JAIPUR: HELL!

DEFINITIONS OF HELL:
OPTION 1:
Hell is a place in the after life, where you are punished for your sins in life and burn for all eternity.

OPTION 2:
A 14 hour bus journey from Amritsar to Jaipur in which you get Delhi belly and then on arrival spend the next 5 days being ill in your room.

At this moment in time I'm deciding on option two!
It all started when we boarded the bus from Amritsar. We had purchased tickets for an over night sleeper to Jaipur. Me and Lauren had a double top bunk. I climbed up and my first impression was, I think we have a 99% of catching bed bugs from this place! Yes it was a complete flea pit! Oh well! It being a 14 hour journey we had also purchased some snacks for the trip. It was purchased from a street store. Now I have been to India twice before and have never been ill from the food. In South America I was never ill. I fell sick in Cambodia with water poisoning but I soon recovered. I have always purchased food from the street, it's sometimes some of the best and very cheap. I was even bragging to Lauren at one point, that I had a very strong stomach. I spoke too soon, and cursed ourselves. The number 13 bad luck was back! And boy was it back!
About 5 hours into the journey I started to experience stomach pains. They started to get worse. A massive wave of nausea came over me and all I could smell was the left over snacks.
"Lauren, can you throw the food out the window it's making me sick."
Lauren looked worried and did as I asked, but it was too late; the sickness had taken hold. And not long after, I'm screaming
"Lauren get the window open, I'm going to be sick."
The window is jammed. My head is spinning.
"I'm going to be sick, I'm going to be sick! Hurry please."
Lauren manages to free the window in time and I throw my head out of the still moving bus and projectile vomit. I'm sick until there is nothing left in me. Luckily we are at the rear of the bus so no one can see the white girl puking her guts out, all over the back of the bus ( There is a God)! I lie back and try and sleep. The pains in my stomach get worse and my stomach becomes very swollen. There is no toilet on the bus, and I have just thrown up all my pain killers. There is nothing to do but grin and bare it. The pain becomes so immense, I want to cry. It feels like someone is stabbing me. Lauren looks on helpless as I groan. It is the longest bus journey of my life and I pray for it to be over. We eventually arrive in Jaipur and I'm a broken women. As I'm sick we check into a good hotel. I then spend most of my time in the bathroom or just lay like a zombie. It's horrible. At least Lauren is OK, and can look after me I think. WRONG! That night I'm awoken by the sound of Lauren vomiting in the bathroom. She is soon as bad as me. The next day I try and convince myself I'm getting better. I try to read, I use the Wi-Fi and watch some TV, but I soon lose the battle. In the end me and Lauren just lie like zombies not talking and only moving to go to the bathroom. The next day I'm so weak; I've gone through a whole packet of immodium; I haven't eaten in 3 days; and even though the room is littered with dead water bottles, our lips are cracked with dehydration. We are not getting any better, in fact we are getting worse. This is not your normal travellers bug, that you get, I thought to myself, this is something very bad. It's was at this point I made a decision to do something that I never do.
"Lauren we need a doctor" I said " I'm going to get us one!" Lauren hardly responded but did seem to agree sort of, as she kind of moved her head. I managed to get to reception with the last of my energy. As I arrive at the desk my mouth is so dry I can hardly talk, everything is spinning. I nearly faint, and the guys at the desk grab me and prop me up.
"I need a doctor" I mumble.
Depuk the skinny, funny guy who works on reception, suddenly tries to pick me up "Gone with the wind" style and carry me up the stairs! As he's smaller and skinner than me, I tell him I don't think it's going to work and not to bother, much to his disappointment. I just get him to support me all the way to my bed. They call a doctor, to come out and see us, as we are unable to really move.
An hour or so later, there is a knock at our door. I force myself out of bed. I'm completely out of it. I answer the door to a short squat man with sliver hair and beard, who was wearing the best blazer ever, followed by his assistant holding his bag.
"Hello. I'm the doctor" he says calm and collective.
I lay back on the bed. He asks me questions but I'm all over the place and answering the simplest thing seems hard. He examines me and Lauren.
"Carly, Lauren" he's says in his deep booming voice, "You are very ill and dehydrated. You have a serious stomach infection and because of this your normal medicine will not work. We have to inject you with antibiotics, straight into your bloodstream."
I don't care, he can inject me a hundred times, I think, if it makes me feel better. I hold out my arm.
"No not the arm" he says "Your backside."
What! My ass! Oh God! Actually I really don't give a Dam right now. I roll over and pull down my trousers. I receive injections on both sides, Which even outs the numbness. He leaves us with some medication and tells us that his assistant will be around tomorrow morning to take blood and stool samples and that we must go to the clinic the next afternoon. The rest of the day we just sleep and hope to feel better. The next day, there is a slight improvement but we still feel awful, can't be far from a toilet, and are still not eating. We go to the doctors that afternoon and receive more medication, through a needle. The next day Lauren is feeling better and eats. I try but struggle. We have to go back to the clinic again for a check up. I'm feeling crap again and fear I'm heading downwards. After more injections, the doctor decides to put me on a drip, as I'm so dehydrated and weak from lack of food. I lie there for two hours while, my body is fed vital fluids.

We are back at the hotel and sat on the roof top terrace ordering food as the doctor has told us to eat. I feel terrible. The smell of food is making me sick. How can it be that after 2 hours on a drip I'm still totally dehydrated. I get frustrated. After 5 days I've barely eaten a thing, I'm still going the bathroom every two seconds; my stomach is still swollen and I have constant nausea; and even though I'm glad Lauren is better, it's hard seeing some one who got ill after you, get better before you. I lose it and start to cry. India you have broken me, I think. I feel so bad I have to go back to my room and the kitchen delivery my food to me there. I lay in bed and just look at it. Food has become the enemy. I take a couple of mouthfuls, but I feel I'm just going to be sick again. Lauren takes it away and I lie down depressed and defeated. If some one would of come along then, and said they would shoot me to put me out of my misery, I would of gladly excepted.

