Recent photos
Connie and Gail trying to determine which enlightened course on offer would best suit their needs.
Meeting a new bride from Philadelphia who came to marry her fiancée
Walking up a river to another temple had to laugh at the sign. It was laundry day for the monks
McLeodganj as seen from the market road leading to the temple
Young tibetan schoolchildren protesting the ongoing detention of the Panchan Lama by the chinese
cread more here on the history of the detention of the Panchan Lama
Connie and Gail at the Golden Temple, Amritsar
We joined the throngs at the India-Pakistani border to watch the antics during the daily lowing of flags
Everyone was dressed in their finest at the border.
Retreat to the Mountains
We have now retreated to the mountains to hide out from the constant deluge of reports in the India Times of corruption, rapes, child abuse and warring factions.
We flew out of Delhi heading north guiding the plane with mantras absorbed from visiting McLeodganj, the home of the Dalai Lama in exile. We drifted over the plains of Rajasthan, up to the foothills of the Himalayas and then with a violent jostling of the aircraft hit the real mountains – WOW
The captain announced we were flying at 37,000 feet then suddenly another air blast and the seat belt sign goes on, everyone looks around to be reassured, the wings flex up and down and below us lies the desolate and snowy glaciers and dry valleys of the wondrous Himalayas. There is no option for emergency landings in this territory.
I keep peering out the window looking for signs of human habitation. The scenery is awe inspiring and now we are starting a slow descent to Leh at about three and a half thousand metres (11,500 ft). Valleys widen, rivers start to be bigger, cultivated fields and small landholdings open to orchards well defined by sand dunes and scrub.
Now the plane is once again getting buffeted and the announcement comes over the intercom: “fasten your seatbelts as we are approaching Leh. Photography is forbidden (click as I get my last shot) on the approach, landing and unloading”. We fly in on the approach to Leh and notice a military helicopter hovering over the airport and as we land can see the bunkers hiding the Indian jet fighters. Yes, the chinese have made further incurrsions on the nearby border. 30 tents put up by the chinese were discoverd by the Indians in Indian territory. So what did the Indians do? They put up 50 tents and yelled at the chinese to get out of India. Now it’s escalating and who knows where it will go. Meanwhile we have landed, ready to acclimitize to living at 3000 metres.
I can already feel my heart beating quicker but can’t tell if it is the altitude or if it’s excitement at arriving back in the mountains.
Interested in travelling to India? Read:
1 – City of Djinns by William Dallywrimple
2 – A Journey in Ladakh by Andrew Harvey
At least this is what we have picked up and ebjoyed recently
Meherangarh Fort (Jodhpur)
Known as one of the best preserved castles in India it is stunning. The scale of the castle makes European castles seem like cottages for the servants. From the initial ramparts as one rises up the grade one looks down on old Jaipur, also known as the blue city.
This castle has never been successfully scaled and walking around it you can understand why. The main entry gate is set at right angles from the main road. This meant the elephants used as battering rams could not get up the necessary speed to be efective. As well as the right angle approach the main gates are studded with 1 metre spikes protuding outwards and acting as an effective deterrent to the mahouts and their animals.
Passing through the gates the maharajas and maharinis entered into what today we would call a fantasy life that one can only be likened to the life of the french aristocracy of the 1700s. Truly an extravagant life punctuated by great battles to pillage othe empires to help pay for the lives of the maharajah and the many maharinis.
Unfortunately with the death of a maharaja the maharinis self immolated on their funeral pyre but before doing so left their handprint on the wall just inside the main gateway entrance.
Other features of todays castle is the museum which inhabits what was once the living quarters with displays on the howdah (elephant saddles) made from silver and leather,
Weaponary with special knives that when inserted into the enemy could be triggered to be opened up and with a quick twist on pulling out totally destroyed surrounding tissue and/or organs
and placed next to the baby cribs which was a special room with a long row of cribs in a room where the amas could look out the screened windows. One side allowed a view out over the main entranceway to the royal chambers and the other side into the royal courtyard.
And then it was on to the palace with the most amazing doorways
Now we are on the way north to meet the Dalai Lama!
Rajasthan – palm trees and wheat
We are on our way from Delhi to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. Heading out of Delhi we cross over the Jumna River, the lifeblood for the city. The city slowly gives way to the suburbs, the suburbs to industry, industry to hi tech mini cities and finally hi tech mini cities to farmland. Of course much of this is accented by huge shopping malls and the odd concentration of hi rise apartment blocks.
