A hidden Kathmandu delight: Amitabha monastery

There are a handful of sites which make the mandatory check list for any visit to Kathmandu. You've probably run across the names Durbar Square, Swayambhunath, Boudhanath, Bhaktapur, and maybe even Nagarkot... even if you can't quite pronounce them all.

One gem of a site that often gets overlooked is Amitabha monastery, also affectionately referred to by locals as the White Gumba (Gumba means 'temple' in Nepalese, not these). We were fortunate enough to have our local hosts escort us out to Amitabha one sunny Saturday afternoon and were pleasantly surprised with what we found.

Main hall of Amitabha

A few fun facts

Amitabha gets overlooked by many for a few reasons.

First, it's only open to the public on Saturday. If your schedule doesn't have you in Kathmandu on Saturday, a trip here would really only give you a nice view of the gate, and maybe some irritated monks (note: these are nowhere near as amusing as irritated monkeys).

Second, it's not exactly the easiest place to get to. It's quite a hike if you're coming from Thamel, like most travelers are; from Thamel, it's more than twice the distance of Swayambhunath and is up in a quite hilly area. That, along with the often confusing bus system means that a taxi or private car is probably your best bet here.

Still, hiking would not be the worst option in the world for those up to the challenge. The area is quite scenic once you get outside Ring Road, and the hills could even serve as a warm-up for your upcoming treks. Just be sure to bring a comfortable pair of shoes!

The hills are alive with the sound of Buddhist chanting music

The payoff

So why should this be on your list of places to see in Kathmandu?

Well first, it's far enough out of town that the surrounding area is quite pleasant, and Amitabha's elevated position gives it quite the good view.

A Buddha's eye view of Kathmandu

The grounds themselves are also quite expansive and highly elaborate. The giant golden Buddha atop the hill is preceded by cascading statues all the way up the grounds. The entire hike up the giant staircase, you'll pass by numerous murals, fountains and statues, each more ornate than the last.

The front gate of White Gumba—not so white

The true draw here for me though was the interior of the main temple hall itself. This is the most elegant, colorful Buddhist temple I have ever laid eyes on, and I've seen quite a few. The overload of colors is simply amazing; it is a feast for the eyes that truly has to be seen to be appreciated. The monks must agree with me as they have unfortunately forbidden photography. Tis a shame that I cannot share its beauty, but luckily there's enough else going on here to keep the photogs happy.

So for the traveler that has seen it all in Kathmandu, I offer up the White Gumba. You won't be disappointed!

Have any hidden gems of your own you'd like to share? Let us know!

Having learned our lesson, we chose to forgo the 3-day overland transit this time and just fly to make our transfer from Delhi to Istanbul. Look forward to reports from Turkey in the near future.

For more pictures of Amitabha, check out the folder on my Flickr account.

A trip through the Kathmandu Valley: Bhaktapur and Nagarkot

Sunrise over Nagarkot

While there's plenty going on in Kathmandu, any trip here would be remiss without venturing a little further outside the city limits. While there are certainly other options out there, two popular destinations that fit together in a nice little package are Bhaktapur and Nagarkot. Here's our experience.

Bhaktapur

Statues and Jain temples in Bhaktapur Durbar Square

Bhaktapur is located a deceptively long 13 km away from Kathmandu—with the road conditions, the trip will easily take an hour.

If you take the bus, they'll drop you off in front of a gate just a few minutes walk from yet another Durbar Square. As I mentioned last time, however, if I had to pick one then this one is the most impressive; it was damaged in an earthquake in 1934, making it more spacious than its Kathmandu and Patan counterparts. No worries though, there are still many temples, statues and gates-o-plenty for your ogling pleasure.

Intricate wood carvings in Durbar Square

If you choose to go through the main gate and pay, the entrance fee is 1,100 rupees.

The streets of Bhaktapur

Other than Durbar Square, Bhaktapur is a good place to just wander the streets. The aforementioned tremor also means that a good portion of the homes and buildings here are newer, giving a different look than the age of Kathmandu.

Juju-dhau sighted!

Along the way, be sure to wander by a stand for some juju-dhau—literally, the "king of all yogurt." I'm not so sure about that assertion after some of the damn fine lassis we had in India, but it's still pretty good and worth a try. It's basically local honey poured over chilled yogurt and served in a ceramic container. Make sure to fit this princely treat into your pauper's budget.

