Drawing Circles in the Sand

Huge thanks to Josh to finding the best comic series in the history of comic series. (xkcd.com) Backpacker or not, I'm still wired, and those archives took up three hours of my afternoon.

I'm back in Delhi, but this question of an Indian visa is up in the air. I had to go to this obscure Ministry of Home Affairs to get permission for a new visa.

Official: "So.... what do you want?"


Steve: "I'd like something like my old visa, you know, something equivalent."

Official: *laughter* .... [Blogger's note: I'm not joking...]

Steve: "Not possible?"

I wound up with a recommendation that gave me permission to stay in India until June, but the caveat is that I might not get re-entry permission, which would be necessary to cross from Nepal back into India. If they're trying to make me choose between India and Nepal, (if it makes sense to anthromorphize the bureaucratic machine,) then obviously I'm going to choose Nepal. I was pretty tempted to ask them where exactly I could get a Pakistani tourist visa while they were dragging their feet.

Prior to this, I more or less succeeded at adventuring out the path I drew a few blogs ago. From Ahmedabad I travelled onto Bhuj, which was at the epicenter of a massive earthquake five years ago. Bhuj was the closest I got to to true desert on this trip, and accordingly it was irrationally hot. Office hours were from 8-12 and 4-7 to avoid the worst of the midday sun. But I made my pilgrimage to the Arabian sea, through a series of local buses and crammed taxis. It was glorious - if those beaches had been anywhere else in the world, they would have been jammed with revelers. I've decided that the Indians are the only people in the world who are allowed SUVs, because somehow we fit 14 people into our's.

From there I moved onto Jodiphur, in Rajasthan, but at this point my money had run out and I was sort of stuck inside writing and reading newspapers / watching TV due to the heat. I think I felt an earthquake while I was there, a miniature little one. Living off of oranges and bananas feels surprisingly good - thoughts furthered by my learning that Gandhi was a fruitarian for a long part of his life for hygenic and moral reasons.

Now I'm back in Delhi, and armed with a passport I was able to get more money and I'm really pampering myself and buying luxury items. Delhi's been a good time, I'm staying in Connaught Place this time and it seems easier to meet people as a solo traveller (and there's alot more to do after 8 at night). Connaught Place is the essence of Imperial India, this long circular district with big marble facades and all the expensive brand-name stores in Delhi. It's a superb place to wind down and central to everywhere.