I awake the next morning and Lauren is full of energy and wants to go sightseeing, and who can blame her. Before she goes she orders breakfast for me and gets it sent to the room. I sit looking at the food, thinking "here we go again", but then I realise I have no nausea and my stomach isn't swollen. I'm a bit taken a back, but then I suddenly realised I hadn't really eaten in 6 days and started gobbling down everything on the plate like a ravenous animal. I sit and wait, but nothing happens. I don't need to go to the toilet and I don't need to throw up. OMG! The biggest smile comes across my face. By the time Lauren gets back I'm like an excited kid.
"Lauren I feel fine, in fact I feel amazing."
It's like some one has just flicked a switch that just makes you better. I've never know anything like it: to feel like this now, when the night before I was at my lowest. I want to go out, as the hotel feels like a prison. Apart from going back and to, to the medical clinic, I haven't left it. Lauren suggests we go to the cinema, to see a Bollywood film, as she was told it was great fun and it won't be too tiring. Now those of you who know me, might remember my previous experience with Bollywood. It kind of involved me having a screaming row with the Indian costume girl in front of the England cricket team, in Lincoln Inns Fields, while telling her to shove her job and throwing all my kit off the costume truck. So as you can see my Bollywood experience was kind of interesting. Well maybe watching Bollywood, would be better than working on it. Another reason for going to see Bollywood in Jaipur was, that it had probably the best cinema in India. After purchasing our tickets from an outside booth, we pushed aside the doors and were greeted with the most amazing sight. It was the most over the top, tacky, kitsch, retro interior I had ever seen and I totally loved it. It was like some big pink fairy cake with icing. After staring a lot, we were ushered into the screen. Now us in west, our obsessed with complete silence when we go to the cinema. Not in India. As soon as the opening credits start, the crowd start cheering and screaming. They laugh loudly; shout at the screen and wolf whistle at the beautiful leading lady. It's more like theatre. It's great and if I could actually understand what is going on (Yes the whole film is in Hindi) I would join in more. The film we go and see, Danbangg 2, from what I gauge is about a cop who wears very tight retro slacks and who likes wearing his aviator sun glasses on the back of his shirt. The plot is really that he just goes round beating up some bad guys, then does some singing and dancing, while gyrating his hips a lot, then he beats up some more bad guys, sings and dances and gyrates his hips some more! All very taxing stuff!

The next day we go to see the doctor for the final time. He gives us our final injections (My arse is a pin cushion by now)! He then proceeds to give us our test results.
"Girls, you were very ill. The tests show you had the bad strain of E. coli." He says it so calmly and slowly I don't really register what he says at first.
"E.coli! E bloody coli!" I think to myself. Isn't that, that thing that killed lots of people in Britain last year!? Yes it bloody is! I look at the test results; its there in black and white. Jesus Christ!!!! This is all going on in my head, but in general I just sit quietly listening to the doctor. He continues.
"As you can see, you are much better and will make a full recovery. You must", he pauses for a long time. Then continues "Take all the tablets we give you, so we kill the parasite and it doesn't come back." His assistant then gives us, what looks like a whole chemists worth of medicine, which we have strict instructions which and when we take.
We say goodbye to the doctor. I'm going to miss him. Not only does he have a fine array of 80's style blazers; wears his shirt quite unfastened; and has a cool gold signet ring which he wears on his pinkey, but he is kind and calming. I like the fact that he speaks slow and pauses mid sentence most of the time, for no reason at all. He also comes out with some great one liners. I like him a lot, but I like him most of all for making us better.

Our last day in Jaipur and I finally get to see some of the city. That night we catch the night train. Maybe some people might think we left too soon after getting better, but after a quick recovery and a week in Jaipur, we were gagging to get on the road again. India is a big country with many things to see, and this experience had not broken me. You might of abused me and made me suffer India, but I still love you, but isn't it always the ones you love the most, that always hurt you the most too? I should know that by now shouldn't I? Next stop Udaipur.

AMRITSAR: WE LOVE SIKHS

There was light at the end of tunnel. It's name was Amritsar! Our luck started to change on the train towards there. Even though we had paid a lot for the train tickets, in the end, it was 1st class which meant it came with perks: free food and drink! We got served 4 meals, endless water, tea and fruit juice. The train itself was just as good as any British train, with big comfy chairs and clean toilets with toilet paper! (A miracle)!
"I like traveling on trains in India" said a happy Lauren.
"Don't get use to it Lauren. It's not always like this believe me."
At the station I haggled for a auto rickshaw, in which two guys got in the front.
"No! Only one man in the rickshaw with us, thank you" I shouted. So the driver had to boot out his mate, which the rest of the rickshaw drivers found very funny, as they were all laughing. It soon became apparent why they were laughing as our driver spoke no English and didn't have a clue where our guess house was. That's probably why he wanted to bring his mate a long.
"Sorry Madam, no English. Punjabi?"
What the hell!
"No Punjabi" I said, thinking that one wasn't in my GCSE's!
After many stops to ask people where are guesthouse was, and the driver turning out to be the mad max of the auto rickshaw world with his death defying driving, we made it to our guest house. It was clean, sort of warm, had cable TV and most importantly of all, had hot water!! Be it out of the taps, so you had to jug and bucket wash, but hot water all the same. For the first time in over 3 days (I know dirty minger) I had a wash. Heaven!