Nagarkot

A hazy sunrise over the Himalayas

Nagarkot's claim to fame is its views—at 2,195 meters, it commands a spectacular view of both the Himalayas to the northeast—including Mt. Everest—and the valley to the southwest, making it a great spot for both sunrises and sunsets on clear days.

Being caught in the tail end of a lingering rainy season, we weren't so lucky in that regard; even so, the views were great. As with the rest of Nepal, I'd recommend coming in the winter if possible.

Lookout! This tower is missing its ladder

There's a lookout tower about 3-4 km outside of town at the very top of the hill Nagarkot finds itself on. While this is arguably the best place to get that picture-perfect view of things and shouldn't be missed, it does get a little crowded up there. The tower itself is a little hard (but not impossible) to climb as the ladder is severed from overuse.

Walking there from town will take around 40-60 minutes, so plan accordingly. If you don't want to walk in the dark for sunrise, your hotel will be more than happy to offer you a shuttle, for a fee.

If you're not into crowds, the views are still good from the road to the tower for sunset and from many of the hotels for sunrise.

There are a few options to get to Nagarkot from Kathmandu, but most of them involve you first getting to none other than Bhaktapur. First, there's the bus. Just take the bus from Kathmandu to Bhaktapur and transfer. For a little more than the bus, you could also rent a private car or hail a taxi for the most convenient trip up the 17-km road.

Lastly, you could hoof it. There's a 13-km trail connecting Bhaktapur and Nagarkot, allowing you to take in the spectacular views of the Nepal countryside at your own pace. I don't know that I'd want to hike both ways, but it looks like it'd be a pleasant enough 3-4 hour hike for at least one way.

If you have a smartphone or iProduct, you can probably get away without having a map. A quick search on Google Maps outlined the hike on my iPhone (4), and the GPS locator will work even without wi-fi access.

Overlooking terraced fields from my perch

Plenty of shorter treks are also available departing from Kathmandu and going through Nagarkot. Check with tourist offices in Kathmandu or your hotel for more info.

And there you have it! As usual, stay tuned for the rest of my pictures to come on Flickr.

A one-day tour of downtown Kathmandu

Durbar Square in Kathmandu

While Nepal is probably best known for it's majestic natural beauty, and rightly so, it does have at least one urban area: Kathmandu. Once thought to be the mythical Shangri-la, Kathmandu has plenty to hold your interest for a few days before or after a nice trek through to the Himalayas or one of many other outdoor activities in Nepal.

First off, Kathmandu is more than just an overcrowded city—it's a valley with plenty of history spread across three major cities: Kathmandu, Bhaktapur and Patan (Lalitpur). Kathmandu Valley is the heart of Nepal culture with plenty of colorful temples and stupas, bustling streets with charming cityscapes and yes, beautiful terraced landscapes and mountain views.

As with the rest of Nepal, the general road conditions can make moving between the sites slow going... but if you've been following along, you already knew that.

The roads are in various stages of disrepair, resulting in a haze of smoke and dust which one source told us cuts the life expectancy of traffic police down to their 40's. I haven't confirmed the veracity of this claim, but you will notice quite a few people about town wearing masks. If you're squeamish, you might also want to cover your eyes as Nepali drivers don't exactly leave much room for margin.

Not to fret though—for those short on time, you can cover a lot of ground in Kathmandu in a day without contributing to the pollution. There are several sites worth a look which are within walking distance of the main traveler's haunt, Thamel. Here's what we saw our first day.

Walking the streets of Kathmandu

The streets of Kathmandu

One of the more pleasant surprises awaiting us in Kathmandu was right on our doorsteps—the town itself.

Thamel and its inhabitants are all aimed squarely at your pocket. I've heard it described as "Khaosan-esque." I won't disagree. It does have some reasonable shopping though, whether you're looking to stock up on supplies before a trek or pick up some trinket for back home. The prices we saw here for local clothing were cheaper than in Pokhara, but I'm sure there's still plenty of margin for bargaining.

The stretch of roads between Thamel and Durbar Square has loads of character. Take a turn or two off the main route between the two points or get lost a bit, you won't regret it.

Many of the houses downtown sport classically-designed facades with an architectural heritage which has evolved over centuries of craftsmanship, influenced by Buddhist and Hindu practices. Keep your eyes peeled for one of numerous courtyards hidden down the side streets or through tiny doorways with the ever-present Buddhist stupa—some glaring, some with lazy stares reminiscent of something out of Garfield, but all with the iconic Buddha eyes. Gems like these are everywhere.

