Tripping Out Alone

The village around the Fort Palace has benefitted in some way from the renovation of the Fort into a world class resort. People from the village are employed there and the owners have built a hospital for the village as well as contributing to the general economy through trickle down tourism. However the village is rustic and crumbling, and still clings to ancient traditions, women do not venture out uncovered, if at all and it is the men who do all the business, all the time.

There is one site outside the Fort for toursits that winds through the village, the Step Well, an enormous structure, at one time built to deliver water to the fort and village during the droughts so regular in Rajasthan. Fallen into disrepair and with very little water the structure is a testament to the architecture and political sensibilities of the previous rulers of the area. Moghul and Roman influences in the arches are blended with a traditional Rajasthani tier system of steps and corridors. Today it is a cool place for the young ment to hang out and home to flocks of pigeons..There is no safety rail, no danger signs, no take care notices...no liability signs..nothing. Just boys, pigeons and goats...

It turned out that our room was directly beside the main walkway for staff, on our first morning I was greeted by a parade of waiters making their way to serve breakfast.

We are given a room in the old harem quarters..it is pretty, set between the courtyard and the modern addition and with a small efficient bathroom in which to wash off the layers of dust. The Fort is magnificent at night, dripping with vines, cracked and worn with age and set far above the highway there is a momentary peacefulness as a sliver of moon cruises across the silk soft sky..words of poetry and the silent notes of ancient love songs hang in the air until shattered by the commencement of the village festivities below..entering the ninth day of a festival that culminates in Diwali the excruciating pain of Rama, exiled, is megaphoned into the night through a shrieking public address system that drives the sound into the ancient walls of the fort with more success than many previous invaders... It's night we have arrived and our hosts await us in the village.

India confronts..that's for sure..life -death- weirdness and wonder, it is all out there and on the Jaipur Highway at dusk it crowds in on you as in the gloaming approach to darkness wraiths of nothingness and shapes of living scuttle across the path..Dust moulds ghostly shapes that hurtle alongside the moving vehicles..trucks of extra ordinary length and maleable fragility trundle ahead blinded by oncoming beams and deficient in lights of their own, their true size and shape only apparent as the car you travel in squeezes between and on and through past articulations of carriages that wobble and wander across lines and margins. Then out of the darkness real humans cross traffic lanes on unlit bicycles, with bales and baskets piled on heads, wrapped in constricting saris they cross their rural plain bisected by the nightmare of mechanised mayhem that India refers to as progress... Oh the terrifying nature of it, the joy of survival against the odds, the carcasses of upturned an...

Images from my first morning in Nizamuddin East...

It was on a whim I decided to visit Cushla in New Delhi and travel with her to Rajasthan. The ticket on Air Asia was just above 400US$ and although I forgot a number of crucial things, like the visa cost $100US and that the Commonwealth Games were on it seemed liked a good thing to do in the one week mid term break. I hadn't been to Delhi in over twenty years and any return to India was always going to be a bit of an emotional step into the heart of my past, so to find Delhi , in the midst of the Commonwealth Games, empty of major traffic, clean and , dare I say almost orderly was something of a shock! But it was ok, underneath the facade lies the typical chaos, things look good, but they don't really work and that feels more like home to me. Based in Cushla's beautiful airy apartment in Nizamuddin East and with a plan to drive out to Rajasthan this afternoon, I can enjoy the sensation of being again in this wonderfully confronting and beautiful country where even a trip t...

After arriving home to Bali and attending Made and Kemal's wedding I put Bella on a plane to New York City..and tracking her till she arrived I spent two days attached to Personal World Clock and Flight Tracker..but then.. I got on a plane to Padang, West Sumatra and spent four days enjoying the most amazing food, lush scenery and stimulating company. I went there to observe the efforts of a Bali based NGO who are providing media support to the areas most affected by the quake..check out my story at Gaia Magazine for more below. and shortly I hope to have a tourism story published, West Sumatra is a stunning part of the world..check out the photos! Now I am back at school and while I stay still friends from all over are visiting..and I do mean all over L.A, Phnom Penn, East Timor and Woolongong! www.gaiadiscovery.com/latest-places/restoring-hope-in-survivors-of-padang-earthquake-through-mus.html

The evening with Lilli could not have been finer, she is an excellent cook, serves a beautiful meal with delicious wine and is a great host..she inspired me, as did her home and her kitchen implements! The next morning I was off at six am through the already bustling streets in a taxi to the airport. Check in was fine, plane arrived on time, sat next to a lovely man, a teacher from Belgium, who made me focus less on the stress of the connecting flight..which despite the luggage taking ages and getting into a bit of panic I made in plenty of time. Bella exhausted and happy was there too and we boarded our flight, as planned all along, to return to Bali after our individual adventures. We were headed straight for the taxi booth when the open arms of Stuart embraced us both and before we knew what was happening we were being chaperoned out of the chaos of the airport, into his car and off to dinner at Kaizan! A fine welcome home indeed, only to be almost matched by the sheer excitement of...

Last evening in Hanoi, or so I thought.. I happily took off for my last evening in this beautiful city, taking in the lake at sunset, St Joseph's Cathedral, a great revolutionary poster shop and figured to drop in La Place which has a great write up in the LP..but no atmosphere, not great service but fantastic floors! This is a long story and I'll try to make it short. I ordered a snack and a drink and shortly a man sat nearby, an Australian, who wanted to know too much about the beer he was ordering, so we struck up a conversation. I thought he was weird, and also he complained a lot, and then he launched into a talk about hookers, pedophiles and all the sleazy aspects of life..he was actually a lawyer. I decided not to entertain him for long and quickly finished up and left. Thinking to myself about how people create their own experiences, and considering the lady at breakfast who when arriving to find no breakfast berated the hotel, where when I arrived, I apologized for bei...