Are We There Yet?

Jar Island and the Art of the Gwion Gwion

This morning’s excursion was one I know my sister Peggy would have truly enjoyed. Peggy is a great admirer of Native American pictographs and petroglyphs. The island of Jar was, a few thousand years ago, connected by land to the continent. The (now) island was a camping area for the indigenous people, including ancestors known as Gwion Gwion. (Until recently, this art was better known as Bradshaw art.) We visited two sites of art as old as 12,000 ago, as well as a burial site we were forbidden to photograph. (It is a rough pile of rocks.)

This was our first “wet landing,” where we exited the zodiacs into ankle-deep water (for just a step or two) along the beach. The art sites were a few hundred feet inland, located under overhangs and shallow caves, which protected them through the ages. Most of the remaining art is iron-based, red wine-hued pigments, which absorbed into the sandstone. Other colors, such as those based on charcoal are mostly gone except in well-protected environments.

The art is characterized by depictions of slender humans adorned with headdresses, tassels and sashes. There are also animals displayed. An internet search will produce spectacular photographs of the art, but I’ve included several of my own snapshots. Our visit was to only two of thousands of such sites.

We feel right at home on the Seabourn Pursuit. It really is identical to the Seabourn Venture of our Amazon expedition except for the artwork on the walls. At the end of a relaxing day at sea, punctuated with presentations and meals, we opened the bottle of Macallan and toasted our start to the exploration of the Kimberley.

King George River

The first stop was an excursion up the King George River. Half the passengers boarded zodiacs in the morning for a nine-mile ride up the river. The other half, including us, made the same trip in the afternoon. For our morning, we attended a briefing on the most interesting geology of the Kimberley and its 1.8 billion year old sandstone rock formations. At 1:30 p.m. it was our turn for the excursion. Our zodiac driver, Dannii, is an enthusiastic guide who knows and loves these waters well.

We’re nearly there. It’s 5:00 a.m. in the morning and we have been in a Darwin hotel room for all of three and a half hours now. Frances is sound asleep. I so envy her talent of putting head to pillow and falling immediately into dreamland. For me, not only do I have a difficult time attempting to nap in general, but adjusting to time changes is an excruciating process. Not a great missing skill set for someone who loves traveling—once I get to where we’re going.

Let me bring you up to date. I suspect the second half of this post will be written once we are on board the cruise ship.

Our rescheduled flight from San Francisco to Sydney went well. In fact, a last-minute change in our assigned seats gave us seats close together. Not the ideal side by side arrangement but close enough to use sign language to communicate.

It was a good thing we changed our flight from Sydney to Darwin from the morning flight to the 11:00 p.m. one. That theoretical 90 minutes we might have had from an on-time arrival at the international terminal to our Quantas jet in the domestic terminal would have taken the full 90 minutes if everything had gone perfectly. There were Australian customs and immigration to pass through, a checked bag to retrieve, a walk to the terminal 3 Quantas counter, then a bus ride to the actual terminal and departure gate. We would not have made it.

So what to do with the thirteen hours before the flight to Darwin. We again checked our bag with Quantas and walked back to the international terminal, hoping to talk the United agent into getting us back inside the gate area with access to their lounge. That the agent could not do—but she went one better. We were given a room for our use in the airport hotel (Rydges) plus vouchers for two meals each. Rydges’ food offerings would not impress anyone, but it is three steps up from the airplane fare we had just endured, and we both got several hours of sleep. Well, one of us a bit more than the other.

As with the previous two flights, the Quantas agent worked some magic to get seats for us together on the plane. Unlike Brian and Karen McKenna, who had taken our previously scheduled morning flight, we had good knee room. We were afraid that the three kids in the row directly behind us would be an annoyance, but they were not. At least, not as nearly an annoyance as was the crying kitten in the carrier across the aisle from us on our Austin to San Francisco flight on Alaska Airlines several days ago.

We were surprised as to how crowded the Darwin airport was at 1:00 a.m. Apparently, many flights, both domestic and international, arrive and depart late in the evening in this town.

