India will do that for a person, a country so rich in spirituality and diversity so unlike our own in the west. And I made many new friends along the way that fortunately with our dear Facebook, we can stay in touch with each other as often as either one of us wants to say hello and Namaste. I had an a amazing time in Kathmandu, Nepal as well and want to give a shout out to Nepal, a country I love so dearly.

So what will happen in 2012? I’ve a few things that are pending going into the new year that gets me exited every time I think of the possibilities: currently my novel Overland is being adapted to a screenplay with the prospects of TV or film production of a story so near and dear to my heart. Not just because I wrote it, but because those that have read it love it, and I’d really like the rest of the world get to know this unbelievable romantic adventure. I am also close to signing with a literary agent to represent my book and future books to be published by mainstream traditional publishers for wider exposure. Both of these events will make 2012 another milestone year. Now my only hope is that the Mayans are wrong and 2012 comes and goes peacefully and that life will go on. Happy New Year in 2012 and thank you for being friends with me on that 800 million member website!

Aside from such delusory sayings, having an agent is a big step in publishing books with
top name book publishers.

All this sound good and all, and it is …yet when you travel
every moment of every day is packed with such sensory overload that it propels
you into a so called “super life”, far far away from the drudgeries and routine
of the everyday life. This is what I like about traveling, even if within that
moment it is a simple stop at a tea stall, or buying bananas from a local fruit
seller. We all do these same things here, but doing them over there is what stands out as living that
super life, even though it is the same functions and somewhat routine chores we
carry out on a daily basis here…it is the
there that makes it all be so special, to be amongst the people, the
streets, the chaos and the electricity of excitement that runs through you.

How I miss it all…I’m reminded of a portion of dialog from
an art house film, My Dinner with Andre
from the early 1980’s. This from Wikipedia about the film: The film depicts a
conversation between two old friends in a chic
restaurant in New York City. Based mostly on conversation, the
dialogue contrasts Shawn’s modest, down-to-earth humanism with
Gregory’s extravagant spiritual experiences in India.

Gregory had just returned from his trip to India and rhapsodized about everything Indian. Shawn
goes on to say he can get the same thrill buying a tooth brush walking up 32^nd Street in Manhattan.

I had to buy a toothbrush the other day and drove to my local store to get one. I didn’t get
the same thrill as Shawn…Hopefully, the next time I need a toothbrush, I’ll probably fly to India to get one.

I ordered a bowl of rice and noodles soup, with an egg and various side dishes, including my favorite kimchi, spicy vinegar pickled veggies. The meal came out and instinctively picked up the chopsticks. I was sort of toying with the soup with a huge fried egg covering the soup. One of the lovelies in green came over and picked up the spoon and cut the egg in pieces for me, and said eat that way. I said okay as she handed me the spoon while exchanging smiles. I could get used to this. I ate my meal and had all kinds of questions for them, mainly how’d they escape this ruthless regime anyway?  Well, I never really got such an answer but it seems the hotel above the restaurant is full of North Koreans and dear Kathmandu is their sanctuary. I wanted to take their picture but they said no, and so I mocked taking a picture with my hands and they all laughed, the yellow, pink and green puffy dress gals.

What was interesting is that as I was their first American they ever met, I found out they had been here in this restaurant for a year. And I was the first American to eat there? Lucky me! I said goodbye and in unison they called out, see you again. You know it!

When we visited the rail station, one of our hosts, a man by the name of Ashley, was a bit disappointed that one of the AI’s or Anglo Indians wasn’t’ there that day. This is a woman, who back in the day, was absolutely gorgeous according to the blue eyed pale skinned Ashley. But the ravages of alcohol had reduced her  to be destitute and was a fruit seller at the railway station. After I was told about her, I too would have liked to have met her, but alas. But Ashley was kind enough to take us to his home,, to meet his mother in law, wife and son. And so we did. And it was there I got a greater insight into this fascinating group of people. His mother in law was third generation AI. Her grandfather came to India in the early 1900’s, and she had spent her entire life, born and raised in McKlusieganj. She had pale skin, blue eyes and spoke perfect English with an Indian and ever so slightly British accent.

When I asked her if she’d been to England, she said she has never been outside of India. Oh, she’d been to nearby Calcutta and Delhi, but that’s about it. Her son in law, my new friend Ashley actually works in Mumbai and travels around Indian much for his job in telecom, but we had the fortune that day that he was in town visiting his mom, an AI with Italian blood on her side, whom I also met.