What becomes most impressing are the wheat fields on both sides of the freeway. It is almost harvest time. Scarecrows hover over the fields while egrets fly beside the river looking for the next feeding hole.
It is harvest time. Colourful saris dot the landscape fluttering in the light breeze. Bundles of wheat are gathered in lines across the fields. On closer inspection one realizes that as you speed by on the private freeway these bundles are not the result of the work of machines but rather the handi work of individual labourers. It means the last 40 kilometres of wheat fields are hand cut. Small groups of workers canbe seen in the fields cutting the wheat then the threshing begins. Thankfully, I am sure, the threshing is done by machine. But the cutting, bundling, gathering is all done by human labour. I feel like I am in a time travelling tube looking out on something the western world has not seen in 100 years. Truly amazing.
And then there was Agra and the Taj Mahal
Delhi
Whoa now, this is something completely different. Very few westerners, traffic that roars, screams, screeches, honks and uses humans like soccer balls. Try crossing a rounabout with no pedestrian crossings, no lanes and motobikes, tuk tuks, trucks and buses roaring from all directions.
And where are all the women? The metro we rode on tonight was 98% men and then we heard this announcement about how it was an offense for men to enter in to the women only coach. You can imagine what Connie had to say about riding the metro. However, the restaurant we sat in for dinner was also 90% men?
Today? Arrived at 0430hrs., checked into hotel, meeting at the American Embassy School at 1000hrs., walk around Connaught Square and finally crash for 2 hours before venturing out on the metro to look for a place for dinner.
Tomorrow? Sightseeing and focusing on only one of the 6 cities that make up Delhi. This is all too much for sailors who are used to a lazy life in anchorages!
Shut down
We are off to India. We have a boat sitter from Japan living onboard Sage while we travel as far north into India as we can to find temperatures in the low teens. There we will heal ourselves from the ravagrs of the tropical sun and the oppressive humidity.
Blogs on India may follow.
Urinal envy
Just in case any of you readers are thinking of building a boat here is an installation idea you may want to consider.
The picture below was taken in Langkawi onboard a friends Spencer 53 footer. I was so taken by the idea that am now trying to reconfigure our boat to accommodate. I am now looking for a potter with the requisite skills. The challenge for the successful bidder for this project has to ensure the urinal comes in at under 3kg and can withstand the impact of a 95kg body being hurled through space as the boat rolls over to 45 degrees.
Do you know of an interested potter?
24 Hours
This is not a T.V. episode but rather a real life episode of the life-on-board Sage during one of our sailing sojourns in the Andaman Sea. It features the ever beautiful and courageous offshore sailor Constance (screen name)
and her enigmatic sailing slave Antonio (just another backlot screen hunk)
Boy must be bored today thinking up bizarre turns of fate but all of the following is real.
0600hrs: we want to start early so as to take advantage of the NE Monsoon that blows here up until 1330hrs. So, we stagger out of the forward berth put on the tea kettle and start to put things away down below getting ready for a rough ride to windward as of course we want to head to Ko Pi Pi which is eastward and that is where the wind is blowing from.
0700hrs: Breakfast of yoghurt and granola with tea is finished so it is time to get going. We have not started the engine as the wind is strong enough in the protected anchorage to enable us to avoid the other anchored boats once set free. Connie has hauled up the anchor and is putting the foredeck into order whilst the boat slave is back at the wheel and setting the jib in order to sail out of the anchorage.
I always love sailing up the anchor. The boat starts to move slowly with the light wind in a protected anchorage, the boat glides slowly through the calm water slowly picking up enough speed to have steerage. Sure of release the boat picks up speed as more sail is added, the protection of land is left behind and one enters open water.
This morning is no exception except the wind is stronger than first thought and the bow rises to meet the swell and the first cascade of water flies up in the air, over the bow and cascades down the deck.
0800hrs: ah yes, the water swooshes along the deck and we suddenly look at each other and have the same question on our minds “did you dog down the hatches forward?”. I guiltly say no and proceed down below to find the forward berth covered in salt water and the salt water sloshing back and forth on the floor of the head i.e. Bathroom. No one wants salt water on the bed. It is impossible to keep dry afterwards in this climate. So tear off all the bedding, call up to Constance on deck, “everything is fine!” and keep cleaning up while the boat rises to the waves and crashes into the following wave with the resulting rush of water down the side deck. So much for a lovely and easy sail across to Kho Pi Pi.
