Foot in the World
India - Nepal - Thailand -
Hong Kong - Macao
Almost missing the flight...
As a KLM Frequent Flyer, we went to Amsterdam and from there we went to New Delhi. We planned everything well. The flight to Delhi, the day after our arrival, would be in the afternoon. That way, we could still enjoy the city a little longer. But, after a night out in Amsterdam, we woke up at 8 am, still sleepy, and decided to check our ticket again. We were shocked. In fact, our flight to New Delhi was not in the afternoon, but at 10 am. We literally jumped out of bed. We got dressed quickly and called the reception to say that we needed to check out and get a taxi to the airport urgently.
We ran down, got into the taxi and the driver asked us the flight time. When we told him, he sped off. The street was slippery, with a thin layer of ice. We arrived at the airport quickly, got out of the car and ran to check in. Boarding was already open.
Anyone who knows Schiphol airport will understand our drama. We ran through that huge airport to our boarding gate, which was very far away. When we arrived, we were wet with sweat, had not showered, had not had breakfast and still had the taste of “staircase handrails” in our mouths, because of the night out in bars. We were the last to board.
After a twelve-hour flight, we arrived in New Delhi. It was already past midnight. We had booked a hotel recommended by a Brazilian friend who had an Indian boyfriend. We took a prepaid taxi from the airport, a great tip from Jussara. But, in addition to the driver, another person also got into the front seat. We thought it was strange and asked why we were unexpectedly accompanied. He wanted us to go to another hotel that he was representing. After much insistence, he was convinced that we would not change our minds and got out of the car.
We continued on more calmly, in an English-style taxi, with a meter on the outside, fixed to the front fender, but which had not worked for years. Finally, we arrived at the hotel at 3 am, dead tired and feeling the effects of jet lag. We slept soundly. We were woken up by someone knocking loudly on the door of our room, close to noon. We heard the sounds of the city – horns honking, elephants bellowing, people talking and shouting. Scared, we got up, confused, and went to check what was happening outside the hotel.
It wasn’t long before we were getting used to the chaos of that big, polluted city, with animals on the streets, congested traffic, cars and rickshaws honking all the time. It’s not uncommon to see a sign on the back of the cars that says “horn please.” We would often go into temples to take a break from the madness.
We went to the Grand Bazaar to meet our friend's boyfriend. We spent a long time talking and he invited us to watch an important ceremony at the Sikh temple that same day. Not only did we watch the ceremony, but during a ritual we drank the water from the well where the person serving stood barefoot. Although it was recommended that we never drink water that was not mineral water, we did not drink any. Faith transcends and we were infected by the faith of those people, the ceremony and the ritual.
We walked around the city a lot, we saw things that we thought were bizarre, but that were just common there. Other things were funny, like the boy who insisted on cleaning Helinho's sneakers. When he thanked him and said that he didn't need to because the sneakers were clean, the boy didn't hesitate, threw mud at him and said: - "Now they're dirty. Can I clean them?"
At night we went to a revolving restaurant, highly recommended by friends. And, of course, we drank more beer than is normal for Indians. We were on vacation and happy. But, the waiter, seeing that a foreign woman was drinking, started looking at us in a way... very interested. And it turns out that the guy always gave us a little nudge whenever he could... We didn't take it too seriously and laughed a lot about the situation, which turned into a story to tell.
We stayed in Delhi for a few more days before taking the train to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. On the recommendation of our Indian friend Raja, we should buy first-class tickets. But after waiting almost two hours at the train station, watching mice running around, we were called to the ticket counter where a very helpful gentleman said that he only had second-class tickets for the next day. He added: “What’s a two-hour trip in second class? The trip is quick and the train isn’t that crowded.” There you have it. He convinced us, but...
The unforgettable experience in the second class of an Indian train…
The next day, at six in the morning, we arrived at the train station. It was as dark inside as it was outside. There were people sleeping on the floor of the lobby and on the platforms, and there was no indication of where our train would leave from. We looked here and there and, suddenly, we stumbled over someone sleeping. There Vera fell to the ground. The scene was, Vera was on top of someone lying on the floor of the station, trying to get up with her backpack on her back. She screamed for Helinho to help, but with the noise of the station and the crowd, she couldn't hear or even see the fall. It was only when he noticed me missing and looked back that he saw the bizarre scene. The situation was very funny, but the fall was bad, which resulted in a bruised knee and a scar that will forever remind us of that day.
After that, we found other tourists who were lost at the station and joined them. We all tried to find out which platform we would board for Agra. It was a mess. There was so much rushing around and the train only arrived at 9 am. The other tourists went to first class. And we went to our “second class”.
