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U. S. Soldiers Home Mac: during a century of travel (well 78 years!)
both in and out of service I have travelled to over 150 countries (I count
both North and South Dakota as countries) and for some reason have jotted
signs and happenings that I thought funny at the time (and now wonder
why). So here is the perfect opportunity to share some of my anecdotes.

Beijing, China. The Imperial Palace in the Forbidden City in Beijing
has 9,000 rooms. We agree that if we got lost and separated from each
other we would meet in the Hall of Heavenly Purity (if they would let
us in) At the time I was there the military did no wear rank on their
uniforms (don’t know if this still applies or not) You could kind
of get an idea of who outranked who by the number of pockets they had
on their blouse of uniform. Someone with four pockets would have their
baggage carried by someone with one pocket or no pockets.

In the hotels the orchestras (In the Peace Hotel in Shanghai I think
they had some of the members or orchestra from the 30s) would play songs
they thought we would like. Oh Susannah from a couple of decades ago seems
to be making a comeback as well as Turkey in the Straw and Auld Lang Sang.
At the end of each number the players would put down their instruments
and applaud us in the audience. We could hardly wait for the Tuba player
to unwind from his Tuba to applaud us. Everyone in our tour group caught
colds (from the dust) except those that had taken Vitamin C for a couple
of weeks before arriving in China. Mr Wu our guide referred to the Royal
Bank of Canada (George from Canada wanted to get some money) as the Loyal
Bank of Canada. One of the military said that when he was in China years
before he took a piece of the wall and had a name plate put on it and
sent it to movie actress Carole Lombard as he had read that she collected
rocks. She threw it back. No she wrote and thanked him.

Our Chinese guide in Wuxi kind of had a high opinion of himself (unusual
for Chinese) and though he was hip in Western ways. He liked to show off
and showed us how he was proficient in Tai Chi (shadow boxing). Blonde
vivacious Liza asked him to dance with her. He said No that he could not
dance with a client but that he would arm-wrestle her Ha. He told long
involved stories about the Kingdom of Wu and Dragons and such. George
whispered: I wonder what he would say if we told him we didn’t want
to hear any more dragon stories? If I were going to China today I would
probably take my own plastic chopsticks. In Japan they have disposable
chopsticks but in China they have plastic ones that you hope they wash
after several others have used them. If going to China start a walking
program at home. Walk around the block then next day further as in China
even on escorted tours you are going to be doing more walking than you
possibly do at home. Build up you let muscles before leaving home. I put
as many Chinese stamps on letters sent home as possible for stamp collectors
back home as their stamps are so colourful and unusual. While there their
coffee was not very good so taking instant coffee along helped. The hotels
had thermos bottle of hot water for tea in your room, which they replenished
every morning and this was handy to make coffee with.

Kneehow (phonetic) in Chinese means hello. In China Carol who was from
England and had a beautiful voice would sing slightly risqué Cockney
songs and George would sing “My old lady and the lady next door went
down the river on a barnyard door singing Ki Yi Yippie Yi ” and nonsensical
songs. Miss Cha who was trying to learn English (she had taught herself)
wanted to learn some of these songs so she could sing them to her next
tour group. As some were risqué Carol said. “My dear I don’t
think you really need to learn these songs” Les would give his excellent
imitation of Peter Sellers imitating an Indian and his accent was hilariously
correct. We should have been a USO troop. We laughed all the way across
China. If you are in high altitude eating onions will help combat altitude
sickness.

Next month, Mac discusses his travels through India. If you would like
to contact Mac, he can be e-mailed on: macsan400@yahoo.com

Part One:

We had listened with excitement to our friend’s description of
his travels in the tribal regions of Kinnaur and Spiti, in the North Indian
State of Himachal Pradesh. Bordering Tibet, these areas had only recently
been opened to foreigners.

The following May we set off from Goa, where we spend our winters, and
headed for Shimla, the former summer capital of the British Raj. It was
our second visit to this bit of old England located on top of and spilling
over both sides of a steep ridge in the foothills of the Himalayas. Even
a scaled down copy of London’s Gaiety Theatre sits on the Mall,
the town’s high street from where on a clear day you can see high
peaks while strolling past and poking into quaint old shops, including
Maria Brother’s Antiquarian Bookshop, where you never know what
treasures you’ll find.

We inquired about Kinnaur and Spiti at the tourist office, housed in
a Tudor-style building on the Mall. They tried to be helpful but there
wasn’t much official information to be had about the region. That
was ten years ago. The bureaucratic hassles involved in obtaining permission
to enter this region at that time were so formidable that few travellers
managed it, and of those who did, most received permission to stay for
only a week and others were even required to take a police escort with
them. Surprisingly, the officer in charge of a small district headquarters
granted us a two-month unrestricted permit from simply because we had
struck a friendly note with him. Such is the way things happen in India.
In the past few years entry restrictions have been relaxed and we have
been back many times.