It wasn’t a lengthy visit with the family and in fact, were quite disappointed we had to leave so quickly. They do welcome visitors, including a crew from the BBC to film a documentary about these AI’s. Of course, a flood gate of ideas poured into my writer’s brain of the possibilities of the stories that could come out of this all too brief experience and worthy of another visit and some in depth research into Anglo Indians. So we bid our adieu til another day.

The experience at the ashram, the bus ride, the monsoon, left me drained and depleted and soggy. I’d been traveling for five weeks. Certainly not a long time by long term travelers, but long enough in that a badly needed respite was well, badly needed. As the long, overnight bus ride pulled into the bus station, I was simply bedraggled. Hadn’t showered for two days, shaved, I smelled, I was probably close to being mildewed. I really needed to just to a complete makeover of body and mind and soul. And I really wasn’t sure I knew where I was going other than a traveler’s tip from Goa was to go to Fort Cochin.

As the bus pulled into the Cochin station, all I saw along the way was a big city, nothing real special and my heart sank. This was to be my oasis? I asked an auto rickshaw guy to take me to Fort Cochin..it was all I had to go on. As we approached Fort Cochin my spirits were elevated, no make that restored. I found my new favorite oasis in Fort Cochin. Relaxed tree lined streets dotted with home stays and guest houses and there were even western travelers here. OMG…I found it, another sanctuary like in Rishikesh, where travelers actually go.

I checked into Ann’s Residency and took a shower, had breakfast of hot coffee, omelet, toast, people to talk to, WIFI…in other words, paradise! As I wrote earlier, if you don’t like where you’re at something better will come, and it did. And immediately went to work. Deadlines for book events were upcoming, airline tickets needed to be booked, clothes needing washing, and stuff back home needed to be mailed..and my phone needed a minutes recharge. I did it all and never felt so relieved in my life!

I even had a visit by a journalist for a face to face interview for The Hindu newspaper. The nice family of the guest was wondering who is this guy who takes over the computer, has journalists showing up and laying on all his demands? A guy who needed it, is who! I proceeded to get to know this charming and quaint seaside town by casually strolling the streets. I was restored!

The next couple days were more of the same. I took a tour with an auto rickshaw guy of Jew town, spoke to a few shop owners who all seem to be from Kashmir, and we collectively rhapsodized about Kashmir. Kind of funny, all very true. And I ate well. Breakfast was provided by Ann’s Residency and a hearty one at that, coffee, omelet, toast and a huge portion of freshly cut pineapple, mango, papaya and a yellow kiwi. 

Again, I had the place to myself, other than the family, but no fellow travelers. It dawned on me I was missing them. Whether it be a brief encounter or days on end, like The Brotherhood of Rishikesh. The monsoon rain was the reminder that this is off season. Late July and August, the owner of Ann’s residency said, will start to boom. I debate this within myself what is better? The place to myself and all the attention or to compete for rooms, service etc?

The morning I left Ann’s, I found a French family and young man from Germany in the van waiting for me to take us all to the boat for the long and highly anticipated awaited backwater trip from Cochin to Alleppey. And it was fun. We all became instant friends, laughing, chatting and a slight shock factor that I speak some French. It was a tranquil ride too, full of tropical beauty and a slow paddled ride down stream. We stopped on shore for a deliciously simple lunch of various Keralan treats served on a banana leaf. The ride was nearly over when I discovered we weren’t going as far as Alleppey. As it turns out we were 40 klics from Alleppey and I was to take a bus. The boat docked and said goodbye to my new friends, an all too brief yet fun time. And found myself on a horribly crowded bus that lasted two hours and seemed forever. What a buzzkill after such a tranquil day. It was nearly dark and raining when the bus arrived into Alleppey. And after some fruitless searching for the hotel the Cochin guy gave me, the auto rickshaw guy found it. It was a simple yet nice place situated on the lagoon, and had dinner…alone. It was raining and didn’t have the greatest sleep as I had an early wake up call for the train to Trivandrum.

When I arrived at the station to purchase a ticket, there was a huge line and my train time was quickly approaching. I cut into the front and got a ticket and boarded the incredibly crowded commuter train, No AC sleeper here, it was strictly to get from point A to B. I had to stand the first hour, and sat smushed  next to my fellow seat sharers. All my relaxed time at Ft. Cochin was out the window with the crush of Indian humanity with the back to back bus and train rides. I needed some solace, I needed to be restored again. And then it dawned on me: I was in Trivandrum, and scheduled to take a hotel in town. But just down the road was the place where I first set foot on Indian soil 26 years, Kovalam Beach. Kovalam Beach! Go there I practically shouted, and so I did!

