Thursday, August 30, 2007

Travis of Arabia

Last you heard I was heading off to the desert in Jordan. Well I made it back out... just.

The Bedouin Tribes of Jordan, as seen in Lawrence of Arabia and other such places, provide a great day trek out into the desert. You journey around using their traditional mode of transport, a Toyota Landcruiser. They have learned to tame these savage beasts. At one point one refused to go any further. It had reared up and was heading backwards. But with some gentle coaxing from it's handler, and a timely tap with a spanner, we were back on our way. Just around the corner however we got bogged in the sand. But again these Bedouin were masters of these beasts of burden and we were off again.

There were 5 in our group, 2 Italians, a French-Moroccan and a French-Canadian. It was very handy having this mix. The driver could only speak Arabic, which the French Moroccan could translate into French which in turn the French Canadian translated to the rest of us. I think some details may have been lost however. What started as a 5 minute conversation when it got back to me was simply "we're stopping here."

We spent the night out under the stars in the desert, it was great. I then headed back to Petra to see Petra by night. It was a lot like Petra by Day except you couldn't see much.

I'm now in London. I did a comedy gig for old time's sake at the 'King Gong. A few old friends joined me. It must have been great for them. After waiting all night to see my act I got one joke out resulting in a boo, then a second that resulted in a gong. Good to see I haven't lost it!

I'm heading off to Africa tomorrow night.

Monday, August 20, 2007

Amman..... Jordan



So far my Jordanian experience has been very mixed.

It started off well with a cheap bus ride to the city, albeit an hour wait, and a friendly chat to a Jordanian who gave me some helpful advice. "If you want to go somewhere ask a policeman, everyone else will try and scam you."

I arrived at the bus station to try and organise a bus to Petra. But they don't go from there. But I'm told about another bus station across town.

So I start looking for a cab to the hotel. There's a guy aggressively trying to secure my fare. He introduces himself as Mahmood. I get in and I say, "Beirut International Hotel please." "Oh you don't want to go there", he says. "It's too expensive." Here we go again I thought. "I've already booked and paid, please take me straight there," I retorted angrily. He did as he was told and I paid him $1.1 Jordanian Dinar (JD) (around $1.50 USD) no tip.

I had been scrutinised entering Delhi airport, my bags had been scanned twice and once again in Jordan. Now entering the Beirut International Hotel a security guy asks to see in my bag. I look at him incredulously. He said something in Arabic.

I said, "What?"
He said, "Do you speak Arabic?"
"No", I replied. "I'm Australian."
"Oh go ahead", he said. As he let me through.

I think he was a bit racist. For all he knew I could have been carrying a flight manual and a Quran. Sure signs of terrorism in anyone's book.

So I get into my room and it's then I realise I've lost my mobile phone.

"Fuck", I think to myself.
"Fuck", I utter out loud.

I realise it's fallen out of my travel pants in the cab. Now already considering Mahmood was a bit shifty I immediately gave up on the phone and started thinking about how I can cancel the account.

So in a strange country tired, hot, hungry and still a bit pooey from the Chili Chicken I reach out to the locals for help. I asked at reception if they knew where I could use the internet.

"I don't know, down the street on the right", he suggests.

I go down the street on the right and there's nothing. A shop keeper informs me there's none in this area. So I decided to book a trip to Petra since the booking office was nearby.

I get very short service but I decide to ask if they know where I can use the internet. The young lady behind the counter looks at me as if to say, "You're not in Werrimull now, this is Amman Jordan, of course not". But with her mouth she says, "I don't know. Down town?"

Then a guy chimes in and says "No. There's one around the corner on the left, very close." The young lady laughs. Sure enough around the corner on the left there's nothing.

So I'm starting to feel a bit intimidated by Amman, Jordan. But eventually I found an overpriced internet at a fancy hotel, and I found the trendy part of town. It had Mc Donalds AND Pizza Hut.

To top off my turn of fortunes I asked at reception about my phone. Mahmood had been 3 times to try and find me. He came back with the phone. I was so happy I almost kissed him. Instead I gave him $20 JD (about $28 USD)

Now I'm in Petra. It's an amazing and worthy of Wonder of the World status. My Delhi Belly is persisting. But I managed to hold out the 6 hours of trekking through Petra. I had a close call when at a point I decided I couldn't hold out. I hid in a cave and dropped my pants. I was just about to drop something else when I heard some voices. I quickly zipped up. I gave them a nonchalant nod as they walked past. The feeling passed and I got home OK.

Today I'm heading to Wadi Rum to camp out in the desert.

Shrma and me

Well I'd managed to avoid Delhi Belly until my very last meal. The chili Chicken at the Blue Sapphire (see previous post for details) put me over the edge. I'll keep you posted on how it progresses.

