For Mom, Love Steve

Having conquered the Zoji La Pass a few days prior, which was the only way into the Himalaya lined state, I took off this time fully loaded with saddle bags and as much fuel as the tank would hold (@ 14 litres.)

Unfortunately, the crystal clear weather that I had for the week in Srinigar left when I did. It was nothing horrific, but it was one layer of light gray clouds. In elevation, the difference in temperature between sun and shade is often quite drastic. Even with a t-shirt, long sleeve button up, and two fleece jackets, the cold air was still permeating down to my skin. It was much different when I went the first time and was fine, even to the top of the pass, with a t-shirt and fleece jacket.

I zipped through to Sonamarg rather quickly, with the initial awe of cool weather, mountains, and snow capped peaks having worn off. I did the registration thing at the base of the pass and started my way up. It got pretty snappy cold up there, enough so that I donned my new raincoat and gloves. I only had a couple of skid outs and otherwise zipped right up to the top. I was still having a little fouling out problem, but after winding up first and second gears, it clears it out and runs fine there on out. At the top it was the usual view and I patted myself on the back for successfully making it through the only (I thought) rough patch to making it into Ladakh.

The “I thought” part kicked in really quickly on the backside when I reached the part where I stopped at my first run through. In one of the pictures, you can see me parked on a concrete road section right after the dirt road ended. From there it is a gradual snow covered decline down into the next turn. Well, I had thought that it was just this gradual, concrete road down to a sun lit valley with flowers blooming and birds singing. Nope. Not even close. What I got was run-off covered, rock patch road with arctic winds whipping right off the tops of the snow covered peaks. In the title, I stated I peed in my pants. Well, I did, literally, twice. “Pissing in your pants” is a kind of slang term used in I guess America and other English speaking places, but it actually means to be scared. Well, I wasn’t scared, I was wet, freezing, my hands were frozen into claws and to get my pants down was about five layers of zips, snaps, and buttons. One thing with elevation, at least for me anyways, is that I have to pee, a lot, especially after coming from somewhere where I was just laying around eating and drinking. I have to pee about every hour for the first day or two any time I am above 3000m. Drinking a ton of water is also about the only real way to stave off the affects of altitude so drinking like a camel didn’t help either. Now, don’t think that I didn’t try, but after barreling through some shallow pools of ice water and some not so shallow, I was drenched from waist down. Having decided against buying waterproof lowers, it was just jeans protecting the nether regions. Just for the record, the last time I tried to get my pants down, I couldn’t undo the buttons on my jeans and ended up pulling the button off of one of the button-flies and scratching little Schwinn when I pulled my pants back up. After I was about half way down, it was over, I didn’t give a crap as standing out in the rain and cold air trying to get my pants down just wasn’t going to happen, so I did as they did in Dumb and Dumber, psychologically fought against what is the normally right and wrong, and let loose. And you know what, it is just like in the movies, a moments relief as the heat just runs through your body and you give a sigh of double relief, and then to my surprise, there was no ill after effects. I was still getting pounded by water from the bottom and the top, so nothing lost. Hell, the second time was even easier. But enough about that.

It was the similar carved out road in a deep valley surrounded by snowcaps, but when it is cold and rainy, it just kind of loses its sex appeal. The only real meaningful pass through was a little village called Drass, which is the second coldest inhabited city in the world, second only to some place in Siberia. Minus 30-40 degrees Celsius in Winter. Brrrrrrrr. Other than that, the weather cleared a bit and I was able to cool air dry off as I zipped my way to the halfway point of Kargil.

Kargil is a governing city of the surrounding area so it is slightly larger than a village. Half of it is also made up of an Indian Army base (one of the closest border points with Pakistan.) For most, it is just a in-transit stop over half way between Srinigar and Ley. Although to most it is a one night stop, I stayed a second night not only to rest a bit, but also to do a little strolling around and learning about how the people make it through the closed off freezing winters. The passes to Srinigar are only open from May-October and the Ley side from June-October. The rest of the year the valley is closed off to outsiders with the exception of those who might fly in. Some of the locals said that they go for about six months with no fresh fruits or vegetables and usually end the season eating strictly dal (lentils). Crazy, although it also signifies that the work for the season is over and now they can just party and have festivals. For others it meant get the hell out and go to Goa for the winter.