The district of Kinnaur is largely Hindu, but being far from the centres
of mainstream Hinduism, it has retained an archaic character: oracles
go into trances and the gods of the villages speak through them. There
are no Brahmins here to act as priests; Buddhist lamas conduct the major
household rituals for the Hindus, those concerned with birth, marriage
and death, a practice unheard of elsewhere in Hindu India. Spiti though,
is Lamaistic Buddhist as is Tibet, but the religion is more archaic here,
retaining ancient ways, magical practices and archaic rituals that long
ago disappeared from Tibet.

Over the years, we’ve spent many months exploring Kinnaur and
Spiti, living in small villages, walking the trails between remote villages
and into the high, uninhabited mountains and attending festivals at gompas
(monasteries)—colourful events when the lamas don gorgeous silken
brocade robes, masks and headdresses and perform graceful dances to the
sounds of kettle drums and unbelievably long, curved brass horns. Once
we pitched our tent on top of a flat-roofed mud house and watched the
lamas practice their graceful steps and leaps for a week before the festival
began. The dances are dramatizations of stories from Tibetan Buddhist
myths, all very well known to the lively and appreciative audience of
villagers, decked out in their finest and most exotic apparel; they come
from near and far to watch these shows. We sat among them and enjoyed
being among these gentle and colourful, full-of-life people.

At a festival at Ki Gompa, which is built around the small, rubbly cone
of an extinct volcano, when the dances were over, the audience got up
and moved to the hillside behind the monastery. There they formed long,
snaking lines and prostrated themselves to make a living carpet for the
lamas to walk on. Talk about devotion! The people consider their lamas
to be literally living gods.

Ki village is high above the Spiti Valley, north of Kaza, Spiti’s
main town. The bazaar has the timeless feel of an ancient entrepôt.
It is a meeting place of people from all over the Himalayas and the Indian
plains who come here to trade donkeys, yaks, rugs, turquoise and coral,
seed pearls and peas… (and Spiti is renowned for its fine riding
horses able to navigate the narrowest of mountain trails, and also for
its wily horse traders).

The town is dotted with small squares built around gleaming white, highly
embellished chortens or stupas, the reliquary mounds found everywhere
in the Buddhist Himalayas, and shaded by ancient gnarled poplars. And
surrounding the town are stark, boldly hued mountains. In this high-altitude,
desert-like region all cultivation must be carried on by extensive and
ingenious irrigation schemes, complex networks of channels that bring
water to the fields from glaciers in the mountains high above. The emerald
fields of barley and peas are like jewels set into this rugged, rocky
landscape. Massive mud-brick houses and monasteries washed gleaming white
with distinctive black and ochre trim stand out against the green of the
fields and the deep blue of the sky.

More in our next letter about Spiti’s distinctive style of architecture—it’s
amazing what you can do with mud! And, what happened when it rained in
this place where it never rains!

Martin and Carol Noval have been living in India for more than twenty
years and organize and lead several special cultural tours and treks a
year for small groups. They’ll be leading road trips and treks in
Spiti next summer (2003). If you would like to get in touch, email them
at tripsintoindia@usa.net and check their website www.tripsintoindia.com

Submitted by Frank from the US. Actual comments from US travel agents:

A woman called and asked, “Do airlines put your physical description
on your bag so they know whose luggage belongs to who?” I said, “No,
why do you ask?” She replied, “Well, when I checked in with
the airline, they put a tag on my luggage that said FAT, and I'm overweight,
is there any connection?” After putting her on hold for a minute
while I looked into it” (I was actually laughing) I came back and
explained the city code for Fresno is FAT, and that the airline was just
putting a destination tag on her luggage.

I just got off the phone with a man who asked, “How do I know which
plane to get in?” I asked him what exactly he meant, which he replied,
“I was told my flight number is 823, but none of these darn planes
have numbers on them.”

A woman called and said, “I need to fly to Pepsi-Cola on one of
those computer planes.” I asked if she meant to fly to Pensacola
on a commuter plane. She said, “Yeah, whatever.”

A businessman called and had a question about the documents he needed
in order to fly to China. After a lengthy discussion about passports,
I reminded him he needed a visa. “Oh no I don't, I've been
to China many times and never had to have one of those.” I double-checked
and sure enough, his stay required a visa. When I told him this he said,
“Look, I've been to China four times and every time they have
accepted my American Express.”

A woman called to make reservations; “I want to go from Chicago
to Hippopotamus, New York.” The agent was at a loss for words. Finally,
the agent said, “Are you sure that's the name of the town?”
“Yes, what flights do you have?” replied the customer. After
so me searching, the agent came back with, “I'm sorry, ma'am,
I've looked up every airport code in the country and can't find
a Hippopotamus anywhere.” The customer retorted, “Oh don't
be silly, everyone knows where it is. Check your map!” The agent
scoured a map of the state of New York and finally offered, “You
don't mean Buffalo, do you?” “That's it! I knew it
was a big animal!”

Nick from London says that he thinks that it does not really count if
you have only been to the inside of an airport in a particular country,
though others may argue this point. There are other brief visits I have
made to countries. For instance, a couple of years ago I was holidaying
in Thailand and took one of those long tail boat trips on the Mekong river
in the Golden Triangle. During the short journey the boat driver called
in at a jetty on the Lao side of the river for petrol.