We used Uber for our fifteen-minute ride to the Ramada Inn, where we are as I write this. The cost of the uber was twice the sample quote I got when I checked earlier in the day—over $60. That’s Australian dollars, thank goodness, so closer to $40 US. On the plus side, we waited less than 60 seconds for our ride to arrive. This might be the third straight uber driver named Mohammed we’ve had.

Purely by coincidence, our hotel is the same one we stayed at in our COVID-ducking Australia trip the spring of 2020. We were expected to call the night manager to get into the hotel, but he was just outside the hotel when we arrived. We’ll not be using the free-drinks coupon (which I gave to another lodger) nor enjoying the top floor view. Brian, who with Karen, got to the hotel late morning, checked out what we paid for the room per night in March of 2020: $68 (I assume in US dollars). This time we’re paying about $200 a night US. Now that’s inflation, plus the weakness of the U.S. dollar of late.

Frances is waking up, so I’ll end it here. At some point I know I’ll have a major crash due to insufficient sleep, but here’s to hoping it happens in a comfortable bed in our suite on board the Seabourn Pursuit, just after a few sips of single-malt scotch, served neat.

Wordle

A little aside. Frances and I, every day, jointly pursue several on-line word games, including Wordle, Quardle and Octordle, as well as NYT’s Connections and the WSJ crossword (and often the NYT’s puzzle). We’ve done this for years. The challenge isn’t the puzzles. We haven’t failed to solve Wordle correctly in years. The problem is daily access on trips. Once, in fact, we had to pick up a very weak Zambian cell service to play the game (we were in Zimbabwean waters at the time). Nevertheless, we have had successful streaks over 500 days long. But there was no way around the problem of July 23. The day did not exist for us, thanks to crossing the international date line in route to Australia. It’s back to a one-day streak for all our games. Definitely a 1st world problem. 😁

It’s winter in Australia, but Darwin is tropical, so the weather is still warm (high 80’s daytime) and very humid. With a light breeze stirring the air this morning, we had a delightful breakfast (OK, a late breakfast) on the restaurant’s patio, overlooking the bay, “Frances Bay,” as it turns out.

The Seabourn Pursuit

We’re on board! The Pursuit is an “expedition ship”, meaning a ship designed to go into exotic waters (polar regions, for instance) and equipped with zodiacs plus submarines (and in some instances helicopters). This is our second Seabourn cruise and our fourth on an expedition ship. The Pursuit is a sister ship to the Seabourn Venture, the one we cruised with last year to visit the Amazon. As with that trip, the submarines will not be deployed.  We feel like we’re in familiar territory in terms of deck plans and services. We have already been greeted (in one of the restaurants), by a familiar wait staff member, Alexander. He immediately recognized us, we hope for positive reasons.

The Pursuit accommodates 268 passengers, and I believe we are near capacity. This surprised us for reasons I’ll mention later in this posting. There are 124 crew members plus 24 on the expedition staff, who are naturalists and other specialists, with a secondary skill of zodiac pilots.

On this first evening on board we and the McKenna’s were invited to dine with two of the expedition staff, along with four other passengers, all New Zealanders. It was an enjoyable first supper. I ordered prime rib, which came perfectly cooked (rare/medium rare).

But, mostly, I want to tell you about our cabin, although that is a most modest description of our accommodations. So, once again, I’ll drag you back into the too-much-detail mode.

When we and the McKennas first signed up for this cruise, we were able to secure an unusually large discount for the voyage, a result of problems with our Amazon cruise (which, to reiterate, was still a fantastic experience). We had reserved a concierge suite, the basic, i.e. cheapest, accommodation on the ship. About a month ago, we were offered a relatively inexpensive upgrade to a penthouse suite. We bit. Then, two weeks ago, we received another email offering a surprisingly inexpensive upgrade to the second largest suite on board. We jumped at this offer, beating the McKennas to the punch. (They were in the wilds of Alaska at the time.) There was also an offer for the very largest cabin, the Signature Suite. While a decent discount offer, we passed. The Owner’s Suite already was really large. We dared the McKennas to pursue the Signature Suite. Brian who 1) loves to win any one-upmanship contest with others, and especially me, and 2) knows how to negotiate, talked Seabourn into a further discount. They are now ensconced in the Signature Suite. We are at the front of the ship, just under the bridge. The McKenna’s are aft, overlooking the stern. Their dining table is slightly larger than ours, so we’ll be hounding them for an in-suite dinner invitation.

