I may have overdone it, taken it one step too far. You see I love Indian food. The tastes, the spices and the warm naan bread. Poppadoms and dips, the varied thalis, biryani rice dishes (the list goes on) are so good. But after only 2 weeks in India, gouging on the stuff continuously, every meal, it has already got me to the stage where my taste buds have said enough, I just don't feel like eating the stuff. I am rather craving for a big juicy steak with garlic butter gravy, mashed potato and a couple boiled veges (green beans and carrots please). Oh, I can tell you now, that would be just so good! I haven't eaten any meat for a long time although I think I once had mutton (goat) and possibly I have had chicken but I really can't remember when (I may have only dreamt about it, I am not sure). Up until recently I didn't care, vegetarian chickpeas and dahl were just so good (and cheap). Chunks of paneer cheese with different sauces (my favorite palak paneer). Yum. But then it went wrong. I don't think I got sick but my stomach has felt queasy for a few days and since then I just don't feel like it. Maybe I have become anti-pregnant and instead of cravings I am having anti-cravings. Whatever the case it has to change. KFC tonight?

Started this part of my journey in New Delhi and straight away was reacquainted with some of the pleasantries of backpacking through India. Departing from the airport terminal the taxi drivers were all asking my destination as they fought over my fare. Fortunately I had pre-booked a hotel close to the airport so an easy 'no thanks' as I kept walking seemed to have the desired affect, or, at least I thought I had booked a relatively close hotel. It was night and the hotel map on the booking site had shown the hotel only 2km walk. With my heavy backpack in place the walk wasn't too bad except the two times I had to try to cross the motorway without being curried, and the hot weather, and the hotel not being where it was supposed to be. Instead there was an industrial factory, the guard didn't know where it was and helpfully rang the hotel. Seemed it was further up the road. Another 2km later didn't improve my mood and after another phone call, this time from a shop, they said they would pick me up. So 2 guys on a motorbike arrived, meaning, 3 people, a 20kg backpack and my 6kg day pack on a small motorbike. Made for a few close shaves in slipping off the seat but after another 1km we made it. My already frayed mood after being conned into choosing this hotel because of location wasn't helped in seeing the hotel name different to what I had booked. "Haven't changed the sign," they said, "wasn't born yesterday," I thought. Anyway it was now nearly 10pm and I wanted a bed. Next issue was the additional taxes placed on the room. Showing my original booking on my tablet (with no taxes) they begrudgingly relented but took a photo of my confirmation number. Next bit of fun in an already hilarious night came after going up to my stiflingly (a word?) hot room, the air conditioning didn't work. "Someone to come soon, 10 minutes". Hmmm. Now I was mightily pissed by this stage and when after 15 minutes I was still no cooler and an email arrived saying I had cancelled the booking of the hotel I was staying in, (took me about 2 seconds to remember the photo they took of the confirmation number and it seems, the pin number to control the booking) I stormed back to reception, ripped into the guy running the show, who had the nerve to say that he nor anyone else had cancelled the booking. Air conditioning repair guy was supposedly still only 10 minutes away too. Having had enough I camped myself in the reception, dirty looks towards the staff weren't taxed either, under my breathe abusive comments were loud enough to be made out. They had a chat together and made a phone call. So this 18 year old hotel staff member comes up to me and says "he" owns another hotel which is better and I should go with him. As it turned out after a 10 minute walk the new hotel was better, and cooler. Look, don't read too much into this. Shit happens, dodgy people exist everywhere (especially trying to take advantage of new arrivals). Since that first night nothing like this has happened. After all, this is India, all is great except, at the moment, the food.

Sense No.1 - Hearing

Beep, beep, beep.......beep, you get the drift, India is a 'horn' country. Any road with cars or motorcycles (all of them) and you will be greeted by a chorus of horns. Ride in a tuk-tuk and some of those horns seem to blare out at decibels mimicking a rock band on heat. It's full on. It seems to be a prerequisite to give a toot to tell another driver you are passing. Traffic is chaotic (all of India is chaotic) and so it partially makes sense. It just seems some people have decided to use this device as a breathing aid, a breathe = a blast, rather than use as it is needed. It does have its uses though. During all this visit I stayed in hotels located in areas of alleyways and with impatient motorbikes rabbiting through these narrow passages a premeditated honk (or in many cases a continuous blast) saves many an accident.

Sense No.2 - Seeing

Other than New Delhi the other city in India I visited was Varanasi, the holy city on the river Ganges. The Ganges is seen by Hindus as sacred and so people bath in its polluted waters, ironically, to cleanse themselves spiritually. Early morning boat trips along the river to visit the many Ghats (entrances to the river usually via stairs) shows Indian life play out. People, some dressed in elegant clothing wash their faces, douse themselves or swim in the early morning cool. During the boat trip I also spotted from afar a floating corpse, as Hindus who die in certain ways aren't allowed to be cremated and so are weighed down and sunk to the bottom of the river, sometimes temporarily it seems. For the others, who are fortunate enough to afford it there are burning ghats where cremations performed here break the cycle of reincarnation (which I believe is a good thing as it means that you have obtained a high level of spirituality). It really is mind blowing watching a dead person, wrapped in cloth and glistening foil being brought down to the banks of the river on a stretcher, chants from the pall bearers and family, who are following close behind. The body is then bathed in the river before a drying process begins. Eventually the body is loaded onto pre-laid logs (costs vary between different types of wood, wood is weighed precisely depending on the body weight of the person) and then covered with the remaining wood. The wood is set alight by the Doms (cremation workers) and can take around 3 hours to finish the process of ashes to ashes. Watching as the bodies burn bring self examination of one's own limited existence. Oh well, shit happens. Better things to worry about.

