1. Medicines – I had stuff for all sorts of ailments and injuries as just in case for times I wasn’t near a pharmacy or wasn’t well enough to get to one. By far the most valuable ones to me were Neosporin (it cures everything the Greeks use Windex for), Dramamine, oral rehydration salts and probiotics. Other than Neosporin the others could be bought at any pharmacy. The only preventative medicine I used was Malarone for malaria in Madagascar (I recently heard of someone taking that for a trip to Costa Rica where all they were going to do was take a tour bus and I still can’t get my eyebrows back down) and that really needs to be purchased in advance of travel. Any anti-malaria with -quine in the name seems to provide great visions and an overall odd feeling so unless that’s your goal I would go with the low/no side effect Malarone.

2. Gadgets and batteries – I had my camera, lens attachments, video camera, binoculars, outlet adapters and chargers of all sorts. The medicine and gadget bag were by far the heaviest portion of my pack, but I never could pare them down very far. I probably used the binoculars the least, but was so glad when I had them – for lemurs, whales, etc.

3. A good multi-purpose knife (knife, scissors, corkscrew) and wet wipes. I had great dreams of eating mangoes while traveling by train through Madagascar. Turned out they only had one short-ish distance train line semi-running and it wasn’t mango season. I didn’t give up hope though because the Philippines came later and there were good mangoes (along with Vietnam). India had excellent mangoes as well but I ate them civilized residential.  When you have good mangoes and limited access to a sink, you need wet wipes.

4. Clothes, Teva sandals (seems like standard traveler equipment), 50 cent flip flops for showers, a versatile walking/hiking shoe and a pair of black flats I was ready to retire when done traveling. As for clothes, there was the usual traveler/hiker North Face kinds of t-shirts and shorts (fleece top, rain jacket, no heavy jacket), but for pants I can’t say enough about Dockers. They’re cheap, they’re stretchy enough for hiking, they’re cotton so they breath, and my black pair with flats got me out of the jungle and into 777 first class seats as if I hadn’t missed a hot shower.

5. A list of addresses for postcards, copy of my passport (also emailed to myself) and a self-made photo ID listing medications, allergies and emergency contact info.

6. Sunscreen. Period.

Other than that, there’s nothing you really need to carry around for a year and a half. It’s funny when I hear about what people have to have or need and most of the time none of that would have fit in my backpack. Really, with clean water and a few necessities you are all set to set off on a world trip.

I can’t say enough gushing things about my friends there in Novi Sad, and their friends, and their friends’ friends and the friendly hotel, café and boutique staff. Serbia all started as a destination to meet former business contacts while I was in Europe anyhow for a wedding – since I don’t get across the pond too often anymore (Europe has felt so “done” for me). We had exchanged plenty of emails and talked occasionally, but I wanted to meet them as soon as I had the chance, and like so many things if you don’t make the effort you don’t get the experience. So I popped over for a week and was met by Aleksandar and his amazing wife Biljana who are the most incredible people. Not just in generosity, but in sense of humor and life perspectives. I love Biljana’s communist enthusiasm and Aleksandar’s cultural ideas. We had such a time together and they weren’t an anomaly – everyone else I met was similar. It was fantastic learning about the region and exchanging world views. So cool their currency is still tied to gold and they are all about bucking the Euro. About a week in, I realized by American standards I wasn’t just a flaming liberal (as described by family) – I was a radical. There is something about equality and fair access that I just can’t be convinced out of!

Things I loved beyond people – the old neighborhood around the Novi Sad fortress, couples making out in tiny cars at stoplights, cobblestone streets, the pace of Belgrade, café lifestyles, and old world European architecture mixed with progressive Serbian eccentricity. I spent most of my time in Novi Sad with a day in the Hardap Dam region along the Danube next to Romania and a day or so in Belgrade. If you ever drive along the Danube to Hardap Dam you have to look out for the carving of a head on the face of a cliff in Romania. It’s massively large and looks a lot like Jay Leno. To this day I have no idea who it is or how they got the forest fairies to carve it.

People in the US and even at the wedding in Denmark often asked why I would go to Serbia (but with the italicized “Why would you go to Serbia?” inflection). I was told it’s a war-torn country. There are physical reminders in Belgrade and sentiment about American foreign policy is not flying at a high (although certainly an improvement over Bush). One very interesting reminder of the sentiment was the American Embassy in Belgrade has no windows! Anyhow, the world population can rest assured, Serbia is doing just fine (thank you very much). They’ve rebounded and continue to make economic progress and the quality of life is quite high for many compared with others in European nations and the US who are burning the candle at both ends working long hours for low pay. Serbian services and increasingly products are in high demand and the local prices remain competitive.