OK, so I've always wanted to go to Amritsar. It's not a place everyone ventures to, as most people don't tend to go much further north than Rajasthan, but this time I was determined. Lauren was just as infused as I as she says that Sikhism is actually the coolest religion on earth, and Amritsar is the Sikhs holiest place.

So I'm go to give you a little bit of a lesson now on the caste system and Sikhism so you can understand a little about India, Amritsar and the way things work. Yes! And there you were thinking that this blog was just about stupidity; silliness and sarcasm (Well it is most of the time), but every now and again I do like to try and inform and educate the reader.
So India works on a thing called the caste system, which is interwoven with the Hindu faith. Each member of the Hindu community belongs to one of more than 2000 castes or subcastes. The caste system puts people into groups and different social status. The people belonging to the highest caste are know as the Brahmins, followed by the Kshatriyas (farmers), then the Vaishyas (Merchants and traders). The lowest are the Shudras (servants and labourers).
The social position of each individual is fixed not by personal qualifications, material acquisitions or friendships. Consequently the caste system divides people into groups, and each caste considers themselves a separate community. They can only eat, drink, socialise and marry within there own caste. It is virtually impossible for some one who is born poor to improve there social standing or even there life as Hindus believe in living a righteous life and fulfilling your moral duty raises your chances of being born into a higher caste and thus better circumstances. The caste was abolished some time ago but it still is instated and shows little signs of changing. I personally think its horrible. It's a system that keeps the elite in power and keeps the poor in their place and I believe it has helped India's ever growing poverty and elitism.

OK, Sikhism. About 2% of Indias population are Sikhs. Sikhs have a unique appearance. Traditionally the men do not cut their hair or shave their beard or moustache. They gather their hair in unique styled turban. Sikhism is a comparatively new religion in India as it was founded in the 15th century by Guru Nanak. Like Hindus and Buddhists, Sikhs believe in karma and rebirth, but this is what I really like about Sikhism: A belief in equality of all beings lies at the heart of Sikhism. It does not matter what caste, creed, colour, race, sex or religion you are they will treat you the same. It all sounds to good to be true, I thought. This is why I wanted to go to Amritsar. As we say in England, "I wanted to see if it did what is says on the tin!"

Me and Lauren were eager to get to the temple the next morning, but on the way we stopped to buy a pashmina for Lauren as we needed to cover our heads in the temple. We were served by an elderly Sikh gentleman called Mr Singh ( they are all called Singh which must get very confusing)! We asked about the temple and whether it was welcoming for foreigners.
"Why of course. Our home is your home. Sikhs are happy for anyone to come and see our religion" replied Mr Singh. So off we went. It's hard not to find the temple, it's at the epicentre of everything in Amritsar. You see the crowds flocking there, drawn by the beautiful melodies that you can hear coming from inside the temple, but first we had to do the procedures. First you hand in your shoes: didn't have to pay. Then you cover your head. If you don't have a covering they give you a free scarf. This is followed by washing your feet in water: didn't have to pay! And finally you enter the temple and guess what? You don't have to pay, but I would have paid to see this, because once we walked through those arches, we were presented with one of the most beautiful sites I have ever seen in India. The temple and its surroundings were beautiful, but there was something else. Now I wouldn't say I'm a spiritual person, in fact I'm a bit of a sceptic of that hippy, soul searching, I've come to find myself stuff, but there was something so calming and magical about that place, I could of stayed for ever. This is, I thought, the reason why I come to India and why I love India. Even better, we seemed to be the only westerns out of the hundreds of faces I could see milling around the temple. This should of been quite intimidating but instead we felt quite privileged and everyone was so welcoming and friendly. So much so we went back that evening and this time we went in to the temple itself. As we queue for the entrance we noticed everyone was praying or kissing the step at the entrance.
"What should we do? " Lauren turns to me.
"What do you mean what should we do?" I reply
"Do we do something at the step,like everyone else?"
"No! It's not our religion. We don't have to do anything."
"But Carly maybe we should, out of respect."
"Like what?"
"I'm going to touch the step" says Lauren.
"We'll I'm not."
"I'm am."
We are moving closer the entrance.
"I'm touching the step."
"I'm not its stupid Lauren."
"I am."
"I'm not."
I get to the entrance. I touch the bloody step!
Inside was unexpected. It was these 3 guys singing away whilst banging on the drums, (It was their music, that you could hear all around the temple) and then all these people sat there swaying along and chilling. This is another reason why I love Sikhs, not only do they treat everyone nice, but they have the best sound system and do the best chill out sessions. It was like a chill out bar in Ibiza only done Indian, religious style, with people not wasted and wearing a lot more clothes. If church was like this. I would definitely go.

The Indians and the Pakistanis hate each other. It's a bit like the English and the French; and the English and the Germans; well actually it's a bit like the English and most of Europe. Anyway Amritsar is right next to the Pakistan border and I'd heard about the border closing ceremony that goes on there, and what an event it was. We decided we had to see it. We procured a taxi, that was cheap because the driver already had a lot of people in his van. This turned out to be a quite well rounded Indian family: Dad, Mum, Grannie, 3 daughters and the prized son. The patriarchal father saw us and announced to the rest of the family:
"Look we are going with the foreigners! We are very lucky." Which me and Lauren found highly amusing.
We looked at the small white van.
"We are never going to fit us all in there!" Said Lauren
"Lauren this is India, they can make anything fit if they have to."
And fit we do. We are crammed in the back with the women. Kids sat on laps. Me and Lauren spend the journey squashed again the window, while I have some fat kid who I think is slightly cross eyed stare at me most of the way. We get there and we can hear from the cheers the ceremony has started. We were following the Indian family like one big happy unit, as dad likes to be the ringleader, but they are so bloody slow, we think sod this and me and Lauren run. We are ushered through by soldiers straight to the front of the crowds and what crowds they are. It's like a football match. The atmosphere is electric. The soldiers dressed in there finest uniform march along with such bravado and pomp it's like theatre. The crowds cheer with national pride. I look the other way. There is Pakistan. I'm just metres away from the border. I can see the Pakistan crowds cheering also, but they can't compete with the might of the Indians. Both sides start taking down the flags and then the soldiers start doing karate kid style high kicks in front of each other! It's a bit like kids showing off in front of one another and saying
"Look I'm so much better than you!"
I've never seen anything like it.

