We’ve finally finished converting our 360 panoramic views to Flash. Our collection now includes 20 panoramas, so start spinning your way around Asia. We’ve even added three new views, including: a cave temple at Ajanta in India, Ta Prohm temple in Cambodia, and the Shwe Dagon Pagoda in Myanmar.

 

Just Click a Thumbnail Above to Begin

Wow, two years! We can hardly believe it ourselves. It seems like we just set out from Berlin last week. From Germany to Hong Kong across China and Tibet to India via Nepal, year one saw a lot of movement. Our second year has been almost entirely spent on the Subcontinent. But as those who have followed along have seen, India is a world unto itself. To recall some of our adventures, we’ve put together an interactive gallery.

Well, we’ve spent a total of 15 months here. So, do we like it? The question almost seems ridiculous. We hate the country, and we love it. Every day we find ourselves cursing this place and swearing we are going to leave. And then moments later, we discover something wondrous. We’ve never witnessed such cruelty, but somehow the moments of kindness seem all the more touching. The country is one massive contradiction, so it is not surprising that our responses should be contradictory.

Hindu gods? Or South Park characters?

After two days in India, our philosophy became “Let’s just see the whole damn country and get the hell out and never come back!” But now, somehow the idea of not returning to India seems terrifying. Why? Traveling here is such an intense experience. Somehow every single day seems like it is filled with major life lessons. Or, perhaps, we just have a serious case of Stockholm Syndrome.

So we are off to Bangkok to find some cheap tickets to the U.S. But don’t worry, our adventures aren’t over. They’ve only just begun!

If you love the soundtrack “Dancing with the Goddess” by Atman as much as I do, you can download it from Amazon for a small fee. Also check out his other mp3 albums at Amazon.

Escaping our room during one of these power outages, we decided to visit Mother House. Simply known as “Mother” in Calcutta, Mother Teresa is revered as a soon-to-be saint by Christians and a demi-god by Hindus. She is synonymous with Calcutta, and people of all religions love her here.

Although I am no great fan of organized religion, and I am quite aware of the controversy surrounding many of Mother Teresa’s beliefs, including her strict opposition to contraception, I nevertheless believe that her extraordinary work in the slums of Calcutta merits the requisite pilgrimage to Mother House. Could any visit to Calcutta be complete without it?

And the trip was well worth it. The simple, soft-spoken nuns donning the easily recognizable blue and white saris made famous by Mother Teresa were incredibly inviting, especially considering the fact that they must have hundreds of tourist dropping by each day. I was massively impressed by Mother Teresa’s simple tomb, it spoke volumes about her sincerity and her beliefs. And the small museum dedicated to her life was absolutely fascinating. I was intrigued by wording which appeared to subtly critique the opulence of the church in a world with such poverty. Even in death, Mother Teresa seems to be making a clear statement.

But perhaps the most fascinating fact appeared towards the end of the museum. On the night Mother Teresa died, she was experiencing heart problems and a doctor was called in to attend to her. As Mother Teresa lie struggling in her bed, the doctor wanted to administer life-saving oxygen, but couldn’t. Why? Because there was a power outage.

During the white-hot day, I have the continual feeling that I’m going to drop over dead from heat stroke. It seems like we spend most of our time hiding from the sun. But at night, Calcutta is perhaps the greatest location in the world for people watching. Emerging from the shadows like tropical vampires, Indians and tourists take to the streets. Strolling the filthy, steamy city at dusk, one cannot help being drawn into the manic sense of euphoria that results when the nuclear sun sets. Snacks are roasted on metal-drum stoves as hand-drawn rickshaws race through the roads. Veiled women intermix with painted holy men as hijra pop curses at passers-by. It’s like performance art on the largest scale imaginable!

Over the last year and a half, we have explored some of the regions best natural attractions including national parks, reserves, and remote wilderness regions. The explorations have been made on foot as well as by jeep, canoe, kayak, camel and elephant.

To recall our adventures, we have put together a pictorial, a sort of photographic trophy wall to share a tiny bit of the regions diversity with you. All of the animals included were photographed by us in the wild. Since we do not have a 600 mm lens and a fifty pound tripod, that is much more challenging than it sounds. While the big game may seem the most impressive, one shot in particular should be considered our ultimate trophy, the photo of the two camouflaged nightjars. Believe it or not, they were actually spotted by our guide from a moving jeep!

