Jo Herrings Adventures

After an overnight train (with more of my lovely Lucknow kindness with a family who gave me a Shirdi Sai Baba bookmark and feed me the best Indian Thali I have enjoyed…now there is a claim for a home cook, and even gently woke me up “Excuse me Miss, we are now in Haridwar, this is you I believe” from the 11 year old boy) and a hairy hour long local bus ride, I arrived in Rishikesh.  "cake peaked" Temples of Rishikesh I had imagined it to be a place filled with Europeans looking languid nestled in quiet spot along the Ganges where you would find inner strength and the serenity would be worthy of your best Zen like Yoga Pose. After all, Rishikesh is the home of Yoga. And jeep horns, pilgrims, begging baba’s and well any kind of yoga retreat you could dream up. So dizzying is this place in 35+ heat that I didn’t last long to take in a Yoga Ashram (live-in Yoga retreat) with so many to choose from I was bamboozled. Getting down with my Yoga Gurus George, John, P

Arriving in deepest darkest night I saw the otherside of the city where cyclo drivers sleep on their bicycles propped awkwardly across the seat in the heat of the dusty summer night. It seemed like a capital of poverty not the capital city of Utter Pradesh the state the world over knows as the home of the Taj Mahal. Because of this I think Lucknow is a sorely missed tourist spot in India’s north. The architecture and in particular the locals are a true treasure. Enjoying a refreshing Saffron Milk drink with a sea of morning old boys  I had two days in Lucknow – one of which was mostly spent at the train station trying to organise a departure. It turns out with a bit of tantrum they do put you a wait list and being a tourist quota (2 seats per class in a sleeper train) I would secure a seat in my preferred 3AC to my next stop Rishikesh. I had flagged a cyclo driver down and with no change had him wait for me as I arranged my ticket. Curiously I would see him the following da

Varanasi, the city of death pyres and the holy Ganga waters. A place I have always wanted to see and experience. Alas at 5.30am after a long night travelling in Indian class for less than a pound had me dusty and tired. The plateau of Indias Northern Utter Pradesh is definitely not a hospitable place for those coming from the mountain air. During my stay we topped the mercury at 47C so you can appreciate the desire to utilise the cool mornings and tranquil evenings is the best time to see the city. I did stay out till noon on the corker day and still Life continued. Much like Jerusalem parts of Varanasi is off bounds to non-Hindus so I saved myself for rejection and more temples on my visit. This may seem a bit defeatist but honestly after 6 months in Asia I feel temples are sadly becoming same same – so much so the sanctity of a Christian Church seems like a home calling when I see one…who would have ever thought! Varanasi is not a place to come if you don’t like walking on

Nepal offered me respite from the heat and people of the intensity only found in India. For this I am grateful and humbled. Politics Jovial Police during a Bandh I arrived in Kathmandu in the middle of a strike (Bandh). The country is currently in the throes of designing its constitution with a tumultuous government with Maosts, Nepali Congress Party and Communists all unable to gain a majority to rule the country since the fall of the monarch in 2002 when the young prince killed all members of his family and then took his own life. My first impression of the capital was of a march of people blocking the roads and not letting our tourist bus through. Most people had got off the bus by this stage so I was with only a few other tourists (mostly Indians), I poked my head out the window after some time (its was 8am, I had not slept on the 16 hour bus trip so again not my best hour!) with my camera in hand. People started to move around the bus and they ushered us on…I guess

I have always wanted to go to Everest Base Camp to see what the closest to the top of the world must be like. My big sister Fiona made it there some 14 years ago on her way to London. She had run into Ants (her old school friend and now my brother-in-law) in the streets of Kathmandu and later met Simon (her husband) after her trek in Chitwan National Park. She had also bought a painting of the beautiful Ama Dablam  (mother mountain for Mum) with Tengboche Monastery in the foreground and it sits pride of place in our family lounge. As a result Nepal and the Everest region screams family adventure to me.     After a couple of days in Kathmandu during a strike (the country is in massive flux as it does not have a constitution or a governing majority) I met Dustin and Elan near my hostel telling them I was keen to do the Everest Base Camp trek. I had been recommended the Anapurna circuit time and time again but with recent deaths due to slips and the coming monsoon rains it see

It seems like an age ago since I was in Sikkim and a month on the road really is. I arrived in Gangtok the central town of the province of Sikkim in Indias far north east. It is a bustling tourist town for Indians and home to an affluent mix of Nepali, Tibetan and Anglo-Indians which showed all of us backpackers up with their fine jeans and rip off labelled outdoor wear. To get into Sikkim you need a permit. Free in price but not in hassle. It had meant I held up a jeep load of locals for 30minutes at the check point. As I walked down the street in Gangtok, dodging the evening rain two guys I met at the checkpoint shouted “New Zealand Girl”. They beckoned me into shelter where I met a German guy and two Hungarians. We needed a group of at least 5 Foreigners at least to hire a jeep and get more permtits to be able to go to the holy lake of Changu bordering Tibet. It meant we would be going high into the hills, near snow! And after months in the heat I was excited to use the mer