16 januari 1998: With Gulf Air from Amsterdam to Calcutta.
The planned journey would start at Amsterdam, then go to Paris, then go to
Bahrain, and from there to Abu Dhabi, with as final destination Delhi. The food
in the first flight consisted of many things, but started with cookies and tea.
The windows were scratched badly, so you could hardly see what was happening
outside. There was a slight delay on the trip to Paris. I hadn't expected the
flight to go through all these cities, but I didn't really mind. Flying is fun.
The plane was a 767, in fact, all planes were 767s. It's weird though, such a
short trip to France, with almost no people on board, at 23000'. Of course, I
could already start practicing my Arabic, and discovered the following words:
<![CDATA[
Al-Khaliij: The Gulf (this was in my dictionary, but the way it was written,
with all the florishes, made it impossible for me to
decipher it without the help of a stewardess).
Makhrej: Exit
Khuruuj: Exit (this one was in my dictionary)
]]>
From the magazine I learned many more Arabic words, of which I used some during
my trip in Oman, like Inshaalah (Perhaps, God willing), Shukran (Thank you. I
actually had figured this out before my trip) and Marhaba (Hello).
The trip ended in Bahrain, where there was a huge delay with my connection to
Delhi (I arrived at 20:15, and eventually left at 3:15 the next day). So I got
a calling card from Gulf Air, to call Sounak to tell him that
I was late. This call never reached him, but I got to speak to his `didi', who
had been sleeping and didn't understand anything, except that I was from
Switzerland and that I was delayed. I also got a meal from Gulf Air, but this
consisted of cold food, and the cold chicken was going to pose lots of problems
later on. At the airport I had a great time though, talking to all sorts of
people, mostly Indian people that were going to India, like a couple that went
there from London to go to a funeral, which they were going to miss (the
funeral would of course not be delayed for them, as it was planned on an
auspicious moment).
In the mean time I slowly started reading `Les Liasons Dangereux', and talked
to some German people that wanted to go to Goa. I suggested they should go to
Mumbai instead, and take the bus from there, as they would miss their Indian
Air flight from Delhi with the delayed flight, and there were no flights with
Indian Air the next few days. But their travel agency said they should go to
Delhi and await further instructions there. So they did, even though Gulf Air
offered to transport them to Mumbai instead.
17 januari 1998: With Gulf Air from Bahrain to Delhi
I arrived in Delhi at 9:30 after a very interesting flight: Gulf Air had so
many problems that they decided to put me and an American woman that came into
the plane at the same time as I did in business class. We had a great time
talking and enjoyed all the features (own television, food served on china,
lots of leg room) that business class had to offer. It was clear that the
service of Gulf Air during emergencies was excellent, but in general it was
very bad. It seemed that they were better prepared for emergencies than for
normal flights. In Delhi Sounak was waiting and immediately shouted at me,
amazed that I was the first to leave the plane. I also converted some money
(f200,-). He didnt mind the delay, as he had called some friends to talk to
and such. I then discovered that he had hired his own van and driver, with
which we travelled first to his uncle's place, where his `didi' was as well,
all fresh and clear and speaking English with a wonderful voice, which was so
good that I wondered why she didn't understand me on the phone earlier.
At this place I got the opportunity to refresh myself, and got all kinds of
sweet things to eat. Both his uncle and didi were very nice, and enjoyed their
company. After this he drove me around Delhi, showed me the red fort and the
lotus flower temple which were both awesome buildings. Unfortunately because
of the delay I didn't have much time to see red fort, there were many things
I would've enjoyed seeing there. After a vegetable burger meal in a real fast
food restaurant (not one like in Kharagpur, which I enjoyed on my first trip to
India) we went to the train station, and I got onto the Radhjani express to
Calcutta. This train, according to the announcement, would drive a maximum
speed of 130 kilometers/hour, with a total travel time of 17 hours and 30
minutes and a total distance of 1544 kilometers to be covered. I looked
forward to all this. In the train lots of things happened, like tea that was
offered, and meals, and a group of people that had a baby. The baby cried
occasionally, but was hushed quiet as soon as possible. I slept reasonably
well too, though the air conditioning made the journey quite cold.