When I arrived at night into Rishikesh, I was exhilarated to be here and completely spent from almost 20 hours of bus rides to get here from Manali. On the 2^nd bus from Chandigarh to Rishikesh, I had the fortune to meet Taijana of Germany and Lisa from Austria. It was a lucky break to find these two girls, amidst the locals, as westerners do team up in such moments. I had been mostly alone during my travels thus far, and was relieved to find some friends. We booked our separate rooms at the hotel, had dinner then breakfast the next morning, and then went to tour this magical city. At sunset, we attended the holy Hindu Aarti ceremony of dance and music on the Ganga. Throngs of Hindu devotees, and a multitude of Sadhu’s or Holy men, dressed in simple orange loin cloth, and hair dreadlocked piled high. It was quite the entrancing moment and thus far the highlight of my trip. Afterwards, we had dinner what was to be my oasis for the rest of my days in Rishikesh, a common area to serve the entire surrounding hotel’s and guest houses.

Lisa and Taijana were still sleeping that morning and couldn’t wait much longer and went downstairs for breakfast, including the always must have few cups of coffee. I am constantly asked when relaying my story of being in India twenty ix years ago and now, what are the biggest differences. For one, coffee is everywhere. So are cell phones. And like any morning, I lived for my cups of coffee. At breakfast I met Ke from South Africa and Elijah from Australia. These two guys had teamed up in Shimla and had just arrived the night before. And so we chatted for a bit and decided the place we were all staying at was kind of seedy, and wanted to find another place to stay…which seems to be the thing when traveling around. I found the primo’est of rooms at the top of the hill with a magnificent view below of the Ganga and Luxman Juhl area of Rishikesh. I retrieved my bag, and ran into Lisa and Taijana and said I was checking out just above where they were staying.

They went on to do some errands in preparation for their departure to Delhi and on to China. A word about these two fearless girls: they met in Singapore doing overseas studies and teamed up to travel Asia, and not just India.  After a month in India, they were to tour China, and then on to Viet Nam, Laos and possibly Cambodia. These girls were fearless, and young, 21 and 24 respectively. Now, sometimes I think I’m all that for traveling around like I have and do, but they just embodied cool, so young yet so off the charts travelers. So we said goodbye and really grateful to have met them when feeling slightly isolated thus far.

I went to the oasis we called our common restaurant area for a lemon soda, and ran into Ke and Elijah who was sitting with Leon from the Netherlands. I joined them and a bond immediately formed as we talked music, Rishikesh, life. I had mentioned that I really wanted to see the Beatles Ashram, where they stayed in 1968. It was that trip that ignited mine and millions of others from the west about India. We agreed to tour the ashram the next day and when we did, the Brotherhood of Rishikesh was formed and united forever.

It was raining when we left the hotel area. But that only added to the anticipation of what we were to see. It wasn’t a very long walk to the ashram area but was dripping wet with rain and sweat by the time we arrived. When we did, something transformed us all. Just by being on the abandoned, decaying and overgrown jungle area produced an other-worldly feeling just knowing the history of the grounds. The Beatles were as sacred as anything. The ashram had been aband0ned some years ago by the Mahareeshi Mahesh Yogi, the guru the Beatles has been introduced to the year before. The Mahareeshi had convinced them to come to Rishikesh to stay at his ashram and to be part of daily ashram life. Ringo the least interested of the four lads, left after a couple weeks and Paul to follow later. It was John and George that stayed for a couple months and decided to leave after rumor started that the Mahareeshi made a pass at actress Mia Farrow. This rightfully angered John and George and wanted to leave. When the Mahareeshi asked John why they were leaving, John in his own forthright wrapped irony said, “if you’re so cosmic, you should know.” Thus, the storied stay of the Beatles in Rishikesh.

Years later, upon the conclusion of our tour, we four lads were left with an equally stunning and compelling sensation that will stay with us forever, and cementing our Brother of Rishikesh. Elijah, the educator from Australia, Ke, the soft spoken emotional healer from South Africa, and Leon, the enthusiastic and fellow Beatles from The Netherlands, and yours truly, the quiet American formed a friendship that will lst forever.