Luckily, waiting the extra day, I caught a stretch of some no cloud sunny skies. It was picture perfect with beautiful views, semi-warm weather, and dry roads. I took advantage of it and stopped by the little village of Lamayuru for a few days for some R&R in the sun and my introduction into the Buddhist religion of Ladakh. All of a sudden it was monasteries and Gompas (churches) with a bunch of Monks wandering around (not shaved heads). I even got a chance to spin my first prayer wheel. The change of food was also a huge positive as now soup and momo’s were on the menu. After Lamayuru, I made the 1.5 hour drive to another religious village, Alchii, of course it took me five hours as it was just a gorgeous day and the views were outstanding as the road wove through a canyon with a Himalayan fueled river running through it. Alchii turned out to be a kind of designer tourist town so I didn’t really enjoy it as much although it was beautifully manicured and it was also home to the only surviving Buddhist temples from back in the 11th century. It has the epitome of early art in the Chhoskhor Temples and I was just told another World Heritage site. I even got to meet the local Lama, although he seemed pretty disinterested in the whole thing.

The following day I left Alchii and made the final run to Ley and limped into town with a leaking front shock but otherwise in pretty good spirits as I just beat a storm that rolled in that evening.

And that is where I am, sitting in Ley, recouping and preparing to do a few local runs around the area. What I did not factor in correctly is that the pass that would take me out of this valley and back down into India is usually closed until July. All fine and dandy except for the fact that my visa expires the end of June. Not good. But you know what, thank god for Global warming. The weather has been changing and now, they are expecting the pass to be operable by the middle of May. Hell yea to pollution and the Green House effect. I just might make it over the pass in time and not have to retrace my steps back to Srinigar.

If my writing bores you, I will follow it up with a kind of picture Diorama. Enjoy.

*******Change that, I can’t find a place that will allow uploading of photos, so it might be a little longer.****************

I was really looking forward to this part of my trip as spending the last four months either at the beach or in the heat of central India started to wear a bit. Dust, sweat, and temples were becoming routine, so as I did a one nighter in the transport hub town of Jammu which in itself was a bit of fresh air as I got my first taste of riding a bit in something hilly. At night it got to the point where I thought about pulling my sleep sheet out for the night, but it was still fairly mild.

The next morning I was up at the crack of dawn and on the road as I had the longest leg of my trip (not too much in the way of places to stay on this leg except for some resort places along the way. Almost immediately I was into some pretty steep vertical hills that could be considered mountains. It was a bit worrisome at first as I turned off the seemingly main road to follow the well signed NH-1. It was worrisome because the line of Jeep hires and buses kept on the main road and I was on my lonesome. It was a short half an hour or so of doing some pretty good climbing before I came out on the other side of a fairly steep ravine and met up with all the traffic again. I guess they came up with a quicker less drastic route. After that it even got better.

Pine trees. Pine trees are a good sign for clean, cool, mountain air. When you see pine trees, it almost takes on the same soothing relief as when you get the first view of a long stretch of sandy beach along the ocean. The smell and feel of the air changes and all of a sudden you are smiling.

The traffic was a bit hectic with a mixture of large transport lorries, buses, and jeep/car loads of tourists making their way to the rmountain resorts around Kashmir. Schwinn did a pretty good job of carrying me up the winding roads as well as zipping through traffic and finding safe passage through the mountain roads. It may seem like bike riding is very dangerous given the situation, but in reality if you do drive with a little bit of pizzazz, you can keep yourself out of the death zones rather easily. There were plenty of times where traffic got locked up and because I was on my bike I was able to zip past the blockage and have clear roads in front and behind me. Those were special moments. It was surprising though that I saw no other foreign bikers and not so many locals on them either. Oh well, just more open road for me.

Srinagar was my target location and used to be the main summer tourist destination for Indians as it provided for cool temperatures while the rest of India was racked with heat and humidity. Currently it is slowly recovering from the war torn times of the 80’s when Pakistan and India almost came to nuclear blows over this peace of property. Even now, being so close to the Pakistan border as well as having a heavy percentage of Muslim and Hindi residents, the area is sometimes targeted by terrorists who zip back and forth across the border. I do have to say that it is the heaviest militiarized zone that I have been in including Jerusalem. Although the area is fairly full of Indian tourists and about ten foreigners, there is an air of uneasiness. I gauge these areas by watching the soldiers. Here, they are always staggered with rarely more than two people ever being near each other. The patrols are always five meter staggers. The soldiers also treat you as invisible unless you do something wrong. In some other places, the soldiers are bored because there really is nothing that is going on so they will kid around and joke with you or at some points terrorize you. Here, like in Israel/Palestine, they have other things on their minds than foreigners, so they don’t even react to you. Also, these guys don’t mess around when they are on duty. They are stationed about every fifty or so meters, but what really stands out is that they pay attention to the direction that there could be a problem. For example, when you take the road around the lake, you don’t find guys day dreaming while peering out to the lake, they are all faced away from the lake looking out into the forest areas. Very professional.

