that I was learning about was just too much for me. My interpretation of yoga is that it should challenge your body, but also make you feel relaxed and that over time you can develop how far your body can move in the asanas (poses) as you learn the right breathing technique. But this guy just wanted to push my body to the limits. I'd go as far as possible in an asana, then he would push my body even further. Yes I can put my head on my knees, when he forces it, but it felt so un natural and I just wasn't enjoying it any more. Plus his adjustment technique was so borderline intrusive. Who I'd originally trusted I slowly lost respect for. I've learnt finding a good yoga teacher in India is ridiculously difficult, most are just slightly perverted and don't really know about yoga, my best teachers have all been Westerners.

There wasn't much in the way of company in Rishikesh either. I met a 40 year old Spanish man who was working in a city nearby on a computer project who became scarily obsessed with me after spending just one morning together. I showed him some temples and local sights whcih he just hadn't even bothered to explore. When he asked if he could hug me, in the middle of the street with so many Indians, I just wanted to hit him around the head. Aside from the fact that I didn't want to hug him anyway, I was completely bemused that he had been in India 6 months and didn't know that it is really rude and disrespectful for men and women to have any physical contact in public, especially in a holy place. What was this man thinking? Needless to say I 'lost' his email address. The atmosphere in Rishikesh had been the complete opposite of the last time I was there and after one week, I knew that it just wasn't going to work out, too many strange experiences in a short space of time!