Bangalore more

Continuing the string of people in Bangalore being awesome, I couchsurfed with an awesome Bangalorean (/Bihari) named Siddharth, who showed me even more all around the city, including this temple with a giant bull (Nandi, Shiva's ride) carved all out of one piece of rock.

you can kind of see him in the back there

Food in Bangalore is great, because they take the food from South India plus everywhere else. Siddharth kindly treated me to a Butter Dosa (or should I say, "Better Dosa", hey?), the best Biryani, and Idli/Vada, which I will eat all the time.

Drinks in Bangalore are great, because South India likes coffee. The standard is black coffee, brewed overnight into this super-concentrated coffee sludge, then diluted with milk and sugar, in a tiny shot glass. Yeah, it's a bastardization and tastes like a Starbucks concoction, but it's tasty and small. Also, Cafe Coffee Day started here, which means they have The Best CCD:

Single origin coffees! Single origin coffees from all over the world, including India! I had a french press from a plantation in Karnataka. Not life-changing, but if I paid $4 for it in Seattle, I'd be happy.

Bangalore is glitzy.

This is UB City, a shiny shopping mall. Why am I here?

Tech boom means there's lots of money here. Lots of money means shiny stores and status symbols; people wear brand name clothes and ogle cars. (Once, driving with Moin and driver Ram, we passed a Rolls Royce. Moin: "Wow, a Rolls Royce." Ram: "Yeah, that belongs to so-and-so, a friend of Vijay Mallya." Not just celebrity gossip, celebrity car gossip!) Sometimes prices creep up into American territory.

However, it also means it's a city I can understand how to spend time in. There are pubs (which close at 11:30 by law, but whatever) and coffeeshops, movie theaters and art galleries. Alternative weekly magazines. One microbrewery. There are almost even neighborhoods; most are plastered with malls, but there are hints of real new modern culture developing.

And there are a couple parks. Lalbagh botanical garden:

Not actually a lawn jockey, but a monkey wearing clothes. Is this racist?

Anyway. Bangalore is neat. I feel almost as much at home here as anywhere. Still impossibly unwalkable, and there are some cultural issues (like celebrity car gossip), but then, you have those anywhere. And besides, am I traveling in order to match up each city against some criteria and judge how good they are, or how much I'd like them, or how much I'd like to live there?

Finding home again in Bangalore

So after a train trip in which I didn't sleep, thanks to some coffee-fueled mania, I arrived in Bangalore at 7AM. Dawn must be the best time to be in Indian cities. There are so few people around, and those who are around are so friendly. (Not that I dislike people, but my ideal density is somewhat lower than that in most Indian metropolises.) There are even slightly fewer cars.

Sari shops at 7am

Coffee truck. Guys, coffee truck. How is this not everywhere in the pacific northwest? Coffee truck!

Famous parliament building blah blah

Big city park etc

Bike rental station: awesome. However, they should also work on the fact that cycling on Bangalore streets is a little suicidal. (Ironically, of course, more cycling would help.)

Speaking of dawn, I connected with Dawn Shaikh, a friend of a friend from Google. She, her husband Moin, and their daughters Aneesa and Amara have moved from Seattle to Bangalore for the year. (more on their adventures here.) It was so interesting to talk with them about life as a Googler in Google Bangalore, as American professionals in Bangalore, as IT professionals in India, as students in Indian international schools, as Americans in Bangalore, and as Americans in India. Interesting and refreshing; sometimes I feel like a crazyman here. (both among Indians and travelers.) Plus, they put me up at their place, made some great food, showed me around their town, the whole deal. Really made me feel at home.


The next day, I met up with Thierry (another Googler) and his wife Shika, who were kind enough to host me for a night also. Stuff happens late in this town, so after work (8ish) we went for dinner nearby.  Great talking with them too; in these two days, I've learned more about what it's like to live and work here than in the previous two months.

I saw my first Christmas tree at the Shaikhs' house, and my second at Google Bangalore. Lunch at the office was Christmas lunch, with a big roast bird, western salads and sides, and Christmasey desserts. (Plus Indian food for people who prefer it. Like me.) Santa Claus came around handing out little presents. So, a few dashes of Christmas: a little like home also. Even a few horrible Christmas songs! Friggin' "Last Christmas"...

And finally, and this is weird, I got a big jolt of being back in the mother ship at Google. I realized how much I miss the culture where everyone is brilliant, everyone is optimistic, everyone is techy, everyone is working on sort of the same thing, and everything runs pretty smoothly. Plus the insider feeling from talking about Google things with Googlers. So it goes! You cannot have your career and eat it too! It's a good feeling to have, though, to have left on good terms and to look forward to possibly working there again.

So thank you Google, thank you Christmasey things, but mostly thank you to the Shaikhs and Thierry and Shika. It's nice to feel a bit at home again.