0900hrs: I have not had my coffee yet. Head down below, wrap the galley belt around me to keep me in place, balance the espresso maker on the stove, don’t spill the fine coffee all over the counter, encourage the gecko to come out of hiding because I still see the odd cockroach, light the stove and stand waiting for the elixir to bubble up to the top of the coffee maker. Now comes the hard part. Maneuver my way back to the cockpit with a hot cup of coffee in hand without spilling any. Ah, success. And what sweet success. Snuggle myself into a comfortable corner of the cockpit and sip my coffee while Sage plows her way to windward and her days destination.
1100hrs: Wind is lightening, getting more finicky by changing direction 20-30 degrees every five minutes making it more of a challenge to strategize on the best way to get us to the next anchorage. We sit back, marvel at the incredibly clear views we have today clearly seeing both Ko Lanta in the distance and Buddha high on top overlooking Phuket. We are going to miss Buddha as we are headed to the land of minarets and the 0500hr call to prayer from the Malaysian minarets.
1300hrs: Darn, the wind is down to 5 knots and we are moving through the water at 3 knots. The water is no longer cascading over the bow but we are also not making a great deal of headway. Kho Pi Pi still seems a long way off but in reality it is only 12 miles away. Discussions begin on whether or not to start the engine.
1400hrs: Damn, the engine has been started, clothes stripped off, buckets of water thrown over the decks and ourselves and progress is being made albeit slowly.
1600hrs: Motoring in. What a zoo. Anchorage is deep and discussions about where to anchor brings a heated debate. There are numerous mooring buoys with a multitude of commercial tourist boats coming and going. We choose to take one of the many mooring buoys just not sure if we are going to get thrown off by someone claiming it to be theirs. Final log entry for the day shows we travelled 39.9 miles to cover a straight line distance of 28.8. Seems crazy to think we had to tack that much yet we enjoyed the sail. Sadomasochistic? Perhaps.
1900hrs: Launching the dinghy to go ashore. Before doing so it has to be cleaned up from two weeks of previous use.
Plenty of sand and grit on the inside and numerous barnacles starting to grow on the bottom. Only cleaning water is salt so by the end of cleaning and in this heat feel like a salt encrusted sponge that combines with the sweaty exertions of pulling, brushing, cleaning and launching the dinghy. Dying for a half hour continuous shower. However, Pi Pi has not had rain in 6 weeks so there is not much fresh water around except that which we carry with us.
2000hrs: We are ashore wandering the back alleys wondering which little restaurant may conjure up something tasty and satisfying and at the same time have some fans to move the still night air. Success, we found Anna’s. Not great but it is hard to get a bad meal in Thailand, unlike Malaysia.
2130hrs: Back on the beach. The tide is out and the dinghy is still there. We are always worried about losing the dinghy. It is the equivalent of our car. It gets us back and forth to shore so without it we would have to swim. Carrying a bag of groceries and several containers of water would present a problem were we having to swim. We drag the dinghy back to the water and row through the anchored boats cursing ourselves for not having brought a light so that the local boats do not run us over as we wend our way back to Sage.
2200hrs: We are back onboard and finally hauling out the shower. It is dark, hopefully no one watching, the wind non-existent, still hot and humid and we are ready. Oh, does that feel good. It is not a long shower but the days salt and sweat is quickly rinsed down the deck and there is a slight breeze providing a cooling and refreshing feeling before heading to bed. But, we are still concerned someone is coming to claim their mooring.
2359hrs: No I am not kidding. Antonio has fallen asleep in the cockpit with no clothes on. Suddenly lights are beamed into the cockpit, someone yelling it is their mooring and telling us to move on. Stunned and groggy I reach for a towel, stagger to the engine start button, call Constance and proceed to unleash ourselves. It is dangerous in this anchorage at night. There are all sorts of moorings with floating lines to snag unsuspecting propellers so we head out to open water and….
That’s our 24 hours. How is yours?
The Night Buddha Swallowed the Moon
For those watchers of the night sky you will know that tonight is the night of the new moon.
As we ate dinner the moon fell lower and lower getting closer and closer to Buddha perched high on the hilltop overlooking Ao Chalong.
Suddenly the moon disappeared. All we can think is that Buddha has snatched the moon out of the night sky and that is why he has such a large smile.
Embarrassment of orchids
The picture tells almost the whole story.
What does one do when you see a bouquet of orchids for three dollars?
Sage on sail 