The Driver for my 4 day tour of Delhi, Jaipur and Agra was called Shrma. The first day around Delhi he was reasonably quiet. "This is parliament", "There's the monkey temple", "This is the palace" etc. The next day he was even quieter, silently chewing his masala all the way to Jaipur. Apparently Masala gives you a calming effect, which must be essential as a driver in India. We were nearly to Jaipur when he admitted he'd had too many whiskeys the night before. His commentary was as useful as before.

"What's this place?" I asked.
"It's the fort", he replied.
"When was it built?" I asked.
"Oh, about 200 years ago."

"So what's this place?", I asked.
"It's the palace", he replied.
"When was it built?" I asked.
"Oh, about 200 years ago."


But Shrma grew on me and gradually gained my trust. Each time he dropped me at a monument I expected he'd have taken off with my stuff. But I began to expect it less and less.

He was also honest about the dodgey shops he'd take me to and the commissions he'd receive. He would say, "Go into this shop, look around for 10 minutes, don't buy anything. I'll show you the one to buy at later." He received an 80 rupee ($2 USD) drink voucher, and he gave me a cut of 2 beers each day for my part in the scam.

One time he had to go undercover. He showed me a friends shop that wasn't owned by "the company". I assume he got the full commission here. To get there, and so his car wouldn't be seen, he hired a cyclo and wrapped a cloth around his mouth.

After looking at some marble he bought me a beer. He was drinking whisky again and we sat with some shop owners. It after a few drinks that I felt comfortable enough to question the 20,000 rupee price tag for my trip. He brought up his 2,000 rupee per month wages, and his need to support his wife and 4 kids. It's funny, he'd never mentioned his wife when he was checking out the girls on the street.

After some healthy debate we agreed it wasn't Shrma's fault that I bought a tour that I didn't really want. I joined in drinking the whiskey.

I started to wonder if my stuff was OK in his car. Shrma said "You could leave $1,000 on the dashboard and no-one would touch it because they know it's Shrma's car." Even though it sounded like the whiskey talking I decided to believe him.

After some whiskeys we went to restaurant that I don't remember paying for. Shrma told me it's ok lets go.

Then I said, "So where do we drink now?" Long story short, with some fuzzy memory of a game somewhat like rummy and another bottle of whisky I woke up in my kingsize bed at the hotel with Shrma beside me. But don't worry I woke up in the morning with my anal virginity still intact. Phew dodged another bullet.

Earlier that previous day I saw the Taj Mahal and it was really really good. I got a guide to show me around. His name was God. It's not everyday God guides you through one of the new 7 wonders of the world.

Despite being hungover with a bit of help from his Masala, Shrma got me back to New Delhi, safe and sound. What a relief! He even got me to the airport at 3am. I gave him a tip of around $50 USD. After all he has a "wife and 4 kids to feed".

I promised the dodgey guy who sold me the trip that if it was good I'd add a link to his website. Well overall is was good. So here it is http://www.rajasthanheritagetours.com/. If you're ever in Delhi and you're abducted by your cab driver and taken to Rajasthan Heritage Tours, say hi from me.

I'm now in Amman, Jordan. What a relief to be safe and sound in the Middle East.

Friday, August 17, 2007

The Blue Sapphire

In New Delhi the hotel I ended up in was called the Blue Sapphire. It's an old relic of the colonial days, with marble floors, big wooden doors, the works.

The first night, being an "unscheduled stay", I ended up in the fancy suite. It had a very large room and a balcony. The only real drawback was the stained sheets, oh and the cold shower. The second night I was moved to a more modest room. It seemed clean enough, and this one had hot water.

I decided to be clever and turn on the air conditioner before going to dinner. On my return the room was warm and it had a burnt motor smell. I fiddled around a bit and realised it was broken.

I rang reception;
"The air conditioner is broken, I'm in room 107".
"Oh OK", was the reply.

10 minutes passed and I'd heard nothing. So I rang again.

"Hi it's me again from from 107 the air conditioner is broken".
"Working?"
"No Broken."
"Working?"
"No... NOT working."
"Oh OK. Someone will be there in 10 minutes."

Now I'd like to think I'm a fairly laid back guy. So I took things fairly calmly. I am in Delhi after all. But it was late and I had to get up at 6am to go to Jaipur. So after 1/2 an hour I rang again.

"Hi, I'm ringing about the air conditioner. It's late and I want to sleep, can I get another room?"
"The air conditioner repair man is on his way. If he's not there in 10 minutes we'll get you another room."

10 minutes later he arrived.

"These guys will fix it," I'm told. "Only 10 minutes."