I’ll absolutely go back and hope to explore more of the region including Bosnia, Montenegro and Croatia on my next visit. If you’re going to be there soon, I can highly recommend the hotel I stayed at in Novi Sad -  Arta Boutique Hotel http://www.boutiquehotelarta.rs/. The rooms were very cool and the staff was very helpful.

“The Zimbabwean dollar (sign: $, or Z$ to distinguish it from other dollar-denominated currencies) was the official currency of Zimbabwe from 1980 to 12 April 2009.
Although the dollar was considered to be among the highest valued currency units when it was first introduced in 1980 to replace the Rhodesian dollar at a ratio of 1:1, political turmoil and hyperinflation rapidly eroded the value of the Zimbabwe dollar to eventually become one of the least valued currency units in the world, undergoing three redenominations, and banknote denominations being issued for as high as $100 trillion.[2]
Despite attempts to control inflation by legislation and three separate redenominations in 2006, 2008 and 2009, the use of the dollar as an official currency was effectively abandoned on 12 April 2009. This was a result of the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe legalizing the use of foreign currencies for transactions in January 2009.[3]
Foreign currencies such as the South African Rand, Botswana Pula, Pound Sterling and the United States Dollar are now used instead for all transactions in Zimbabwe, and the current policy of the government of Zimbabwe has insisted that any attempts to reintroduce Zimbabwean currency should only be considered if the industrial output improves.[4]”
Have you ever traveled anyplace where the currency you used no longer exists?

No surprise, but I am very laissez-faire when it comes to travel/being on vacation.  I love waking up in the morning and just doing what the day has ahead for me – with plenty of time to smell cooking fires, avoid getting hit by motorcycles, eat French pastries, walk as far as my legs will carry me, and watch a slow sunset.  Morocco had all of that and went way beyond any expectations.  I can go on and on about Morocco, but really I’m most amazed by how great Tanya and I traveled together!  Just one example, in Casablanca we walked from the Hassan II Mosque along the seafront, through a wasteland with people picking through the rubbish heaps, to the finest restaurant in Casablanca for dinner.  A) We were most definitely the only patrons to ever arrive via that route (and possibly on foot), and B) Who other than Tanya would also take that route?  We got past the seafront, looked at the wasteland ahead, thought oh crap, looked at each other, looked back at how far we would have to walk back to walk around to a “better” route, looked at the wasteland, looked at each other, and went ahead. Let me tell you, there just ain’t many out there who would do that.

Alright, but on to details of Morocco.  To frame it up, we arrived in Casablanca, took the train to Marrakesh, spent 3 nights in Marrakesh, took to the Atlas mountains for 3 nights, returned to Marrakesh for a night, and then spent our last day and night in Casablanca.  There is plenty to tell.  Right away I can tell you my highlights were the mosque in Casablanca and the mountains.  Hands down I would bear the 24 hour trip (darn the connections) just to go back to the mountains and exactly to where we stayed.  Marrakesh was great, too, but I was blown away by the others.

You can check out my photos and I’ll add updates to an upcoming blog with the juicy details.

Now this was a very special part of my trip.  My friend from Germany, Ravi, arranged for me to stay with his parents in Hyderabad because I wanted to see Hyderabad and I had heard so much about his family there.  They were absolutely lovely.  His parents took me all around the city visiting the Hyderabad markets, various monuments, a mosque and an ancient fort.  They spoiled me completely rotten and I had by far the best food of my trip there.  Ravi’s mom was an amazing cook with fantastic chutneys, biryani and vegetarian dishes.  I can’t give them enough thanks for their amazing hospitality.

One of the things they arranged was for me to have my hands painted which was done by a muslim woman (some judgment intended in the religious association – muslims and hindus aren’t yet kum bay ya’ing together).  Woman being 17 and married.  She was absolutely gorgeous with her lively green eyes and delicate features.  Amazing to think she was married at 17, and I don’t actually know how young she married.

All good things must come to an end and I had to get my ticket to fly from Hyderabad to Mumbai to catch my flight to Durban, SA (where upon my arrival my polite friends informed me a prompt shower would be best).  Yes, you know what that means.  But this time instead of going into an office, Ravi’s parents helped me purchase the ticket through their travel agent friend.  I honestly couldn’t tell you how many phone calls it took – a lot! – to accomplish this task.  I was surprised when the day before the flight I actually got the ticket.  Things happen in a whole different way there, even local to local.

Before I continue, I must apologize. I left you hanging in Delhi a month ago.  Terrible me.  I realized I was going to hell when I let a 100 pound barefoot Malagasy man parade me through a city in his pousse-pousse as he painfully clutched to his masculinity and male pride trying not to look like he was going to keel over from the weight of me and my 40 pound backpack in his tow.  They do that on foot there – not as part of a bicycle or motorized contraption. It was at that instant I knew with no uncertainty that at the end of my days the flames of hell awaited my arrival.  Nonetheless, I can also be sorry for making you wait so long for the remainder of India.  Such a marvelous country, this India.