Stupa-fied

I could walk the streets with my camera for hours and not get bored.

Durbar Square and Freak Street

Wood carvings in Durbar Square

When you finally arrive at Durbar Square, a bunch of wooden temples with detailed carvings await. It's a good 15-minute walk due south if you don't stop along the way (not happening, I know).

Next to Durbar Square is Freak Street, an older area which once served as the traveler's district when hippies roamed the earth. Today, it acts as a smaller, quieter and often cheaper alternative to Thamel which still appears to be a bed of counterculture. Whether shopping or looking for a bite, you can certainly find anything in Thamel, but in our experience the lodging and food was cheaper on Freak Street.


For our personal favorite, look for Surya Moon Bistro. It's located in an alleyway hidden just off Freak Street. The food and atmosphere are great, all without the Thamel prices.

It is important to note here that while Durbar Square is definitely a tourist attraction, it is also a central town gathering point that locals can and do traverse daily. As such, while it does have an entrance fee, they aren't exactly that strict about enforcement on all the entrances. This is true for all three Durbar Squares. We walked through several times in our jaunts about town without paying the 750 rupee fee.

Also note that there are actually three Durbar Squares: one each in Kathmandu (Basantapur), Bhaktapur and Patan (Lalitpur). If you're a temple nut then by all means see them all, but I'd say one is probably enough.

Of the three, Bhaktapur is the nicest (and most expensive at 1,100 rupees, if you pay); the town itself certainly has its own charm as well. For those in a rush though, Basantapur in Kathmandu is no slouch itself. Unfortunately, this leaves Patan as the odd one out. If it's any consolation, it looked like a nice place to live!

Swayambhunath Temple

Stupa prayer flags

Swayambhunath is within walking distance of the Thamel and Durbar Square areas. Allow at least 20-30 minutes for the slightly uphill hike.

When you arrive at the base of the steep hill, no dabbling—your hike isn't done yet! You still have to scale a staircase heading straight up. It's pretty tiring—it could probably serve as a good penance for delinquent monks or something.

Before climbing the stairs, it might be good to catch a breather here while watching the loitering monkeys which have earned Swayambhunath its other title: Monkey Temple. They'd probably like you to feed them with treats sold by one of many vendors here, but we were fine with just watching them frolic about the way only monkeys can.

Once you make it to the summit, the stupa itself is rivaled by a panoramic overlook of the city. Especially on a clear day, this place has one of, if not the, best views in Kathmandu.

View of Kathmandu from atop Swayambhunath

As for the stupa itself, while not as big as Boudhanath, we actually enjoyed Swayambhunath better. Both courts are picturesque and come with a free serenade of a famous Buddhist mantra set to surprisingly pleasant music, which is a much better song than this to have stuck in your head.

If you're out of shape or have knee problems, I'd suggest going around the back side to look for the shorter climb through the parking lot. This entrance is on the west side, which will be a left if coming up the street from Durbar Square.


And that's it! If you're anything like us, these stops should be more than enough to keep you busy for a day or more. If it's Saturday and you're feeling ambitious, you might consider adding in Amitabha Monastery, the White Gumba.

Next time, we'll move outside Kathmandu but keep in the valley with Bhaktapur and more.

Paragliding: The clouds above Pokhara

Pokhara Paragliders

When we arrived in Nepal, we weren’t sure what exactly to expect, quite frankly. We hadn’t done much research, so we had no real expectations outside of meeting lots of Buddhists and trekking the countryside in search of Himalaya views.

After the bus ride from hell, I was out of commission with a high fever requiring us to stay put for at least five days. Our original idea of trekking was out, at least for the moment. Once safely in Pokhara though, we were pleasantly surprised to find that there is much more to do in Nepal than just trek from tea house to tea house and circumambulate stupas until dizzy.

Pokhara is a lake town best known for its proximity to the Annapurna trail and a host of other epic treks—if you want to trek, this is the place to do it. Besides hiking, however, it offers a host of other outdoor activities, including paragliding, white water rafting and canyoning. Now being sick doesn’t mean I was dead—surrounded by all this was making me a bit antsy. After a few days, we thus decided to get a better view of the lake and go paragliding. Totally worth it.

What fever?

For those not familiar with it, paragliding is a rather young sport—imagine what would happen if a parachute and hang glider had babies. Yeah, it’s something like that. You basically strap a parachute-looking glider on and run down a hill until the wind gives enough lift to glide away. 