Sense No.4 - Touch

It is really hot in India. Especially in the lead up to monsoon. The locals look forward to the 90 days of full on rain monsoon brings and now that I have experienced pre-monsoon weather, I fully concur. Hot and sticky. Everyday over 40 degrees, tough caper. It sure doesn't help that India is so full of people. With these megatudes come many situations when you are stuck in a crowd bustling your way to a destination. Bumping with the occasional push (by me?) becomes mandatory. Personal space rockets into outer space. Mixed with the aforementioned weather makes you want to find a cool, peaceful, quiet room. Yoga anyone?

PS. Never shake the hand of someone trying to get you into their shop, or for any other reason (within reason). Sometimes it takes quite a bit of pulling to get it back again once they realize you don't want to buy what they are selling. They just want to keep you around for a bit of chatting of course, but you really know their motive is more to do with a lot of coercing. A hard yank allows you keep moving (with arm intact).

Sense No.5 - Smell

Walking through a busy alleyway, past an open air pissant, where men do their thing, (in conjunction with the stifling heat) is an odor I am not hoping to revisit anytime soon. The rats and mice didn't seem to mind but smells come with poverty. India has improved over the years but poverty and its associated smells are still everywhere. It is not uncommon to see a pile of rubbish as you round a corner. I am sure it will get cleaned up but not sure how regularly. Beggars (who don't normally smell) are quite common especially in the tourist areas (I usually give to people outside these areas and who don't push their cause, or, who aren't even begging at all but obviously need help). It really is disheartening and sad. But not all the smells of India relate to poverty. Traffic pollution (in Delhi) was horrendous. I have read Delhi is one of the most polluted cities going. Not good, not healthy. But not of the all Indian smells are bad. Drumroll........yes it my old friend Indian food. Pass a restaurant or outdoor stalls and your nostrils are in for a spice delight. As for my food issue, I'm sure it's just a blip on the radar. Here's waiting for the good times to once again start rolling.

Appendum (for my future reading)

Well it has now been over a month since I left India (although I will be back in a few days) and at last I have worked out my food problem. I have not felt great for the last 4 weeks. My stomach has often felt queasy and many days I have not the energy to enjoy my travelling. The food I want to eat is very plain and when I try spicy, fatty or dairy products the symptoms reappear with a vengeance. My trekking has been extra tough and I had previously put it down to either heat or altitude (now in the Himalayas in Nepal). It wasn't until a few days ago when the situation really deteriorated and then a symptom (let's not get into it) appeared that I recalled I had had this issue before. Giardia, a tummy bug, can hang around for months if untreated. Now on medication, feeling somewhat better, let's hope that is the end of that. Indian food, (after a few more days of treatment) here I come.

UAE

Dubai

Before Asia I had a stopover in the UAE and so I thought, why not, and hung around the area for a week. Went straight to Dubai after landing in Abu Dhabi on a free bus provided by the airline, thanks. Admittedly I had a fairly bad outlook as to how I would find Dubai. Rich cities that 'create' attractions don't usually sit well with me and rich this city definitely is. The crane industry is booming here, buildings springing up left, right and center. The city is really well spread out with areas of multitudes of skyscrapers, creating the feel that Dubai is a series of mini cities with areas of industry and desert between. Hotels are so plentiful that to stay in one of the bigger name places only costs around US$30 a night (breakfast included anyone?) The transport system is first class with trains arriving at stations every 5 minutes and air-conditioning keeps the trains nice and cool. This was important as during my whole time in the region every day was 40C degrees with the night only dropping to 30C. This severely restricted my outdoor activities. So I spent days pretending to shop in Dubai mall (world's largest) and saw the dancing fountains (wow he said sarcastically). What seemed to be all the major world brands are congregated within this mall including all those luxury brands. You could see why when one time I left the mall to get some photos outside of the Burj Khalifa (world's tallest building) I was confronted by Rolls Royces, what looked like armour plated Mercedes SUV's and other cars that smelled of money parked in the 'special' places directly outside the front doors. So did my opinion of Dubai change from my negative pre-trip perspective? Look, the place feels ultra safe and maybe if you lived here and worked out the goings on it may turn out to be good. I definitely didn't hate it but I definitely would need a good reason to go back and stay. I can't imagine what that reason would be though.

Oman

Muscat

After a few days in Dubai I hopped on a bus for the 8 hour trip to Muscat the capital of Oman. Again, the heat was full on but without the train system I had previously got used to I was walking about (aka. sweating) much more often. The port area was pleasant to walk around and the souk (shopping area) behind this area was interesting as a way to get out of the sun and, as it turned out, to find a hairdresser. All that time in Australia and NZ and I knew I badly needed a cut and yet I had to wait till I found a country where men's barbers have no idea what long hair is. To cut a long story short my long hair ended up getting cut way short. I had explained to him a number of times about the length I wanted but my Bangladeshi hairdresser just couldn't resist. In fairness to him it could have been a much worse cut and, I could have spoken out much earlier for him to stop, so let's leave it there. Other than the port area I also ended up at the main mosque, Sultan Qaboos Main Mosque.