Aha! I thought to myself, This is an opportunity to visit Laos! I leapt
off the boat and walked up the jetty and spent a couple of minutes on
the riverbank on the Lao side of the river. So I have had a very short
“visit” to Laos, at least I have stood on Laotian soil, but
of course I can't really say that I have been to the country in any
usual sense. Perhaps others have similar rapid drop ins on countries?
Write in and let the Beetle
know what you think!

My partner and I (aged 55 and 65) went RTW for 12 months to April 2002.
She has written a book on it but is looking for a publisher. I went to
internet cafes to maintain a long journal. So rather than travellers'
tales here are some notes on how we did it. The RTW deal was from Star
Alliance, giving us 12 months, 15 stops and 39000 miles. A couple of times
when in dispute with an airline the Alliance link was useful. Their miles
include overland legs which seems unfair but it is still good value. They
allow backtracking, which we needed for India to China.

We flew to Brazil for two lazy weeks to get over the strain of preparations,
then to Lima. We took buses – we avoided 'luxury' or 'tourist'
buses -round Peru and despite being told it was impossible found a cheap
way to Macchu Picchu. Three-day trips to Colca Canyon and to the Peruvian
Amazon jungle. Bus and boat (aided by the Bolivian Navy!) to cold La Paz
then bus on 'the most dangerous road in the world' to lovely Coroico.
Flew to Costa Rica, which seemed very wealthy and grotesquely American!

But we had a wonderful time there – eco-tourism on the Caribbean coast
and in the cloud forest. I wrote a report on working conditions on the
banana plantations. Then buses through sad Nicaragua, tough Honduras (staying
with the Garifuna) and Guatemala with its staggering range of wealth.
We were in luxury after three months of back packers' hotels and crowded
but fascinating bus journeys. Then we bought a car in Florida and eventually
sold it in British Columbia. (One could write a book this, as on each
leg of the journey.) This was not as easy as it sounds – big problems
with driver's licence and insurance. But surmountable. Boat and bus
to Houston BC. Strange coming back to sophistication a few days after
9/11, a different world. Hawaii then fabulous Tonga. Real bliss as the
only visitors on an idyllic island, and time to think. Here my partner
discovered the magic of snorkelling.

NZ was surprisingly far nicer than expected, Sydney also amazes. We were
kept busy there and in Canberra and Melbourne giving talks. Thailand where
we made lasting friends, one a young man not half way through 25 years
imprisonment for drug smuggling. Don’t even think about it! Interesting
to contrast the type of tourists here with those in S America. Almost
a different breed. So to the jewel. Three months in India lived up to
all my hopes and dreams. A stopover in steamy sophisticated Singapore
(the night time zoo worth a visit) thence to Beijing, and onto the trans-Asia
train with stops including three weeks in Mongolia (hiring a jeep to traverse
the Gobi), Siberia (Lake Baikal), Moscow and glorious St Petersburg.

Stockholm was refreshing and spring time in England utterly delightful.
Total cost was less than £4,000 on fares, plus £400 a week
rent we got on our London homes. We ate local workers' food. We often
stayed in people's homes – fellow Quakers, a hosting organisation,
far flung family and friends. Otherwise in the better rooms in cheap hotels.
Motels (except some on Route 66) have no character but are great value.
Or ashrams. The only problematic visa was that for Russia, though others
such as India and China needed some care. I was surprised to find one
of the most irksome problems was telephoning – one needs to see if mobiles
can be adapted cheaply in each region. Only disappointments: despite three
weeks in most places we usually seemed to be in a hurry, and sadly I lost
several sets of slides.

Essentials include up-to-date Guides. We used Footprint guides for Latin
America because it avoids having lots of volumes; and for India as well
as Lonely Planet there and everywhere else. “Road Trip USA”
for the side roads. Take both Visa and MasterCard (and Maestro if possible)
as many areas take only one or the other. We had all the jabs recommended
except expensive encephalitis. We never resolved all the arguments for
and against anti-malaria tablets, and if so which ones. But insect repellent
from day 1, and a hat if you are bald like me. I had to have scalp pre-cancer
treatment on return. I was supplied with and shown how to use self-catheterisation
by the NHS. Never had to do it but without it I would not have dared go
to Tonga, or deep into the Gobi.

Medically we had very few problems, tummy bug twice, and chest complaints
in the Andes. I got shingles when in Thailand but was easily able to get
powerful drugs (for £50 – a fortune), which knocked it out. But
we had quite a few strains from lugging our packs (and from 3 days meditating
cross legged in a Buddhist temple!) We both had Karrimor wheeled rucksacks
and seldom had to hump them. My advice – just DO IT! Don't worry about
food and accommodation and robbery.

Ignore travel mags and ads. They make it scary so you'll use their
expensive services. Just GO! Details on the web site (at http://home.clara.net/spetter/sp/,
but sadly I don't have time and space to mention our lovely hosts
and the travellers and locals we met. To contact Stephen for any hints
or tips, please e-mail him on: spetter@clara.net