Boarding was another mess. A real jostling and shoving. We managed to get into our carriage, but we had to go through a small corridor where the bathrooms were. The smell was horrible. But we soon managed to get to our seats. An English couple sat in front of us. When we realized, where there should have been four people, there were already six people. The train was packed. There were people sitting on the arms of the seats, lying down on a sort of second floor, above the seats. It was chaos!
While the train was already moving, one of the passengers, who was standing, gave a card to the English girl. When she looked at the card, she became furious. At first, we didn't understand anything. Later, we saw that it was a card with the name and phone number of someone who worked with “sexual orientation”. Because she looked like an Indian, she was mistaken for an “escort girl”. The English girl was very angry. At first, her husband didn't understand what had happened, but when he found out, the Englishman was very angry too.
Finally, a trip that was supposed to take two hours, according to the friendly gentleman at the ticket counter, took seven long hours in that uncomfortable situation. People were smoking, playing cards, eating sandwiches with the strong smell of Garam Masala and other Indian spices... It was a struggle to get to Agra.
When we got off the train, we saw a rickshaw. That was our downfall. The man turned into a “rickshaw.” He wouldn’t let go. All we had to do was step outside the hotel and the “rickshaw” would be there. We wanted to walk, but when we looked, he was right behind us. No matter how hard we tried to lose him, it was impossible. On one of those occasions, he asked, almost begging, to pay the fare in advance because he needed to take the money to his “owner.” He literally said, “my owner.” That hit us hard. We felt really sorry for him. And that’s how he took us to the long-awaited Taj Mahal.
The first thing that caught our attention was a long reflecting pool in the center of the courtyard. Then came the four side towers that protect the building. And in the center is the large white marble palace. The Taj Mahal is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful buildings in the world.
Its construction began at the end of a beautiful love story. The Persian prince Shah Jahan, after losing his wife Arjumand Begum, who died giving birth to their 14th child, was in despair and almost died of sadness and grief. To house the body of his beloved, he decided to build a palace. Shah Jahan invited the greatest artists and architects from the Persian and Mughal empires and ordered the purchase of the finest marble. He ordered rubies and jade to decorate the most beautiful tomb anyone could ever see. The Taj Mahal took 22 years to build.
Then, Shah Jahan decided to build a new palace, but made of black marble, where he himself would be buried. His sons, who did not let the prince commit such madness again, imprisoned him in a fortress. And when the prince died, he was also buried in the Taj Mahal. Indeed, “this was a beautiful love story”, as Jorge Benjor sang...
But wait a minute. Our story didn't end there. We still went to Jaipur... And that's also a good story...
Have you ever been stuck in a traffic jam? With people?
From Agra we went to Jaipur by bus. We bought a ticket with the help of our now “rickety” friend. On the day of our departure, we went to the place where the bus station was supposed to be. But what we found were lots of cows on the street, lots of people, bars, food stalls, dogs and no bus station. We decided to ask where our bus was boarding. A man took the ticket to see. At that moment, more people gathered. Everyone wanted to help. There were more than twenty people. And our ticket started to be passed around. Do you know that game where a person stands in the middle of a circle trying to catch the ball? Well, we were those two people trying to catch our tickets that were being passed around. It was like something out of a slapstick movie. Until, finally, we got our tickets back without anyone being able to tell us where the bus stopped. We only found out when we saw a very old minibus stop in front of a bar. That was it. We got on and continued on our way.
Needless to say, it was a bit of a pain to travel on that bus on Indian roads. It was enough to give any healthy citizen a heart attack. Besides us, there were two other foreign tourists. On the seat behind them was an Indian guy who decided to pee right there. Thank goodness we warned them in time for them to pick up their backpacks from the floor.
And then we arrived at a bus stop. It wasn't exactly a bus stop like the ones we know. The bathroom was a wall, with no door, no roof, nothing. Just a wall. The men used the front part and the women had to go to the other side so they wouldn't be seen peeing on the floor. There was no way to eat anything and the water was not at all reliable. But we survived.
In Jaipur, also known as “the pink city”, we saw the beauty of the Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Winds) and the City Palace, the Jantar Mantar with its enormous sundial and the Jal Mahal, a palace built in the middle of the Man Sager Lake. We also visited the Amber Fort and the Jaigarth Fort.
The city was very busy and the strangest feeling was being stuck in a traffic jam. Imagine a mass of people walking. Suddenly, everyone starts to stop and there is no way to get out of that crowd. Now, imagine yourself standing still and someone smelling your neck. That's what happened. An Indian guy decided to smell Vera's neck. Thank goodness we are a good-humored couple. When we realized the situation, we started laughing...