Akemi in flight

For the non-thrill seekers, the takeoff isn’t scary at all, and you even have a nice little seat for the whole ride. Like with skydiving, they will normally make you ride tandem with an experienced pilot the first few times, so no training necessary. Skilled pilots good at catching the slipstreams can get higher and stay up for hours, but rides here lasted about 30 minutes.

For the thrill seekers, they got you covered, too. Pilots will often do some funky little tricks on the way down if you ask. Akemi’s pilot was way better than mine though, so it may pay to be picky with your pilot.

Bird's eye view of terraced fields

While the tricks are nice as a side attraction, the real draw here is the spectacular views you get from thousands of meters off the ground. This was easily the best view in town—our senses were overloaded with an epic 360-degree bird’s eye view of the lake, rivers, hills and mountains. 

Pokhara views, as nature intended them

Paragliding is more common in places with steep hills—we’ve now seen it in Pamukkale and Fethiye in Turkey in addition to Pokhara—so you’re guaranteed some once-in-a-lifetime views which are more than worth the price of admission.

Speaking of prices, a ride on a paraglider will normally run you around $60-80 for a 30-minute ride in Nepal (for Turkey, change that $ to a €). You might be able to negotiate yourself better rates in the off-season; we wound up flying for $50 a pop. There are plenty of companies in Pokhara, so shop around. 

We opted out of it, but they’ll tack on a video and picture package for an additional $10-15 I think. If you don’t have a good camera, it’s definitely worth it.

And there you have it—Nepal is definitely one of the cheaper locations to offer paragliding, so if you’re there then definitely give it a look!

If you too choose to go dancing with the clouds above Pokhara, be sure to make a stop by our favorite restaurant in town, Pokhara Beach Club. Pokhara Beach Club is run by a rather interesting Canadian and Indian couple who cook everything themselves with nothing but fresh, organic ingredients. Best salad in town, guaranteed. It’s a little bit out of the way when coming from town, but is located just a short walk down the hill from the glider landing zone.

After jumping off a mountain and recovering a bit more, our next stop was the Nepali capital, Kathmandu. More on that next time, and check the Flickr account for more Pokhara pics!

Pokhara Paragliding Pvt. Ltd.

+977 61-460260

pkrparagliding@hotmail.com

Pokhara Beach Club

+977 98-1515-5343

info@pokharabeachclub.com

India-Nepal Border crossing: a harrowing bus journey

Nepal border

The border crossing from India to Nepal is a rather involved trip—I only recommend it for those that have the time and/or can’t afford to fly. Flights between Delhi and Kathmandu are plentiful and cheap, so if that will work into your schedule then just do it. Believe me. Don’t get me wrong—the Nepal countryside is beautiful with spectacular views, but it is a trying two days. Especially during the monsoon season, you don’t want to be on those roads.

There are also flights from Varanasi to Kathmandu and possibly Pokhara, but these are pricier and less frequent. Faced with the choice of $200+ plane tickets or a 2-day land border crossing, we went with the latter; in hindsight though, that $200 keeps sounding better and better.

Logistically, expect things to take 2 days for a land crossing. You may get lucky and fly through the border crossing in time to catch the last buses onward from Sunauli to Pokhara and Kathmandu by 11 am, but don’t count on it. And especially in rain, do not trust your life to a local bus here as the drivers certainly do not leave much margin for error. In any case, our time was unpleasant enough breaking it into two days, so I can only imagine that being miserable trying to rush through it.

I should state up front that while slow, this is a halfway pleasant journey with breathtaking views in nice weather. Our bus ride from Pokhara to Kathmandu a week later was exemplary of this. Do not take weather here lightly though, and do be careful, especially in monsoon season.

Here’s our story.

The route 

First off, here’s the route:

• Varanasi > Gorakpur (overnight train)
• Gorakpur > Sunauli (local bus, 3 hrs.)
• Sunauli > Lumbini hotel (local bus, 1 hr.)
• Lumbini > Pokhara via Sunauli (...it’s complicated) 

This course took us a full two days—as in 48 hours—including an overnight train, followed by a series of local buses culminating in Lumbini close to the border for a one-night stay, and then a 6-hour bus ride to Pokhara that wound up being a 15-hour nightmare bus marathon. More on that below.