So now there are two guys in my room, a little guy who looks about 10 and a bigger guy with a beard and turban. The little one is in there stripping wires with his teeth, pulling this and poking that. I say, "It smells like a burnt motor". They pull the whole thing out from the wall turn a few more knobs. They stand back and the larger guy, after stroking his beard with satisfaction, decides to turn it on.

There's a puff of smoke, a crackling noise and sparks. So they pack it back into the wall and leave.

The first guy returns and tells me, "We'll get you a new room, only 10 minutes."

So I'm waiting for a while and another guy, let's call him the porter, asks if I want something to eat or drink, a beer perhaps. "For free?" I asked. He found the suggestion amusing.

Half an hour later and I'm moved in to a new room, that someone had checked out of minutes before. The air conditioner was so cold I turned it off after 10 minutes,.... or was it half an hour.

I'm now in Jaipur and I'm heading to Agra today to see the Taj Mahal. But more on all that later.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Delhi Belly is really smelly




Hi all,

Well I'm on my way, but not in Africa yet. I spent a night in Taipei, not much to report there, it was a nice city and it has the world's tallest building, well it's the tallest until the one in Dubai, which is actually taller, gets officially recognised.

My real adventure started in Delhi. On the plane over from Taipei I realised I hadn't taken any Malaria tablets and I figured I should have some protection. I'd also heard that Quinine, which is found in Tonic water, either discourages mozzies, or helps Malaria some how. So I ordered a Gin and Tonic on the plane. They must have been strong because I'd only had 4 and fell asleep halfway through Spiderman 3. The movie may have had something to do with it.

Anyway I arrived at Indira Ghandi International airport at about 1:30am. The nice lady in the seat beside me recommended that I order an official pre-paid taxi. But unfortunately you had to pay for that before you can get to an ATM. I had been to the ATM and was discussing with the security guy how I need to get back in to buy the taxi. Then a guy came up to me holding my VISA card. "You want to hang on to this", he said. I thanked him. But that wasn't enough. He also required 100 rupee. It was then I wondered if the 4th Gin and Tonic was such a good idea.

So I buy the taxi ticket head outside and jump in. Some other dodgey guy jumps in beside me. He tells me he's finished his taxi shift and requires a lift home too. I wasn't in a position to argue. Now, trucks are only allowed to enter New Delhi at night time. At 2am the roads were full of them. Due to their poor visibility they have "Please Honk" written on the back. So they can tell that you are there. One even had "Please Honk, then wait for left or right". There didn't seem much system as to which side they were going.

So we get into town and the taxi passenger informs me he's not sure how to get to my hotel. It's one I'd prepaid, so he takes me to a travel agent. With my bags and passport and everything in the cab they asked me inside. The more often they said "bag OK" the more nervous I became and ended up grabbing the one with my passport. So now they ring "my hotel" and I'm passed the phone. I'm then told "There's a very unfortunate occurance" I asked him to elaborate. He said someone has decided to stay an extra day and I have no room. I said but I'd booked. He reiterated that is was "a very unfortunate occurance, sir" but he had a sister hotel that I could stay in. He didn't seem that keen on my idea of throwing the other guy out so with few options I agreed to the new hotel. It was then the travel agents started talking about a tour of the golden triangle. I said I just want to go to bed. I'll never know whether I really spoke to my hotel or not. As I was about to jump into the car the travel agent came after me with my passport "you'll want to hang to that", he said.

So the next day the travel agent is at my hotel and drives me back to the agency. Now I was planning to go to the Taj Mahal which I understood should be around $80 USD. He suggests I go to Jaipur, stay the night, then Agra and stay the night. The punches some numbers in his calculator and shows me $1675 US. Hmm I said. I was looking to pay a little less than that. That's OK he says they are for 5 star hotels. Then he punches some more numbers and shows me $1250 USD. Again I shake my head. He informs me this is for medium hotels. Then he comes back with $675. Now this is for 4 days, driven everywhere in an air conditioned car, to all the sites, including an elephant ride, and accommodation. But it is also India. I told him if I tell my friends I spent $170 USD a day in India they'd all laugh at me. I eventually got him down to $500 USD. That's probably still worth a chuckle.


Today I saw all the sites of New Delhi. Various temples and such. At lunch time the driver took me to a fancy restaurant which had prices around $10 USD. I said I want to try a more local place. I found a dirty smelly fly invested place that looked perfect. I settled on a Chicken Biryani for about $2 USD. I guess I'll find out if Delhi Belly is really smelly later tonight. The day ended with a tour of the shops for which the driver earned a kickback and I earned 2 beers.

Tomorrow Jaipur. Wish me luck!

Travelling Trav back on the road.