Beyond the heavy military presence, the area is gorgeous. You have Dal Lake which is the center piece. As a high altitude lake it is dark and clear. The real claim to fame though is the centuries old houseboats that are tailored to the visiting clientele. Basically, they are leftovers from the British occupation and have been revitalized into catering to visiting tourists. There are currently over a thousand of these boats. Now, for most, houseboat connotates something different. These are like little boutique bed and breakfasts rather than what you will find in the floating party boats elsewhere. Detailed wood engravings, fancy interiors, all the plush luxuries you would find in any land based hotel. The locals have turned these into showpieces and also live on them as well as family dwellings. Now the negative aspect which partially made me decide to stay in a guest house is that they are only sort of on the lake. Yes they are floating, but they are permanently docked side by side, all thousand of them. It is really like a tight knit neighborhood. Also, the waste from these boats run straight back down into the water so it is kind of like floating in your own septic tank. The other problem is that the majority of boats are stacked right off the main road that splits the lake from the market/hotel area, so there is tons of noisy traffic. For me, I wanted peace and quiet. Being pounced on ten kilometers before I even made it to town was the final nail as I didn’t want to deal with all the tourist crap. I drove around and finally found a nice little guest house on the other side of the market area on a road that splits a huge cemetary. Yes, the backyard as well as the front yard is packed with grave stones, but it is beautifully quiet, the family has accepted me as their own, and the little neighborhood is action packed with non-touristic stuff.


My day starts with a nice hot cup of sweet tea to get me going in the cool brisk air of morning. As long as you are in the sun, the temperature is perfect, but in the shade it gets a bit cool. Once I am up I take a stroll down a bit past the mechanics, rug makers, and carpenters, and visit my omelete guy who provides tea and omeletes for the local workers. Then, it is off on some ride to where ever. I spent a day visiting the Mughal gardens spotted around the lake which are famous because most were dedicated to the leaders wives. They are actually surprisingly interesting coming across these manicured parks with blooming flowers and trees everywhere and little creeks running through them. Another day was spent visiting the market and the old town with all it’s old wood plank buildings and temples. My most exciting day was a ride out to Sonamarg a little village right below a glacier and surrounded by snow. The exciting part came when my usual hard headed adventurerness kicked in and I kept going climbing the Zoji La which is the main blockage point for transport. The pass had opened to trucks and buses, but the people at the roads commission said that it would not be passable for a motorcycle for another month. I ended up passing Sonamarg as it is in its own valley and I wanted to get some photos of the totally snow capped area at the end of the valley. Once I got to the end of the valley I was stopped and had to sign in so I told the guy I was just going up a bit to get some photos. Well, the road did turn to dirt and rocks, and there were bits that were difficult because of the snow run off, and a couple of sketchy areas where they were bulldozing the road, and of course the ever present drop-off as the road is only wide enough for one vehicle (one direction goes in the morning while the other direction traffic crosses in the afternoon.) Well, actually, they put up a little memorial for a commander that died from an avalanche and it is visible as you are climbing so of course you have to go up there to see what it is, so in the end I crossed over and down the other side. Hell, I had just saved myself a return trip back down to Jammu and a roundabout to get to someplace a few hundred kilometers from the pass. I was exstatic as now I can keep going and make a loop rather than two ups and downs. On the bad side, I am totally unprepared as I have no cold weather gear. My fleece jacked did nothing for the sting of cold that comes from the 3500m crossing. Getting rained on the way back also facilitated a shopping day.

So, as I wrap this up, I am planning on making the run over the pass either tomorrow or the following day. I am hoping that a few extra kilos on the back of the bike will make it even more stable so I think everything should go fairly smooth. I did have a plug fouling problem but I met a Indian biker who was on vacation with his family and he gave me the suggestion of opeing up the gaps on the spark plugs to keep the carbon from collecting. I also had the points regapped and am going to bring a couple of extra sets of plugs just in case. Other than that, I am raring to go.

Photos of my Sonamarg run.

The good news is that I am still here and still getting free internet. The bad thing is that I will probably be taking off tomorrow morning to start heading towards the mountains.