The train

Our journey was cursed from the onset. Maybe Kumar secretly jinxed us with some kind of Hindu curse or something, who knows. Ok probably not, but it wasn’t pleasant.

While waiting at the Varanasi station for our 12:30 departure, it started to rain. Now let’s be clear—when I say rain, I don’t mean a light rain; I believe Forrest Gump referred to it as “big ‘ol fat rain.” For a second there, I saw flashbacks to the flooding streets of Delhi and Jodhpur, thinking of the disarray downtown Varanasi must be with all this. This torrential downpour would be our travel companion for the next two days.

This of course meant that our train was delayed. We waited with another traveler until the train finally arrived some hour or so later than scheduled.

While waiting, we noticed a more-than-small wrinkle in our plans—our tickets were actually for the day before!! [Traveler’s note: when buying tickets for trains departing after midnight, be mindful of the dates.]

In our case, luckily this was a train that departed every day. Upon debating how to handle the situation, we decided to throw the dice by pulling the tourist card and feigning ignorance. As long as we board the train, we’ll at least get to our destination and everything will work out, we think.

We cautiously boarded the train—was someone already sitting in our “assigned” berth? We decided to nonchalantly walk by and check, then run and hide somewhere as stowaways until the train departed if the seat was taken. Luckily, no one was there... or were our tickets actually for the proper day? I’m still not sure, to be honest.

Relieved for the moment, we take our seats and wait for the train to depart. It’s already almost 2 am at this point, so we’re ready to crash. Just our luck though, the ticket master decides to make his rounds BEFORE the train pulls out. Great. Apprehensively, I hand the tickets over, prepared to act surprised when he tells us that we have the wrong tickets.

To our pleasant surprise, that moment never came! Whether we had the right tickets or he simply couldn’t be bothered to deal with the situation properly I don’t know, but he simply handed the tickets back and went on his way. Maybe the berth occupants had just gotten off and he was feeling nice. At this point, we didn’t care—we just wanted to sleep, and sleep we did.

The best momos EVER in Lumbini

We awake just before arriving in Gorakpur. There was a short, but relatively painless scramble to find the now familiar cramped minibus to Sunauli. Three hours later, we arrive in Sunauli and walk to the border. A little paperwork and $40/person later, we're in Nepal. It’s still raining, but we feel liberated. Gone are the pushy salesmen of India! Gone are the scams!


A friendly local directs us to the bus to nearby Lumbini. Before departing, we decided that Lumbini would be a more pleasant place to crash for the night than Sunauli. Now having done it, I'd stick with this assessment. I even half wish we had stayed there for the day as Lumbini is a small destination in its own right, being the birthplace of Buddha and all. A day should be more than enough for most people though.

A harrowing bus ride

In the morning, it was still raining. At 6 am, we board a bus to Pokhara that we booked through the hotel—as we would find out shortly, however, this would not be our last bus of the day.

The non-local tourist buses onward depart from Sunauli, so we first take a connecting bus ride there. An hour later, we board the bus for Pokhara in Sunauli. The ride was bumpy, but that was that was the least of our troubles.

A few hours into the (supposedly) 6-hour trip, we hit our first snag. Traffic lined up as far as the eye could see—a bridge was out apparently. After waiting for what seemed like about an hour, the bus owner waves us all off the bus and herds us onto a smaller local bus. I don’t think he wanted to put his bus through what he had planned for us.

Now on our third bus, we turned down a small road into a valley. The cramped bus drives down an even bumpier road until it dead ends at a river... or so we thought. THE BUS DRIVES RIGHT THROUGH THE RIVER AND KEEPS GOING!! On a particularly bad bump in the road, someone sitting on the rear bench seat is bounced hard enough to hit the ceiling. At this point in the journey, we were still highly amused by it all.

The bus plods on slowly, going back to the main drag and eventually on through Chitwan event-free. Our lunch stop was less than desirable, most likely a consequence of being switched to a local bus.

Obstacle #3: river fording

After lunch, we come to our second obstacle on this course: an overflowing river. At least one truck got stuck, requiring the locals to get out and push across some rather swift and treacherous-looking currents. Amazingly, they all sported shit-eating grins from ear to ear. This sort of thing is a regular occurrence to them; maybe it’s their only source of entertainment. Once our turn comes, of course our super bus has no problem powering its way across, although I did feel the bus being forced down current maybe 50 cm.