The ceremony finishes and the gates shut and the crowds rush forward and chant at each other through the iron fence. Everyone wants to take their pictures or shake hands with the soldiers. They are like super stars, of course me and Lauren do as well. It's over. If it was a football match India won by thrashing Pakistan. I'm just within inches of the border. I can almost touch Pakistan. I wonder if this is the closest I will get to this country, in my life. A fascinating country I'm sure, but a troubled one all the same.

Before we can drive back, we have to wait forever for the Indian family. They slowly shuffle a long. Dad decides then that the whole family should take chai (tea) before we depart. The next thing we know we our shoved a steaming cup of chai. Me and Lauren look at it. The father has decided to buy us some. This happens a lot in India, its a proud thing to do, even slightly showing off thing, to show that be can buy the foreigners a drink. I hate, tea especially chai, but I drink it all the same. Lauren is just looking at hers.
"What is it? I don't want it!" She says.
The whole family are looking on expectantly.
"Just drink it Lauren. Just bloody drink it."
She does reluctantly. After we finish we hold our plastic cups in our hands. The fat daughter who rules the roost even over her father (I feel sorry for the husband she gets in an arranged marriage: it's going to be one long marriage), shoves Lauren and indicates for her to throw it out the window. Lauren looks unsure. Bare in mind there is rubbish all around as far as the eye can see I say,
"Do it! It's India" and we do. Fat daughter looks satisfied. We are crushed again on the journey back but enjoy every minute. The family are highly amusing even though I can't understand a word they say. We say good bye to our Indian family and the next day good bye to Amritsar, a place I loved and a place where things had been good, but things were going to take a turn for the worse. The bad luck was going to return with a real vengeance. We just didn't know it yet. Next stop Jaipur.

DELHI: UNLUCKY FOR SOME!

I'm actually quite a superstitious person, even though I should know better. I don't like walking under ladders; I still say " Hello Mr Magpie" when I see the evil bird, to stop its curse; I would never bring peacock feathers into a house and I hate, simply hate, the number 13!!!!
This being 2013, there is no way of getting away from the number, because of this I have convinced myself that this year will not be a good year. The fact that I am going traveling this year as well, has left me with the under lying sense of fear that this trip, I'm going to be very unlucky, and the the start of our travels haven't gone quite to plan. We have had a run of bad luck, my prediction seems to be coming true! Now you might think I'm sounding dramatic, but ladies and gentlemen of the jury I will hereby put to you my case. I now present to you the evidence!

EVIDENCE 1: Pissing Dogs!

The bad luck started before I even left for the airport. I'd been staying with my friend Laura May and was waiting for her to walk with me to catch the train to the airport. I closed up my back pack and turned away for a minute. When I turned back I was greeted with a site!
"Laura! Your dog has just pissed all over my back pack God Dam it!" I screamed. Laura's young dog Ping Pong had decided to mark his territory all over my bag. After a sponge and some detox I managed to clean it up. Though thinking about it I shouldn't of bothered, because after 2 months in India it's going to be so dirty and smell a hundred times worse! Ping Pong will be having his balls chopped off next week. That will teach not piss on people's bags!

EVIDENCE 2: The Nacho

We were sat at Heathrow airport getting something to eat before we got on the plane, as I don't do plane food (it grosses me out)! I'd ordered Nachos and was happily munching away until I swallowed the wrong way and then suddenly I felt a nacho impaled in the back of my throat. The pain was actually immense. I couldn't unwedge it and then I had sudden visions of me choking to death. Oh God! Choking to death on a nacho at Heathrow airport is not the way I want to go. Lauren wasn't really helping as she was sort of doing a concerned face but trying not to laugh at the same time, as I was coughing and gagging! Luckily I managed to dislodge it after a while with orange juice and gagging (nice I know)! I now have a phobia of Nachos and may never be able to go to Mexico again.

EVIDENCE 3: Liars

We arrived in Delhi after an 8 hour flight. I had booked us 3 nights accommodation at a guest house in the area of Paharganj. It's let's just say not the most scenic area but has lots of, let's say.......character! OK it's just bloody cheap and right near the train station! Having stayed in that area before I should of known better. You see I had a map with street names and the guest house on it, but its of no God Dam use at all, as nothing has any signs or street names. Paharganj is actually one big mess. If I could try and describe it in words it would be like this: You know that game Jenga? It's like that where you started building a block but after to much pressure it starts falling down, so you just start building another one next to it, or even on top. That's basically Pahraganji; a place falling in on itself!
Our taxi driver (Like nearly all taxi drivers in India!) hadn't got a clue where our guest house was. So me and Lauren decided to get out and walk. It must be nearby I thought. Now I haven't been in Asia or India for over 4 years now, Oh and how quickly we forget the rules of the game. I should of known that no one in places like this tell the truth. All they want is a quick buck out of you. In Britain when you ask for directions, you get a simple truthful answer. Not in India; you are met with a barrage of lies:
"No madam, the guest house is down there"!
"No Ladies, I tell you I know guest house follow me."
"Which guest house, there are three by this name."
"This guess house is not here anymore."
I turn around. Lauren looks like a rabbit in the head lights. It's her first time in Asia (talk about throwing her in at the deep end)!
"I don't trust anyone Carly" she says a little scared.
"Good Lauren, your learning fast. Rule number one of travelling: Trust no one, but sometimes you just have to go with it."
I decide to follow a guy who says he knows where the place is. It becomes quite apparent after a bit that he doesn't and is trying to take us some where else. I'm getting annoyed and Lauren just looks scared to death. In the midday sun, with jet lag and our back packs on, we are easy pickings. After a long time searching, I call it quits and book us into a guest house that is recommended by my guide book. We never found our original guest house and lost our deposit which was a whole £3 people. Do you know what you can do in India with that type of money?