19 januari 1998: Calcutta
The trip by train was excellent, even though it got colder and colder, and I
eventually was wearing the coat that I at first thought I shouldn't have
brought, but which became more and more useful in India. After I arrived I saw
Gargi-didi and Tanuja at the train station, and met Ratna-didi as well. In all,
a warm welcome. We went to Garia, while Tanuja complained a bit about the long
distance of the trip. I thought Garia was in a nice place, far away from
Calcutta, Tanuja seemed to like Calcutta better, though. We had lunch, and then
I went to sleep, during which I missed talking to Ratna-didi and Tanuja. I saw
a Bengal wedding of a friend of Gargi-didi later, and made lots of pictures
there. It is a really interesting happening, and includes all sorts of
ceremonies. The bride and groom were very careful about everything they did,
and were always afraid to do something wrong. The ritual involves the bride
walking in circles around the groom, while some people make noises with they
mouth or with musical instruments. Later a fire is lighted (in the living room)
and things are burned in it.
Gargi-didi is feeding me all sorts of things, and I am slowly getting used to
the food again, even though I have some stomach problems (which later turned
out to have been caused by the chicken mentioned earlier, that I ate in
Bahrain). According to Gargi-didi it is necessary for me to go to the
foreigners registration office, this will happen later this week.
We also went shopping for books, and met Tanuja again. I was a bit upset by all
the books that I had to carry back to the Netherlands, but I succeeded in this
as well.
21 januari 1998: The train from Calcutta to Siliguri
The foreigners registration office and the travel agency, to which we both
went, were both rather unnecessary, though the map we got of Darjeeling proved
quite useful eventually. Now I am in the train to Darjeeling. Calcutta was
still similar to what I had imagined it, though I met Tanuja, saw the
planetarium and got to know the fountain better. There were some parts of the
Indian museum that I hadn't seen yet, but the part that I wanted to visit most,
about arts, was closed. Gargi-didi's sister has joined us in the trip to
Darjeeling, it was cold (20 degrees celcius) and it will get colder. It also
rained in Calcutta, and I slipped while we were going to visit her uncle, who
is a nice person (like almost all people in India).
The trip was, as usual, third class, though not busy this time. My stomach is
getting more and more upset and the cold I took with me from the Netherlands
is getting worse. I called Wim to inform him all was going well, and Sounak has
been informed of my arrival as well. The only thing left to do is recofirming
my plane tickets.
But the next day we arrived in Siliguri, and immediately took a rickshaw to the
bus station, from where we took the bus to Darjeeling. If I had known what the
trip would've been like, I think I wouldn't have done it in the condition I
had, but I did it, and enjoyed it even... The mountains were beautiful, even
though they are considered hills compared to the Himalaya, which is close (and
even the same), and the sun was shining, and I was sleepy, making me forget all
my unhappy thoughts. In Darjeeling we were caught by a hotel owner, and were
directed to Mount Pleasant. There they had a room for the three of us, but
unfortunately the room heater was unable to heat the room satisfactory, so I
had to sleep in my coat. Ther was no hot water either, so washing was rather
problematic as well.
So the first thing I did the next day was get a new room in another hotel. This
took most of the morning, but the new hotel, Chanakya, was very good and
pleasant. In the mean time we went to a Buddhist temple, which I had never seen
before. They are very colourful, and I am certain I could spend at least
half a year there and not stop enjoying to look at all the things that were
there. In a side room there were big copper barrels with sanskrit inscriptions
that one could turn. Gargi-didi turned one, and Kalyani turned one as well,
but then a man arrived and showed that they should be turned the other way
around, and said `Ohm ami Dewashi' and `Ohm ami Pemehum' while doing this.