Given stories I’ve heard, I’m sure that more than one bus has capsized here. The locals seem almost proud to regale us with tales of overturned buses, or buses tumbling down the mountainside in a landslide. Mother Nature can be a real bitch before she’s had her coffee, it appears.

We weren't out of the proverbial water just yet. Further down the road, we hit our next roadblock: this time a landslide. We waited for at least an hour or two. Then, just when it seemed like we’d either have to either stay the night or walk across and take our chances finding a new bus, the road gets cleared. We had actually chosen the latter and walked towards the damage when things started moving. Not entirely enamored with our local bus, we elect to hitch a ride in a tourist bus for the remainder of the trip.

Now in our fourth bus, it’s already dinnertime. After a brief stop at a much nicer place than lunch, we hit our final obstacle in the outskirts of Pokhara. As a recurring theme it took us quite a while to find out exactly what was happening, but we finally piece together that there was a fatal accident up ahead involving a motorcycle and a bus. Remember to wear your helmet, people!

By this point, I felt the onset of sickness, starting to develop a fever. The 14 hours now in four buses were taking their toll. With all the weather we had seen to this point, I was starting to think we were cursed or something.

A fellow rider put things in perspective a bit though. His words of wisdom: we all have the same luck. True enough—we were all stuck in this together. We even all have the same chance of getting sick. I should have expected such sagely advice from the country that gave us Buddhism.

Another hour of waiting and possibly even a bribe to the policemen later, we finally enter the home stretch of our voyage. Through torrential rains, two rivers, a landslide and an accident, 15 hours and four buses is what it took to get to Pokhara.


As I mentioned in the opening, Nepal can and will show you the harsh and unforgiving nature of... nature. Shortly after our arrival in Pokhara, a group of tourists died in an avalanche climbing nearby Mount Annapurna in the opening thralls of climbing season. As we found out, monsoons are not to be taken lightly, especially on poorly-maintained roads. Accidents can and do happen. If it is raining, it might be worth staying put for another day to wait for things to subside.

On the flip side, the natural beauty of Nepal is truly a sight to behold. In clear weather, a ride from Pokhara to Sunauli or Kathmandu will take you up on jaw-dropping cliffs along mountain rivers and through undulating hills. Behind what would pass as the mountains in any other country, the Himalayas add yet another snowy layer to the backdrop.

I was sick for 3-4 days in Pokhara following this trip, but I couldn't think of a more pleasant place to veg out. Very nice little town. More on that next time.

On the bus ride from Pokhara to Kathmandu

Visa details

The visa process for Nepal is straightforward. Visas are available upon arrival at $25 for 15 days, $40 for 30 days and $100 for 90 days. You’ll need a passport photo.

Also, be mindful that if you plan on returning to India, a multiple stay visa for India requires you to give them your detailed itinerary back home when you apply for the visa. Others have told us that refraining from doing so requires you to spend 2 months out of India before returning.

We think we would've been ok as we gave our itinerary in Tokyo and our visas didn't have any language to that effect. We flew from Kathmandu directly to our connecting flight from Delhi to Istanbul on the way out though, so didn't get a chance to find out. Note that we are American and Japanese, and we applied for our Indian visas in Japan.

Turkey: the other other white meat

Ok, I'm going to try something a little bit different. After India and Nepal, we've arrived here in Turkey. Before giving any kind of recap on things, we'll start you off the same way we start our travels: with the plan.

With such a long trip, it's hard for us to really plan things too far in advance. We don't carry guidebooks as they take up too much space; we tend to rely more on word of mouth and the internet. As such, we do essentially no research on locations until we arrive in a country.

For instance, upon arriving in Turkey, we spent the first day wandering the streets of Istanbul chasing down accommodations from a list compiled before departing Kathmandu, then the second day planning a basic itinerary for our month here. We don't really make any hard plans, and we don't make reservations for anything more than one step ahead of where we are to maintain flexibility.

With that, here's what we came up with for Turkey:

Istanbul

The city with a foot in Europe and Asia, Istanbul was my first (!) time stepping foot in Europe. Istanbul is a great introduction to Turkey and the center of modern Turkish culture. A charming city, it combines old treasures from the days of Constantinople and the Byzantines with the bustling vigor of a modern metropolis. Here, you can see treasures such as the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia in Sultanahmet, then hop a tram and cross the bridge up to Beyoglu and Taksim Square for shopping, bars and fine cuisine along cobblestone streets branching from the main drag of Istiklal. We stayed in Karakoy, just across the bridge from Sultanahmet, but downhill from Beyoglu.

