DELHI TO RISHIKESH

We emerged from Delhi airport at 11:30pm and stayed in a dark hole in the back alley of what must've been a piss and fish market, judging by the smell. The hole's name was Hotel Namaskar.

Right away Travis got a water balloon to the head, thrown by a sniper child lurking from his window sill several floors above the street. It was then that we learned about HOli: the Indian holiday of colors and water that was being celebrated on the day of our arrival. We were both eventually baptised with colored powder and water by playful locals dancing in the street. It was good fun... pictures to come shortly!

Next morning we hopped a 6am train to Rishikesh. Although we hadn't yet seen Delhi during daylight, the sun rose as we choo-chood away from the city revealing many men, women and children defecating beside the train tracks. TP? Not a chance. Most find it sufficient to use their left hand for wiping. Other wonders included rotting cow carcasses and a human arm, mysteriously floating down river all by itself. We celebrated our clean getaway over a breakfest smorgasborg of mango juice and KurryKurry (Indian version of hot cheetos).

And finally we've settled here in Rishikesh: the birth city of yoga and the mystical place where the Beatles spent time in 1968, writing their famous White Album and Abbey Road. We are staying at Parmarth Niketan Ashram for a week, participating in the International Yoga Festival. We both love it here and agree that our favorite class is Kundalini Yoga, which is taught outside under a tent by a white woman from Hollywood who wears a turban. Go Figure.

This magical place really is a sensory rollercoaster... to the point where it becomes difficult to discern the divine from the filth. It all seems to run together in an undefined blur. We are taking good care of each other and our health is good.