We also checked the times of the steam train that goes from Siliguri to
Darjeeling and back, as Gargi-didi thought it might be a good idea to take it
to Ghoom some day. We also planned a trip to tiger hill, but it was difficult
to get a taxi, as it was low season and there weren't many people that wanted
to go there.
24 januari 1998: Darjeeling
At the moment I am sitting on about 2000 meters height from sea level, the sun
is shining, I only have a little belly ache which isn't bothering me, and am
feeling allright. There are clouds everywhere around me, and still, these are
called `hills'. It is also obvious why: in front of me, high above the highest
clouds, far away in the distance there is a small spot that doesn't move. It is
a part of the Himalaya covered in snow. This is Darjeeling, a wonderful place
to be once you get used to it. I am finally alone, Gargi-didi is at home,
waiting for the lunch, her sister is sleeping. I put a new film in my camera
and take lots of pictures. I'm curious about the trip back to Calcutta.
Now I am sitting in Keventer's, a rather western snackbar where they have
wonderful cheese omelets that you wouldn't get anywhere in Europe. My belly
likes them a lot. The people of Darjeeling are not just Indian in origin: there
are also people from Nepal and perhaps even China, making the streets a very
oriental place indeed.
We went to Tiger Hill, where we saw the sun-rise and the Himalaya. There was a
roof from where you could supposedly see things better, but this was just a
means to get money from people. Things were freezing, which was a big surprise
to Gargi-didi and her sister, who claimed to have never seen ice like this.
After the jeep went back we visited another Buddhist temple, and the railroad
loop, which circles a war monument. We got wonderful tickets for this monument.
The railway loop is still in service, so it is much cheaper to see it all by
just buying a train ticket.
At some point we also visited the art gallery and Lloyd's botanical garden.
Lloyd's botanical garden is build on a hill (what else, in Darjeeling?) so you
have to climb up and down lots to see everything. Gargi-didi wasn't really
fond of all this climbing, which had already been proven by the fact that she
didn't want to stay at the youth hostel because it was too high on the hill.
Gargi-didi and her sister asked me to make a list of things that I wanted to
buy in Darjeeling, which I made at Keventer's. We also went to Ghoom with the
steam train, eventually, Gargi-didi had threatened to go to the temple instead
and leave her sister and me to go alone, but eventually she came with us
anyway. Kalyani and me had already seen the temple because of a slight
misunderstanding about a meeting point in Darjeeling. In Ghoom we visited
another Buddhist temple, and we ate Momos. Momos are wonderful and delicious
pieces of vegetables wrapped in dough. They are very soft and usually eaten
with soup. Another thing that I like very much in the Indian cuisine.
26 januari 1998: Bus from Darjeeling to Mirik
Today we go to Mirik by bus, which made Gargi-didi sick. After this we walked
around the lake and visited the temple and the monastry. Mirik is a tourist
trap, and there isn't much real to see. However, there are many Indians that
go there to pick-nick, and together with the upcoming elections this is a
fascinating sight to see. The elections are also present everywhere, as all
members of parties paint things on walls (even though this seems to be
illegal). That night, in Mirik, we wanted to eat Momos, but all restaurants
where closed and all pick-nicking people had gone home. It was dark, but there
were still people around, and they referred us to all sorts of places that
turned out to be closed. Eventually we reached a spot where momos were sold,
a Nepalese woman who gave us a warm and welcome momo-meal, in a place that was
clearly her living room as well as her shop and kitchen. Now I'm back into the
youth hostel, which is empty except for the three of us. The night turned out
to be rather cold, and my quilt itched, but was fine.
28 januari 1998: Bus from Islampur to Baharampur
In Islampur I visited Gargi-didi's father, and saw many intersting sights like
a garden and a machine with which they were grinding stones to make a new
tarmac layer on the road. I also ate Singara (which also exists in Oman, under another name, called
Samosa. They also have a kind of Samosa that is slightly smaller), which I also ate in Siliguri,
where we came after leaving Mirik. I had an interesting conversation with
Gargi-didi's father, who is very intelligent and has travelled to many places.