What we don’t understand in this upgrade process is that we are only second time cruisers with Seabourn and, for the McKennas, this was their first. Yet those we ate with last night were apparently not sent the upgrade offers. Go figure. Being in the Owner’s Suite on an ocean-going ship is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and we will enjoy it.

Our first full day is a sea day, filled with a several optional events and one mandatory one, so I hope to get this posted soon. I promise that from now to the end of the cruise, the posts will feature the purpose of the voyage, a visit to the remarkable Kimberly region of Australia. Please come along.

It’s back to Australia! But first, let’s open with a chorus of:

“Well did they ever return, no they never returned, And their fate is still unlearned…”

Most my readers are old enough to appreciate this pluralized reference. Frances and I currently are resting in United’s SFO lounge. We’re supposed to be in Sydney preparing for a flight to Darwin, where we’ll be boarding the good ship Seabourn Pursuit and starting a ten day adventure exploring the Kimberley of northwest Australia. We’re still hoping to get to Darwin before it sets sail. But more on that portion of the trip when and if we finally board.

Also on this trip we have a reservation on the Indian Pacific Railroad, which will take us from Perth across the country and continent to Sydney. This will complement our train trip on the “Ghan” from Darwin to Adelaide of February of 2020. We’ll again be joined by Brian and Karen McKenna, who are already in Sydney and soon in route to Darwin. In all, we should be gone more than three weeks, assuming, of course, we get to Australia and eventually get back home.

I include a few teaser photos from the internet on our coming trip:

Why the pessimism? Wellllll, glad you asked. This has been a “if it can go wrong, it will go wrong” kickoff to the trip. We consider ourselves relatively seasoned travelers but, to be honest, I made several poor decisions at the outset. For instance, for international trips, we almost always attempt to arrive a day or more early to both adjust to the fatigue of a long flight and to build in a cushion should the trip over have problems. This time, for reasons that escape me, I didn’t do this. Second, almost never do I book our flights using a third party agent unless the service is provided by the trip or cruise company. I did use a third party this time, thinking I was saving a tidy amount on business class fares. But, mostly, we’ve learned that the software that rules airline itineraries can’t handle some situations and stubbornly fights corrections.

The actual trip started well. Our good friend Lee Saage drove us to the airport with plenty of time to spare. Then the fun started.

Actually, it all started with our original flight plans to and from Sydney, Australia, booked by Arangrant (a business class flight third party vendor). The flights looked great, a flight from Austin to Vancouver, with a reasonable layover in that city, then a flight from there to Sydney. The return was a reverse of the itinerary.

Then, argh, Air Canada cancelled the Austin to Vancouver and the Vancouver to Austin legs. We were then rebooked on, get this, a flight from Austin to Toronto to Vancouver, which added more than half a day to an already long trip. Our protests to the vendor fell on deaf ears. The company’s arrangement with Air Canada didn’t allow non-Air Canada changes. Hence I called Air Canada directly. The agent was happy to give us a new routing, through Denver in both directions (between Austin and Vancouver). Three of the four legs were to be on United, including the initial Austin to Denver hop and both legs from Vancouver to Denver to Austin on the return. So far, so good. Except, apparently, the flights were entered in the wrong order. And that is where the problems started.

First, we could not check in online. The United site declared we had to check in through Air Canada. Air Canada said we had to check in via United.  Phone calls to both companies resolved nothing and both said “The tickets are good, check in at the airport.” Except, at the airport, the agent couldn’t check us in either. A half-hour of calls between the agent and someone on the other end at least got us boarding passes. (We belatedly discovered our Global Entry/TSA pre-check pass numbers had been omitted. It’s been a while since we’ve gone through the strip search line, although, much to my surprise, belts and shoes off is no longer de rigueur).

