Trials in Transit: WE ARRIVE IN INDIA!

Namaste, friends, families, and freedom fighters.

We write to you from the orange cubby holes of Agra's finest internet cafe. The following is an official record of the Jonas and Cal Bharat Traveling Commission of 2010. Specifically, the report from the transportation (time and safety) committee of this high class operation. Chair: Captain V.A. Calkins (to be clear, Jonas is the Official Chair of all committees, save the Communications Committee, which is chaired by the Honorable C.P. Lowenstein).

I. Landing
Upon landing in New Delhi, we pry ourselves out of the high-ceilinged, air-conditioned terminals of the Plane Station, in search of our names on the finely-printed placards of India's most elite and prestigious limousine companies. But alas! Buster, our faithful but scatter-brained secretary, has once again neglected to reserve us car service. We are forced to enter the hot-aired night of New Delhi to make our own way through the darkness. We converse with a seemingly-reasonable gentleman on the subject of taxi fares, only to watch as he is hauled off by the Delhi police, saving us from an unsavoury fate on our first night in the subcontinent. Three cheers for law enforcement!

II. Cycle Rickshaws and Some Troubles with the Letter 'A'
Varanasi was our first stop on the Indian adventure- a major Hindu pilgrimage site, brimming with barefoot worshippers in orange, making their way to the Ganga's (Ganges) holiest points.
a. In search of lodging, we attempt to find the Raj Ghat, one of Varanasi's many platforms on the Ganga's shore. But alas! Our first attempts were thwarted by the tricky tricksters who named another part of the river, several kilometers upstream, the Raja Ghat. A mere syllable difference led us miles astray! In hopes of saving a rupee or two, we had decided to make the journey by cycle rickshaw, which turned into a walking rickshaw when our gouty driver dismounted to push us up a long hill on foot. We entered the local train station at the Raja ghat, quickly realized we were way out of town, and dumped another 50 rupees to land exactly back where we started. Still unclear where the Raj Ghat was actually located.

III. Sparing the Spinal Cord
With a month's journey ahead of us, Captain VA Calkins put forth a mandate: Ye Who Shall Travel Light Shall Travel Happy. Thus, the Honorable CP Lowenstein was forced to relent with her large red hiking backpack and minimize belongings, eventually reducing luggage to a small green daypack and a shrinking plastic tote. We sat proudly in the Varanasi train station for four hours due to delay of train, surrounded by double-backpacked Europeans and triple-suitcased Koreans, knowing full well that our shoulder blades would thank us in the tennis championships of our golden years, distant though they may be (never too early to prepare!).

Executive Summary:

Delhi: Hot, Near-miss.
Varanasi: Cows, Orange, Barefoot, Ganga, Hot, Retrace, Avoided fatal boat capsize, Home Decor Inspiration.
Agra: Marble, Taj Mahal, Muslim, Feet, Persistent Rickshaw-wallas, Hot, Banana Lassi.
The North: Only Time Will Tell!

With love,
Callie and Virginia