Now the bus is standing still on a backroad in a village somewhere behind a
truck that can't move further. Sometimes some truck of bus moves near us, but
never more than a meter. Waiting here will probably take quite some time, as
the traffic jam is both on the main road and here. It would probably have been
better to stay on the main road (eventually it turned out that the traffic jam
there had cleared quite some time ago once we got back there). The bus ride
afterwards was fun, we bounced up and down on the back seat, as the bus drove
with terrifying speed to Baharampur.
29 januari 1998: Baharampur
Baharampur is the place where Gargi-didi's mother lives. We finally arrived here
after the traffic jam, which I thought very enjoyable. Now I am here, and there
are some people (and all the mosquitoes) that still know me. The market was the
same, and still very much fun, the food was delicious and soon I'll be going to
do shopping with Gargi-didi's sister. Dinner consisted of rice with fish, curry
and dhal.
30-31 januari 1998: Calcutta
After a trip by train we arrived in Calcutta. I didn't succeed in reconfirming
the flight at first, as there was a holiday, but the next day I succeeded in
this. In Calcutta I met Sharmistha and Anutosh-dada, and we had a great good-
bye meal, of which I ate far too much. Gargi-didi also decided to cut my hair,
and made it into a nice haircut, that Machteld thought looked great.
1 februari 1998: Delhi
Now I am in Delhi, with Sounak. Everything is going well, and I made a list of
things that I still need to see, most of them have to do with the Mughal, as I
got interested in them. Agra was impossible, as it was closed on monday, and I
arrived too late on sunday to still get there in time to see anything. Of
course, I also need to catch the airplane in time. I enjoy the delicious
cooking of Sounak's didi again.
2 februari 1998: Delhi
Unfortunately, because of a slight illness due to the air pollution, I was only
able to see Jama Masjid, the Old fort and buy a book about the Mughal. I also
went to the Minar, where I fell slightly ill. At the Minar there was also the
Vishnu stamva, a pile of iron that didn't rust, which supposedly gives luck if
you are able to circle it. However, they build a fence around it to avoid such
circling (even though people still did it) so I decided not to do it. I'm
lucky enough as it is. Then I went to bed because of the illness, where I am at
the moment I write this. Sounak's didi
is taking good care of me: she's feeding me noodles and tea, which agree well
with my stomach. I also sleep a lot. My father's birthday is today, and I will
also go to Machteld this night. I called Wim and spoke something to him on the
voicemail, but it seemed to have never arrived, even though it was very
expensive from the airport. The minar was very impressive, there was a mosque
and a big garden there as well. Another ruler tried to make an even bigger
tower, but failed. Maybe someone should finish that attempt?
7 februari 1998: Muscat, PDO-camp
I am here and drink Fanta in the shade. The flight went well, Internet is still
not working, so Sounak still doesn't know that the flight went ok. I saw
Muscat, it's palace, it's fort and the way it looks from the top of a hill. I
went on a wadi, with high mountains and water, which passed me like I was
watching television. Two little girls were floating around us at some point.
I read the PDO safety handbook, explaining all the dangers of living abroad
(and even living at home in the Netherlands). Of course, people here don't read
books like that, and just enjoy their lives. It seems to be always warm and
sunny here (I only once saw a little bit of rain while we were driving to the
beach). In the mountains it is slightly colder, but still sunny. I already
drive around in my sister's car, doing shopping and generally making sure that
things are repaired and fixed around her place. I found shells, stones, flat
stones, that consists of layers. Machteld has a very beautiful house, at a nice
spot overlooking some hills near the sea. Oman seems to be India with money and
without snow (though I'm not sure, maybe there is snow somewhere).