We boarded and the plane began taxing for takeoff—then returned to the gate. Here began the hateful delays, twenty-minute chunk by twenty-minute chunk—until we would certainly miss our Denver connection. (The flight was eventually cancelled.) United then wanted to send us on a flight to Houston to stay the night there, then catch flights from Houston to San Francisco to Sydney the next day. Then, unexpectedly, they booked us on a late night flight (from Austin directly to San Francisco) on Alaska Airlines, which was dealing with its own system wide set of delays due to IT problems. Alaska Airlines very nicely asked another passenger to move to allow Frances and I to sit together. When we arrived about 1:00 a.m. in San Francisco, we were comped by United with a hotel room near SFO and food vouchers.

Didn’t seem United coordinated with Air Canada, though.

This morning I checked both the United site and Air Canada Site for our flight status. Air Canada had cancelled our entire remaining itinerary, specifically our return flights from Australia. Why? We were no-shows for the Denver to Vancouver flight. A long and panicky call to Air Canada restored the Sydney to Vancouver flight on August 14 and we were rebooked on a flight directly from Vancouver to Austin. There will be a half day wait in the Vancouver lounge, but by now that seems a minor inconvenience. Our seats are not together, but we’ll deal with that, if we can, in a few weeks.

So all is set now? Alas, not quite. After arriving in Sydney we were to stay the night at a nearby hotel and then catch a Quantas flight from Sydney to Darwin in the morning. Another argh here. We would now have less than 90 minutes after arriving in Sydney on the United flight to clear customs and immigration, collect our one checked bag and get to the domestic terminal for the Darwin flight. (A separately-booked ticket, of course.) Quantas told me that should we not make the flight, we would be declared no-shows and forfeit the fare. A new ticket for any new flight would be extremely expensive. (Yes, we had caught a good deal with our original reservation.) So we have changed our Sydney to Darwin reservation to a flight that arrives at 12:45 a.m. the next morning. Who needs sleep? We’ve cancelled our Sydney hotel (and instead spend 13 hours in the Sydney airport), and informed the Darwin hotel of our planned very late arrival. Assuming we make it to the ship as scheduled, I suspect the first day, being a sea day, will be one to collapse and recover our wits.

Our flight out of San Francisco is scheduled for 11:00 p.m. tonight. We have our boarding passes and the wine in the lounge is quite satisfactory. I’m absolutely sure everything from now on will go just perfectly—with hopes we can cajole some passenger into swapping seats. Maybe if I tell the person in the seat beside me that I snore.

We said goodbye to Bandhavgarb and its hidden tigers and again drove in a convoy of eight SUVs and the Queen Mary to the Jabalpur airport. It was a four-hour trip, just as bumpy as the trip into Bandhavgarb, but slightly less exciting. Either that or we were getting used to the kamikaze driving style of Indians. The Jabalpur airport is quite modern. After several hours there we boarded our IndiGo flight to the city of Mumbai. (All our flights within India and between India and Nepal were on this airline. The two flights within Nepal were on an airline called Buddha.)

Mumbai

During our coach ride into the city the local guide gave us a continuing dialogue about the city. Our first impression is this city of 23 million people was all skyscrapers and slums from horizon to horizon. Nearly a quarter of the population live in abodes classified as slums. This is not a derogatory term, if I understood the guide correctly, just an honest description of the living conditions.  A surprising number of the slum dwellings have satellite dishes, which cost (again, if I heard correctly) about $4 a month for service. And virtually all of them have electricity. In fact, nearly every urban dwelling and small village in India is now connected to the electrical grid, a major initiative of the prime minister, Modi. Further, in Mumbai, the electricity bill is paid on time and in full by everyone, as registration for this service provides proof of legal residence.

We had one stop in route to our hotel. This was to view the city’s laundry industry, which employs 7,000 workers. (I wanted to but failed to ask what happened when the monsoons arrived.)

Our lodging for the next day and a half was in another Oberoi property. A modern, very Western hotel, the Oberoi Mumbai was the least interesting of our hotels during this visit to India and Nepal. No matter, as we would be spending but one full night here.

Our next morning was a mixed walking and coach tour of the heart of Mumbai. The city is quite different from Delhi (which has 33 million residents!). Mumbai is a prosperous seacoast town and is the financial, commercial and entertainment (think Bollywood) capital of India. The city has the most billionaires of any city in Asia.