But starting this summer, TATA is reshaping itself with the release of the TATA Nano. Heralded throughout India as the one lakh car (see article on lakh), the slimmed down version of the ultra compact Nano, which retails for around $2000, will make the dream of owning an automobile reality for many middle-class Indians. To many Indians, the introduction of the “common man’s car” represents a huge step forward for India and a shortening of the gap between India and the West.

But anyone who has visited India will immediately recognize a HUGE problem with the introduction of an inexpensive car. India’s roads, especially in the urban areas, are already clogged beyond comprehension. In a nation of 1.3 billion people, a “common man’s car” represents every man’s environmental nightmare.

Such fears are heightened by the fact that cost cutting measures mean that the Nano will be less than environmentally friendly to begin with, not to mention rather unsafe to drive. (Reports suggest that parts of the Nano are glued rather than welded and that the steering column is hollow. Yikes!)

So for those of you who thought the pollution and the traffic couldn’t get any worse – just wait – it’s only just begun. And as the West’s automobile-loving cultures are looking for ways to reduce their dependence on cars, the East is dreaming of a world filled with freeways and traffic jams.

Due to its proximity to China, travel restrictions in Northern Sikkim allow foreigners to visit the region only as part of an organized trip. A forced semi-luxurious tour in a private jeep with prearranged accommodation and food so to speak. But we actually enjoyed it. I guess we were ready to just kick back and let somebody else do the organizing. And the fantastic group we were part of, made this trip a blast.

Follow along as we hit the road and the trails and make our way into Northern Sikkim with our travel companions Emelie and Carl from Sweden, Alok from Holland, and Ludolv from Germany. Check out Sikkim’s stunning scenery, Lachen and Rumptek monasteries, and enjoy the famous views from Pelling of the one and only Kangchendzonga, the third highest mountain in the world.

My name is Tony, and I’m a tongbaholic.

Normally, I’m not a huge drinker, but it turns out that’s simply because I had never been to Sikkim. Tongba, also known as “chang” in certain parts of Sikkim, is a traditional hot fermented millet drink, which is fantastic. (Well, I think it is fantastic – not everyone agrees.)

The process of making the drink is half the fun. Locals pack the traditional stein-sized wooden Tongba tub, which looks kind of like a small barrel, with fermented millet. Next, hot water is poured over the grain filling the tub to the rim. Then you wait for the hot water to take on the flavor, which many compare to Japanese sake. Finally, the finished brew is drunk through a thin bamboo straw which is used to filter out the millet pellets. Yum!!! Plus, you can keep adding hot water to the fermented millet to make more. Where else can you get a bottomless mini-barrel of alcohol?

Having been to many of these regions ourselves, we are well aware that the 21st century is quickly coming to the Himalyas – I have no illusions about their continued isolation. However, I have to admit Sikkim threw me for a loop. Driving into the tiny capital, Gantok, I was shocked to discover an incredibly elaborate pedestrian mall lined with trendy shops, restaurants, and cafes serving cappucino and blueberry cheesecake. At first glance, it felt like I was somewhere in Europe, an impression that was enhanced by the much cooler temperatures. The living standard here appears light years ahead of the rest of India. Nice cars, fashionable haircuts, working women, uniformed kids skipping through the perfectly paved streets. Amazing.

Unfortunately, modern living means very little traditional culture outside the Buddhist monasteries. The only tradionally dressed people are monks and nuns, the occasional Lepcha tribal person, and the few Bhutanese who cross over to go shopping in Gantok. If you are seeking traditional culture, this is not really the best part of the Himalayas. However, we specifically came to Sikkim for the landscape and the flora, and that leaves NO room for disappointment at all.

One college-educated, young professional we encountered proudly informed us that India would be the “world leader” by 2015. Thinking that he meant 2050, we asked for clarification. “No, no” he assured us, “India will lead the world by 2015. In six years.”

“How will it lead the world,” we probed, “economically? militarily? culturally?”

“In every way,” he assured us.

Baffling. But where is this coming from?

Travelers we have met who have been to the country in the past have suggested that this is a relatively new phenomenon. They recall that Indians have always been proud of the country. But the sense of predestination for greatness appears to be new. There’s a bizarre sense of entitlement that is perplexing. Many Indians easily accept the notion that the West is quickly collapsing in on itself as fact. They assume this means the rise of India. The West’s new-found fascination with India and its quick praise seems to be inflating some seriously unrealistic expectations.

