Second Time Across

Just returned to Manali from a 15-day motorcycle trip through the Ladakh, Kashmir and Jammu regions of northern India. Incredible. I had read (and heard) about the landscape and cultures of Northern India and knew I wanted to explore it by motorcycle. Rather than buy and sell I rented a Royal Enfield Classic Bullet 500 -- "Built Like a Gun" according to the gas tank -- in Manali, in Himachal Pradesh. Manali itself is a weird combination of crazy bazaar, hippie Israeli hideout, and Indian honeymoon destination. I ended up meeting four guys from Bangalore with similar intentions in the rental shop so I decided to head out with them. It was great having Hindi (and English) speaking company, but the lack of independence and self-reliance got a bit frustrating. First, Ladakh. It's the most otherworldly place I've ever seen -- it's like Mars. It's a high-altitude cold desert, and the scale and remoteness are mind-bending. Gold sandstone mountains ribbon

"India is like a wave. Resist and you'll be knocked over; dive into it and you'll swim out the other side." It's a quote from the movie I watched on the flight over -- it's especially true for India, but it holds for travel more generally. There is no substitute for travel. To completely immerse yourself in a culture completely unlike your own -- to taste the foods, hear the sounds, sleep in the guesthouses, meet the people, understand their way of life -- when done well, you gain a perspective on your own life that's impossible to achieve otherwise. My four weeks in India were remarkable. I had little idea of what to expect and seemed to constantly be in a state of amazement, shock, amusement, disappointment, awe, or perplexity. Nepal tomorrow!

I'm not sure if people litter because there are limited municipal trash services, or if there are limited municipal trash services because people litter. Perhaps a consequence of the slowly fading cultural norm of arranged marriages, the general shyness of Indian men toward women is pretty funny. To induce Indian drivers -- primarily men -- to drive more slowly, advisory signs dot the roadsides in the towns and villages. Some are serious ("Better to be Mr. Late than Late Mr."), but others are comical ("I'm curvaceous, go slowly" and "Darling, I like you, but go slow.") In India the vertical "yes" head nod is an odd angular nod. It also has a bunch of other meanings that are tough to pin down. There isn't a "no" nod; it's a shake of the hand. There is a much more vague sense of personal space and ownership of belongings in India. Everything, from food to water to clothing, is shared. When I asked a shop owner