And unlike our impression of Delhi and Agra, Mumbai has embraced its British era history, preserving and using the structures and facilities built in those times. The speed of the pitch is impressive. We passed more than one cricket field and exclusive club in our tour.

Mumbai, by the way, was the historical name in the local Marathi language for the city before its occupation by the Portuguese in 1534. Bombay was given to the English in 1661 as a dowry gift when Charles II married Catherine of Braganza of Portugal. Bombay, the city’s name, was derived from Portuguese for “good little bay”, as it has a fine harbor. In 1996, the city was officially renamed Mumbai, although Bombay is still frequently used.

Home

After our tour the tour group met for a final party. It was a good group to travel with, on time and friendly. Then it was off to the airport for our 2:15 a.m. flight home. All but the McKennas left that evening/early morning. Seven, in fact, were on our British Airlines flight to London Heathrow. Brain and Karen left the next evening. The elapsed time from departing our hotel to arriving home was 32 hours. Not fun, especially as we were not flying business class. If at all possible, this is the last time Frances and I fly in a lesser class than business for any overseas trip. It’s just too hard on our bodies.

We had one surprise on our return. Our kitchen and hallway floors were flooded. Life stays interesting.

Closing Comments

As should be obvious from all my postings, the pace of this trip was demanding. We’re glad we did it, of course. The Himalayas, the Taj Mahal, the mass cremations, the Hindu temples, the national parks—it all was an exceptional experience. (We really wish we had spotted a tiger, though.) So, if you are considering such a trip, do it while you have health and energy.

This was our first trip with Tauck, a travel company with a deservedly good reputation. The trip was well organized, the lodging mostly exceptional, and the itinerary excellent. We would certainly travel with Tauck again, although, as you may surmise, we might consider a slightly less aggressive schedule.

Future Trips

We were going to fly to Sacramento this weekend, both to visit our grandchildren and attend a dedication for my sister Jane, who passed away two years ago and is much missed by family and the community, but we need to find the water leak and start mitigation. In May we are going to Ft. Worth to again attend part of the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition.

But two significant trips await us this summer and fall, trips I’ll likely blog. The first is a return to Australia, where we will both explore the Kimberley by excursion ship and zodiac. The Kimberley is the northwest coastline of Australia that we have not yet been able to visit. Then we will be taking a train trip on the Indian-Pacific from Perth to Sydney. We’ll again travel with Brian and Karen McKenna. (You can join in the debate: Is it "the Kimberley", "the Kimberleys", "Kimberly"?)

Barely two weeks after returning from Australia, we head to Mongolia, then China, with a few days in Tibet! This will be a thirty-day affair that will again test our stamina.

Until then, thanks for reading. Be well and see you in Australia!

We have arrived at Mauna Kothi, near the village of Tala in the district of Umbria, our home for the next three nights. It’s located on the edge of the Bandhavgarh National Park. We’re scheduled for five safaris, each lasting four or more hours in duration. The first was the afternoon of our arrival. There are two more scheduled for each of the following days, beginning at 6:00 a.m. and 2:45 p.m. We’re to see many of India’s animals, but mostly we hope to spot the India tiger, the star of the forest. The previous tour had nine sightings.

But first some words on our lodging. the Mahua Kothi is an excellent accommodation with twelve large, roomy cabins, of which we occupied ten. (There are eight couples in our tour group plus two single women.) All our meals are served in the main facility which is open to the fields and forest adjacent. The meals are excellent if, as always, way too plentiful. When will I ever learn moderation in eating? Never, while the food is so good, I suspect. On the other hand, when we return we’ll skip having chicken for a while. With no beef or pork on the menus, only an occasional fish or lamb offering breaks the consistency of chicken as the only alternative to a vegetarian diet—for which we often opted. (Oops, while writing this in a car we swerved around a herd of cattle, most of whom are lying in the road. Being sacred has given the cattle a sense of entitlement. The monkeys in the road, by contrast, jump out of the way.)

So on to the safaris and our search for tigers.