EVIDENCE 4: The Freezer

You shouldn't really trust guide books either; there kind of hit or miss, but at this stage I don't really care. We just need a bed before we drop. Having stayed in Pahraganji twice before I kind of know what sort of room to expect for our price range. They are usually windowless cells with hard beds and hot water is temperamental. After searching round Pahraganji a lot in the past, I still have not found a good room, at a good price. I don't think it was quite what Lauren was expecting. She seems a bit overwhelmed by it all. We ask if there is hot water. They say yes. I tell Lauren it's not a bad room. It's kind of clean and I've seen a lot worse. We take it. Being in the north of India, Delhi is not the warmest at the moment, especially at night, because its winter here. That said its probably hotter than most English summer days. After a little nap, we try for a shower but guess what? The water is ice cold. I decide we should try it in the evening. Guess what? It was cold in the evening too! It is also becoming apparent that our room is like a freezer too, even with our sleeping bag liners and warm clothes on. We shiver most of the night (Before you ask, heating is non existent in India)! The next day there is still no hot water and me and Lauren are too cold to bare it. When we go outside we realise its a lot hotter than our room. Our room is some freaky freezer! We end up sleeping in our clothes. Lauren gets a cold. I get a cold. I look like some wild woman with unkept hair and dirty clothes. We look terrible! Oh and just so you know; we didn't wash for 3 days because of the God Dam freezer!

EVIDENCE 5: Shit Happens

India is not the cleanest country in the world. In fact it's pretty Dam hard to keep clean around here. Exhaust fumes, litter and there's this big problem that, well, that its not just the dogs, but people who have to go to the toilet in the street. It's dark and we are walking back from dinner. At this time the shop keepers like to their part to keep India clean by throwing water into the street at the end of a long day. It doesn't really do any cleansing, but kind of just makes a big slurry. I skip and jump over the puddles, knowing to avoid them. Lauren does her best. We get back to the room and we our reading when we look at each other:
"Can you smell something"?
After some investigation we locate the culprit. Lauren's trainers. She has stood in shit and I'm not sure if the animal variety! Lauren looks mortified. I give her a load of baby wipes( thank God for wet wipes). I would of helped but after having cleaned a chihuahua's ass last week, I feel I have done my shit rota for the year.

EVIDENCE 6: The train Ticket

As things weren't going to well, me and Lauren decide to get the hell out of Delhi.
"Let's get a train. It's easy. I've done it loads of times before" I say.
Well it use to be easy. We walk up to New Delhi station and we are soon bounced apon!
"Where are you going lady"
"You can't buy ticket here"
"Tourist office has moved, you must go Connaught place"
"I give you Tuk Tuk ride"
" I work here. You trust me."
I know it's all lies, but they don't stop following us and become quite aggressive with it. One even says to get out my guide book and look to see that he is telling the truth.
The guide says:
"Don't let any one try and stop you entering the building. Do not believe anyone who tells you the tourist office has shut or moved, and do not give anyone your ticket."
Is this guy stupid or what?
We sneak in and get to the 1st floor where the tourist office should be. We can't find the place and the station is blocked off in places. We eventually find a counter that will sell us a ticket to Amristar. It has the right date, the right location, is for 2 adults, as cheap as chips and is sold by an official. Great! The next day we arrive early to run the gauntlet. Some guy harasses us and wants to see our ticket. I say no. He becomes aggressive and we walk away. We find our platform and the train before ours rolls in. It's a bit of a free for all as people scrabble to get on the already over crowded train. It's a bit like a cattle car and bodies are pushed up to the windows or people just hang off the side.
"Is our train going to be like that, Carly?" Says a worried looking Lauren.
"Of course not" I reply confidently. The truth is I haven't got a clue. You never know what your going to get train wise in India. It's like a Kinder Surprise. Of course I don't tell Lauren that. Our train arrives and its surprising well ordered and nice. We get on and plonk ourselves in some seats. As we sit there it becomes apparent that everyone is looking for their seat numbers. I look at our ticket. There are no seat numbers. I ask a kind looking gentleman, where they are on my ticket, as most trains I have been on don't have them. A crowd forms, and soon we know the awful truth. This is the wrong train. The man behind the desk has given us the wrong time. OMG! I bet it was the cattle car train before this, we were meant to get on, I think. No wonder it was like 2p for the ticket! I'm panicking. I can't stay another night in Delhi in the freezer!
A man informs us the train leaves in 15 minutes and I might have time to buy some tickets.
"Lauren stay with the bags" I scream and I'm off through New Delhi station like a whippet. I get to the desk. There is a big queue. SHIT! There is only one thing for it. I bring out my secret weapon: The damsel in distress. Before I know it I have a group of men helping me fill in forms and I'm at the front of the queue. Unfortunately I have the slowest, most monotone woman in the world behind the desk. After typing in her computer for what seems like an age, she informs me that there is only first class left. SHIT!
"I'll take them" I say
The price flashes up on the board. SHIT! They are really expensive! (Well peanuts in England, but expensive for India).Then I think about the freezer again.
"I'll take them" and throw a lot of money at her. She then goes off and talks to her manager for a bit, and I'm thinking you have to be kidding me! In the mean time the rip off guy who tried to take my ticket off me turns up. Not good timing.
"Lady your in the wrong queue"
I let rip.
"Just get lost. Do you think I'm stupid! Your a bloody liar. Now just go away" I scream. Everyone is looking. I shove my head under the hole in the counter.
"Luv, could you hurry up! I've got a train to catch in a minute"!
She slowly walks back and passes me the ticket.
"Change? I need change!" I'm frantic now. This seems to be an after thought on her part and she slowly opens the draw and slowly counts the change. I think I'm going to hit her. I grab the change and run. We get on the train and as it pulls away from Delhi I feel a great sense of relief. Stuff you Delhi I think. As Delhi is left behind us I hope our run of back luck is left behind us too. Next stop Amristar.