In Jaipur, we also watched a Bollywood filming. The most impressive thing was that the participants were dancing on top of a very high wall, without any protection. In fact, cinemas in India are oversized, because of their large audiences, who watch their countless productions. We had the idea of going to see a film, but the biggest problem was buying tickets. People were literally glued to each other. Most, if not all, were men, and for us, it was enough to be stuck in the human traffic jam with an Indian guy sniffing Vera's neck. So we gave up.
After all these adventures, we returned to New Delhi by train, this time in first class. New Delhi is a city of contrasts, impoverished and sumptuous at the same time. Despite the poverty, the caste system, the pollution, the disorganization, the enormous and inefficient bureaucracy, India enchanted us with its indescribable beauty, its people, its fantastic culture and cuisine, which only those who have been there can understand. A disorganization that enchants. A people who are resigned, but happy...
Nepal is cool...
From India we went to Nepal, which was a pleasant surprise. We arrived in Kathmandu early in the afternoon. We landed at Tribhuvan, its small but charming airport. The city is located in the mountains and planes are only allowed to land and take off if visibility is good. Therefore, we had to stay an extra day in New Delhi, without the plane being able to take off. Only the next day, after spending a long time inside the aircraft, was we given permission to leave. Luckily, visibility was maintained. Otherwise, the flight would have returned to New Delhi.
At Kathmandu airport, they recommended a well-located and reasonably priced hotel. We were also given a welcome leaflet with instructions for tourists not to give “alms” to beggars. The argument was that this would not solve the country’s social problems.
The temperature was mild, but at night it was very cold. Kathmandu is not a very big city, but we can say that it is two distinct cities – one, with its thousands of visitors and temples built with pink bricks. The other, dirty, polluted, with its bazaars, lots of people and tormenting monkeys. However, Dubar Square, in the old city center, Freak Street, better known as the hippie street, and Hanuman Dhoka, a large palace, are places that are a must-see. We took advantage of our time to walk around a lot, including some excursions into the outskirts of the city.
We went to Patan, which was badly damaged in the 2015 earthquake, Bouldhanath, where the beautiful Bouldha Stupa (the tower) dominates the landscape, the Shiva Temple and the Pashupatinath Temple, where we were struck by the strong smell coming from the cremations.
The feeling of being at Pashupatinath Temple was very strange and impressive. We saw a ritual and the beginning of a cremation. It was a huge pain for the families, which made us think a lot about life and death. We saw many sadhus and we were there trying to understand all that strange culture for us.
We visited what we could, but unfortunately we did not go to the base camp of the climbers who climb Everest. At that time we were discouraged because there was a danger of attacks by the Maoist rebels, who were trying to take over the country.
Traveling is about sharpening all of your senses and experiencing the place in every way. For example, talking to Konal, a boy who gave us a mandala every day. And every day, he said that the mandala was even more beautiful and bright because he was taking care of it. Traveling is about being part of everything. One day, we ran after a bunch of people playing instruments, singing, and dancing. It was like a party! Only later did we realize that it wasn’t a party, but a funeral. Traveling is about eating the unexpected. Like the day the waiter came by with a beautiful piece of meat on a hot plate and the smell was irresistible. We thought, “Could it be picanha?” But it wasn’t. Only after we ate it did we find out that it was yak meat. Which was also good.
In a nomadic life, every day is a surprise. Like when we took off from the charming Tribhuvan airport. There, the plane has to make several turns to avoid the high mountains. It was then that, from up high, we were able to see the beauty and grandeur of Mount Everest up close, almost at our feet.
Is there a companion there?
From Kathmandu we went to Bangkok. We arrived on a very hot day. And it remained that way the whole time we were there. Combined with the heat, the very spicy food warmed not only the outside but also the inside. Imagine eating noodles, very hot in every sense, in that heat. Well, we had plenty of them. They were cheap and available everywhere. But, it was on one of those days that we had an incident, choking on the pepper, coughing and being out of breath until I turned red like a bell pepper... Fortunately, after a while everything passed.
We walked around the lively city a lot. We visited the Grand Palace and temples such as Wat Phra Kaew, Wat Pho, Wat Arun, and other temples that are not so famous but very interesting. The “reclining Buddha” is impressively beautiful. We strolled along the Chao Phraya River, admired the floating markets of Chatuchak and Tailin Chan, and rode a tuk-tuk.