Safari 1

The park is divided into three sections. This first afternoon, we travel section 1. The terrain is a mix of forest, hills and occasional open fields, many of which were village areas before their removal when the national park was established. We passed watering holes often visited by the animals. The park has rough-hewn trails of dirt and rock that are often a challenge even for the four-wheel drive safari vehicles that are our transports.

We were told that the odds of viewing a tiger any single four-hour safari was 25%. That means (using my ancient math training) we have a 76% probability of spotting a tiger at least once in the five scheduled safaris.

Getting into the park is a great example of the petty bureaucracy that infuses Indian officialdom. We had to show our passports to enter the park and details from the passports are carefully recorded. Everything is manual and recorded on paper, even to the point that our safari vehicle driver hands the lodge gate guard a slip of paper when we return. (This is in contrast to the street venders, all of whom accept electronic payment.)

We’re assigned a vehicle for the duration of our stay, driven by a lodge naturalist. Ours was Kul. For each safari, we were also assigned a park “spotter” who, as far as we could tell, spotted nothing. Of our four vehicles, two were assigned to six of us each, one to a group of four and one to a single couple, dictated by the national park administrators. Changing vehicles or even dismounting a vehicle at any time was forbidden. With the roads and lack of toilet facilities, it was a challenge for those with small bladders. (There was one rest stop each safari, but none with western toilets.)

Our safari ended with a downpour worthy of being labeled a monsoon. We found out our rain jackets are water resistant and not waterproof. As it is not yet (officially) monsoon season, I surely understand why safaris end when the  monsoons arrive. There were rumored sightings of tigers, but none were seen by us.

Instead, that evening before dinner we viewed a film on tigers.

Tigers 1; Visiting Team Yankees 0. (OK, we have one Canadian in our group.)

Safari 2

With flashlights we made our way to breakfast and then to our safari vehicle, number 191. Kul was ready to go. Our search this morning was in area 3.

There was one rumor of a tiger spotting, but again no one in our tour group saw one. (Our four vehicles would go in different directions but we’d often encounter one another.)

Tigers 2; Yankees 0

Safari 3

It was the turn of area 2 to be visited. It is the largest of the three areas, with some beautiful scenery. On the far side of the park boundary were agricultural fields. We were told these areas would eventually be incorporated into the park.

Oddly, tiger sighting rumors were for fields just outside the park entrance. We stopped to look for a while, but were unsuccessful in our search.

Tigers 3; Yankees 0

The return to our lodge passes through the village. All the drivers speed as fast as they can even through the busy main street. (It’s a one-street village.) Thanks to the previous day’s downpour, the facility that was to be used for the evening’s entertainment was water-soaked, so the venue was moved to the parking lot area.

Safari 4

It was back to area 1 for our morning safari. The sun rose a bright red as we traveled to it. We observed a few new animals and birds, but no tigers. 

We were getting a bit anxious about the odds of spotting a tiger. We’ve one more chance.

Tigers 4; Yankees 0

Safari 5

Kul worked hard to maximize our chances in this revisit to area 3. We did get to view a couple of animals new to us, but a sense of fatalism slowly enveloped us. We didn’t leave the park until precisely its closing time, 6:30 p.m., and even in the dusk, as we drove back to our lodge, Kul kept scanning the fields for a possible tiger sighting, even while driving and ducking cattle. But we mighty Casey’s had struck out.

Tigers 5; Yankees 0

T’was not to be, not for us or any in our tour group. We were told the “problem” was the rain of the first afternoon. Following a downpour, tigers have less inclination to wander or to visit watering holes. I won’t claim to not be disappointed, but in the greater scheme of things, it’s a minor setback.

We are now on our way to Mumbai (Bombay to the old-timers). It’s four hours of ducking cattle and motorbikes in the SUVs followed by a two-hour flight from Jabalpur to Mumbai. During the security screening at the Jabalpur airport, for the first time ever, the wand wielder picked up the titanium on my back.

This trip is nearing its end.