Later I think I will wax philosophical on what it means to feel at home while you're traveling, but I am tired right now.

What's the purpose of this trip?

That may be a silly question, like "what is the meaning of life?" What I'm trying to get at is, if I'm sick of sightseeing (and I am), how can I make this trip into the best trip that it can be? If my goal of "seeing a bunch of places" gets worn out, (and after the lovely interlude coming soon where I hang out with family and friends for about two months) what's next?

As with life in general, I think an easy way to answer this question is to find a purpose. So... what purpose can I find?

Some points I'm thinking about:

• I think I'll be in Iran in February or March, and I'd like to end somewhere that is kind of close to home.
• Some places in Europe might be nice to visit, because I know a few people there, but just touristing in Europe is not appealing.
• I had this idea to go to Ukraine because I have a little bit of ancestry there maybe, but I don't actually know any people there, so it'd just be to sort of soak up a bit of ancestral culture.
• Some places in South America might be nice to visit, because I can speak Spanish okay and speaking the language helps so much in allowing you to find something to do besides touristing.
• Some other places like Central Asia might be nice to visit, but I don't really have any reason to go there.
• I don't actually have much of an urge to go to the rest of the world right now! Feels strange.

So I'm thinking (and I am loath to say this because it might turn out to be silly) that a good purpose might be to bicycle across Europe. Start in Turkey in March, end in the Netherlands in June; about 90 days for 1600 miles is only 17 miles a day. Ride the warm weather back north. My primary task would be to get myself from point A to point B; touristing is secondary.

It sort of appeals to me. We'll see.

The only pun I can make out of boulders and hippies involves "getting stoned" so I'll skip that

Hampi is alternately amazing and just nice. The amazing parts are when you walk up a hill and are surrounded by Jurassic Parkesque (or Mordorian) piles of boulders everywhere, or when you're climbing on some rocks and see yet another 500-year-old building. Or when you rent scooters or bicycles to see these things. Two wheels, yes!

View from the Hanuman temple on the North (Virupapur Gaddi) side of the river. Go to this place; it is great.

It's not that I know or am deeply interested in the history of each individual temple; it's just the sort of otherworldly atmosphere here in general.

The nice parts are when it's dark and you retire to the tourist village of Virepapur Gaddi (across the river from the "main drag" of Hampi Bazaar). I guess Hampi is next on the hippie circuit after Goa, so there are lots of folks just hanging out. My guesthouse has no power between 11am and 6pm, or after 10pm, and right now it has no running water, but hey, no worries. There are lots of mosquitos, but on the plus side I get my first experience with Odomos and mosquito nets. (both are wonderful; I have no bites.)

This cute fellow kept my bathroom clean

Some guesthouses have movies or musicians or bonfires. It's a pretty nice environment to relax for a few days. I wonder what it's like for the people running these places.

The only distressing moment happened when I was talking to a diehard Ron Paul/Ayn Rand/uncontrolled-free-markets supporter, and I didn't know what to say. Guess I am way out of touch with politics.

Practical info: you can stay in Hampi Bazaar (maybe half Indian tourists, half white) or Virupapur Gaddi (aka the "other side" of the river, mostly white tourists, more hippie, more relaxed). Your choice will determine where you spend sunsets and evenings, as the ferry stops at 6pm. Both are good; I think there's more going on on the Virupapur Gaddi side. I stayed in the Sai Plaza guesthouse, which was low on amenities (no hot water, sometimes no water at all, sporadic electricity) and a bit high budget at Rs500, but clean and had a good atmosphere. But there are a ton of guesthouses on both sides. Every restaurant serves four hundred different types of food, none are that good. It's frustratingly difficult to find South Indian food here. There is no ATM (since they bulldozed the main street in 2011). You can rent bicycles/motor-scooters everywhere for 40/150 rupees.

It occurs to me that fewer things stand out now

So I got on the train in Jaipur, found out that 2AC is really just like 3AC with slightly fewer people, talked with my fellow passengers, played a game that involved singing a song that starts with the last letter of the last song, shared their dinner, tried an "almond milk" that was just cow milk with sugar and chunks of almond, got off the train 32 hours later in Guntakal, and took three buses to Hampi via Bellary and Hospet, stopping for an amazing breakfast of idlis and vadas. This trip segment feels like the kind of thing that would have absolutely fascinated me a while ago; now it's just another trip.

Sometimes I'll read an article about how traveling makes you feel like a child again. Maybe after you travel in the same country for a while, you're not like a child any more. Taking an overnight train used to involve a lot of mental effort: how do I find my seat? how do I make the bed? should I eat dinner before I get on? Now it involves only a couple thoughts: get to the station on time, get off on time. The rest is automatic.