We also went to Pattaya, a beach town not far from Bangkok. In Pattaya, as in Bangkok, sex tourism is very popular. In the hotel lobbies in Bangkok, the situation was very visible. And it was no different in Pattaya.
Pattaya, which used to be a quiet fishing village, has become a city with high-rise buildings, resorts, bars and nightclubs, and is very popular with foreigners. The beaches and Wat Phra Yai temple, with its famous 18-metre-high golden Buddha, are not to be missed.
One of those days, late in the afternoon, we sat at a bar on the sidewalk to have a beer. An elderly, well-dressed lady came up to us to offer us one of her “escorts.” The bar, called Pink Lady, had call girls for its customers. We thanked her and continued drinking our beer and watching what was going on around us. At a table across from ours, there were four “girls” and two American men. From what we could see, the tips in dollars were quite hefty.
Despite the high level of sex tourism, what we saw in Thailand was a great cultural wealth and very welcoming people. Unfortunately, we didn't get to see Phi Phi Islands and Phuket, because our trip would still continue to Hong Kong and Macau. But Thailand is certainly a place to return to and also travel along the Mekong River, from neighboring Vietnam to Cambodia, a dream yet to come true.
Eating “perfex”...
Hong Kong was still an English colony and Macau a Portuguese colony. Hong Kong contrasted the ancient Chinese tradition with the strength of capitalism. We were impressed by the Rolls Royces, Ferraris and other luxury cars that coexisted with the markets and stalls selling fish and live animals. The tiny tailor shops, which could make perfectly tailored suits in less than two hours, coexisted side by side with huge shopping malls, with international designer stores and absurdly high prices. Not to mention the luxurious skyscrapers.
The city was expensive, in general. However, if you did some research, you could buy photography equipment and watches at low prices, as long as you knew what was real and how to tell what was fake. One of the city's main attractions was Victoria Peak, from where you could see the entire city of Hong Kong. It was definitely a beautiful view! Besides that, not visiting the Giant Buddha or the markets would be a real sin. So we made sure to see them.
We also took a boat to Macau. Although many people spoke Cantonese, English was also an official language in Hong Kong. However, in Macau, even though it was a Portuguese colony, less than 2% of the population spoke Portuguese, although street signs and some shops were written in the colonial language.
We walked through the markets. It was like entering a world apart. The different types of living animals were impressive. Some were completely unknown. Although a “gremlin” is a mythological creature, the image we saw in the film of the same name could only have been inspired by one of those strange little animals. In addition, there were some strange things, indecipherable to our Western eyes.
At one of the stalls, we saw some people trying something that looked like those cleaning cloths, like “perfex”. Some were red, others yellow. We decided to ask for a taste. The flavor was good. After an explanation, which we didn’t quite understand, we concluded that it was pressed meat. So, we decided to buy it and eat it.
Halfway through that pressed leaf made me feel sick. Maybe it should have been fried or boiled. Anyway, despite that, with the help of a can of Coca Cola, we survived.
We also walked around the city, also known as the “Las Vegas of Asia”. We saw the casinos and shopping malls on the Cotai Strip, which connects the islands of Taipa and Coloane. The panoramic view of the city from the Macau Tower is also a must-see.
Back in Hong Kong, it was time to return to Amsterdam, and then home. The airport was Kai Tak, which is now closed. This airport was famous among aviation professionals for having one of the most dangerous runways for takeoff and landing. For this reason, it was only authorized for a few highly trained pilots. Since we are not experts, although Helinho really likes aviation, we copied and pasted the description of the approach and takeoff to give you an idea of the complexity of this runway: “the aircraft made the approach in a straight line using IGS (Instrument Guidance System, a modified form of ILS) to a point called Checkboard Hill, marked by a hill with a slab painted in a red and white checkerboard pattern. From this point, the aircraft made a 47-degree turn, without using the autopilot and in strictly visual conditions, to line up with runway 13” ( https://www.wikiwand.com/pt/Aeroporto_Internacional_Kai_Tak ), the only runway at this airport. For takeoff, “the aircraft had to make a sharp 65-degree left turn immediately after takeoff to avoid the hills (a reverse of what traffic on runway 13 would do).”
Upon landing, it was possible to see inside the apartments. And to take off, the plane climbed, making a large curve before taking a straight line. This was one of the greatest challenges in aviation. The aircraft flew low over the Western Kowloon neighborhood, bringing strong emotions to residents and passengers. However, since all the pilots who flew that route were qualified, we were confident that everything would go as planned. And today, we feel grateful to have visited an airport that has always been an inspiration and aspiration for some of the most daring aviation professionals.