Our train trip lasted five hours. The cabin was comfortable and the knee room generous. We were at the opposite end of the car from the crying child, so all was well. For the first two-thirds of the trip we averaged a speed in the high 70’s mph. The last third was slightly slower with the more familiar clickity-clack we associate with the U.S. rail system. Both breakfast and lunch service were offered, but on the advice of our tour leader we stuck with the box lunches provided to us by the hotel at departure. The landscape for most of the trip was rural, reminding me that much of India remains rural (nearly 2/3rds the population) with most of people dedicated to agriculture. There was no internet unless one wanted to try a movie.

We were on a limited express train with only two stops between Agra and our destination, the small town (by India standards) of Khajuraho. In Khajuraho, we were greeted by eight SUVs with drivers, with two or three of us assigned to each SUV. We had two. This was our transport for the next 24 hours, but the first leg, from the station to our hotel was a short ride.

The hotel is the most modest of our lodging so far, but adequate for the night. The shower worked fine, so we were happy. From our room we could see the top of one of the temples, our reason for this stop. That afternoon we visited the site of many if the temples.

The Temples of Khajuraho

In a word, the temples are spectacular in architecture and detail. A Wikipedia search will give a great overview, but I’ll add a few comments to go along with the photos. Built between 885 and 1029, these Hindu (and a few Jain) temples once numbered 85 structures. Time and destruction have reduced that number to twenty five, or twenty-two by some counts. The saving grace for the temples is that Khajuraho is in a remote area. In the 13th century, the Delhi-based Mughal dynasty conquered the area and destroyed and defaced many of the temples. Yet, thanks to the remoteness of the region, many survived only to be swallowed up by the jungle. Other than by locals, the temples were forgotten and not rediscovered until 1838 by a British engineer.

I’ll show a few more of the temples. Wikipedia has all their names.

Back at the hotel, our dinner was a buffet. Frances took green beans from the salad buffet—except they weren’t green beans, they were hot peppers, very hot peppers. She but a forkful in her mouth and chewed. Let’s just say that this was it for her dinner. 

After a quick night’s sleep, it was bags out at 6:00 a.m. We loaded into our respective SUVs and started our wild five and a half hour ride to our next destination, Bandhavgarh National Park. And wild is a a modest term for the experience, a 250 minute long “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride”, with constant games of chicken by the entire convoy with on-coming traffic, passing cattle, goats and people in the middle of the roadway, navigating roads under construction, passing vehicles that were themselves in the act of passing, and, well, you get the point. Nevertheless, we all arrived intact. One novelty? There are no restrooms to stop at in route, so a toilet van followed us and was used by the women during the two stops. The van has the nickname of the Queen Mary. The men, of course, watered a nearby tree.

So here were are at the Taj Safari resort, ready to look for tigers. 

We’re on a five-hour train trip from Agra to an intermediate stop-over at Khajuraho. This will be a one-night stay but we’ll get to tour the temples of Khajuraho, a UNESCO world heritage site. Next will be an equally long ride in SUVs to Bandhavgarh, where we will begin two and half days of safaris in the national park. This trip was advertised as a tour of northern India and Nepal, but a third of the trip is better described as a visit to sights in central India.

Our reaction on the trip thus far is mixed, or rather split in our respective opinions. Frances and I agree on the magnificent sights we have (and will) see, and safaris are always a joy. However, the crowds, the traffic, the pollution, and the glimpses of poverty bother Frances greatly. The child beggars are nerve racking for her, especially when they approach her directly. Somehow I am less concerned with the chaotic traffic flows and roiling crowds and, while keenly conscious of the poverty, am  otherwise intrigued with the colors and dynamism of this society. It doesn’t help that Frances has been fighting a mild cold. I have my fingers crossed that I avoid that fate.

We both agree that the pace of this trip leaves little time for relaxing. We’re envious, when given a few hours “off”, that many in the tour party go shopping or exploring while we rest and recharge. (This time, typically, is when I compose my blog postings.) As we say too often, youth is wasted on the young, or at least the younger.

This doesn’t mean that those finishing their eight decade or older shouldn’t take this trip. My sister and brother-in-law, for instance, I know would love this journey and our travel companions, the McKennas, have admirable stamina. We’re all different in health and attitudes.

Back to the train trip. One of our fellow travelers forgot to empty her hotel room safe so our bus to the rail station returned to the retrieve her items. We made it to the station platform about five minutes before our train arrived. Hint (that I confess I don’t follow), put one shoe in the safe to ensure you don’t forget to empty it. 