I spent the morning getting Schwinn as fixed up as I can as the next leg is some serious biking and it could be downright dangerous if I get stuck up there in altitude. The only thing that is really left is that I have a slow oil leak that I can’t find and I need a shifter rubber. Beyond that, the Schwinn seems to be humming really well. We shall see.

The rest of the day I hit a few more tourist sites like the Mata Temple which is a adulterated labrynth of tunnels and caves which was turned into a temple honoring the female saint Lal Devi. Women wishing to get pregnant go there to pray. It was pretty cool wandering around ankle deep in water and climbing through little passage ways. It’s more like a fun house than an actual cave however. After that I went to see a supposedly impressive museum at the Summer Palace built by the Lion of Punjab, Maharaja Ranjit Singh. It however was closed for renovations so I checked out the panorama instead. After that I did the sunset at the Golden Temple. I will have to say that Amritsar has turned out to be my favorite Indian town (Arambol is not considered India.) The people, the Sikh religion, the temple all score very high with me. Another big plus is that there are not very many cows, goats, and animals in general roaming the streets. That in itself really helps to efficianize the city. Plus, you don’t get that cow shit smell with the droves of flies everywhere.

Spending the evening at the temple and just kicking back I noticed a few more things. They have priests inside the temple who do a continuous chant out of the Sikh Holy book. This is broadcast over the whole complex and really helps to put you in a relaxed state. There are also these little glass booths with I am guessing other priests dotted throughout the complex. They sit in the booths praying and the people come up and pray with them. In the evening it is really nice because the weather cools and many families and groups come to the temple to just stroll around or to sit by the waters edge and chat. It is extremely calming just sitting there people watching with this gleaming golden temple reflecting off the lake. A very spectacular site that I definitely prefer over the Taj.

So that is it for me. Tomorrow, I should be heading farther north to Jammu on my way to Srinigar and Dal lake where the claim to fame is houseboats. You go there, rent a room on a houseboat and just chill there for a few days. After that, depending on the road conditions I would like to try the road to Ley. I am a bit early so if it doesn’t open for a while I will have to come all the way back down go across and then head all the way back up again as there is the only one seasonal road that is open a couple months out of the year. So, that’s it for a bit.

Steve

Shots from the Mata Temple.

Sunset Golden Temple

This will be an updated list as things break, wear out, are stolen, or added. Hopefully it will be a short list. Add about $50R per litre for petrol and about 25 kms per liter. Biking it is not cheap, but I figure it would come out to about the same cost if I were to go Ac class on the train and took taxis to hotels and sites.

Prices are in Rupees. $40R = $1US

Bought the Enfield in Arambol, Goa.

$100R Arambol - Tail light screws (2), replaced all (4) signal light bulbs, brake light bulb (1), blinker switch, and hooked up all the wires so all lights are working correctly.

$250R Margao - Added lock kits to side compartments, spare light bulbs, grease nipple.

$225R Gokarna - Replaced gear box gasket and topped off oil.

$90R Hampi - Replaced speedometer cable

$300 Udaipur - Replaced front speedometer hub, replaced cable, rebuilt front brakes, wash job
$100 Udaipur - Replaced clutch lever and bracket (dropped Schwinn-bad day)
$40 Udaipur - Re-did wiring and connectors
$200 Udaipur - Replaced brake light switch and voltage gauge.

$30 Jodhpur - Added front brake wiring

$40 Pushkar - Added side handle
$10 Pushkar - Replaced clutch housing filler plug
$20 Pushkar - Welded/repaired kick stand bracket

$2200 Mathura - see breakdown
Clutch pack - 247
Rod - 25
Pin - 30
adjuster - 15
housing cover - 530
Clutch plate housing - 1050
Clutch seal - 37
Oil - 76
Foot peg rubber - 30

$400 Amritsar
Replace front spindle
Replace speedometer hub
Fix speedometer gauge
Replace speedometer cable
Replace clutch seal
Adjust chain
Repack gear box
Replace helmet visor screws
Replace rear signal light

Okay. First like usual. Mom, I’m still okay.

Judy- Got that e-mail about the dogsledding at your friends lodge. I will definitely have to give Alaska a try. Somewhere in between doing the vacation thing and dying out in the wilderness like in that movie (have not seen it yet but is movie # 215 that I have missed and will be spending a month catching up on, Unlimited Blockbuster rental membership if they still have that.) I am pretty sure I have not been there before, but my parents did drag me around a lot up their north wise, I just don’t remember how far we went. I just remember seeing dead Elk all over the sides of the roads in some piney area.