This is fine. I guess it means there's less confusion and less wonder. I guess now is when the trip can deepen a little bit and one can get more in depth into... what?... instead of gawking at all the surface differences all the time. So I guess I'm not sure what to do with this. But it's fine.

Jaipur! Argh!

What is wrong with this place! It has all the walkability of New Delhi, my hotel is a few km from everything, tuk-tuk drivers are incessant and awful, and the primary pastime seems to be shopping or spending a few bucks to see sights you don't care about. I guess there are some pretty buildings.

I mainly came to see this, the Jantar Mantar. It was an observatory. This thing you see here is the world's largest sundial.

A scattering of other observatorial implements.

The Albert Hall. I wonder how many holes it takes to fill it.

I don't know what this building is, but it's kind of cool.

Crowning moment:
Me: Do you know the Krishna Palace hotel?
Tuk-tuk driver: (reads card, realizes it's a few km away) Okay.
Me: How much?
Driver: Fifty dollars.
Me: Fifty rupees? Okay. (this journey is worth about 50-100 rupees.)
Driver: No. Fifty dollars.

Sir, screw you, and it's taking a bit of self restraint for me to avoid saying "and screw your city."

Well! I leave in a few hours on a long long trip to Hampi. Wish me luck!

Iran travel risks and Fan Death

Fan Death is a Korean idea. Some Koreans think that sleeping with a fan on can kill you, either through asphyxiation or hypothermia. I bring it up not because it's silly, but because it's something that some people fear (aided by the media), while others can't imagine it being scary.
EDIT: a much better example is skydiving. Statistically not risky, though it seems risky, because jumping out of a plane!

So here I'd like to address some of the possible fears associated with Iran travel, and either refute them or reduce them to a risk that I'm already taking. Instead of general fear of Iran, let's concentrate on what it is that we're afraid of.

What could go wrong?

• Petty crime, getting my things stolen or whatever. I have no reason to believe this is more likely in Iran than in other places, like India.
• Violent crime. Again, this is no more likely in Iran than elsewhere.
• Getting caught up in a protest or something. Well, of course I won't be trying to find anything like this; the trouble would be if I stumble into one. Iran is the first place where I'll have a guide, who will know the situation on the ground and help me avoid stumbling into one. (compare to India where there are people protesting stuff all the time.)
• Iranian government harassing me. I wouldn't be hearing so much "Iran is safe" if there were a possibility that the government would harass me. Unlike those hikers a few months ago, I won't be going near borders or away from my guide. I won't take photos of official things. And again, there's a guide whose job it is to keep me safe.
• US government harassing me on re-entry; one two sites reporting no problems, or a little badgering but nothing serious.
• US government harassing me somewhere down the road (e.g. on a "terrorist watch list"). The only reason I have to believe that this would happen is due to someone I haven't met, whose words I've heard only secondhand via a rather exaggerated email.

Other general fears:

• There's a travel warning by the State Department for Iran. But then, there's also one for Kenya, the Philippines, Israel, and Mexico, as well as travel alerts for India, Nepal, Bhutan, India again, and Thailand. I've traveled under State Department alerts before, during the Red Shirt protests in Thailand; the violence was in one part of Bangkok but the alert went for the whole country. They're a bit... broad.
• There's no embassy. Right. The Swiss embassy foreign interests section can handle some cases, and for the rest... well, I've never needed an embassy through 3 months of travel so far, nor ever in the past, so what are the odds I'd need one now? Again, tell me what will go wrong.

Other things that might allay your fears:

• Rick Steves: "I have never felt a more friendly welcome because I was an American." (skip the politics if you'd like; the point I'm trying to make here is, Iranians were friendly to him.)
• Traveling to Iran as Americans: all you need to know
• Lonely Planet is cool with it.
• Even USA Today says that "with commonsense precautions, the American tourist may enjoy a deeply fulfilling trip to this nation."
• Travel blog: "Some parts of it require you to leave your comfort zone and it can sometimes be quite tough for female travellers, but the people are very friendly and the sights are nothing short of spectacular."
• "Fortunately, or unfortunately, Iranians love other people, specially the westerners !"
• "Tell all Americans we love them"
• Even from a rabbi: "I am now more convinced than ever that we in the West harbor egregiously stereotypical assumptions about this country – and that we harbor them at our mutual peril."
• Is Iran dangerous for Westerners?
• Iran for Westerners?
• Do people really travel to Iran?

Anyway, my point is that I'm not going on some daring trip on a calculated risk because it'll be awesome dude; I'm going on a non-risky trip.

And so I'm asking, if you can provide some evidence that travel to Iran is dangerous, please do. Tell me what I should be afraid of, and provide evidence as to why. The caveat is that this evidence must be fact-based, not vague warnings or what-if worries. If there's no evidence, we might just be arguing about fan death here. (EDIT: or skydiving.)