We were not lucky in our seat assignment, having a pillar block much of our view, but perhaps another seat will come open farther along on the journey. We have not yet arrived at the more scenic portion of this journey anyway. On the other hand, we’re far away from a crying baby.

Our guides thus far have all been excellent although I struggle, with my hearing problem, to catch all they say. Indian accented English is particularly a challenge for me. Our tour leader, Sidd (Siddhartha), gets high marks from most of the tour group but we find him less than clear, concise and timely in the information he provides. A meeting time, for instance, may be documented as, say 6:30 p.m. in the written itinerary but he’ll announce it as 6:00 p.m. in the middle of longer lecture. Nevertheless, we have only been late for one event.  Non-fatal. Beyond this, however, the tour is well administered, especially concerning tickets and reservations, for which Sidd gets full credit.

That is enough “thoughts” for now.

With apologies, I inflict this posting on only my registered blog followers and will spare my readers who access the blog via Facebook. For my next post I promise it’s back to pictures! 

Two of the more iconic reasons to visit India are to visit the Taj Mahal and to observe tigers in the wild. One down.

I left you in a mountain resort in Nepal, with us enjoying massages and Nepalese cuisine. The night before we left we were treated to a singing (or healing) bowl demonsration and a cooking demonstration. The dumplings made during the latter were delicious.

We paid the price the next day, spending all that day first being driven to Kathmandu, then flown to Delhi and finally driven to Agra and our next lodging. That twelve hour ordeal, despite its length and administrative hassles, delivered us on time (9:00 p.m.) to our next hotel, the Oberoi Amarvilas, in Agra. Consistent with all our lodging so far, the hotel is beautiful. Our hotel room is back to “normal” in size, but we have a view of the Taj Mahal in the distance from our suite window. The one downside is that while our late supper meal was preordered, the restaurant mismanaged the affair. We and several others of the group waited nearly an hour for our appetizers to arrive (one of which was wrong). We were then so tired that we cancelled our main course. Patrons at an adjacent table took pity on us and shared a pizza with us. We’ll not starve.

The Taj Mahal

Our first event the next morning? The Taj Mahal, of course. Many know the basic story. Mughal emperor Shah Jahan had the mausoleum built as the tomb for his beloved wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who died giving birth to their 14th child. Construction began in 1632 and the mausoleum completed in 1648, with other construction in the complex continuing for another five years.

The white marble structure is marvelous in pictures but is something that must be seen in person to fully appreciate. And as grand in size and architecture as is the mausoleum, the detail work is also impressive.

The Agra Fort

After a brief return to the hotel we headed to the Agra Fort. Besides being a fortification that housed 6,000 or so soldiers, servants and family, the fort was the royal residence and government center for emperors. The present day structure was built in the 16th century. There is a mile and a half of walls and the grounds occupy 94 acres. Part of the fort is still used by the Indian military.

Our Thali Dinner

For the evening, the women in the group were all dressed in saris while the men sported turbans (wrapped on our heads by a turban “master”). From there we were escorted outside for a traditional Thali meal—all this while being entertained by two Indian dancers and two musicians. A thali meal features small portions of several different dishes. Much to my surprise, the meal was very bland, much too dumbed down for my taste, without a hint of spices. The wine was good though.

There is another travel day tomorrow. We are taking the train in the morning. No, we’re not riding on the roofs. However, our luggage is being sent ahead so we’re living out of our backpacks for a night and a day.

Now where are those tigers! 

Bakhtapur

The medieval town of Bakhtapur is the third UNESCO world heritage site we have visited in Kathmandu Valley. It’s a stunning, compact collection of temples and pavilions. Our guide described each temple and monument, but little of the detail sunk in. No matter, it was all impressive. Bakhtapur was the capital of Kathmandu Valley from the 12th century through the 15th, when  the valley divided into three kingdoms. Most of the temples date from the 1700’s. (Pur, in Nepalese, is a suffix for town or city.) As has become customary for me this trip, I’ll throw a lot of pictures into this posting in lieu of helpful dialogue.