Marisa- I have grown a bit weary of the whole religious temples and ghats thing, but the bike really added some spice to my traveling. The freedom that it gives is like finding a McDonalds in a remote place. It was kind of like staying in that hostel where we met, just a touch of home in a foreign land.
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With the recommendation by Blog reader Acidspike, I made the 30 km. dash to the Pakistan/India border at Attari/Wagah. I had kind of idea what was going to happen, but I was not aware of how popular the event is with Indian tourists. There were probably about a thousand Indian tourists and about fifty foreigners. The whole thing was very commercialized from parking, vendor food stands, border guard guideing foot traffic, custom arena style seating (on both sides of the border), piped in “Who let the dogs out” Indian style sporting event music to get the people riled up, and a bunch of border Nazi’s (again Soup Nazi for Seinfeld) keeping everybody seated and jammed together. The actual event was about fifteen to twenty minutes and was mirrored on both sides with about 8 border guards dressed in their drill similar style drill outfits (although the Pakistani’s with their all black uniforms were much more intimidating looking), doing correographed high stepping, saluting, in your face marching. Even though foreigners are given front section seating, it is still kind of far from the actual border gate where the mutual performing goes off. Supposedly the guys go nose to nose for a bit, but without the actual pushing and shoving that happens in a beer bar. Once the dances are done, each side brings their flags down, the guys march away, and everybody makes a run for their vehicle. Overall, a nice event to round out the day.

And with free wireless internet in my room, bam, you get to see it first, same day. Just like CNN.

Thats me, right now, sending you almost live coverage. I picked up three big mangoes and a big bag of popcorn on the way home. The bag broke and I had to ride back with three big mangoes and a bag of popcorn shoved down my pants. Now I understand why tourists wear pajama pants. Those guys driving around in their convertible Porsches use a sock in their pants, not me on my Schwinn, fruit and popcorn, that gets the women looking.

I just took those photos like an hour ago. Now they are on my site and you are looking at them. Isn’t that incredible. Not a month later, not a week later, an hour. Now how is that possible? I am on someones wireless connection. How crazy is that. I have wireless internet in my room. This has to rank up there in the top ten great things that have happened to me in India. Well, it’s not bad for you too as you are getting up to the minute info.

Not only is the above a good thing, but wait there’s more. Now, between Delhi and Armitsar it’s a good 450-500 kilometers, so I ended up taking a break in a little transport hub called Ambala. After leaving the state of Delhi, I entered Haryana. Not too much to say as I was homping ass trying to make up the three hours I spent getting lost in Delhi (no signs). Now, once I crossed over into the state of Punjab, an amazing site mesmerized. No it wasn’t the Taj III (Taj II is located in Atlantic city and is a casino.) It was the Golden Arches. McDonald’s for those not in the cool set. Driving along the NH-1, someone brilliant built McDonalds every fifty kilometers or so. Holy fast food, I was a happy I got me a Mc Fishwich Meal and it was oh so good. Usually I cowboy up and just drive through stopping only for water or a soda. Not this time, it was Mickey D’s for me. Man, I got to write a letter to somebody, brilliant.

On arrival in Armitsar, I can give the city high marks. Sikh’s, the religious group have so far been the most congenial, welcoming group that I have met so far in India. Now, I personally don’t know much about the religion except for a few details, but what I have seen, they are about the only ones doing it right. I do have to give props to the guy who saved me when I pulled over into a dug out area and ended up falling to the left side of my bike while the bike was falling to the right. We ended up in this perfect position where I couldn’t touch the ground with my right leg to pull myself up, and because all my weight was already to the left, I couldn’t gain enough leverage to lift the bike back to center. I was stuck. The only thing I could do was shut the motor off while I figured out how I could get free and now drop the thing. All of a sudden, the bike lifted and I turned around and there was some guy who had run over and helped me out. Big thank you.