From Delhi to Agra by train.  They try many up-sells to Agra (they = tour books and of course travel agencies in Delhi) but there is really no need.  It’s a short train ride – something like 2 hours.  I chose to save the 50 cents and travel in 2nd class.  The train station personnel are always concerned about foreigners choosing something other than 1st class, but I decided to throw AC to the wind and let the open air breezes sweep through my ravishing hair.  Many people have asked me how to get train tickets in Delhi. There are several train stations and the lines can be confusing.  If you’re going someplace near-ish by, just go to the train station when you’re ready and look/ask.  If it’s somewhere farther away where trains might not go as often go ahead and try the train station or let the travel agent (and I use that term loosely) at/near your hotel book the ticket.  Maybe they make a few cents on the ticket, but it saves heat and hassle.  Tourists make a much bigger deal of this than is necessary.  Everything eventually happens in India and at no point in time will you have any control over the process.  Just accept that.

Once I arrived in Agra I saw what appeared to be a tour bus loading up and decided what the hey and asked what their dealio was.  Something like $10 and they would take me to the sites.  Would I normally do this?  No.  Quite simply because I like to decide my own time for visiting places, departing and arriving.  In this case I already heard all the tuk-tuks and taxi’s had fixed prices and they were higher for 1 person than just taking the tour bus – plus the idea of haggling fixed prices was not what I wanted to spend my day in Agra doing.  I hopped aboard the air-conditioned dream cruiser and set sail first for the magnificent Agra Fort.  Very big, impressive, daunting, imposing, regal.  I was impressed enough, but wait, there’s more.  Then we went on to (insert: trumpets trumpeting) the Taj Mahal aka “the Taj”.  The Taj is just one of those places, in my opinion, like the Grand Canyon or the Great Wall. No matter how often you’ve heard about it, what you’ve read or the movies you’ve seen, nothing can compare with seeing it in person.  It blows you away.  No matter how high your expectations are, you’re sure to be impressed.

You can read all about the Taj Mahal (eg http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taj_Mahal), but there’s nothing like seeing it in person.  The intricate details, the size, the beauty.  It’s definitely on my Things Everyone Should See Before They Die list.  It’s just one of those perspective-changing places.

Next, on to Varanasi the holy land.  But what fun would a trip to a holy land be without Mimi?  A question I frequently used to ask myself.  The answer is no fun at all (duh).  You may have read about Mimi in the Cast of Characters.  She’s the international traveleuress a go-go.  We bump into each other in the darndest places usually involving rivers and beer.  Vienna, London, Paris, Prague, Kirkland (eek), and in this case Varanasi.  Mimi was hanging out in India with her friendly cohort Seetal.  We of course did the sunrise boat cruise down the Varanasi.  I don’t have video ready for this site, yet, but one day it shall come.  I have the absolute coolest footage – we’re paddling along the river watching everyone bath in the holy water and come across a group of friendly men swimming madly towards us shouting “I love you!  I love you!”.  Clearly these very smart men knew a good thing when they saw it, but how funny it was to have this passionate group approaching through holy water.  Oh, and I could go on about what I’ve seen all over the world taking place in the name of holy/religion.  But that’s for another post.

Varanasi is more than just the Ganges.  It has a great Buddhist temple and some crazy nightlife, too.  One evening we were walking through a market area and for whatever reason we asked a ‘police’ officer something or he was pointing something out.  Anywho, we were following him as he was leading us through the market and we noticed that as he moved through the pathway of people and bicycles he would what seemed randomly (because who could tell what belonged to whom among the many) puncture tires with a small knife he held between fingers in one of his hands.  That seemed the strangest thing.  He was dressed as an officer, and I have no reason to believe he wasn’t an official something or other.  There he went exercising his power and puncturing tires whenever he seemed to feel the urge.  Could this be a method of exercising authority?  Punishment for not paying a sufficient bribe?  Simply random deviant behavior?  This sticks in my head because of its oddness, but I knew it was just a hint of what was to come in the international world of corruption.  More on that later.

What I should say about Varanasi to those who are planning a trip – wear a mask.  The fires really are a strain on the ole lungs.  And of course sucking on exhaust pipes is all one can do when getting around.

Now the thing about a launch, and what might be perfectly obvious on an intellectual level, is that they happen quickly. Too quickly to manage between 3 visual aids/devices – much less just enjoying the experience! Some people kept their cameras to their faces for the whole 10 seconds while I sort of alternated between naked eye, video and a few camera pics. It’s over way before there is any time to take it all in. All you know is there’s a space shuttle with lots of fire below creating clouds in its path and humans are being catapulted into outer space. Yes, it was cool.