A budget-buster to be sure, but a worthwhile one. How can you worry about money when washing down kebabs and baklava with Turkish tea in those cute little tulip glasses?

Selcuk

Located at the northern edge of the Turkish Riviera, the small town of Selcuk is home to the well-preserved ruins of the Roman city of Ephasus (Efes in Turkish) and plenty of other sites of Biblical significance. It's also a short hop away from the hot springs of Pamukkale and ruins of Aphrodisias. Selcuk is supposed to have a lot more character than nearby Izmir and seems more centrally located for what we want to see, so we decided to give it a shot.

Fethiye

Situated directly on Turkey's Mediterranean coast, Fethiye is at the heart of the Turkish Riviera and the start of the ancient Lycian Way. Upon viewing the Lycian tombs here, sampling the local Mediterranean cuisine and taking a dip in the pristine waters of Olu Deniz, we plan to board a heavenly four-day cruise on a gulet tracing the Lycian Way down the coast. 

Antalya

Antalya is the final destination of our planned cruise. Akemi loves beaches and we have yet to break out the swimsuits, so these last two stops should hopefully help us get our fix of water fun in the sun. We're at the tail end of the summer season here so don't know if it'll be warm enough for a dip, but expect phenomenal views regardless.

Cappadocia

The fairy chimneys of Cappadocia are one of the only attractions that we knew for sure we wanted to see before stepping foot in Turkey. This volcanic region is pocked with small caves which sheltered early Christians fleeing persecution. It still holds early churches and other relics of antiquity amidst the rocky backdrops. We look forward to going stone age and maybe taking a trip in a hot air balloon if our wallet isn't burning by that time.


From Cappadocia, we'll stop back in Istanbul for another night or two before moving on to our next destination. We have a month set aside for this part of the trip.

Have you been to any of our stops in Turkey and have any tips to make our trip better? Appalled that we left off your favorite stop? Let us know in the comments!

Khajuraho: Mr. Nice Guy?

After letting things settle in my head for a few weeks, I have decided to post this. I wrote the majority of this post right after it happened, but I have removed the personal details and added some observations in retrospect. Enjoy. 

September 12, 2012, 12:49 am. 
On the train from Khajuraho to Varanasi.

Indians continue to be utterly baffling—as soon as we think we’re starting to figure them out somewhat, they go and do something that throws us off, or we just meet someone that changes our whole conception of what to expect.

First, we meet nothing but crooks in Delhi and think we need to just keep our heads down and avoid everyone. Then we meet people like Badal out in Khuri, and our hope in the Indian race is restored.

Streets of Jaisalmer

Next, in Jaisalmer, we met Kuku, the first guy to approach us on the street and offer us chai without trying to sell us anything. We had a great conversation with him about a great deal of things, but his most revealing quote as it relates to this topic basically boiled down to it all being about “putting food in mouths”—basically, he meant that it’s all about the money.

The more we get around, I think he might be onto something. The more people we talk to, the more we find that the poorest people tend to be the pushiest about trying to get you to buy something you don’t want or to get you into their shops, while many of the relaxed conversations—including that with Kuku—were with the relatively more affluent (middle class). This adage held true in Jodhpur when talking to the family that ran the guest house we used.

Probably our most confusing encounter to date, however, was a guy we met at a cafe in Khajuraho. We’ll call him Kumar. Kumar was our waiter and gave us some good information, so we left a good tip and went on our way. We came back the next day for lunch and talked to Kumar again, and he invited us to dinner in his village. After having an excellent experience when invited into someone’s home in Egypt a few years back, I figured this might be our best chance to see some of the kindness of Indian village people I hear others raving about so much. We exchanged numbers.

Sunset at the Khajuraho western temples

Kumar met us later in front of our hotel and took us back to his home. We had a traditional Indian dinner with him and his family; afterward, his wife and sisters showered Akemi with gifts of jewelry, dressing her up in Hindi fashion. He asks our plans for the next day, so we wind up making plans to go to nearby Raneh Falls with him and his wife. At this point, we felt we had found a truly kind soul.

The next day, Kumar arranges the rickshaw and we head to the falls. We had a great time—I planned on paying for everything to make up for the gifts the night before, and he seemed fine with that, almost as if he took it as granted.