THERE SHE GOES, THERE SHE GOES AGAIN

I'm off on my travels again people. Drum roll: and this time I am heading back to India. Though you have probably guessed that already from the photo above, with me holding a big book with India written on it!
Indian is definitely one of my favourite countries that I have travelled to. Though its a bit like Marmite with people: You either love it or you hate! I love it! When people say to me they have been to India and they like it, I ask, where?
"Goa".
I tell them they really haven't been to India. Goa is completely different from the rest of India. I'm not sure whether half the people would still love India if they left Goa. The real India is poor, dirty, over crowded, full on and hard, but it is the most exciting adventure as well. It has an energy you can't describe. There are times though, even when you love your Marmite a lot, you have days when you think, I'm a bit tired of Marmite today, I've had too much; Today I would like a smooth peanut butter on a whole grain bagel. Yes even with my beloved Indian, there are days it pushes me to the edge and you want some time out, but then some thing amazing will happen again and realised why you loved her and still do.
For my third venture into India, I will be taking with me, my long suffering trainee from work, Lauren, Who is a virgin to India. Her parents think she is going with sensible adult (if only they knew)! In fact Lauren is the level headed one out us, so it will probably be her looking after me and making sure I don't do anything stupid (a tough task indeed)!
So India here we come. Attack us with cows and monkeys; let us be stared at constantly; let people touch our hair; let us get Delhi belly; let us wear really bad hippy clothing; let the men on the train pretend to brush past us but really they are touching our breasts (I really hate that one)! Yes bring it on, and anything else you can throw at us! We can take it!
NB* Please remind me of this in a couple of weeks, when I'm sat in a grotty hotel room after being attacked by cows and monkeys, while I'm being sick from Delhi belly and I've also got a soar hand from slapping all the men who have been touching me up; I have had all my hair pulled out and I'm wearing a really bad tie dye combo! Also I don't even like Marmite, it's disgusting!

NEW YEAR: HOT TUBS; CHAMPAGNE; CHILDREN; AND CHIHUAHUA'S

I don't get asked to baby sit a lot. That's because I'm not very good at it. I once fell asleep before the kids I was meant to be looking after. The parents came home to find me passed out on the sofa, while the kids were running riot, when they should of been in bed hours before. Another time I decided to take my wards to the video shop to keep them entertained. For an easy life I said they could watch anything they wanted. It didn't go down too well that they chose and I let them watch "Freddy got Fingered!" Before you start it's not a Porno but was an 18 certificate and as I was told not an appropriate film for children to watch. I explained it was good for kids to learn things early in life. I myself had seen "Basic Instinct" at a very young age. Well actually this was only because I'd told my mum that it was a mystery, love story, which it sort of is? I just forgot to mention it was a mystery, love story with a nymphomaniac serial killer woman, who didn't like wearing knickers.

My family had a slight problem this New Year. My sister was flying and mum and Paul had booked to go to a hotel. There was no one to look after the most beloved member of our family: Coco the chihuahua! Well there was one person? ME!

OK so I'm a rubbish baby sitter with kids, but I was sure I'd be better with animals. I'm good with animals. To be fair I often prefer animals to people. They are loyal and don't give you any hassle. As I was going to Sherwood Forest to a log cabin for New Year with it all my friends, I thought it would be perfect for a dog, so I volunteered myself. After all how hard could it be to look after a dog?

I should of got worried when my sister started packing the dogs stuff. Coco the chihuahua is like a child to my sister and it is completely spoilt! I just want to state that I had one bag of belongings; the dog has two, complete with different outfits (Coco has her own wardrobe where her clothes are hung on hangers) and a selection of cuddly toys! I'm also bombarded with a list of how to treat the dog and what not to do! They also threaten that nothing better happen to the dog or my life won't be worth living! I'm sat in the car, ready to start my journey looking at the chihuahua dressed in a jumper sat in her own basket, placed on the passenger seat (for her own comfort!) thinking OMG, what the hell have I let myself in for?

I lied! I actually had more than one bag! I had two whole bags full of alcohol as well! Though I shouldn't of bothered as the guys have already filled the bath full of champagne (My heaven)! The log cabin is a mass of energy; greeting friends I haven't seen in a long time; people drinking; people cooking and Stan, my friend Claire's son running around with my hat (which is way to big for him) falling over his face. I sit back and relax with a drink. Everything is just perfect! Well that's until I try to move anywhere. The dog is following me around everywhere. It becomes like some weird furry stalker. I can't even go the toilet without her following me and jumping up on my lap mid pee! Throughout dinner she cried and begs to be picked up, which I have to do in the end and cradle her like a baby. OMG! I'm not looking after a dog! I'm looking after a baby! It's like baby sitting all over again.

The log cabin has a hot tub! Yeah! I'm determined to see the New Year in, in the hot tub with a glass of Champagne. You can't get much better than that! There's one problem though. It's not working properly as there has been a power cut, so it's kinda not very hot. Still we brave it for a while. There is also a second problem. The DOG! AGAIN! It keeps standing a the side of the hot tub crying in the cold wanting me to pick her up. I cut my losses leave the tub and celebrate midnight hugging everyone in a bikini with a chihuahua attached my arm of course.