Media depictions of Bangalore, Pune and Hyderabad as ultra-modern tech centers modeled on Silicon Valley are misleading. Visions of well dressed Indians working in English speaking call centers and programmers pumping out the latest code leave the impression that India is being catapulted into the 21st century. The media hype is quickly convincing everyone, including Indians themselves, that the future has arrived and that India is the next China. But the reality is that these industries employ a small fraction of one percent of the population.

In no way can the evolution of India be compared to that of China. With all its problems, China has undergone massive societal change involving every aspect of life. India is changing at a much slower pace. Middle-class Chinese we talked to understand many of their challenges. Middle-class Indians generally do not. Most Indians we have met quickly dismiss massive illiteracy, wide-spread corruption, the continued existence of ancient diseases such as leprosy and elephantiasis, and devastating environmental issues. That’s a lot to overlook.

No question that nationalism has made India myopic. Moments after the attackers in Mumbai ran past our hotel, Indians described “Americans shooting people in the streets” despite the fact that the attackers were clearly South Asian. Thomas and I are regularly subjected to baggage/security checks as Indians push by unnoticed by the police. For many Indians, terrorism is solidly the domain for foreigners. That Indians could be implicated in such events is often incomprehensible.

Yet indisputably, there is an upside to this nationalism as well. I have to come back to the homeless people living on the sidewalks screaming that “India is the greatest country on earth!” A year here has proven that these feelings appear to be keeping very desperate people far more content than would otherwise be expected. Indians do indeed love their nation. And that may prove a huge advantage to the country.

How much do Indians love their country? Well, it’s hard to put into words. But it’s not hard to put into video! One of the bizarrest examples of Indian patriotism-gone-wild is the truly odd border closing ceremony near Amritsar in Punjab (which we visited last fall). Every day, thousands of Indians come to the border to sit in an arena and scream and yell and cheer their superiority across the border at a crowd of Pakistanis on the other side. Add to that, a psycho goose stepping soldier showdown and you’ve got one hell of a show. It’s part disco, part cultural meltdown, part Monty Python sketch. If you haven’t seen the border closing ceremony, you haven’t seen India. Keep in mind, this crowded spectacle happens every day of the year, and although this is only a two minute video, the actual ceremony lasts about forty minutes! That’s a lot of screaming, gyrating, and goose-stepping. (Notice in the video that Indians refer to India as Hindustan.)

If you want to get a glimpse of the darker side of Indian nationalism, check out their comments on our tongue-in-cheek YouTube review of the Rajdhani Express. We can vouch for the fact that these comments are quite representative of what you hear every day in India (if you are listening). Just ask Thomas. During one careless moment during a fight with a rickshaw driver, Thomas blurted out, “God, India is so stupid!” Moments later we were being paraded through the streets by an angry mob of police and passers-by. The crowd raged, “Do not call the India stupid!” Our travel documents were taken away from us and as the angry mob swelled we were seriously fearing for our safety. The police marched us out on to a pier as enraged men pounded their chests and threatened us with violence. In the end, the police demanded that we both apologize to the crowd for saying that “India is stupid.” Luckily, their English skills were quite limited because I’m sure I heard Thomas quickly say in his I-hate-you voice, “I’m sorry India is stupid.” God, he is going to get us killed one day.

Completely ignoring the great views from the cafe, our eyes are, instead, fixated on Black Forest cake, banana nut muffins, chocolate covered doughnuts, and butter croissants – and that’s just the snacks. From the breakfast of eggs with bacon AND sausage to the chicken rashmi kebab dinner (chicken marinated in yogurt and then baked tandoori style), we’re maximizing our time at Glenary’s.

Don’t judge us. This is all part of the experience. We are simply sampling the local food and, more importantly, the Indian interpretation of Western food – over and over again. But not for much longer. I’m starting to worry about Tony’s cholesterol levels as he stuffs his face with creamy cakes. It’s time to step out of Glenary’s and move on. Maybe we’ll go to the zoo – but not without another chocolate tart.

Seeing Kangchendzonga is also a milestone for Thomas and me. This means we have seen 8 of the top ten highest mountains in the world. The remaining two mountains, K2 and Nanga Parbat, are both located in northwest Pakistan, and we obviously won’t be heading there right now.

To celebrate the eight, we have put together our own pictorial list of the world’s ten highest mountains, respectfully leaving blank spaces for K2 and Nanga Parbat. We’ll get to Pakistan some day!