In hindsight, I think his feeling may have stemmed from my response during a conversation the previous night in which he shared his meager salary and asked about mine. [Note to self: avoid this question like the plague as money can only obstruct friendship.]

On the way back, he told us we had to pay for the rickshaw too—400 rupees, a bit steep. “He’s taking a commission,” I think, but he’s a nice guy, so I just chalk it up to him doing his job and pay. After all, with all the beggars and sad kids out there looking for a handout, my conclusion has been that, short of volunteering, paying people to do their job and tipping when appropriate is the best way I can contribute to the local economy. Besides, getting an authentic glimpse into the household and everyday lives of a local family is easily worth a few hundred rupees.

Us at Raneh Falls

Back to our story, Kumar insists we come to dinner again; we accept, thinking this was the end.

At dinner, Kumar again asks our plans for the next day. We just wanted to relax for our last day, so we say we might get a massage. He insists we come to dinner again the third night, which I thought I politely refused, but told him it was ok to call the next day (to say goodbye). The nice guy is starting to overstep his boundaries. [Note to self: be firm in refusals with Indians, leaving no room for misunderstanding.]

The next day, things just got weird. We wake up and check out of the hotel, then go set up what turned out to be a rather pleasant Ayurvedic massage across the street from our hotel at one Ayur Arogyam. As I’m running to the ATM, Kumar calls and I tell him our plans. He again seems hellbent on setting something up for us himself. I tell him that we had already paid and will call him when we’re done.

After starting the massage he starts blowing up my phone, calling at least five times in the space of as many minutes. I shut off my phone as he was killing the battery—besides, talking to him then would just kill the massage vibes. When I finally do call Kumar back, he insists on dinner again. I refuse and turn the phone off a second time.

From that point on—all through dinner and until we left for the station—Kumar permeated my every thought. We arrive at the train station, ready to leave Khajuraho and put some space between us and Kumar, still wondering what this guy’s deal is... THEN HE SHOWS UP AT THE STATION!!! Not only that, but bearing more gifts!!! Let me tell you—that was an awkward hour, sitting with him waiting for the train.

He kept us guessing until the very end whether he was just being nice with this final visit or making one last push for more money. In the end, however, he just left us with a handshake and a farewell. A pleasantly confusing ending to a confusing story.

So I sat on the train, wondering. Was he just a nice guy, or was the whole thing a low-pressure ruse to get some commission out of us from the get-go? Did he just want to play the generous host, or was Kuku right and this low-wage guy was just being blinded by the prospect of rupees? Should I have just totally ducked the money talk when it started aiming my way, or was his preoccupation with money in the first place to blame? (I’m going with yes on both counts to that last one.)

I don’t think there has to be a clear-cut answer to these questions. My current guess is that like so many other things in life, the answers are not black and white, but rather shades of gray. Kumar is a nice guy with an interest in the world outside Khajuraho who is trying to put food on the table for him and his fledgling family. Maybe he’s also a bit of a salesman—hell, everyone else in India is—but no one just out for the money would go through all the trouble of inviting you into their home and introducing you to their wife and mother. With Kuku in the back of my head, I also can’t help but think that Kumar would be more pleasant if he weren’t making just 2,000 rupees a month (plus my tips and commission).

I also want to shake some sense into him to let him know when he just needs to back off. While I do realize how much a tip of 50 rupees here and a 100-rupee commission there can mean to someone in such a situation, it’s truly a shame that the prospect of a few rupees can corrupt such a nice guy.

On the flip side, I think other Indians could take a lesson from young Kumar in giving tourists an experience they’re willing to pay for. This requires more effort and a bit of interest on their part, but it pays off. I’m sure he got something out of it as well, or else he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble. We got to learn more about each other’s cultures, and I don’t mind paying a commission for the experience.

I’m not sure if our experience with Kumar has changed my impression of Indians for better or worse. After all, at the end of the day he’s just one guy out of 1.2 billion in a country wide enough to take 36 hours to traverse east to west by train. He did somewhat shape our impression of Khajuraho though.

I guess if there’s anything to take away from this experience, it would be how much people shape our impression of the places we go. Seeing the highlights and attractions somewhere takes a few days at most; seeing the people can take a lifetime if you let it. I don’t think I’ll ever go back to Delhi after our experiences there, but I’d go back to Jodhpur in a heartbeat and regret not spending more time in Jaisalmer. The jury is still out on Khajuraho, but it would be interesting to see if Kumar grows any with more experience. Live and learn.