I would like to say I think I have grown up from my baby sitting days and even though I got totally wasted and actually didn't go to bed all night I was still a responsible mother; feeding the dog; giving her toilet breaks and even taking her for a walk at 7am very drunk and wearing my onsie. How responsible am I?

The dog continues to follow me everywhere, which is now worse as I have a hangover and haven't slept in 24 hours. I put my foot down when she actually tries to get in the shower with me!
When we had all recovered from New Year we decided to go on a big walk to Sherwood Forest to see Robin Hoods Oak tree (which turned out not to be his oak but like one he used, which was shit)! I dress Coco in one of her many coats. As she going for a number 2, I realise I haven't brought any poo bags! I rush her before other people come a long and see I haven't cleared the mess. As we are walking, I realise that the dog has shit all over its ass. OMG! I am going to have to clear it up. You have to understand this is the worst thing anyone could do to me. I have never even changed a babies nappy as I can't stand anything like that. I think I'm going to cry. Luckily Alex had wet wipes for Lyra (thank God for mums)! Everyone takes great amusement as I grimace a lot performing the task. Im thinking at this moment, a babies nappy would be better! Oli starts taking photos as he knows this will wind me up more and he lives to wind me up. I'm almost tempted to throw a shit stained wet wipe at him. I did it though, I did it. I dealt with shit; literally!
That night I return Coco the chihuahua home in one piece.
"I hope she's been looking after you" my sister says to Coco.
Looking after her! Looking after her! You don't know what I've been through the last couple of days, I think to myself. Dogs are such hard work. I think I'll take baby sitting over dog sitting any day in future!

LADY WARRINGTONS GUIDE TO BACKPACKING

I know my parents dread it when I finish a long job these days.  They know I'm going to bugger off half away round the world with my trusted back pack.  The questions are always the same:
"Where you off to now then?"  I can almost feel them roll their eyes down the phone.
"Who you going with?"
"Your not going on your own again are you?"
As my mother puts its,
"Your going to do what you want anyway!", which is right.  She has got a lot better from the first time I rang her from Vietnam to say that all my friends had decided to go home, but I wasn't ready to go h back and was now travelling on my own and was going off into the jungle for a couple of days with a biker I had just met.  Actually reading this back I can kind of see why she had kittens, but only a little.  I still feel a bit guilty as I think she lays awake at night, sometimes wondering why she hasn't got a normal daughter, that goes on a nice Thomas Cook package holiday for 2 weeks a year, in a nice all inclusive hotel. Yes all in inclusive would be lovely and safe, she must be thinking to herself.  Its not going to happen mum! Sorry about that, and sorry for any of the grey hairs I have given you over the years mother, not like you can tell as Keith the hair dresser does a very good job at covering them.  Anyway I'm always going to be like this.  Even when I'm 70, I'm going to be some embarrassing Grannie that goes round with her back pack hanging out in hostels and jumping out of planes or some crazy shit like that.

I was a late starter with the backpacking thing.  My first adventure wasn't until I was 25.  I had been in a long term relationship for 3 years.  He had already taken a year out to do his travels before he met me.  He wanted to concentrate on his career and I loved him and didn't want to leave him.  In the end we grew apart as our lives were taking us in different directions and we split up.  Two weeks after that split, I booked an around the world ticket, and that was it really.  I came back 7 months later, and my parents thought I would have got the whole travel thing out of my system, but the truth was it had only got worse.  I was truly addicted.  You see there is a whole big world out there full of things I believe everyone should see and I want to see it all.

So I'm off on my travels again soon and I thought I would like to share what I have learnt over the years from travelling.  Some of it maybe useful, some of it may not.  Some of it you may agree with; some of it you probably won't, but all I have to say its seen me around the world in one piece.  Well sort of? So here we go, here is lady Warrington's guide to Back packing.

Guide books:
Some travellers turn up their noses at guide books, which really winds me up.  They think that you shouldn't be told what to do by a book.  Well can I just say the give away is in the title: GUIDE BOOK!  Its not the law, its not the bible, its a guide!  Not everything they say, I follow, not everything they say, I agree with, but they are extremely useful, because when I'm the other side of the world in a place I have never been before, I don't really know much. I'm not Einstein! The maps are the most useful thing.  I did central America the other year without a guide and hadn't got a bloody clue about anything and was lost a lot.  I missed my guide book, especially when I was lost for an hour in a taxi in San Jose with a non English speaking driver and no maps.  It was Arrrrrrghhhhhhh!!!

Bring a set of warm Clothes: 
 A lot of back packers jet off to exotic locations and think they had just live in shorts and sandals for months on end and don't really need anything else.  WRONG! Even in the hottest climates you will need some warm clothing. There is always the chance that the weather could take a turn for the worst, but the real reason is locals have figured out the best way to kill off tourists and back packers is to freeze them to death!  This is done with Air con.  I can't tell you the amount of times I have been on transport where I have nearly frozen to death; A train in Singapore, a bus in Panama and even long haul planes.  I have got to wise to it now and know what to expect, but I do feel sorry for those beginners who get on a bus in hot pants and vest who emerge a few hours later looking as white as snow.  I'm also a bit smug as well, but I really shouldn't say that, should I?