Other good things: People give honest hello’s. Not so much of a “hey I’m going to go say hi to that freak looking foreigner”, but an honest to goodness hello, kind of like when you visit small town USA. I was buying some mangoes (two a day) and this guy who had just bought his waited and watched to make sure I didn’t get over charged. He just did it out of goodness. The temple is Sikhisms holiest shrine, but they invite all religions to come and pray or just visit. It is not guarded by Ghat Nazis (ie. soup Nazi on Seinfeld), where guys are on a power trip. You do have to follow basic guidelines like wearing a head covering (free use ones available), shoes are left at an attendants area where you are given a token (free), and you must wash your feet in the walk through troughs placed at the enterance. Beyond that you are free to walk and mingle as much as you want. Now, talk about a great religion, but at the main temples, they also provide free food and housing to pilgrims and visitors. Even backpackers are welcome to stay there if there is room all for donations only. As you walk around the square marble walkway surrounding the tank, there are water stations at each corner where they serve you a bowl of cool, clean water. At the one end is a food station where you can get a bowl of dahl and chapatis, and when you actually visit the temple you get a little spoonful of sweets to which I am not sure if you are supposed to offer to the gods or give away, (I ate mine.) It is a straight up totally relaxing place to just chill out and do what ever you need to do. I met quite a few people that just gave a smile, said hello, or just wanted to shake hands. It felt really good to spend a few hours there. Tomorrow I will probably do a morning run and then possibly a sunset to see how it looks throughout the day. The only other thing of importance is that there is this pretty cool showdown between the Pakistan and Indian military at the border crossing 30kms out of town. I will probably do that the day after. Other than that, I have a nice clean room at the Tourist hotel, free internet, good food, nice people, beautiful places to visit, and overall a very refreshing place to hang for a few days.

I was not going to Delhi. I am running out of time, it’s getting too hot, I spent extra time and money in Jaipur recovering from Giardiasis, the Taj Mahal was my splurge, capital cities are expensive, the traffic is horrible, the backpacker zone is smack in the middle of the city, my friend Omri’s trip ended prematurely when he wrapped his leg and Enfield around a car in Delhi, I don’t care about temples, mosques, palaces, forts, etc., I want to rest somewhere not hot, dusty and crowded, and I just plain didn’t want to go.
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The Taj Mahal I think is the epitomy of what people think about when they hear “India”, well that and trash, but I already went into all of that. For me, it was a must do as there are a few things that I set as targets or as a “must do.” I guess it is the same for most people as it is hugely visited and the Indian government was smart enough to make it the most expensive ticket for a temple/palace/mosque/man made building. $750Rps or about $19US gets you an entry ticket, a half litre bottle of water, and some shoe coverings (so as not to scuff the tile.) To put it into perspestive, my hotel cost $150Rps a night. Of course India uses the two tier system for locals and foreigners so locals pay a more reasonable $20Rps. As I was saying, it was on a must see status, so I pushed hard the feeling of taking a few photos from the roof top restaurant and calling it a day. Besides, its the Taj Mahal.

If you want a more formal description, you can read about it here. Taj Mahal

A Steve quickie description is that it is a grand complex built by a Mughal Emperor in memorial for his wife. So, in reality it is a big beautiful Mausoleum. Surrounding the Taj are the minarets, a red sandstone mosque with an identical building on the other side being the Jawab. In front are putting green lawns with intricate built fountains and pools.

The central Taj structure is made of semi-translucent white marble, carved with flowers and inlaid with thousands of semiprecious stones in beautiful patterns.

I ended up deciding on doing an evening tour as getting up for sunrise is just out of the question. Unfortunately, security is really tight so you are only allowed to bring in your camera and a bottle of water. No bags and not even a book is allowed. I gave myself a few hours to wander around and get a feel for the place before sunset. Overall it was an okay evening of people watching and just contemplating life. There was no exciting sunset or special color changes so it wasn’t all that necessary to do a sunset except for the fact that it did take a little bit of the haze away for photos. Beyond that, I wouldn’t go again, but if your in India, I guess it is a must see.

After leaving Pushkar, well, before we leave Pushkar, I do have to add that I did do a few things which were a first for me. First, I did a puja down at the lake. This is basically having one of the Ghat priests take you down to the waters edge and perform a ceremony. Basically it entails a silver plate full of colored powders, offerings to the gods like coconuts, candy, flowers, incense, money, etc. He leads you through a prayer and you get to bless your family and motorcycle. All this for only $.50 a person and bike. The second new to me was that I had a shave at a barber shop/salon. Not earth shattering, but it was my first shave. They use a sort of straight edge (a tool like a straight edge, but it uses disposable razor.) It was actually pretty refreshing getting all lathered up, holding down the fears of the guy being someone you have pissed off earlier in the day who is going to slash your throat, and then the after facial massage with all the oils and smelly stuff. Not bad for $.25. Sure, nothing earth shattering, but still something unique.
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