8 februari 1998: Muscat, PDO-camp
I went to the fish-souk in Mutra, where they sell small sharks, and where I
bought a pineapple and a mango, which were later made into some delicious
yoghurt. However, both fruits soon turned overripe. It was fun to buy them,
though.
9 februari 1998: Fanja
At Fanja I saw the wadi, and the castle, and walked around, seeing many
trees and the sun. There was a big Faladj system (with little streams of water
used to irrigate the fields).
10 februari 1998: Qurm, CCC
Now I'm sitting at the `Belg', a place where I also was sitting a week ago,
when my sister took me here the noon after I had arrived in Muscat. It is
quiet, I have brought the films to a place where they can be developed, put
the post cards in the mail and am going to enjoy the soup ("I think we were
meant to eat the soup"). Everything is going well, and today I'll be going to
Nakhl and am going to drink tea now. The `Belg' is one of those places that
only exists because of all the ex-dutch people that are living here, and like
a place like this. It's in the CCC (Capital Commerce Centre) near the
McDonalds. In the CCC there are all sorts of shops, like a souk, and a big
supermarket called the Prisunic, which is known to be quite expensive, though
if you select well it can be cheap as well.
11 februari 1998: Qurm, McDonalds
Qurm is actually a place in Muscat, like Ruwi and Mutra. Of course I had to try
the vegetable burger at McDonalds, and I must say that it still tastes the same
as in the Netherlands. I read the Times of Oman, something that very few people
do: read newspapers. At least, not in the PDO-camp. So I know more about the
situation in Iraq and such than most people. I did some pinball with the
Star Trek Next Generation at the CCC and bought vinegar and nails, vinegar
mostly to clean Machteld's water boiler. Yesterday night we went to the
Mutra-souk, which reminds you of the times of Alladin, many narrow alleys and
people selling all sorts of things. There we could get good fruit juice,
incense, irritating alarm clocks and silver work. Afterwards we went to
Allaudin, where we ate Indian food. However, it didn't really agree well with
my stomach, also because of all the Biryani-herbs (?) that they add to the food
there, because that is something the Omani seem to like. If the Mutra Souk
hadn't had those white displays with light, and the plastic toys, it would've
been a really reminder of what Arabia used to be like.
12 februari 1998: Marco's place
We ate great Lasagna al verdi and Insalata mista here, and afterwards we
started to listen to music. People started to dance as well, and I left at the
moment that Marco's stereo broke down. I went to bed, but forgot that Machteld
didn't have a key, she came home at 1:00 AM. This day I also went to Yitti,
which is a beach, and had a graeat time there watching various interesting
animals, trying to take a good picture of a crab, and searching for wonderful
shells and stones. There are green anemones, orange fish, sea cucumbers (small
ones) and such everywhere. To get there we went through a wadi, and on the way
back I did some off-road driving, which went relatively well, though I prefer
just to be a passenger in a car. Driving is not something I would do for fun.
Valentine's day: Muscat -> Abu Dhabi, 24000'
Accha, there I go again. The flight will be short, I doubt we'll get much food
(a cookie and tea, it turned out). I read books, made a beach-walk where I
found even more shells, which are now at my parent's place, and watched the
bull-fighting, which is not what you think. The whole purpose is that two
pulls try to push each other out of a circle. It's very peaceful, and the most
interesting for us was watching the Omanis watching this, and the Omanis
greatly enjoyed watching us take pictures of these bulls.
15 februari 1998: Above Paris
Paris is really beautiful, at night, when viewed from above. And I also got
to see the sunrise on Vlissingen and Middelburg from above, which was amazing
as well.
Other notes
At some point I also went with a mother of one of the children of Machteld's school to a figure skating
rink (figure a figure skating rink at a place where it is over 45 degrees celcius in summer), where I
met quite a few nice people, including one mother and child from India, with whom I talked for some
time. The child actually knew a little bit of Bengali, and mostly the same words that I knew, which was
fun. I decided not to skate, but watch the skating instead. This way you learn how difficult it actually
is to achieve what one sees on television.