A sleeping bag liner: 

So when your back packing, your travelling for a long time.  This means you have to make your money go a long way, which means you end up staying in places that are as cheap as possible.  Some of these are well?  Not quite up to the standards we are use to and can be a bit dodgy looking.  I checked into a guest house in Cambodia once, and when I got to my room the sheets had been clearly used and not changed.  I complained to owner, who came in with a air fresher, sprayed it at the sheets and pulled the cover over and said done!  Speechless was not the word!  I have seen so many people on my travels who's skin has been ravaged by bed bugs.  I have had never caught them on my travels, but I have twice in the UK; A hotel in Wales when I was a kid; and my own flat in Hackney Wick (Bloody Toby next door went touring with his band around Europe and brought a present back which spread through the whole floor of the building)!!!! I feel one of the reasons I have never caught bed bugs is my beloved Silk sleeping bag liner.  I brought it in New Zeland on my first trip and it now comes everywhere with me. I feel it has made me sleep better at night in a few flea pits.  It also keeps you warm on long bus journeys. Get silk as its the best, as not only does it keep you warm, but its  cool in hot weather.  You can also soak them in anti mozzie liquid. They are a must for any traveller.

Lucky Items:
I'm actually quite a superstitious person I think.  I get attached to things and believe they bring me luck and keep me safe.  I have items that I always been with me since my first back packing trip.  They are like my safety blanket.  These are my lucky Sarong which I brought in Fiji.  It has been around the world may times since and has may tears in it, which have been sewn up a few times, but I can't bear to part with it.  A sarong as well is perfect as a beach towel, as it doesn't take up much room in your bag.  Another item is the Slag Hot Pants, which were originally a pair of jeans, but I cut them off in Vietnam with a pair of kitchen scissors as it was so hot.  They have since unravelled so much that they barely cover my arse but I love them so much.  There is also my Leather saddle bag which I brought in Morocco.  It comes everywhere with me even in England.  It has rust on the buckle and bite marks on one side from a puppy.  It looks like on this next trip it will not be coming with me as my shoulder is not great at the moment and I feel I need a small rucksack and not a side bag to help it.  I will miss it terribly. Ever traveller needs their lucky items!

Travel the way you want:
I have travelled with friends; I've travelled with boyfriends and I have travelled on my own.  I can recommend all and have got something different out of all of them.  Travelling with friends was great.  We have experienced things that we will talk about for the rest of our lives.  It wasn't easy though at times.  You have little space from one another and you really get to know every side of one another.  It is the same when you are in a relationship as well.  I was living with my boyfriend at the time we went travelling, so I thought it would be easy.  Most of the time it was and we had a great time but there were arguments.  You have to remember that you are in unfamiliar surroundings and this sometimes can be stressful.  The arguments were really never about anything. I think it was just a way of off loading.  A the same time it also makes your relationship stronger and after travelling you can probably get through anything (well that's not actually true because we split up a year later as he was an arse hole)!    Out of all the ways to travel, I have probably travelled on my own the most. I'm a person who has never minded her own company, in fact I crave it sometimes, it suits me.  It also gives you total freedom to do what you want as well. It has its draw backs as well; No one to save you a seat; and no one to listen to you moan when your sick!
What ever way you decide to travel, make sure its the way that suits you.

Always set a price:  
Before you get in a Taxi or arrange something always agree on a price before.  If you don't you set yourself up for a great fall.  They will charge you what ever they like and its hard to get out of it by then.  Also never say you have just arrived in a country.  They will smell fresh meat and take you for everything you have got!

Drunkenness and tents:
Do not get drunk (especially on red wine) when trying to put up a tent.  It only ends in disaster! Do get very drunk though, when you are staying in a hut full of Cockroaches, so that you pass out, as it will be the only way you will sleep.  Though the morning after isn't great as you have a massive hangover and the cockroaches still as well!

Learn not to go to the toilet!:
Long journeys are part of travelling.  In more developed countries, they have facilities on transport that cater to bodily functions.  Less developed do not!  I have been on many a lengthy journey where there has not been one toilet stop.  In India I was travelling with my friend Becky, who doesn't have the strongest bladder.  She made the bus driver stop three times, which pissed him off so much that he tried to drive off with out her on one of the stops.  It was only me, flinging myself over the bus drivers wheel, and shouting a lot, that stopped him.  After that I learnt it was important element of travel to be able to control your toilet stops.  I'm pretty darn good as well, apart from from an incident in South America the other year.  I don't know what happened but I was on a long journey as the only Gringa on a bus in Peru and all of a sudden I needed to go.  We were in the middle of the Andes.  The choice was to either wet myself or go and pee in the middle of the plains of the Andes with no where to hide.  I chose the Andes.  I saw a ditch and made for it, but being a tall person, even when crouching, the ditch was not deep enough and I was barely hidden.  I was in the middle of a pee when I decided to turn around and saw a whole coach of Peruvian Indians all looking at the white girls ass.  Mortified doesn't even come close!  Learn to hold it people!

Enjoy yourself:
We are all usually on a budget when we back pack.  We don't stay in 5 star resorts (Well you can treat yourself now and again!) and dine in swanky restaurants.  That is not to say just because your on budget doesn't mean you can't do anything.  I hate, I mean HATE travellers that are so money obsessed, that they can't enjoy themselves.  No one wants to get ripped off, but travellers that argue over 50p, or go around all day trying to find the cheapest  hotel, or won't do anything as it doesn't fit the daily budget! For God Sake! Your the other side of the world; you may never come here again; you might get run over tomorrow; its doesn't bloody matter; your not spending a fortune; your arguing over a £1; enjoy yourself; you idiots!!!!!! As I said, I don't like these type of backpackers!

Tiger Barm:
My top tip without a doubt, is TIGER BARM, TIGER BARM, TIGER BARM! My sister gave me this tip. Its the best thing for Mozzie bites ever.  Its soothes  them when they itch so you never want to itch them to death.  Its a must and I will never go traveling without it.

I hope these tips have been of some help? May the force be with you!